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saintclarkegriffin · 10 days

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The 100 ended four years ago so I think I can confidently say that i'm forever going to be stuck between the denial phase and the anger phase. No accepting or moving on for me.

I mean for the most part I just pretend that season 7 never happened, like I block it out of my mind. But when I do remember it happened, I just get incredibly angry. And I know it's not healthy to still be this upset over a fictional show that ended in 2020, but I can't help it.

I think about how Bellamy was character assassinated and then killed off in the most brutal and stupid way possible, shot by CLARKE of all people, over a damn BOOK, that she didn't even take!!! I think about how he died all alone, without a chance of saying goodbye to any of his friends or his SISTER!!! I mean think about how crazy that is, Finn died but got to say goodbye to Clarke, Lexa died but got to say goodbye to Clarke not once but twice, Lincoln died but got to say goodbye to Octavia, Jasper died but got to say goodbye to Monty, Kane died but got to say goodbye to Abby and Indra, and Bellamy??? The male lead of the show Bellamy??? He dies and he doesn't even get to say goodbye to OCTAVIA??? The Blakes don't even get a proper final scene together??? And I get angry.

I think about how Clarke, the main lead of the show, was cast aside for half the season and then also character assassinated, turned into a selfish vindictive cold-blooded person who never learns from her mistakes and suddenly doesn't care about being the good guy or doing the right thing... even though the entire point of her character arc was that she was fundamentally a good person, selfless, altruistic and empathetic, who was forced into impossible moral dilemmas. But she never stopped caring!!! Making these impossible choices never got easier for her!!! Because she was good!!! But suddenly in season 7 she was turned into everything that Clarke antis accused her of being. And what's Jason's excuse for this? "Oh, well, if you think about it she was never the hero... she was doing awful things early on in the show, just against people we didn't care about like Mount Weather... In season 7 we put the audience in Mount Weather's shoes"... excuse me???? As if Clarke didn't try literally everything in her power to get her people back, without having to harm/kill the people in Mount Weather??? As if Clarke didn't decide to pull the lever only when she saw her own mother and her friends being strapped to a table to be tortured and killed for their bone marrow??? As if Clarke didn't feel distraught over what she had to do, to the point that she felt like she had to leave her people and be on her own in the woods for months??? As if she didn't have nightmares??? As if she didn't feel guilt and regret over Mount Weather and Maya up to freaking season 6??? And I get angry.

I think about how Bellarke, whether romantic, platonic or something in between, was the MAIN relationship of the show, with the most development and screen time. And that relationship was absolutely destroyed in the most contrived, spiteful way possible!!!! Jason had to character assassinate both Bellamy and Clarke to make it happen. That's how resentful of Bellarke and Bellarke shippers he was. Even though he was the freaking show runner!!! He had the power of writing Bellarke platonically from day one!!! But Bob and Eliza confirmed that they were told that Bellarke was romantic in nature, and that's how they performed it!!! Jason was the one who wrote 2x16 and 4x13, arguably two of the most important episodes for Bellarke... he came up with together!!! He took the head and the heart from the fans and put it in the show!!! He wrote Clarke calling Bellamy every day for 2,199 days!!! No one forced him to do that!!! But he did, and for what??? For Clarke to shoot Bellamy in the end and kill him??? Even if he didn't want to make them canon for whatever reason, he could've still written an ending that was respectful of their friendship and history in the show. But no!!! He had to destroy everything that made Bellarke what it was. And I get angry.

I think about how Octavia spent YEARS trying to get back to Bellamy, to see him again and tell him how much she loves him... And then in the second half of season 7, she just gives up on him??? She doesn't even TRY to understand what happened to him on Etherea, she doesn't talk to him, when Bellamy visits her and Clarke she just stands there with a disappointed face and doesn't say a word. And then when Clarke tells her that she killed Bellamy, she just hugs her and tells her that she understands??? And so would the old Bellamy???? The 'old Bellamy' she didn't even TRY to get back, the 'old Bellamy' she simply gave up on??? Literally every character from Octavia to Clarke to Raven to Murphy to Miller to Echo, had to be character assassinated so that Bellamy could die the way he did. Because none of them would've given up on him!!! They all loved Bellamy!!! He was the 'dad' of the deliquents and then the leader of Skaikru on the ring. But suddenly nobody cares about him, nobody tries to understand what happened to him or tries to change his mind, not even his SISTER!!! AND I GET ANGRY.

I think about how the message of season 3 was that 'pain means that you're alive' and 'you don't ease pain, you overcome it', and how it is better to live in an imperfect world than a perfect simulation. And then in season 7 there's Transcendence which is basically the City of Light 2.0, an immortal hive mind where there's no pain and no death. Just "peace" for eternity. But suddenly THIS hive mind is okay... because? Because the Judge and the other aliens (putting aside how ridiculous it is to introduce ALIENS in your show in the very last episode) are fair while A.L.I.E wasn't? There's nothing 'fair' about deciding which species is worthy of Transcendence and which isn't. Especially since the punishment for not passing the test is MASS GENOCIDE. And yet the Judge is portrayed as 'good' and 'fair' while A.L.I.E. was the one actually trying to ensure the survival of the human race!!! And don't get me wrong, A.L.I.E. was evil but in her methods, her motivs were actually morally sound compared to the Judge and the rest of the aliens. They only did what they did because they believed that they were morally superior to all other species, and if one species wasn't 'good' enough according to their moral standards, that meant that they deserved extinction!!!! "But at least with Transcendence you can choose whether you want to transcend or not, A.L.I.E. didn't give you a choice" bullshit!!! If you "choose" not to transcend, the aliens still take away your chance to procreate and have kids from you!!! They make you infirtile against your will!!! Your species still dies with you and your friends!!!! Why? Because some aliens said so!!! And that's supposed to be an happy ending??? Just because all the characters are smiling and hugging, it doesn't make this ending any less horrific once you think about it for like two seconds. And I get angry.

And finally I think about how the entire message of the show was NOT survival like Jason claims, but how 'life should be more than just surviving'. How 'life can be more than impossible choices and a tragic end'. How humans can 'be the good guys' and break the cycle of war and violence and tribalism. And in the end none of that mattered. Humans kept fighting each other up until the last episode and only stopped because they were being 'tested'. They got absorbed into a hive mind and they're going to be stuck there for all eternity, no lesson learned, no real peace gained. Our main characters, that we've followed for seven seasons, are going to eventually die, leaving nothing or no one behind. All the sacrifices, all the impossible choices they've made... completely meaningless, since the 'survival' of the human race was never up to them building a better world and society after all, it was always up to the morally superior aliens. I think about how they got to survive, but they didn't get to live. And I get angry... because I really loved this show and these characters so much... and they just... they deserved better. They really did.

#i needed to get all of this off my chest #and i can only really do it here #the 100

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roseboysstuff · 4 months

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I loveee it ♥️ pls can we have headcanons of the child in their adult or teen years and showing their darling to them. Like father like son/daughter.

I assume you mean my yandere lotor, if not lmk! Their child is a girl btw, I called her Lexa

Lotor had kept you his for years.

And by this point, you had accepted it.

You were happy.

Your baby was growing up, and he had been the perfect father.

He had looked after you and your daughter so well

By this point, you couldn't even believe you had ever resisted him

You saw how he taught your daughter, played with her, and kept her safe

And when your daughter got older, you saw how she kept you safe too.

Like father like daughter, you supposed.

You saw Lotor's traits in her, how she got obsessive about things, how she fell in love quite intensely.

You tried to teach her about respecting her darling, as you knew it was only a matter of time before she brought someone back the way Lotor had stolen you from the world all those years ago.

And eventually she did.

All you heard was giggles, and muffled screaming from a boy, all the way from another room in the spaceship.

Lotor was proud

You were too, but you couldn't show it

All you could do was ensure that the boy was taken care of, and that your daughter treated him well.

Was it fucked up? Yes

Should you help the boy escape? Also yes.

But you loved your daughter more than anything, and hey, it worked out for you, so might as well see what happens.

#ftm reader #male reader #x reader #lotor x male reader #lotor x ftm reader #lotor smut #yandere lotor #lotor x reader

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popchoc · 3 months

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Day 102: Lexa | Alicia

We fall quiet, listening to the ticking of the rain against the window in the blissful warmth of each other's arms. We know we've got stuff to do, people to see, things to find out... but it all can wait.

"That thing you said, about being a leader," Clarke breaks our silence after some minutes, "It made me think of the time we'd just met. Of the you, back then, and your beliefs. How you tried to live by them. Even tried to teach me the same."

"You were so terribly stubborn!" Despite recalling my constant frustration with her, a soft chuckle falls of my lips.

"Yet you liked me," she reminds me. The raillery in her voice is hard to miss.

"No, I didn't," I tease right back, "I just thought you were hot."

The next moment I'm on my back, taken by surprise by Clarke's quick wrestling attack. As she pins me down, her eyes lock mine. "Liar!"

More laughter escapes me. "What, you were! You were brave, and determined, and smart - despite never agreeing with me. You challenged me, which was annoying as hell... but so damn hot."

Clarke, however, is not that easily fooled. "You liked me," she simply says again.

As she keeps a firm hold on me, we both refuse to break eye contact. Seconds go by. Six. Seven. Eight... Until I finally give in.

"I liked you," I admit, grinning. "I didn't want to. You confused me, unbalanced me. The way you saw me, for real... it scared me. But yes, silly me, I liked you."

