#demon!lexa

I'm currently reading (again) "The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To..." etc etc, and while reading the first part of the 9th chapter, -- precisely the following two paragraphs:

"Wings twitched, fluffed, and ruffled in minute movements that hinted of dreams filled with flight. The warm blanket of feathers tickled Clarke's skin as the muscles of Lexa's back jumped in tiny jerks, leaving Clarke wishing she could see even a glimpse of whatever marvel was taking place within Lexa's sleeping mind. She lived for the feel of toes curling against her shin and the scent of floral shampoo. The one that mixed so deliciously with the lotion Lexa put on before bed. Lived for the way sleepy hands grasped at her, sought her out, and every other messy way Lexa slept when Clarke was in her bed. "

-- I couldn't help but wonder, does Lexa clean her wings? Since there's no biblical explanation (I guess) of how angels clean their wings, and it's even worst for the "fallen" ones, I had no option but think of big birds preening their wings (oh dear god this is getting ridiculous) - however, that demon is indeed very cautious with lotions, perfumes and shampoo, and self-care stuff. I then pictured a moment where Lexa could use some… Specific body lotion which worked smoothly on her wings? Maybe Clarke could help her? Maybe I'm being a pain in the ass since, from time to time, I get so obsessed with cleaning that I start to think about it while reading or watching a movie!!!! (for example: how the fuck they can have a working routine like that, bang like animals and do not make a single house cleaning, how they afford that lifestyle and manages to clean such big house etcetc), but AT THE SAME TIME I KNOW I have to chill the fuck out and don't be so petty with small details, but YEAH here I am wondering non-stop how this demon do the daily-care of her wings.

Sorry for bothering you with that silliness. I love all of your fics as you are well-aware, byeeeeeee.

🤣🤣 never apologize this is funny. And honestly, better than asking about Lexa's toilet needs (which has happened, and no, I don't want to go back there 😔)

And fair because I do think about that stuff too when I watch shows! I realize internally I'm being such a pain in the ass with my own thoughts but it's like?? Where part of me can release reality and just enjoy the fiction, another part of me is constantly thinking of the things that are never addressed. Perfect example. Buffy. Loved the show, adored it. Who paid for all the repairs to the house? Who cleaned that big ass place? Who mowed the grass and kept up the flower beds? That house was always spotless, and ALSO it took like a week to have major structural damage repaired on a regular basis. It took me a week and a half just to get a contractor out to look at my broken screen door.

But I digress.

Truthfully, Lexa doesn't have to clean herself much at all. She's an angel/demon, her body doesn't work quite like a human's, she's just extra when it comes to enjoying earthly amenities. She likes the pampering. She likes the hot water and smelling like different soaps and lotions. Beyond cleaning blood and the vestiges of their dirty raw sex off her body, none of them are strictly necessary, she just enjoys them 😌

For the wings specifically, they do not get washed at all, no. She retracts them almost every time she showers/bathes because they're ginormous anyway and honestly it can be a way bigger hastle when getting out. One accidental flap and "😑great, fuck, now there's water on every inch of the bathroom." They're impervious—even hellfire itself only managing to turn them black—and that fully includes water and blood just beading on them and running off. They naturally feel like the cool-wet slip of satin or silk so there's nothing to like, condition or anything. Soap would be useless because there's nothing to clean, and their natural scent would dominate any other perfuming on them specifically.

Lexa would be kind of torn on Valentine's day tbh because on the one hand, what a stupid idea. What a ridiculous human invention, having a special day for something like that. You're supposed to love your partner everyday, but there needs to be a day devoted to remembering to do that??

Just... ridiculous.

But on the other hand?

On the less cynical hand?

Oh, the way she would still participate in it 👀

Not like, overtly. No teddy bears, no candy hearts, no boxes of chocolates. Her disdain for anything cupid shaped would palpable. Would quite literally rip the little wings off any caricature she found just to be a dick.

But her romanticism would come out. Her doting nature that washes over Clarke. Waking Clarke up gentle kisses, using single feather that had fallen from her wings to smooth across Clarke's cheek as she blinks awake. All soft and pouty lips looking just as she does in her softest moments. Warm and gooey as she breathes a simple, "Good morning, my love... Sorry for waking you, I missed you terribly." Because Clarke's lingering human need to sleep steals valuable hours from her enjoyment of Clarke's company, apparently.

She'd insist on a late morning walk to the coffeeshop, wearing something entirely too form-fitting and scantily cut for a trip to get coffee but, well, it's Lexa and she enjoys feeling Clarke's eyes on her.

And her hands.

Mostly her hands.

