Snippet of an as-yet-untitled super angsty akiangel au
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"Aki," Angel repeats, wrapping his tongue around each syllable as if he wants to know how they taste. He blinks a few times, eyes half-lidded as he looks up at Aki's face, eyes on the glowing end of his cigarette.
"Those things'll kill you, you know," he says, and Aki supposes that's his idea of a joke. He laughs.
"The brain tumour will probably get me first," he says, and he means for it to be funny but it doesn't come out that way. Angel doesn't have a response for that and Aki understands. He doesn't have one either, can't think of anything appropriate to say, so they sit there in silence, looking out at the bustle of the city below.
"I'm sorry," Angel says after a minute. "I'd give you my years if I could."
"And I'd take them," Aki admits, taking another drag on his cigarette. "I don't want to die."
"And I do," Angel replies. "We make quite the pair."
“I’m taking you out of here,” he said, voice dropping to a low hiss. “You’ll understand everything later but right now we need to move.”
A shiver traced up her spine and through her ribs, struck by a sudden and impossible idea. But what other explanation was there? No one else knew she was here. Her heart skipped in her chest, thrumming with the hope she thought she’d burned out of it.
She leaned forward, breathless with anticipation, and asked, “Did Joel send you?”
Awhile back, I asked y’all to send me a song so I could take its energy, lyrics, and/or feeling and write you a 1000-word Clexa fic.
This little one-shot rooftop au is the second in that series. It’s based on Say Yes to Heaven by Lana Del Rey, as requested by @little-lionessa.
You can also find it on AO3.
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They aren’t supposed to be up there, but everyone is anyhow. They always are. Slow drinking, low talking, playing guitar or sometimes a mandolin. So many people, but not really a party—a gathering, really.
It’s a view that demands your attention. A bay with giant bridges that seem like miracles, a dark and jagged skyline cutting across the horizon. Sometimes fog crawls through the Golden Gate and across the Bay, creeping through the trees in the flats below. Sometimes the sun shatters into pieces on the water. Sometimes a hint of the ocean shimmers on the other side of everything.
It’s a view that demands that you keep your voice down.
Lexa takes a sip of expensive whiskey from a cheap red plastic cup. She stands at the edge of the rooftop, a narrow guardrail hemming her in. Her eyes move from the sunset breaking over the water to a group gathered around the guitar. Back and forth. Not like a pendulum—more like the tide. She feels the impulse to run her fingers through her hair—a nervous tic she had abolished long ago, but the impulse never completely disappeared. It shows up as a blip on the radar, just enough to get her attention, and disappears.
Her head turns again to the quiet crowd, people moving like reeds swaying in a soft wind. Every so often they part just enough for Lexa to catch a glance. Clarke is here. Finally. That vague smile—her listening smile—lighting up her whole face, then her head thrown back in a laugh. Lexa can’t help but smile herself. She loves when Clarke laughs.
She shakes her head, shooing the smile away, then looks back over the water. The sun is now just a dark pink halo over the city. A moment later, a gentle white light spills over the roof. Someone has plugged in the strings of tiny Christmas lights that hang in lines above them.
Which is when Clarke looks towards the edge of the roof, sees Lexa holding her red cup. Lexa takes a breath and holds it. She sees Clarke bite her lip and look down.
Don’t go over there. The voice in Lexa’s head is stern. She takes another sip and turns her head again to the lights of the city across the Bay. Don’t even look.
She feels a light touch on her shoulder. She already knows who it is and pauses to take a deep breath before she turns to face her.
“When did you get back?” Lexa’s voice is almost too even.
A shade of guilt crosses Clarke’s face. “A week ago.” She glances just past Lexa. “The jet lag was rough. It took awhile to adjust.”
Lexa forces a smile. “I’m sure it did.” She turns her head back towards the water, her eyes tracing the constellations of faraway buildings.
Clarke gives up. “Lexa, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re just doing your job.”
Clarke leans against the rail. “You said it was fine.”
“It is fine, Clarke.” Her voice does not sound fine.
Clarke sighs. She didn’t have to take the job. She could have stayed at her practice in Berkeley. But she had always been drawn to disaster, so when disaster needed a doctor, she answered the call. Lexa had said it was fine.
Clarke looks down at Lexa’s hand resting on the railing. She knows better than to reach for it. Not yet. “You could come with me.” Clarke knows this is always the wrong thing to say.
Lexa shakes her head and looks down at her now empty cup. “I need to be here.”
Clarke closes her eyes and nods. “I know.”
They stand side by side, the energy building between them like it always does. The gathering moves away from them. By instinct, the crowd gives them space.
They stand in the white glow of the lights. Side by side and silent.
Lexa lets out a deep breath. “I just miss you.” She speaks more to the bridges than to Clarke.
Clarke looks down at her hand again. Still too soon. “I miss you, too, Lexa.”
“But…”
“But what?”
“I know there’s a but.”
Clarke lets out a breath. “You know how important this is to me. They only took three researchers. In the entire world, Lexa.” She feels her words spilling out before she can catch them. “You should see the facilities. This place has never had something like—”
Lexa pulls a delicate flask out from inside her jacket and pours more High West into her cup. Clarke had fallen in love with the way her slightest movement could arrest an entire room. She does not love it now.
“You’re still angry.”
“I’m not angry, Clarke.” Lexa swirls the whiskey around. Her jaw clenches. “Not at you, at least.”
Clarke’s eyes narrow.
Lexa finally raises her head, her eyes following the line of street lights along Hearst. After a moment, she takes in another deep breath and turns towards Clarke. “I just know…” She pauses. “I just know I’ll wait no matter what.”
Clarke shivers, a confusing wash of relief and heartbreak flowing over her. Of course she’d known that Lexa would go on with her life, just as she’d known that Lexa would always be hers. “You don’t have to.”