A proud smirk flashes over her face. "I knew it."

"Oh, don't be smug," I snort, "I pretty much gave it away by kissing you!"

"Yeah," she smiles, "I remember that, too."

[continue on AO3]

#clexa #clarke griffin #lexa #alicia clark #the 100 #fear the walking dead #the walking dead #fanfiction #crossover #with you i'm born again #clexaweek24 #clexaweek2024 #happy march 03

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gaypirateslife4me · 7 months

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I survived Buffy and Faith. (BtVS)

I survived Dean and Cas. (SPN)

I survived Olivia and Alex. (SVU)

I survived Sherlock and Watson. (Sherlock)

I survived Bucky and Steve, AND Sam and Steve, AND Bucky and Sam. (MCU)

I survived Clark and Lexa (t100).

I am currently surviving Will and Mike, Steve and Eddie, AND Nancy and Robin. (Stranger Things)

I have suffered through: queerbaiting; "everyone experiments in college"; queer coded? - they must be the villain!; "the inherent tragedy of gayness" (repression, AIDs, violence, hatred); girl-on-girl male fanservice; "pray the gay away"; and, most personally painful, "bisexuals aren't real, they just need to pick a side". (I mean, I am though?)

I have been fully and irrevocably traumatized by having to watch my beloved queers be buried over & over & over.

I have literally spent three-and-a-half decades in a toxic, abusive relationship with (not so) queer media.

Upon recommendation of multiple queer friends, I (skeptically, cynically, borderline angrily) watched their so-called "GAY PIRATE (affectionate)" comedy, and was gobsmacked.

Our Flag Means Death gave us: well-rounded characters that are 'no-room-for-guessing, even-your-deeply-repressed-insufferable-republican-uncle-can-see-it queer! Multiple queers with disabilities! Neurodivergent queers! A genderqueer pirate so slay I lose my breath every time they are on screen! Sex between mlm not reduced to 1) tittilation or 2) the raunchy punchline of a mean joke! An unapologetic celebration of Found Family! Drag treated with respect, and as a catalyst for openly queer joy! A fabulous gay wedding! And that's not to mention the loving, romantic, complicated, vulnerable, beautiful relationship between the two male protagonists!

I saw it. with my own two eyeballs. for the first time ever. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I assumed everyone must be as thrilled, honored, and overjoyed as I am for all the rep, positivity, and LOVE.

I was wrong.

It breaks my queer little heart that so many people on this glorious hellsite are furious, indignant, and quick to cancel the characters, the actors, the writers, and the showrunners for not being spoon-fed perfect queer characters in perfect queer relationships for perfect queer rep in ACTUAL queer media that exists! In canon!

It hurts to be vilified for being a fan who refuses to condemn the show and for loving concerningly imperfect and deeply-flawed queer characters.

I am sorry, but as far as I'm concerned, LOVE WON. We won. Please stop coming into my house (blog) and pissing all over my rainbow parade.

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writing-in-lesbian · 4 months

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A Heiress in Love Pt. 7

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Female Reader

Tags: angst, fluff,

Translations: Hainofi = princess // Strik sis [Strisis] = little sister // Ai hod yu in = I love you // Ste yuj = Stay strong //

Chapter synopsis: War is coming and some things need to be sped up for the alliances to work. Right in the middle of everything, someone will warn or new appointed commander about her betrothed.

A/N: This story keeps sending me into new research topics! I hope I’m doing them justice. Also since there aren’t a lot of trigedeslang transistors, everything in italics and underlined would be trigedeslang. Again, I’m partying ways from some canon events in the 100 in order for this to work. Work is not beta’d so all mistakes are mine.

Chapter 7 - A Heda on the Rise

The darkness seems to be more welcoming this time yet, the red fog that you saw before remains there, like a guardian.

Fainted noises try to make their way into your mind, but the dizziness you feel is more than enough to shut anything that tries to reach you. Your hand feels warm and is the kind that makes you feel sleepy and cozy. Feeling a squeeze into your hand, the darkness starts to dissipate slowly.

You get back into reality when you hear far away your name being called, turning to the right, where you think the voice is coming. Opening your eyes, you see your mom looking at you with worried eyes. Her lips mouth something to you but your brain is a little bit foggy.

“Are you okay?” Her echoed words reach your ears. “You seem a little uneasy”

“I’m fine” yet her mother instincts kick in and she gets next to you. Wanda just observing through her peripheral vision, not letting your hand go. Clarke is observing your face, she touches your forehead but feels only your cold skin.

The voices around you are a mix of angriness and confusion, Octavia and Natasha are having their staring contest.

“Octavia, there’s no need to duel Duchess Natasha” You hear your mother talk but your mind is trying to catch up, everything seems a little out of sync. Perhaps the lack of sleep, food, and water is taking finally a toll on you.

“Heda” whatever simple hand gesture Lexa does is enough to keep Octavia in silence.

“Mother, a flame keeper has been in grounders line for all time” you hear Madi say but can’t seem to fully understand it.

“Commander if I may,” Tony says, and to your surprise your mother acknowledges him with a simple nod.

“I know all I’m allowed to know about Flame keepers and I think with our nanotechnology we can improve the efficiency and security of it. That’s why, Duchess Romanoff would be dear Y/N guardian and you my dear…sorry don’t know your name”

He pauses, you guess, waiting for Octavia’s response, which never came.

“Well, you my angry brunette will be as well,” he says and you can guess the gasp you hear is Madi’s. You feel a squeeze in your hand and Wanda’s tense right next to you.

“It will be fine, you don’t have to be afraid,” you think as loud and clear as you can to calm Wanda, it worked before so, she should be able to hear you right away. The tension in your hand lessened and let you know it did.

“I’m not following,” Pietro says out of nowhere, you didn’t even pay attention when he arrived.

Your mother guides King Tony and your mom to the center of the table, pausing a little at seeing your ceremonial things still in place. She searches your gaze but you avoid it before meeting her eyes. You see her guards follow her and stand a few paces behind her.

“Mother if I may, I thought only the commander was worthy of carrying the flame, no offense to our guests here”

Madi approaches your mother, asking silently to clear everything, but is stopped by your mom. Clarke grabs her hand, making her stay there, out of your reach.

“Y/N, Wanda” Lexa’s voice is neutral but you detect a hint of warmth in her tone, her raised hand indicates for both of you to approach her.

You feel Wanda’s tug and in that moment you realize how stiff you were, if the crack of your knee indicates it. You walk slowly, never letting Wanda’s hand go, an action that is noticed by everyone. Clarke has a small smile adorning her face, while Natasha smirks. Octavia’s face goes neutral, even thou you know deep down she’s content with how things are seeming to go with Lady Maximoff and Pietro gives you his usual thumbs up. You search for Madi’s eyes, looking for the comfort a big sister could provide but you see only confusion.

“As we unite our people through my daughter and Lady Maximoff, we should never forget our origins and focus more on our similitudes rather than our differences” Lexa speaks softly but firmly, a tone you have heard many times when she was tucking you into bed explaining to her best effort, the hundred questions you bombarded her with at night.

That is enough to make you form a hard-to-see but small smile.

“We need to understand us and help us. The flame, Madi, is one of the things that make us grounders unique but is, as we know, dangerous for the receiver. To protect us, King Tony will improve the flame that Y/N will be getting, allowing me to continue to keep it as well until I transcend and pass it fully to her”

“If I may,” Tony asks “When Ultron got out of our alliance and started doing all crazy things, it reminded me that, what we all here seek, is the chance to live in peace, and when that is threatened and our loved ones are in danger, we protect them”

“Attack them and you attack me” you hear yourself saying.

“Precisely!” An over-excited Tony says, “It took me two hits close home to understand that I, couldn’t do it alone” he says while walking towards you.

Before he can reach you, Wanda takes a tiny step in front of you that causes Tony to stop before getting too close to you. His face is intrigued but doesn’t change his excitement. However, he changes slightly his course of action and goes to the table instead.

“I have been fascinated with grounders' culture since I met your mothers' ages ago Princess Y/N, so when the time called for it, I reached out to them and well, here we are”

That’s the most simplest way of explaining years of traditions in less than 10 seconds but he says this while getting something from under his coat. It’s a small red box with lines in yellow. He then proceeds to uncover his arm and punches some letters or that’s what you think he’s doing, in what looks like a bracelet, that is more than that as a hologram appears in thin air.

“That still doesn’t explain why Duchess Romanoff has to be the flame keeper,” Madi says, still not trusting any of this.

“I didn’t ask for it either nor do I understand it all but I trust Stark on it” Duchess Romanoff’s voice is so near you that you have to take all control to not shiver, instead squeezing Wanda’s hand, noticing the small smirk she has. For your own sake, you decide not to question it further. “Plus, I care for Wanda and if she becomes part of the grounder's culture, I want to understand it as well”

“Madi, daughter. Patience in one thing”

“Patience in all things” you hear your sister finish the sentence with a sour mode. A sentence that Lexa tried so hard to teach you when you were little and got impatient. You also remember the many lessons you had with her on the proper way of breathing and how to use it to control your anxiety or fears.

“We know the importance of the flame keeper, that’s why part of the agreement included sharing the information about it with them as well we allowed for someone to be part of it. A decision Clarke agreed on it”

At one point you suspected your mom was a big part of the decision on your marriage, the fact that she agreed on the Flame makes you wonder if it had anything to do with their past. You knew your mom carried it for a brief time and how it affected her. Perhaps all of this comes in the best interest.