It also wouldn't escape Clarke's notice that the sweater she adopted from Lexa's closet is freshly washed and neatly placed on top of everything else. Vaguely already smelling of that particular sweet spice of Lexa's rich incense infused scent... almost as if Lexa wore it for just a bit to get it perfect... of course there's no way to ever know. Lexa denying the mere suggestion without ever looking up from the curiosity that suddenly is her hot chocolate.

Lexa would deign to buy Clarke her usual red velvet cupcake, making sure to roll her eyes at the addition of red and pink sprinkles for the day (though still insisting on buying her a second one for later. For dessert after dinner, sensibly)

The majority of the day would be spent at home though, because at heart, Lexa is a homebody. She's seen the world, she knows what it has to offer... and all she wants is right there next to her. Slipping her fingers through Lexa's and resting her head on Lexa's shoulder while they watch horror movies all afternoon. Eating the not-quite-right-but-A-for-effort dinner Lexa makes like it's five star cuisine just because Lexa made it. It's taken some time, but she's realized that actually means something important to Clarke. So she does it.

It's spending the day in her underwear and a tanktop while Clarke mindlessly threads her fingers through the feathers of Lexa's wings. It's soft kisses as thank you's and check-in's and even more for absolutely no reason. It's Lexa saying both tiny sweet nothings and the filthiest things she can think of in languages she knows Clarke cannot understand, because once Clarke realized Lexa can speak quite literally all human languages, it has become some bizarre aphrodisiac for her. Dirty little whispers in French. Soft murmurs of devotion in Spanish. Rambling off part of the grocery list in Italian until Clarke catches a word she recognizes and whacks a laughing Lexa with a pillow.

It's nothing, and it's everything. It's valentine's day, but it's also not, because these aren't things Lexa and Clarke save for just one day. They do them all the time, over and over, but... Lexa tries to make sure Clarke feels the weight of her devotion especially that day. Even without being overt about it, she knows Clarke can feel it.

Could demon Lexa walk around with her wings out?

Professor Lexa and Clarke would do a couple's costume, and it would probably be the dorkiest fucking thing in the entire world. Like obscure references to shit that Madi would take one look at and just, "...... eeeww" at the nerd factor of it all.

MBFW Clexa absolutely have in the past and would continue to. But make no mistake, that is all Clarke driving that boat 🥴 Lexa will dress up in pretty much anything she puts in front of her. Glitter, headpiecea, face paint, spandex, leather, whatever she needs for a look. They even go as 2/4ths of the Golden Girls (which ultimately made for some really disturbing photos when the group's Dorothy and Rose decided to have a filthy makeout while grinding on the dancefloor.) (Not Clexa's best photographically documented night. Not their worst either.) Point is, Lexa may hold up the outfit and sigh in preemptive embarrassment, yes, but she never has and never will say no to one of Clarke's fuckass costume ideas, including into when they have kids and it becomes a family affair.

And yes Demon Lexa would absolutely use Halloween as an excuse to walk around the wings out 👀. She'd go full vampire/angel of death motif complete with stockings and corset just to compete the whole "I come bearing the sin of pure sex" vibe. Hair perfectly curled and tumbling over one shoulder and thick, dark eyeliner that makes her stare all the more haunting. All she'd need is a few soft strips of leather to rig up a little chest harness that wraps around her front and sits snug against her shoulder blades to hide the base of the wings.

Truly, the only problem would be: Clarke.

Specifically, handsy Clarke.

Even more specifically, handsy Clarke that knows the little purrs that erupt from Lexa's chest when she strokes or scratches the wings in a particularly sensitive spot.

Do Demon!Clarke and Lexa watch Lucifer?

If so, what would Lexa think?

I think Clarke would love the show, and Lexa would despise it, but still watch it with her for complicated and contradictory reasons lol

Clarke is well aware that Lucifer is just a dramedy type thing. She's met the guy. He's not that charming. He's smarmy. Like the personification of the word 'oily' but in essence form. His voice is smooth but sinister in this entrancing sort of way, and while the show makes it seems sexy and alluring, she knows intimately that it's not. It's more like... being alone in your house at night and suddenly hearing a faint strange noise from the other room. It's that battle to tell yourself it's fine, it's nothing... but your hear still drops for a moment. The hairs in your arms stand up. You coil within the tension in your muscles and that unnerving feeling of suddenly being too aware of your own body. Your own heartbeat.

What he offers is seductive, he himself is not.

Lexa on the other hand? Oof. Imagine Clarke peeking over every few minutes just to find that normally relaxed and carefree face looking at the screen in brittle silence. Eyes flicking all over the screen while her fulls lips pinch down into a hard line; as if constantly biting back a snarl. Seeing every flex and tick of Lexa's jaw at certain parts because, "this is fucking absurd."

