#godlexa

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Weird Fishes

Summary: Clarke is not Clarke; Lexa is not Lexa. That thirst though, that thirst is real.

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After seven lifetimes on the same sun-reddened and forsaken planetary outpost on the outskirts of human reason, you’d think you’d be as immune to the dawn of another day as you were to the rest of it. The eating, the breathing, the waking up in a body that was not your own….but then, there was always the little thrill of knowing that yet again, you had somehow managed to evade death, and that at least for a little bit more, you were one step ahead of whatever it was you were supposed to be running from.

Which is why, the first night back was always spent in knowing, feeling, discovering your new body. And, like every good Prime, there was the ecstasy, and the inevitable pushing away of the agony, and like a very good Prime, the denial that any life other than your own mattered. Et alors on danse.