“Out of all the pool presented, your mom and I decided Duchess Romanoff was the best candidate,” So your mothers chose who was going to bear it? “Not only is she an expert in hand-to-hand combat, but also has a high set of skills that will help keep Y/N and Lady Wanda safe if the case arises”.

Your mom lets Madi's hand and stands next to Lexa and, you figure this has a deeper commitment than you thought of.

“Along with Octavia” Clarke says “She more than anyone would know the importance of protecting their Heda” Just knowing that Octavia will take the role as well, gives you some type of comfort you didn’t know you needed.

Your mother explains while motioning for Octavia and Natasha to come. King Tony proceeds then to touch the hologram and you see the chip projected there and the image is more vivid and clear of what you have seen on your mother’s books and Becca’s library. There are a lot of small letters and numbers scribbled all over it, your best guess it’s that it contains the improvements your mother told you about. Still, how does it work, would it hurt now? You know before, the Flame would allow you to keep your thoughts separated, and now? What is all of this doesn’t work and the Flame chooses another person? Many questions are rounding your mind and it’s getting harder to keep track of all of them. Wanda’s thumb starts doing small circles in your hand, making you get out of your mind.

“I might not be able to read your mind but boy your thoughts are loud” and hearing her whisper so close to you, makes your skin and body tremble. A small chuckle leaves your mouth, getting just the attention of Madi, who looks at you with a curious expression.

“The adaptations I made, would allow Queen Lexa and Princes Y/N to be able to carry the flame, without having any dangers to their health, minimal pain for our princess here, and preserving all the qualities the first commander did”.

Lexa opens the box containing the Flame you’ll be getting soon, the small piece capable of uniting or separating nations, containing power and a lot of responsibilities, making you well aware that, if the old laws were still in place, a lot of people would die to get their hands on. Yet, the infinite symbol inscribed on it faintly glows.

“Y/N… Y/N…the moment has come. Welcome daughter”

“Our nanotechnology has been a resource that many are after, and I’m more than happy to lend it to the aid of our new conjoint kingdoms and the well of their and our heiresses”

“Y/N… Y/N…the moment has come. Welcome Heinoffi”

You barely hear him, being more interested in the data and images showing virtually, the blue hem making it look fascinating to you, so much so that you barely register the small step you take towards it until you’re stopped by Wanda’s hand still in yours. Your mother notes this and takes a look at you, her curiosity getting the best out of her.

“Y/N… Y/N…the moment has come. Welcome Heiress Woods-Griffin”

“Y/N… Y/N…the moment has come. Welcome daughter”

“Y/N… Y/N…the moment has come. Welcome Heinoffi”

King Tony keeps talking but is just white noise compared to what you are hearing. You have heard the stories, the legends, you know that the voices of past commanders, some kind of memory of them will talk with you… but it should be until you get the flame right? So, whose voices are these and why are you hearing them?

Natasha opens then the box, containing a similar but smaller piece of your flame, much to Octavia’s displeasure, noticeable on her face but is replaced soon by curiosity as she sees Wanda taking a step towards Natasha.

“The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here. The moment has come. The heiresses are here.”

You feel a sudden need to reach for the box your mother has, taking Wanda with you, who shows nothing but a willingness to walk, eager to get the box in Natasha’s hand. You hear nothing but the voices until….

CLANK, CLANK.

A metal noise is heard, making you stop in your tracks, your hand close to the box your mother had, which has been closed. Wanda’s hand is on the box Natasha has, with Clarke’s hand on top of it. You didn’t notice your mom moved, less see the other box being opened.

“Curios indeed” you heard King Tony say.

Wait, weren’t those the same words Aiden told you?

“Fascinating, isn’t daughter? My predecessors are eager for you to join us” and you look at your mother, her eyes are unguarded just for you and you see the love and pride in them, but you also see something else, you can’t pinpoint what it is yet.

“Lady Maximoff” she takes her sight towards Wanda and notices how, despite taking different steps, your hands remained linked. The small smile there is just perceptible for you and Madi.

“What is in front of you, is a replica of the Flame Y/N would be getting that you would be having in custody, hence why we decided to have two flame keepers, one, to guard Y/N and the other, to come in place if the occasion arises, you need to evacuate with the flame”

Wanda returns to your side, dropping your hand to play with her ring fingers, a piece of hair falls from her hairstyle, and you observe her while trying to comprehend everything that has been said, your mind racing a mile per second, tying things here and there. So if Tony requested the marriage to protect his lands and people, your mothers agreeing to it AND sharing the flame knowledge, plus including another flame keeper and a replica? What’s the real meaning of all of this?

“Would I always be hearing the voices?” Comes the quiet question of Wanda.

“You heard them?” Pietro, who up until this point was watching the whole thing unfold, approaches his sister. You can’t help but step a little in front of him.

“I…think?” Her eternal frown comes into place and you can’t help but notice that’s different from the one prior, this one is less pronounced, making her eyes smaller, although the tilted head remains the same.

“If you heard them Lady Maximoff, as precedent as this is, I believe it has to do more with your abilities, still, it doesn’t minimize the fact of it, especially for someone who’s not natblida” your mother says, not even a hint of surprise on her voice. Turning, you see your mom looking at Wanda with confidence, a spark of something you haven’t seen reflect it on someone outside your clan for a long time.

The fact that both of them knew about Wanda’s abilities makes you wonder how much they know, you recently learned them, but well, maybe King Tony shared that information. If your mothers agreed to

Madi opts now to turn and walk away, your instinct is going after her but your feet refuse to cooperate. By this time, the first signs of sunrise are showing, and the little place you have been all night starts to appear clearer. You can see more now the features of the ceremonial table and the articles left there, the thin smoke of the incense long gone, but the ashes remaining there, scattered on the table. Your mom has noticed the sun rising as well, whispering something to Lexa, and then proceeds to leave, taking Pietro with her with promises of breakfast and coffee. The last item offered, you think, shouldn’t be something Pietro should get his hands on, an over-caffeinated hyperactive child is the less you need now, yet, the thought brings a smile to your face.

”Now, there’s a journey ahead of us that we should prepare for. We leave in 15 minutes, horses are ready and I believe, King Tony wants to speak to you Y/N” Your mother takes the bowl containing your blood and needles and signals for the rest of the party to leave all, except for Octavia who maintains her position not far from you, but giving you enough privacy.

Wanda is hesitant to let your hand go. And after a few seconds of thinking she turns to leave, Natasha at her side in an instant.

“I’ll be out soon,” you say after her, taking her nodding as a sign that she heard you, saying it to try and reaffirm whatever worries or curiosity she might have or maybe it was to calm your worries. You haven’t met King Tony personally nor this close before, but here you are.

“Curios is a killer thing, don’t you think my darling?” He says while playing with the matches left on the place where the rest of your ceremonial things are.

“Not your darling, please don’t refer to me like that again” There’s an element you don’t like about someone calling you darling, other than really close people.

“Feisty, I see. No wonder why our dear witchy feels attracted to you”

“With all due respect King Tony, what is it that you wanted to talk? We need to leave soon and we have a few hours ahead of traveling. I would like to get ready”

But the fact of his words is making something inside you, clearly is nice to hear a confirmation that Wanda feels attracted but his tone and the way he said it, doesn’t suit you well.

“Yes about that… I just wanted to make sure you’re prepared for what might come?”

King Tony might be a lot of things, but discrete has never been his best strong suit. You need to inquire more about what has been said and agreed on this marriage thing.

“I am” and your voice carries so much strength and pride, just like your mother used to do and still does when her reasons are questioned. You have spent a lot of time studying, training and preparing for your ascension as Heda, the fact that a war might break soon makes you nervous, but you trust your preparation and your heritage.

“And if chaos breaks?”

The sun is almost up, mother nature indicating that your party must leave soon for the agenda to continue and not interrupt another thing. Although your ascension ceremony will be tomorrow night, you’re certain more things are preparing behind the curtains, didn’t Octavia mention something about Raven sending a package for your ceremony? To be honest, if Raven knew about it, then… when or how did she get the news about it? And how did she get them that fast?

A flock of birds past over your head, but your eyes remain on the King, gauging his reaction to your lack of response, trying to read him. He’s quite the character, making it a little bit difficult to find a truthful interpretation.

He takes your silence as something based on the chuckle he makes and proceeds to explain.

“Our dear witchy over there and future Mrs. Woods-Griffin can be something” his bracelet on the hand signaling where Wanda just left shines under the sun, making you realize you need to end this soon.

“You know about Wanda’s magic then” It’s not a question.

“If I know? Girl, I will be afraid if her chaos gets out of control-”

“So your better option was to ship her to a foreign kingdom so it gets out of your hand”

“Princess” and the tone is so petty you almost hate it. “I rather have her as an ally than be on the receiving end of her anger”

“I shouldn’t be entertaining you with these questions, but If chaos, as you and Aiden like to name her magic, decides to come out to play, I’ll be ready”

Your mother never taught you to look down first on a staring match, combine that with the stubbornness you inherited from your mom and you have a killer stare. Which makes King Tony smile like a madman.

