❛ ❛    yes.    ❜ ❜

FILE:         𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙴 𝙶𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙽                 ( 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝙷𝙴𝙳𝙰:                 𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷 )      KILL COUT :             1,000+                 ( 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙽:   GUN ) ALIAS :         prisioner   319,    princess,    mountain   slayer,          𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐀. 

                                 * THEY   CALL   HER   THE   COMMANDER   OF   DEATH

KNOWN WEAKNESS:         family,   her people,   𝙶𝚄𝙸𝙻𝚃    

described   by   mallory          *&   based   in   𝐒𝟎𝟏  -   𝐒𝟎𝟓    of   𝖙𝖍𝖊   𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖉.          the   𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖔   is   a   𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗.           canon -  flexible,                au’s   welcome.          ship    selective   but   inclusive. 

the   last   person   she   kissed   𝖉𝖎𝖉𝖓’𝖙   𝖊𝖝𝖎𝖘𝖙.                   (   &   how   fucked   up   was   𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?                     she   wanted   to   know   who,           WHO   THE   HELL   WROTE   THAT   PART   OF   THE   CODE,           that   part   of   the   story?                       the   part   where   cillian   fucks   her,           only   to   drive   the   needle   into   her   skin.                     he   could   have   drugged   her   the   minute   they   were   alone.                       so   why,           𝐖𝐇𝐘   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋   𝐃𝐈𝐃   𝐇𝐄   𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃   𝐓𝐎   𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊   𝐇𝐄𝐑   𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓?                       &&   why   did   she   have   to   watch   another   lover   die,           real   or   not?   )

niylah,            it   turns   out,           𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲   𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬.                         𝙻𝙴𝚇𝙰   𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂𝙽’𝚃.                                                                [      ...     ]

𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄   𝐈𝐒   𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄.                        nicer   than   anywhere   she’s   ever   been,           maybe.                         when   she   was   younger,            𝖙𝖍𝖊   𝖌𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖘   𝖍𝖆𝖉   𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞.                       but   not   like   this,           NEVER   LIKE   THIS.   

she   feels   out   of   place   in   her   worn   old   jeans,            the   bottoms   hacked   off   in   order   to   fit   her   properly.                       IT   HELPS   THAT   SHE   CAN’T   REALLY   IMAGINE   ROAN   CARING   WHAT   SHE   WORE.                       not   when   the   first   time   they   met   𝐬𝐡𝐞   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝   𝐢𝐧   𝐦𝐮𝐝.                       at   least   𝐢𝐧   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝   she’s   bathed   in   the   last   week.

❛ ❛    how   do   i   know   that   this   is   real?   ❜ ❜                      SHE   KNOWS   THERE’S   𝐍𝐎   𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   EVEN   BEFORE   SHE   ASKS.                                                                   [     ...     ] by   the   time   he   𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬   𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐚   𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤   CLARKE’S   ALREADY   MADE   UP   HER   MIND.                        she   shrugs   &&   tells   him   she’ll   have   𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗   𝖍𝖊’𝖘   𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌.                       she’s   planning   on   tasting   it   on   his   tongue   in   a   few   minutes   anyway.                                                                     [     ...     ] clarke   wants   to   know   who   wrote   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝   𝚘𝚏   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎   which   made   lexa’s   lips   so   soft,           how   they   create   the   smell   of   her   cunt   from   a   bunch   of   𝟶′𝚂   &&   𝟷′𝚂   &&   𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻   𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙲𝙺𝚂   SENT   INTO   CLARKE’S   BRAIN. she   also   wants   to   know   if   it   feels   𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙  now.                       to   kiss   someone   IN   THIS   WORLD.                                                                  [     ...     ]