And it's not that Lexa would do any of that to like purposefully try to ruin the experience for Clarke, it just is what it is. Her heavy sighs bringing a smile to Clarke's face because she knows Lexa's thought something was particularly stupid. Lexa's monumental scoff the first time Lucifer reveals his pearly white wings, followed by a 5 minute diatribe while the show is paused so Lexa can explain in vehement detail how, no, the little fucker does not have his wings. She watched with her own two eyes as they were torn from his body! That he wouldn't seem so hot if they got a look at the true atrocity he prances about with:

a rancid creation of bones and rotted skin stetched and stitched together to create his perverse imitation of still having "wings".

His 'caring for others' is a laugh. His 'ability to love' is deluded. His walking amongst human—the very beings he warred with his creator over!—a fairytale.

So it would be... complicated. But still happen. Ya know what I mean? Like of course they'd watch it. But there'd be a lot of guffawing at things.

It really doesn't help that nearly every episode would conclude with Lexa grumbling out, "The real one isn't even remotely that charming. Or handsome."

To which Clarke, just being real, has to contend, "Well... supposedly he was the most beautiful—"

"Well in my opinion, he wasn't."

"Yeah but I can't really trust your opinion on this one. You're a lesbian, babe."

"What does that have to do with—Clarke, he's my brother."

"That doesn't really... help your... argument... either..."

Renaissance fair would = pouty Demon Lexa face. You'd think—YOU'D THINK—she would love the drama and ridiculousness of it all, but in reality? No. No, all Clarke would get is huffs of "that's not accurate" and "people didn't actually wear those like that ya know" and "that chainmail is so flimsy I could tear it with my bare hands."

"Babe. You can tear any chainmail with your bare hands 🤨."

"......... Irrelevant."

There'd be eyerolls along with stories of her adventures during that time period of human history that she assures Clarke is not worth romanticizing. Assurances that most people smelled and the food was terrible and how everyone was already so superstitious and hyper-religious that it just took all the fun out of her demony antics 😕

The only saving grace would be: Clarke in a long flowly skirt that flared at the hips and a skintight corset that pushed her cleavage up to her chin. Clarke is a very good partner. She planned ahead for such an occasion.

As for a fair?

Now that would actually be more Lexa's cup of tea, but only after given enough time to get into it. Her discovering an obscene affinity for funnel cakes (made all the sweeter from Clarke laughing and licking a rogue bit of powdered sugar off the tip of her nose) (overzealous eater, you understand). Lexa is a sweets girl and a bottomless pit to go along with it, so they would spend a small fortune on the gnarliest desserts known to mankind.

And that's not even touching on Lexa vs. fair games.

Smashing the axe throwing booth and actually having to hold back on the test of strength, the baseball toss one that everything swears is rigged but Lexa accidentally almost takes the target of its hinges. She's not exactly competitive per se, but it's always fun to show off, and while Clarke pretends to not notice how Lexa seems to keep "misplacing" her prizes after a few minutes everytime they pass by an empty-handed kid, she does make it a point to pull Lexa behind one of the less crowded beer tents and have a slow dirty makeout with her for 10 solid minutes.

The only hiccup would be after taking Lexa on a rollercoaster. Pulling to a stop and looking over to see black glittering eyes and sharpened teeth between a wide open smile. Because it's adorable and she's glad that Lexa is obviously having a good time, but also,,,, "The only other time I've seen you accidentally make that face is when we fuck 🤨 so what's up with that?"

Congratulations! You have somehow made this worse than its ever been!

nO❤ one of my old betas @100hearteyes who is a fuckin asshole! (Affectionate)(derogatory)(i talk to her pm everyday) was proofreading a chapter of Demon au where Clarke is gettin all feely on the wings and Lexa reacts because it feels nice, and instead of thinking, "Oh! It's comforting! Like running your fingers through someones hair and them getting a pleasant roll of chills down their body 🥰" this demonic Portuguese gremlin sends back the comment, "hehe they're sensitive to the touch huh. So Lexa's got penis wings"

I really hate that we're using the word erect because this is... not an unrealistic representation of what could happen 😔

This just makes me a think of a day when Clarke is sick and Demon!Lexa takes it upon herself to "play nurse." She's caring. She's... nurturing... sort of. She attentive and giving with her love.

Which is made very difficult given the fact that she's dating Clarke "I can take care of myself" Griffin who refuses to rake any and all help, much less advice.

So when Clarke has already slept through most of the day and sweat through her entire lounging outfit (pilfered from Lexa's closet), chest congested and coughs sounding like she's gargling broken glass, Lexa makes the executive decision that a shower is needed.

Preferably a shared one.

At the third hotly snipped, "I'm fine-d Lextha, just leave me alone," said through nose full of snot, well that's when Clarke gets unceremoniously hoisted up over Lexa's shoulder, given a consoling smooch and smack on the ass while being informed that "this isn't a negotion", and carried to the bathroom.