“Good! That’s exactly why I choose you over Vision to be her wife, now chop chop Princess we have a journey ahead of us”

He leaves your side faster than you can comprehend what he just said. Of course, you have heard of Count Vision and his last attempt to have Wanda as a wife, the thought never sitting well with you, for all purposes, word has it that Count Vision is just as cold and heartless as a machine, but his assets and technology would have been something to pique the interest of Tony, yet he chose you over him, why? You have so many questions to ask your mother but are afraid she won’t answer them if she feels is not the time. Deciding not to dwell more on the issue you kneel to retrieve the bag where you carried your ceremonial things.

A chirp is heard somewhere in the trees, hurrying your steps, knowing Echo is just a moment away to come and retrieve whatever things you leave, you finally, step out of the ceremonial place and take a few seconds to enjoy the cold breeze.

This exact time, just a few minutes after sunrise, is the time you have come to love the most. The temperature is perfect, not warm yet not too cold, the wind is chill enough to be able to enjoy it without a heavy jacket. Your mother used to find you out of bed at this time many times, standing by your side, always extending her hand without saying a word, and every time you took it. Both enjoyed the silence and the company. She would later carry you back to your chambers, tickling your sides until you asked her to stop between waves of laughter. She did it until you were 6 years old, claiming you were too big for her to continue carrying you and wasn’t proper for a princess.

“Heinofi” Octavia's voice surprises you, having completely forgotten she was just mere steps away. Did she hear your talk with King Tony?

“Don’t you dare question what you have to offer, we all know anyone would be honored to be your wife”

“I’m not-“

“I know you Y/N, whatever King Tony said about Vision, ain’t worthy worrying your mind”

For many people, Octavia is just a distant, uninterested, savage brunette, but you know that’s just a facade, deep down she’s more intelligent and observant than a lot of people think, yet her nickname of Bloodreina holds up to her reputation.

She grabs your chin and lifts it so you can see her in the eyes, and what you see makes you question not for the first time, what have you done to have such a cool aunt care that deeply for you. Madi once joked about you being the daughter she wished she had.

“Thanks Aunt”

“Now, Echo had your horse packed and your mother awaits. I saw Wanda pass with Natasha so we should get going”

She proceeds to lead the way but your hand stops her before she can take more than two steps ahead of you.

“Aunt Tavia”

Octavia turns to look at you questioningly.

“Do you know the reasons my mothers agreed on all of this and if they were aware of Wanda’s abilities?”

You hesitate for a moment, your question taking her out of guard.

“You better than anyone should know that not all the important decisions your mothers take are shared with their counsels. That being said I know they were aware of what Wanda can make, and no Y/N I don’t know it. As for the reasons for the marriage to take place, I guess they balanced both options of suitors and decided on the best one, political and personal”

Wait, both?

“Both?” You ask but her gentle push for you to walk makes you trip, regaining your composure you keep walking but still waiting for her answer.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Forget I said it” She well knows you won’t let it go that easy, but for your benefit, since you had your wish granted, you keep quiet. Making a sign of erasing your mind with your hand, you smile and walk ahead of her.

It doesn’t take you too long to reach the parting point, you see ten to twelve horses at the ready, your mother guards already in place. Counting them and making mental notes of which horse is for whom, you notice five are still waiting for their rider but yours is not there.

“Daughter, are you ready?” Your mother’s voice welcomes you, just as she is mounting her black Percheron, her elegance is something you have always admired. You take it as a good sign that Philly is there, since you know that’s not her battle horse, since it has been a while since Raven implemented some upgrades and experiments on that department, no longer using life animals for it, but rather something mechanic, nor exactly a robot but similar.

“I am mother” Echo approaches you, with your own Lipizzan horse, his grey coat shining under the weather and his mane braided elegantly.

Approaching them you thank Echo and take Dasher’s reins. Your other hand caresses his forehead carefully avoiding his muzzle. You approach your forehead to his.

“Hey there Dash, ready for a journey?” His only response is his short snort. You have had it since you were eight, a present from Queen Regina, arguing if you were to be a good goddaughter, you need it to learn to ride properly. The relationship you had with Dasher has only been growing ever since, with both of you bonding almost immediately.

Those are the things that make you question how many of your relationships were just mere political movements rather than affection. Deciding to leave that thought for another time, you caress Dash one more time before a guard helps you mount him.

Once you are on him, you whisper small affective, and reassuring words into his ear, caressing his beautiful mane. You know Dasher can feel nervous sometimes when new people surround him, so you do your best to stay calm and transmit that to him.

“Lexa” you hear your mom calling her, she’s still on the ground. “Safe travels. I’ll see you soon” She takes Lexa’s hand for a few seconds and leaves with her guards towards the carriages zone, part of King Tony’s party is waiting over there, as far as you can see he’s not among them. You guess she might be doing something else for the wedding preparation with your guests.

“My dear Lexa, what beautiful creatures you have here” Well, that responded to your question about why he was not over there.

You’re guessing that if he was the one working on the new flame, he would be the one indicating how to handle it.

“We’re proud of our horses. Intelligent and magnificent creatures they are”

King Tony walks closer to the other horses, you supposed he would wait for someone to helpl him but to your surprise, he mounts it quite quickly.

“I’m a bit rusty, it’s been a while since I did it”

“You used to ride?” Your question is more of curiosity than anything else.

“Growing up, yes”

“Impressive horse Commander, and more impressive he hasn’t dropped Stark”

You turn to see Duchess Romanoff and Wanda slowly approaching, you haven’t thought why they weren’t there nor near the carriages when you joined.

“Very funny, let’s see how yours handles your presence” Is he indulging in the comment?

Without more thinking you descend Dasher and walk towards Wanda, offering a small smile which she reciprocates albeit reluctantly, which makes you frown a little.

“Those are beautiful horses Princess Woods-Griffin” so you’re back to formalities.

“Not as beautiful as you” You can hear and feel Octavia and your mother cringing from where they stand, already in her horses, but the small blush on Wanda’s cheeks makes it worthy.

“Echo and Finley will help you mountain yours, we need to be leaving soon” and the commanding voice your mother has is enough for King Tony to regain his composure.

“I have never ridden a horse before” It’s Wanda’s timid voice and now you understand her behavior and posture.

She’s afraid.

Her hands are playing with her rings, trying hard not to bite her nails, and her sight is fixed on Dasher, you can’t help but feel pride. He’s mesmerizing and gorgeous to look at.

“Then you must ride with me” and not soon after your words leave your mouth you know a reprimand will come your way.

For safety reasons, in every political travel, there must be only one rider per horse, in case there’s an ambush, your guards can help you escape in different routes and not compromise any of you. You know that this journey is way more than just a political thing.

“Daughter, I’m afraid that would have to be for another occasion” There’s not a drop of hardness or angriness in your mother tone, but a small warning.

And for the first time in forever, you do something you never thought you’d do.

You guide her to Dasher.

The horse sensing what are you going to ask, just moves with his head, signifying he’ll allow Wanda to ride him.

“Dasher would be yours for the journey then” Lexa, Octavia, and even Echo are well aware of what that means.

Dasher is to be ridden only by you, the horse not allowing anyone else to mount him, not even her first owner Queen Regina has been able to do it. Dasher never allows the saddle to be put on him if it’s not going to be for you, you guess that he can sense it and has a better instinct than most humans.

Not even Princess Danvers, your previous girlfriend did it. Dasher liked her but never allowed it to be ridden by her. When you two went out riding, you had to take Quinn, your other Lipizzan horse for it, she allowed other people with you.

Once, Queen Emma said that the connection you had with your horses was similar and way freaky than the one Regina had with Rosinante, her horse. You answered that she didn’t understand the connection between horses and humans since her horse wasn’t too happy with her. Queen Regina snorted, making you feel good. Until this time, is hard for you to call them godmothers.

“Is it yours? He’s magnificent” Wanda says and you can swear Dash neighs in response to that. Cheeky little bastard but you feel happy he’s allowing Wanda so far.

“Yes, his name is Dasher, he’s my main one”

Like reading your mind Dasher nudges his muzzle on Wanda’s shoulder and you encourage her to pet him.

Your mother observes this and smiles, happy to see you content despite the threat of war over your heads.

“Here, let me”

In an instant, Finley, the stable young man is at Dasher's side, putting his two hands together, so Wanda can step into them, this action needs it to push the rider up. You take Wanda’s waist and she jumps a little, surprised by the action.

“I’ll help you get onto him. Dasher is a gentleman but if you have never ridden, it can be tricky to get onto him”

Wanda looks at you, her ever-inquisitive look in place. She puts her hands on your shoulders, nodding her head, indicating she’s ready. You laugh and turn her, her back now towards you.

“Put your right foot on Finley’s hands and impulse your weight. Once you feel the push, your left leg should do a small arch over Dasher’s back. Ready? On three. One. Two. Three”

Wanda graciously mounts Dasher, giving you a memory to cherish for ages. Once she’s on Dasher you can see her nervousness be replaced with excitement, her smile getting bigger by the second.

Echo, who had taken over Dasher’s reins, gives them to you with a small nod.

“Here, this will help you guide him and to hold on to him. You won’t need to do much, since Quinn and I will go right next to you and Dash is excellent following us”

You had been involved a lot in their training, making sure both knew how to follow each other without a rider or an injured one. Sometimes your paranoia pays off.

“Okay” and is the smile and the brightness in her eyes that does it for you.

You go to Quinn, feeling Wanda’s eyes on your back, observing your interaction with Quinn, you salute her the same way you did it with Dasher. You mount her without help, years with them have made you agile. Echo passes your bags and sword. Thanking her you take a moment to whisper something into Quinn's ears, getting a snort in response.