𝖍𝖊   𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖘   𝖎𝖙   𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌,            if   only   because   he’s   so   damn   tall   that   clarke   has   to   get   him   to   lean   down   in   order   to   actually   do   it.                       the   upside   is   that   the   leaning   down,            IT   GIVES   HIM   ROOM   TO   REJECT   IT.                       𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬.                       but   he   doesn’t.                       roan’s   lips   are   soft   too,            BUT   THIS   KISS   ISN’T.                       that’s   fine   with   clarke.                       she   doesn’t   need   gentle.                      at   least   not   right   now.                       maybe   not   ever   again.                       SHE’S   ALRIGHT   WITH   FEELING   𝐀   𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄   𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋. she   doesn’t   put   a   lot   of   thought   into   how   she   kisses,           doesn’t   𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍   the   movement   of   her   lips   in   order   to   𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞   𝐡𝐢𝐦   𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐧,           or   whatever   the   fuck   she   figures   normal   girls   would   do   when   kissing   roan   king.                       she   doesn’t   try   to   impress   him.                        she   doesn’t   try   to   𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘   him.                        SHE   JUST   DOES   WHAT   FEELS   GOOD.                                           there’s   something   freeing   in   that.  

     ’       let       me       take       a       look       .    .    .       ’       @damndeath               ADRIFT    IN    A    SEA    OF    REMORSE.            transmitter    still    occupies    betwixt    digits    ,    they’re    lax    -    -    -    weak.    static    fills    the    speaker    ,    raven    long    gone    after    confirming    the    deaths    of    hundreds    in    mount    weather.    confirming    that    his    blind    trust    in    a    grounder    got    his    people    killed.    pike    was    right    ,    the    entire    time.    they    can’t    be    trusted. vocals    are    soft    ,    sympathetic    ,         &         familiar.         IT’S    CLARKE.         his    gaze    finds    her    ,    skin    adorned    in    war    paint.         she    looks    like    lexa.         she    looks    like    them.    bellamy    immediately    pulls    away    from    her    touch    ,         ❝         i’m    fine    ,    clarke.         ❞         a    few    knicks    ,    a    few    scrapes.    it’s    nothing    compared    to    the    fire    that    ignited    their    people         &         burned    them    all    to    ash. ANOTHER    BURDEN    FOR    HIM    TO    BEAR. MORE    BLOOD    ON    HIS    HANDS. ❝         i    need    to    get    back    ,         ❞         he    swallows    thickly    ,    unsteady    digits    returning    transmitter    to    holder.         ❝         we    both    should.         ❞

when   she   catches   his   wrist   in   her   hand,             it’s   not   a   generous   thing.                     (   ...  when   she   catches   his   wrist   in   her   hand,        she   𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖘   for   a   moment   at   how   thick   it   is   between   her   fingers,         HOW   THE   WARMTH   OF   HIS   SKIN   MAKES   HER   OWN   SEEM   GHOSTLY,         as   if   painted   with   𝖆𝖘𝖍   𝖔𝖗   𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙.   )                     the   way   clarke   cares   for   for   bellamy   is          mostly   selfish.                     she   lets   bombs   drop,          risks   his   sister’s   life   to   keep   him   safe.                     not   because   he   wants   to   be   alive,        BUT   BECAUSE   OF   ALL   THE   THINGS   SHE   CAN   BEAR,        𝐇𝐈𝐌   𝐃𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐈𝐒𝐍’𝐓   𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐎𝐅   𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌.

                                  ❛ ❛    not   yet.  ❜ ❜  there   are   other’s   who   could   patch   him   up.                     miller’s   gotten   𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝   at   bandaging   wounds.                     (   clarke’s   throat   tightens   when   she   realizes   she’s   not   even   sure   if   miller’s   here,        IN   POLIS.                     there   was   𝖆   𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊   when   she   knew   exactly   where   every   one   of   her   people   was,           𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳   &&   𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴.                     all   huddled   within   the   walls   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲   𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭   around   the   dropship.                     that   time   is   over   now.  ) the   point   is,        SOMEONE   ELSE   COULD   DO   IT.   

bellamy   would   probably   prefer   that.                      clarke   can’t   really   claim   that   she   𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙   wants   to   make   sure   his   wounds   get   looked   after.                      𝙵𝙾𝚁   𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃   𝙰   𝙼𝙸𝙽𝚄𝚃𝙴   𝙾𝚁   𝚃𝚆𝙾,        she   wants   to   be   the   one   who   heals   him   again.