“It seems we’re all ready. Indra” your mother motions for her most loyal warrior and leader. Indra gives this vibe of hating everyone but is nothing compared to Anya.

“Send a messenger to the clans. Let them know my daughter's Ascension ceremony will take place tomorrow. They should know we’re ready and we must stay united in our coalition”

Indra nods and takes off on her horse, you thought she would be going with you, but then again, a lot of things have been changing by the second. The guards open the gigantic gates, and you see the roads that lead to Polis, the royal guards leading the way, followed by your mother, King Tony, Duchess Romanoff, then you and Wanda, Octavia, and the rest of the royal guards behind

You hear some guards whisper safe travels. You’re somehow excited for what lies ahead. After all, you have traveled this road many times, knowing the safety of its course. Turning you see Wanda calmingly admiring the landscape, one hand in Dasher’s rein, the other, caressing him slowly. She’s a natural.

The sun is now fully up, giving the forest a whimsical view, everything seems calm, so you relax and let yourself enjoy the ride, a few moments of peace before the madness begins.

Tag List: @spongebobtentacles @wandamaximoff727 @cristin-rjd @aawake-atnight @msromanoffswife @juno-verse @wandastan-2 @wannabe-fic-reader @cd-4848

#ao3 author #cross posted on ao3 #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #a heiress in love #wanda maximoff x reader #fanfic writing

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dysco-lymonade · 4 months

Note

#6 for kissing prompt using any clexa you want 😊

You’re now entering an unknown Clexa AU set some time during college.

Maybe it’ll develop into something? Send me your thoughts and questions.

The bass is pounding so hard that Clarke can see the sound waves in her cup of lukewarm beer. Her mind wanders to Jurassic Park and she wonders if she wouldn’t enjoy being hunted by a T-Rex more than being at this party.

Beside her, Finn Collins is apologizing profusely.

Again.

She knows he is speaking, but she’s not listening. She honestly doesn’t really care that he missed the opening of the art show. It wasn’t like she’d sent him an invitation. It was a small college-wide display that would be going on for weeks.

She sees a hand come in to her line of sight. When her eyes focus, she sees fingers snapping in front of her face. “Yo, Earth to Clarke.” Finn has successfully grabbed her attention, and her murderous gaze.

“Did you seriously just snap at me?” She furrows her eyebrows.

He doesn’t even flinch at her tone.

“Yeah I was seeing if I couldn’t make it up to you.” He shoots her what she’s sure is supposed to be a cute crooked smile. It really just makes her want to rearrange his face.

She sighs, trying to make it clear that she’s not interested, without having to actually say it. “Finn, look. I’m not sure what—“

He cuts her off with a hand on her forearm. “I know you’re upset, princess. But it won’t happen again. I promise.”

“What won’t?” Clarke shrugs her arm away from his touch just as his eyes wander to something behind her.

“Oh hey, Lexa. Can you give us a minute?” Finn asks.

Clarke doesn’t hear a response. Instead, she feels herself being turned around with a gentle grasp to her shoulder. It’s like she’s moving in slow-motion.

Clarke’s eyes briefly land on the determined face of one Lexa Woods before she’s suddenly too close to focus on.

Two soft palms cup Clarke’s jaw as slender fingers grasp around the back of her neck.

Then Lexa’s lips are on hers.

It’s so unexpected that Clarke hadn’t had a moment to ready herself. Lexa comes in too quickly, damn near chipping Clarke’s tooth.

Clarke can’t find it in herself to mind. Instead, she sinks in to the feeling of Lexa’s hands cradling her face.

Clarke wraps her hands around Lexa’s waist to pull her in tighter, just as she starts to feel Lexa pulling away.

Clarke can hear Finn muttering curse words under his breath as he wanders off.

“Jesus, Lex. What was that?!” Clarke all but squeaks. Now looking Lexa directly in the eyes.

Panic is the only word that could possibly describe the look on Lexa’s face.

“Shit. I just saw him over here bothering you again and I thought— I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t think.” Lexa’s rambling and Clarke can’t help but find it endearing. Leave it to Lexa to step in and save Clarke from unwanted advances. She’s just never been quite so bold about it.

“Lex.” Clarke tries to get her attention to calm her down.

“That was bad, wasn’t it?” Lexa winces.

“Absolutely terrible.” Clarke teases back with a grin. “You should do it again.”

#clexa #clexa au #this could be another fun AU but I don’t have any solid plans on making it into anything #butttttt you never know #a little Lexa saving Clarke from unwanted advances AU #the other kiss prompt

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reallygroovyninja · 7 months

Text

Indra stood at the head of the long library table, her gaze sweeping across the faces of her faculty, each seated in the historic wooden chairs that had been part of Arkadia High's library for decades. The overhead lights illuminated the rich mahogany of the shelves, filled with books that silently bore witness to countless staff meetings.

Clearing her throat, she began, “I understand Spirit Week might seem like it's primarily for the students, but I'd like to emphasize the importance of faculty participation. Our students look up to you all. Your enthusiasm—or lack thereof—sets a tone for the entire school. I urge each of you, from the PE department to the sciences, from math to art, to dive in wholeheartedly. Let's show the students that school spirit isn't bound by age or subject. Let's make this Spirit Week memorable, not just for them, but for us as well." Indra's voice, authoritative yet warm, resonated with an unmistakable passion, compelling even the most reticent teachers to consider embracing the week's festivities.

Indra adjusted her glasses and glanced at the list in front of her. "Alright, everyone, the student council has made their decisions for this year's Spirit Week themes," she began, trying to infuse her voice with a hint of excitement.

"Monday will be Pajama Day, followed by 60's Day on Tuesday. Wednesday will be College or Pro Sports T-shirt Jersey Day. Thursday is designated for Movie Character Day, and we'll wrap up the week with School Colors Day on Friday." She paused, waiting for the reaction she knew was coming.

A collective groan echoed through the library. Ms. McIntyre, the history teacher, sighed dramatically, "Every year, it's the same thing. You'd think they'd get creative for once." Mr. Pike, from the PE department, chimed in, "I've lost track of how many jerseys I've worn on Wednesdays." Indra chuckled, understanding their sentiments, "We might know what to expect, but remember, for some of our students, this is their first Spirit Week. Let's make it count for them."

Indra saw the palpable sense of deja vu among the teachers and decided to introduce a twist. "However," she began, drawing the room's attention with the slight rise in her voice, "the student council introduced an incentive this year. The student displaying the most spirit throughout the week will be awarded a $500 gift certificate. But, they didn’t forget about you all." She smiled wryly, catching the twinkle in a few teachers' eyes.

"The teacher who goes above and beyond, showcasing the most spirit, will receive a $250 gift certificate. So, let’s see which one of us can give our students a run for their money!" The atmosphere in the room shifted from mild dread to competitive enthusiasm as murmurs of challenge buzzed between colleagues.

As the room settled into a hive of chatter, teachers contemplating how to win the coveted gift certificate, Clarke turned to Lexa, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of a new challenge. "So, are you up for a little competition this year?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. "I have to say, a $250 gift certificate could buy a lot of art supplies—or in your case, possibly the fanciest graphing calculator ever made." Clarke's teasing smile met Lexa's composed but amused gaze.

For a moment, the world beyond the two of them seemed to fade into a mere backdrop, the other teachers' voices a distant murmur. In that instant, it wasn't just about the gift certificate or even Spirit Week; it was an unspoken acknowledgment of the camaraderie and gentle rivalry that had always danced between them. Lexa's eyes twinkled as she leaned in, whispering, "Challenge accepted, Clarke. May the most spirited teacher win."

Indra noticed the competitive sparkle that had ignited in her teachers' eyes, satisfied that her announcement had sparked more enthusiasm than she'd first sensed. "Alright, if there are no further questions, let's call it a day and gear up for a memorable Spirit Week next week. Meeting adjourned."

The faculty began to rise, chairs scraping against the wooden floor, but the atmosphere had shifted from routine resignation to spirited speculation. As the teachers filed out of the library, each wore a thoughtful expression, already lost in strategic calculations.

Ms. McIntyre was heard mumbling about recreating a '60s protest sign that would blend history with spirit. Mr. Pike flexed his arms, contemplating how many sports jerseys he could layer on without causing heatstroke. Clarke and Lexa exchanged one last look, their smiles a mutual promise of the spirited battle to come.

There was a newfound spring in everyone's step; if Spirit Week was a game, then this year, it had suddenly become a high-stakes tournament, and each teacher left plotting their moves to outwit, outplay, and outlast.

The evening air was cool when Lexa arrived at Clarke's inviting house, a place soon to be their shared home. Clarke greeted her with a smile, the comfort of their time together contrasting the semi-chaos of the house. Amidst the boxes labeled 'Lexa's Books' and 'Clarke's Art Supplies,' it was clear they were gearing up for a new chapter together.

"So, I've been thinking," Lexa began cautiously, setting down her overnight bag by the entryway, "For Spirit Week, what if I stay at my own apartment? That way, our outfits can be a surprise for each other every day."

Clarke chuckled, her eyes twinkling with both amusement and affection. "You really are taking this challenge seriously, aren't you?"

Lexa nodded, her face a playful blend of seriousness and excitement. "Absolutely. Do we have a deal?" Clarke grinned, captivated by Lexa's enthusiasm. "Deal," she agreed. With a knowing smile, they leaned in and shared a lingering kiss, sealing their playful pact for the week ahead.

The first rays of Monday morning painted the Arkadia High courtyard in a soft, golden light. Students, still groggy from the weekend, shuffled in, casting curious glances around to see which of their peers and teachers had embraced Pajama Day.

Among them, Lexa made her entrance, capturing more than a few amused stares and chuckles. Clad in a cozy, dark-hued pajama set, she confidently strode in, the words "Come to the dark side, we have π" boldly printed across her top.

Her choice of sleepwear, a playful nod to her math specialization, was as much a statement of her personality as it was her commitment to Spirit Week. As students whispered and pointed, it was clear that Lexa had set a spirited tone for the week, and many wondered how the other teachers, especially Clarke, would rise to the challenge.

Just as the school was buzzing over Lexa's clever pajama set, Clarke pulled into the parking lot, igniting a fresh wave of chatter among the students.

She stepped out of her car wearing a rainbow unicorn onesie, complete with a horn on the hood and a colorful tail. Across the chest, in bold, glittering letters, read the phrase "I Don't Believe in Humans." As she walked through the courtyard toward the school building, students couldn't help but stop and stare, their eyes widening in both amusement and admiration.

Clarke's artful approach to Spirit Week was unmistakable, and her whimsical onesie instantly became the talk of the school. She wore the outfit with an air of casual confidence, as if unicorn attire was just another artistic medium for her.

When Clarke and Lexa finally crossed paths, their eyes met, and for a moment, their playful outfits said more than words ever could—each had brought their A-game to Spirit Week, and the competition was on.

During their brief encounter in the teachers' lounge, amidst a sea of equally spirited but far less creative pajamas, Lexa leaned in close to Clarke and spoke softly. "Alright, I'll admit, you may have outdone me for Pajama Day. That unicorn onesie is a work of art—literally."

Clarke grinned triumphantly, enjoying her moment of glory. Lexa's eyes, however, twinkled with a sense of impending triumph. "But just wait until 60's Day. That's where I'll claim victory. I've got something special planned, something that even your artistic mind couldn't conjure."

Clarke looked at Lexa with a mix of curiosity and excitement, wondering just what the math teacher had up her sleeve. "Challenge accepted," Clarke said, her voice tinged with anticipation. "May the best outfit win." And with that, they shared a smile that carried the weight of a friendly rivalry and the deep affection that underlay it all.

On Tuesday's 60's Day, the Arkadia High courtyard came alive with the echoes of a bygone era. Among the students sporting flower crowns and band tees, Clarke's entrance became one of the day's spectacles.

She emerged from her car in a vibrant tie-dye shirt that danced with swirls of purples, blues, and greens, making it look as though a rainbow had melted upon her. Paired with her top were high-waisted flare jeans that accentuated her stature, giving off a carefree yet confident aura. She wore a pair of round, oversized sunglasses, their tinted lenses reflecting the morning sunlight.

Around her neck, she had a peace-sign pendant, and her feet were adorned with brown, fringed sandals. To complete the look, a simple braided headband held back her loose, wavy hair, emphasizing her dedication to the day's theme. As Clarke stepped onto the school grounds, she personified the very spirit of the 60s, her outfit a testament to her innate ability to merge creativity with authenticity.

Not long after Clarke's entrance, another car rolled into the Arkadia High parking lot, and out stepped Lexa, providing the next big reveal of 60's Day.

She was a vision of mod fashion, challenging the bohemian vibes set by her counterpart. Wearing a mini skirt that featured a bold geometric pattern, Lexa paired it with a form-fitting sweater in a contrasting color, amplifying her look's retro edge.

But what really turned heads were her knee-high leather boots, polished to a shine and perfectly complementing her ensemble. As Lexa walked through the school, her boots clicked with each step, emanating an aura of absolute confidence. The math teacher had indeed made good on her promise: her 60's Day outfit was a masterstroke of style and strategy, one that captivated students and faculty alike.

When Clarke caught sight of Lexa in the hallway, clad in her 60's-inspired mini skirt and knee-high boots, her heart skipped more than a beat. Lexa exuded a kind of effortless sensuality that caught Clarke utterly off guard, making it almost impossible to focus on the friendly competition at hand.

While the whole point of this week was to surprise each other with their Spirit Week outfits, for a fleeting moment Clarke regretted their decision to keep their living arrangements separate for the duration.

The thought of not being able to see Lexa first thing in the morning and last thing at night, especially when she looked this captivating, left her with a sense of longing she couldn't easily shake.

The playful rivalry was still there, but it had taken on a new, electric charge that neither of them could ignore. Clarke took a deep breath, steadying her racing heart, knowing that the week had just become more intriguing in ways she hadn't anticipated.

Clarke and Lexa bumped into each other in the deserted hallway, their eyes meeting over the vivid splashes of 60's fashion they each wore. "You look like a real-life Woodstock poster," Lexa commented, visibly impressed.

Clarke chuckled, her eyes drifting over Lexa's form-fitting ensemble. "And you're channeling the Swinging Sixties in London so well, it's hard to remember we're in a high school in 2023." The tension between them was palpable, charged with something more than their usual friendly competitiveness.

Seizing the moment, Clarke glanced around and noticed her art classroom door was ajar, the room empty. "Come here," she said softly, grabbing Lexa's hand and pulling her into the empty space.

As the door closed behind them, Clarke looked into Lexa's eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. "I can't help it; you look amazing," she confessed, before pressing her lips to Lexa's.

For a few suspended seconds, the world outside—the students, Spirit Week, the competition—faded away, leaving only the two of them lost in a kiss that seemed to say what words could not.

When they finally pulled apart, both were slightly breathless but smiling, knowing that regardless of who won Spirit Week, they had something infinitely more valuable.

Clarke felt a magnetic pull towards Lexa that she couldn't resist. Her hand gently touched Lexa's cheek, her eyes meeting those striking green orbs for a moment before leaning in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss was deeper, more intentional, as if they were sealing an unspoken pact between them. However, just as their lips met and they began to lose themselves in the moment, the harsh sound of the school bell rang out, shattering the intimate bubble they had created.

They pulled away, their eyes meeting in a mix of frustration and amusement. "Well, duty calls," Clarke said, her voice tinged with a regretful smile. Lexa nodded, her eyes still locked onto Clarke's. "Yes, it does, but this is far from over." They shared a knowing glance before reluctantly heading out of the classroom, each lost in thought.

Throughout the bustling day at Arkadia High, the school's empty spaces bore silent witness to a series of clandestine moments. At every opportune moment, Clarke, driven by a potent mixture of affection, playful mischief, and perhaps even a dash of Spirit Week fervor, found a way to steer Lexa into a momentarily deserted classroom or a conveniently shadowed supply closet.

The door would barely have time to click shut before Clarke would close the distance between them, capturing Lexa's lips in soft, lingering kisses. These weren't just displays of affection; they were little stolen moments of connection amidst the chaos of the school day.

Every time they emerged, there was a slight flush to their cheeks, their smiles barely suppressed, as if they were privy to a secret the rest of the school could only guess at. Lexa began to anticipate these spontaneous rendezvous, the unpredictability adding a layer of excitement to the rhythm of their day. The spirit of competition and the gentle tug of romance had them both ensnared in a dance only they understood.

Wednesday dawned, bringing with it the anticipated College/Pro sports t-shirt jersey day. Most of the Arkadia High staff approached the theme with predictable choices, donning jerseys and shirts of well-known teams.

However, Clarke wasn't one to be outdone, especially with what many deemed a rather straightforward theme. She arrived donning an ink-splashed jersey that immediately drew attention. The vibrant, artistic streaks on the fabric clashed with the neat logo of the Polis University Commanders, her cherished alma mater.

The jersey was a work of art, turning the concept of a mere sports jersey into a canvas of memories, creativity, and loyalty. It wasn't just a nod to her college days; it was a beautiful blend of her past and present, her love for art merging seamlessly with the pride of her university years.

Whispers filled the hallways as both students and faculty members paused to appreciate her ingenious take on the day's theme. Clarke had once again redefined the norms, making a simple jersey day into a statement of her unique identity.

As the morning bell neared, Lexa made her entrance, and it was nothing short of dramatic. Instead of opting for a traditional jersey or t-shirt, she arrived clad in her Arkadia College fencing outfit, a crisp white ensemble that hugged her form, perfectly tailored to every curve and muscle.

The mesh mask dangled casually from her hand, and her foil was secured in a sleek case strapped to her back. The Arkadia College emblem proudly adorned her chest, reflecting her dedication to the sport during her collegiate years.

The sight was both surprising and mesmerizing, drawing a mix of admiring and puzzled glances from students and colleagues alike. It wasn't just a nod to her alma mater, but also a bold statement about her passion and expertise in a sport that demanded precision, discipline, and elegance.

While Clarke had turned the theme into a canvas of creativity, Lexa showcased the art of mastery and skill, reminding everyone that there was more to her than met the eye. The dynamic duo had once again turned an ordinary theme day into a memorable spectacle.

The moment Clarke caught sight of Lexa in her fencing ensemble, her breath hitched. Even though they'd been together for over a year, Lexa's ability to leave her awestruck never waned. The Arkadia College fencing attire suited her perfectly tailored in a way that accentuated her athletic build, making her appear both elegant and formidable.

Clarke was reminded once again just how multifaceted Lexa was; a mathematician, a fencer, a strategic mind, and an incredibly attractive woman. The sleek lines of the white outfit seemed to make Lexa glow, highlighting her already striking features.

Clarke felt a familiar warmth spreading through her, part pride and part desire, as she realized just how fortunate she was to be in a relationship with someone as amazing as Lexa. In a sea of standard jerseys and college t-shirts, Lexa was a vision, taking Clarke's breath away just as easily as she had the very first time they met.

Finding themselves alone in the break room during a brief lull in the school day, Clarke seized the opportunity to comment on Lexa's striking outfit. Her eyes swept appreciatively over Lexa's fencing attire, finally meeting Lexa's gaze with a look that was equal parts admiration and desire.

"You know, I've seen you in various outfits, but this fencing gear is something else," Clarke murmured, her voice tinged with a sense of awe that went beyond the fabric and embroidery. Lexa caught the look and felt a flutter of warmth, fully aware of the magnetic pull she was exerting at that moment. "I aim to keep you on your toes, Clarke. Besides, this uniform has always made me feel powerful," Lexa replied, locking eyes with Clarke as if challenging her to look away.

Clarke took a step closer, her voice lowering to a whisper, "Well, mission accomplished. You look as powerful as you are captivating." The electricity in the room felt palpable, the air thick with the unspoken yet deeply felt connection between them.

Reading the unspoken invitation in Clarke's eyes, Lexa took a decisive step closer, closing the small distance that separated them in the break room. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this today," Lexa murmured softly, her voice tinged with a blend of anticipation and assurance.

Before Clarke could reply, Lexa leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss that melded tenderness with passion, a perfect encapsulation of the intricate dance they'd been performing all week—sometimes playful, sometimes intense, but always filled with unspoken emotion.

The world seemed to narrow down to the space they occupied, the electric charge that had built up between them finding its release. When they finally pulled apart, Lexa looked into Clarke's eyes, both women understanding that no matter the playful competition or the chaos of Spirit Week, their connection remained the most captivating game of all.

On Thursday, the halls of Arkadia High were abuzz with excitement as students and teachers alike showcased their favorite movie characters. But the highlight of the morning was when Lexa walked in, embodying the iconic Princess Leia.

She had opted for Leia's classic white dress, the high-necked, flowing garment accentuating her figure while maintaining an aura of royalty. Her hair was meticulously styled in Leia's signature twin buns on either side of her head, and around her neck hung the silver necklace Leia wore.

The ensemble was completed with knee-high white boots. Students and teachers alike stopped to admire and compliment her choice, recognizing the strong, independent character she represented—a fitting choice for someone like Lexa, who embodied those same qualities in real life.

Clarke, especially, couldn't help but beam with pride and adoration, the sight of Lexa paying homage to one of cinema's most enduring heroines touching a special chord in her heart. The choice was perfect, blending Lexa's grace with the character's iconic strength.

In stark contrast but equally impactful, Clarke showed up as Sarah Connor from the "Terminator" movies. She was dressed in tactical cargo pants, a fitted tank top, and a faux-leather jacket, her look completed with combat boots and a pair of aviator sunglasses perched atop her head.

A toy gun was tucked into a belt holster, adding an extra layer of authenticity to her portrayal. Her biceps, normally hidden under her art-teacher attire, were on full display, and she even managed to rough up her usually clean-cut appearance with a smear of charcoal for makeshift battle grime.

Students and faculty were captivated by her transformation into the relentless, resourceful character, remarking how brilliantly she pulled it off. When Lexa saw her, she was visibly impressed, her eyes scanning Clarke from top to bottom.

Transformed into Sarah Connor, Clarke stood out not just because of her impeccable costume but also because of the raw power she exuded. Her normally gentle blue eyes were steely and determined, her posture radiated strength, and there was a swagger in her step that hinted at a newfound confidence.

Lexa, usually composed and eloquent, found herself without words. The transformation was more than just aesthetic; Clarke embodied the spirit of the fearless warrior she portrayed. Lexa had always known Clarke was strong, both in spirit and character, but seeing her like this — it was as if she was witnessing a side of Clarke she had always known existed but had never seen in full force. It was awe-inspiring, leaving Lexa spellbound and a little breathless, and it took her a few seconds to remember how to speak.

Regaining her composure, Lexa stepped closer to Clarke, her gaze unwavering as she took in every detail of the Sarah Connor ensemble.

"Clarke," Lexa started, her voice low and filled with genuine admiration, "I've always known you to be strong and capable, but this outfit—it amplifies everything about you. It's not just the strength of Sarah Connor that I see, but an undeniable allure. You've managed to embody both power and an alluring charm that's hard to ignore."

Clarke raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips as she caught the hint of desire in Lexa's eyes. "You think I'm sexy, huh?" she teased.

Lexa chuckled, her eyes dancing with unmistakable affection and a hint of desire. "Think? No, Clarke, I don't 'think' you're sexy. I know you're sexy in that outfit," she asserted, letting each word sink in.

"You've captured Sarah Connor's essence so perfectly that it amplifies your own innate strength and allure. It's not just attractive; it's magnetic." Lexa allowed her gaze to drift briefly over Clarke's form once more before locking eyes with her again. "Today, you're not just the art teacher or my incredible girlfriend; you're a force to be reckoned with. And yes, that is incredibly, undeniably sexy."

Clarke's eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and pleasure, her grin stretching wider as she soaked in Lexa's words. It was a moment that encapsulated the balance of their relationship—both strong, both intense, and each finding the other irresistibly captivating.

Reading the mutual admiration in each other's eyes, the electric charge between them reached its natural crescendo. Lexa stepped closer, closing the gap that had felt too wide despite being only a few inches. The air grew thick with anticipation. "May I?" Lexa whispered, almost rhetorically, as Clarke's eyes answered before her lips could.

With that unspoken consent, Lexa gently cradled Clarke's face in her hands, her thumbs caressing her cheeks. Clarke's eyes fluttered closed as Lexa leaned in, both of them feeling as if they were the only people in the world at that moment.

When their lips finally met, it was as if a current ran through them — a tender, yet potent connection that conveyed more than words ever could. The kiss was soft, lingering, a delicate expression of love and a potent reminder of the electric chemistry that they shared. They parted slowly, both slightly breathless, and Clarke couldn't help but think that if this was the power of Spirit Week, then let every week be so spirited.

When Clarke walked through the doors of Arkadia High on Friday morning, she felt the full weight of school spirit envelop her. The hallways were awash in the school's colors, but Clarke had decided to make her own unique statement for School Colors Day.

She wore a tasteful, tailored black pencil skirt that stopped just above the knees, paired with a crimson blouse that seemed to shimmer in the morning light. To complete her outfit, she donned a pair of stylish black ankle boots and a red and black scarf that perfectly captured the day's theme.

As she carried her art supplies to her classroom, she couldn't help but notice the approving glances from both students and faculty. It was clear that she'd nailed the spirit of the day, blending her own artistic flair with Arkadia High's iconic red and black. And as she spotted Lexa down the hall, her heart leapt with excitement, not just for the day ahead but for the simple joy of sharing this spirited week with the woman she loved.

Lexa, always one for understated elegance, chose to embody the spirit of the day in a way that reflected both her professional demeanor and her personal style. She wore a well-tailored black pantsuit that fit her like a glove, accentuating her lean frame.

Underneath the blazer, she opted for a deep red silk blouse that added a splash of vibrant color, contrasting strikingly with her dark attire. To complete the look, she added a narrow red tie, giving her outfit a final touch of school pride without compromising her inherent sophistication. On her feet, she wore black leather loafers that provided both style and comfort. As she made her way through the hallways of Arkadia High, she felt not just the school spirit but also her own unique contribution to it. When her eyes met Clarke's from across the corridor, she knew instantly that they had both succeeded in not just honoring their school's tradition, but in adding a bit of themselves into the mix.

Throughout the day, it seemed as though fate conspired to keep Lexa and Clarke apart. Whether it was meetings, classroom sessions running overtime, students needing additional attention, or even a misplaced set of keys, the pair could never quite find the elusive moment to connect.

Both were keenly aware of the other's presence in the building, feeling it like a magnetic pull, yet every time they seemed poised to intersect, something would come in the way. It was almost comical, and by lunchtime, the shared, almost telepathic glances they shot each other across the courtyard were ones of amused frustration.

The day's bustling activities culminated in the much-awaited pep rally for homecoming, and it was amidst the loud cheers, music, and colorful banners that Lexa and Clarke finally found themselves side by side. Their hands brushed against each other, a shared smile passed between them, and in the midst of the roaring school spirit, they found a quiet, intimate moment, understanding that sometimes, anticipation only sweetened the eventual reunion.

In the school's bustling gymnasium, anticipation hung thick in the air as the student council prepared to announce the Spirit Week winners. When the student winner's name was called out, a burst of cheers erupted from a corner of the gym, accompanied by the jubilant cries of the victor's friends.

However, it was the announcement of the teacher winner that caught most by surprise. The name "Ms. Reyes" echoed through the gym's speakers, causing many students to exchange shocked looks. The computer science teacher, always ensconced in her tech-laden classroom and generally perceived as reserved, was the last person most had expected to win.

As Ms. Reyes rose from her seat, a modest smile on her face, applause filled the gym. Clarke and Lexa glanced at each other in mild surprise, realizing that in their playful competition and mutual admiration, they hadn't noticed Ms. Reyes's quiet participation in Spirit Week. Yet, as they clapped along with the rest, both felt genuine happiness for their colleague, reminding them that sometimes, the quietest participants make the loudest impact.

As the announcement settled in and the applause for Ms. Reyes continued to resonate through the gymnasium, Lexa and Clarke simultaneously turned towards each other, a mixture of disbelief and amusement evident in their eyes.

Clarke, always the more expressive of the two, let out a light chuckle. "Raven Reyes, huh? Should've seen that coming," she remarked with a playful grin.

Lexa shook her head, her lips curving into a smirk. "Of all the people to be outdone by… Raven," she responded, her tone light and teasing.

They both knew Raven was a formidable force in her own right, always surprising everyone with her hidden talents and unwavering spirit. Their eyes locked in mutual mirth, and they both burst into soft laughter.

Neither had anticipated being bested by the computer science teacher, but the revelation only added to the fond memories of Spirit Week.

As the week's events concluded and the halls began to empty, the competition that had once seemed all-consuming was now just a fond memory. Clarke leaned against a locker, her gaze finding Lexa's across the corridor. "I've got to admit," Clarke began with a chuckle, "this was one of the most memorable Spirit Weeks I've ever experienced."

Lexa grinned, walking closer, "Agreed. And as much as I loved our little rivalry," she playfully nudged Clarke, "it's the shared moments and memories that matter the most."

Clarke nodded, "It's not about winning, but about the journey and the fun we had along the way."

The two exchanged a knowing smile, understanding that the true reward wasn't a title or prize, but the strengthened bond they'd forged amidst the playful challenges.

With the week behind them, they looked forward to many more shared experiences, knowing that every moment, competition or not, was an opportunity to grow closer together.

#clextober #Clextober23 #7DaysofClexa #clexa spirit week #ok so after my mini disaster #i found part of the draft i had written #this is not the full story #but it hits the clexa parts #5073 words #as always grammerly and word are my beta readers

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wolfsbane44 · 1 year

Text

-- Rescue Me--

Summary: Bellamy x Reader. Bellamy rescues you from Mt Weather, knowing you need to get to Clarke. He loves you and will do anything to protect you, and make you happy...including taking you for the first time in the forest.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Implied harm, implied entrapment and kidnapping, Scars, Mental health, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, voyeurism, swearing.

I have never done anything with the Reader involved, so It may be a little rough around the edges (or really rough idk lol- but let me know where I can improve)

You and Bellamy had been hiking for miles. With Mt Weather as far as you could put it at your back. So far the Grounders had left you in peace but you weren't sure they wanted to do with anything that came from the mountain. You needed to get to Clarke as fast as you could, but the last time you saw her she was not the same. Lexa dying had changed her, made her into something that no one wished to see. Wanheda had been unleashed, there was no stopping her, she wouldn't even listen to those of us who came down first.

Bel wanted us to stop to find some water and a place to sleep for the night. You were not objecting, especially when he found a small freshwater spring. It was the dead of summer and had to be at least a hundred degrees, and you hadn't seen a shower in lord knows how long. They kept you below. Using your blood and others like you to fix their people. You had been on the Ark with them all, but there was something different in your blood, they would take and take for tests and experiments. Not giving it to their citizens but to their soldiers. They had done this for months now. Scars riddling your arms and legs from the countless needles and restraints they kept you in.

“Breathe sweetheart” Bel whispered. He could see the terror in your eyes as the memories flooded back into your head. He was the one who had saved you. Your knight in shining armor… if that even existed anymore. He had learned what they were doing to you but knew he couldn't take you out immediately. He had to have a plan, otherwise, he would end up in the cages with you. Every day he brought me fresh food and water. Risking being caught, but he never missed one day. You thought that was honesty the only thing that kept you sane.

Stripping off your clothes and getting into the spring was agonizing. It wasn't blissful like people talk about after a “hard day's work” -whatever that was, you had only had a hard life, no breaks- there was no relaxing as you stepped in. The cold waters pierced your bones and your still-healing wounds ached. “Let me help you,” he said reaching his hand out to yours. He was already undressed. This was the first time you had seen all of him. But he had seen you like this every day. Shame washed over your face as you pulled away from him. He didn't push further.

Sinking into the water finally, you let yourself be scrubbed clean. You weren't arguing as you were so sore you could barely move. He let you float in the water as long as you needed, although he got out to wash our clothes. They were all you had other than an extra pair of socks and underwear, and the supplies in the bag that Bellamy had brought. Ration bars, canteens, and a knife. He started a fire in hopes that the smoke would keep the bugs away for the night but kept it small in fear of being spotted. Set his traps for small game praying we wouldn't have to eat rations. You got out and put on your clean underwear as you waited for your clothes to dry. It wouldn't be long with the wind blowing in over the valley.

Bellamy had offered to take the first watch but he never woke you up for yours. He knew you needed sleep, especially after watching you thrash all night- dreaming of lord knows what they did to you that you hadn't told him. It hurt him to see you like this, he knew there was nothing he could do to take this pain away. So he did the only thing he knew how to do, hide and protect you. He had done if for his sister on the Ark, and after falling head over heels for you he would do anything for you down here too. Sunrise came slowly. Bellamy heard a twig snap and immediately woke you up.

With his hand pressed against your mouth, you woke up screaming. It brought back too much, pure panic rushed in your body. You met his stare, his eyes gleaming with nothing but protection and love for you. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you but he wanted you to be able to run if need be. Following him to do what he called a “Perimeter sweep” he discovered it was his trap that had been sprung. A fresh rabbit lay on the ground, still twitching as if its nerves still fighting for its life. Like you had been.

Bellamy ended it swiftly for the poor creature but you couldn't watch. He let you go back and float in the spring again while he prepared the meat. The small fire was just enough to cook the rabbit. It had been at least a month since you even smelled cook meat, let alone tasted it. Your mouth watered. He cooked your portion first, bringing it to you and letting you enjoy those last few minutes before you had to start hiking again.

If you were able to keep the pace you were at, you would be able to reach Arkadia by nightfall. Bellamy walked hand in hand with you even singing to you to make the time pass. To make you think of anything other than fear. Stopping for a break around midday, you saw sweat glistening off of him. Taking his shirt off to cool down you saw the muscles that lined his beautiful torso. He caught you enjoying yourself and taking him all in.

Walking over to you he stooped down and placed a kiss on top of your head, then your nose, and finally your mouth. It wasn't long before his hands found their way into your shirt. Begging him to take it off, as you could see the fire in his eyes. He wanted you, all of you, right here and now. Your kiss hardened and turned passionate, tongues clashing he picked you up and set you on his lap, and you wrapped your legs and arms around him.

You could feel his length hardening beneath you. The wetness pooling at your core. The ache in your stomach, longing for him to fill you up. He could sense it as he picked you up and laid you on your back in one swift but gentle motion. His body pushing against yours he only stopped to take off your pants. His eyes went straight to your core “Fuck sweetheart, all of that for me” he whined. His eyes meeting yours, all you could do is say “Bel… Please” and he knew what that meant. He was so gentle with you always making sure you were okay. Sitting between your legs he traced one long line up your slit with his tongue. Pure bliss washed over you, you hadn't felt this way in a long time. Before you could think anymore his mouth had begun to ravage you. His tongue flicked small circles on your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance, making sure you would be ready to take him. Slowly he pushed one inside, then another, and you moaned “Bellamy, fuck me please!” pumping a couple more times touching that perfect spot inside you he pulled you close into a kiss.

Reaching for his belt, then his zipper, you pulled his member out as fast as you could. He was above average, but not so big that he would hurt you. He was perfect. Pumping him with your hands a few times he pushed you back and lined himself at your entrance. Passing a glance to check on you, you nodded and he slowly pushed inside of you. All the way to the hilt. Pleasure washed over you as the very tip of him kissed the spot inside that he knew would send you over the edge. He started thrusting slowly. He didn't want to just fuck you. He wanted to love you. This was your first time with him and he wanted you to enjoy it, feeling all of him. He lifted your legs up, positioning your knees by your chest, his hands pushing down on the backs of your thighs and helping him balance. He began slamming into you. White washed over your eyes and ringing pierced your ears before you could tell him you were close.

Coming back down his hand began making small circles on your clit. He fucking loved seeing you this way, seeing you ride out your high with him buried deep inside you. You were so close to cumming again when you saw his breath stagger. “Come in me” you begged him. You needed to feel his warmth inside of you. Just as you felt that seed spill into you, your own high washed over you sending you back into oblivion. His pumping slowed and came to a halt. He lowered your legs and began cleaning you up. He thanked himself for bringing some hygiene supplies because his thick white cum poured out of you dripping down your bottom.

You let him clean you and help you get dressed, you both knew you needed to start hiking again if you were going to make it home in time. “That was the hottest shit I have seen in a while Bellamy” came from the trees. Eyes spinning around. Murphy. He really sat there and watched it all. No embarrassment washed over you but relief as you ran to hug him. You had no idea how he escaped the mountain. He was your best friend and had been since you had been imprisoned in the Ark. You never had a thing for him but you could see how pissed Bel was that he watched.

“How about next time I join in” Murphy jokingly shouted from ahead the trail. You smirked at Bellamy knowing this was going to be a long hike home.

#the 100 #bellamy blake #bellamy smut #bellamy x reader #forest

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