“Fuck you, Clarke.” The words are so gentle that one might have mistaken them for I love you. But before Clarke even realizes what she said, Lexa’s lips are on hers. Clarke tastes the warm glow of rye and vanilla. She can by the way Lexa moves her tongue that she’s tipsy. Clarke smiles as she pulls back.
“Fuck you, too,” she says just as gently.
Lexa’s smile is sad and small, but it’s a smile. “When do you leave again?”
“A week.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”
“If you’d have moved in—”
“—I’d be living alone in your apartment.” Lexa tilts her head up, her green eyes sharp and hurt.
Clarke looks down. She hates breaking Lexa’s heart. Which is why she hadn’t called. “I’m sorry.”
Lexa sighs and turns her eyes back to the sea of lights and the blackness of the Bay. Clarke swallows, her eyes following Lexa’s glance westward. She can almost make out the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge.
The roof has gone quiet except the guitar that floats over and settles around them. A woman’s lithe voice dances around it.
If you dance I'll dance
And if you don't I'll dance anyway
Give peace a chance
Let the fear you have fall away
Clarke looks down at Lexa’s hand on the rail, and decides that, yes, now is the time. Lexa doesn’t seem to notice for a few moments when Clarke touches her—but then she turns, wraps her arms around her and pulls her in. She starts to sway with the chord changes, and Clarke follows, their feet tracking each other’s in almost imperceptible steps.
Say yes to heaven
Say yes to me
Clarke feels Lexa’s chest move up and down with every breath. She wants to beg her to leave with her, to show her the faces of the people who come to the clinic, to help her see. No. She shakes her head. Maybe someday our worlds will align. She pulls Lexa closer. But not today.
Lexa takes a deep breath, wishing she knew what to say. But there are no words. So she takes a deep breath, trying to memorize the feel of Clarke against her.
I’ve got my mind on you
They sway until the song goes quiet. Lexa rests her head on Clarke’s shoulder. “So we have a week then.”
---
If you have a song you'd like me to base a little one-shot on, drop me an ask! I promise you at least 1,000 words.
thank you for the tag @oliviassunrise taking the opportunity to share this lovely snippet from something that's (hopefully) coming in the next day or two
hi! just came from Rooftop Rendezvous and the only thoughts in my brain right now are incoherent screaming (pos). You are such a good writer! You capture atmosphere and characterizations really well, I can totally hear the characters’ voices when they speak, and especially in Joel’s inner monologue. Plus!! The cliffhanger at the end of chapter 2 ahhhhh! I was going to stop and sleep but after that I was like, well goddamn. There’s no way I can stop now!!
is there anything you really like about writing that fic, any details you hope people will notice? Or anything you enjoy about writing Ellie and Joel in general? Anyway, just thought I’d pop in and let you know how much I enjoyed it! Thanks for sharing. Cheers! <3
Hello! Thank you so much for stopping by with such a sweet message, I am so overjoyed to hear that you're enjoying Rooftop so far! Haha I am a fan of cliffhangers to be honest and knowing you couldn't put it down means I did a good job with that one so thank you 💜
One thing about rooftop that is both a joy and a struggle is that it all takes place on the same roof! So finding little ways to make each scene sort of not exactly the same or just talking (see Ellie playing gymnast, stargazing, bringing her bouncy ball, sitting on the parapet, etc) is an ever-present challenge. I was struggling a bit with the next chapter for this very reason but I think I've gotten past the sticking point and am quite pleased with how it's shaping up so far.
One of my favorite things is Joel noticing Ellie tracing her bite marks before he even knew that they were bite marks and for some reason noticing that she's barefoot every night, idk why but I love that detail.
I enjoy so much about writing these two, I love the beginning when Joel is especially mean but even at his meanest he's still gentle with his actions with her (apart from that whole, throwing her into a wall bit), I love the banter between them and how they end up close enough that they basically share a brain, I love Joel sliding back into the familiar Dad instincts that he thought were dead and gone, and I love Ellie being the one person he is the gentlest with and most violent for.
I could keep going, probably forever (see: stubborn love 😅) so I'll stop here just to say thank you again for this message, I'm glad you enjoyed Rooftop so far and I hope you enjoy the last two chapters (one of which might be up next week!) 💜💜💜
I'm living for both of your tlou fanfics. I'm so obnoxiously obsessed with the thought of Tommy joining in on the fun in Stubborn Love. The angst this is likely to add will be delicious but also I'm ready to cry. Thank you so much for sharing.
this makes me so ridiculously happy, anon, I'm so glad you're enjoying both of them. I've only been working on Rooftop for about a month but I love it so much, there's something very exciting about being back in the Cordy universe and all the fun things that opens up.
so happy you're looking forward to Tommy Shenanigans in Stubborn Love because I too have been looking forward to having Tommy enter the chat for quite awhile. The first scene of the next chapter is one of the earliest ones I thought of while developing this fic and I'm lowkey glad you're ready to cry because there is some delicious angst on deck.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
“So, you’re their lab rat,” he said.
“I’m not a rat,” she said indignantly.
The disheveled ponytail, dirt stained clothes, bare feet, and the way she presently occupied the ground were doing a lot to counter her statement. But he knew a kid missing context when he saw one.
“They’re using you to run experiments to test their theories. They used to do that shit to rats Before,” he said.
Her expression twitched with what was surely the question of why but she shook her head dismissively and instead said, “I’m the only immune person they’ve found. They need to study me.”
“So,” he said with repeated emphasis. “You’re their lab rat.”
~
(or the AU where Marlene wasn’t the one who found Ellie in the mall so naturally Joel runs into her on a roof one night and then keeps running into her)
Been working on my rooftop au which was originally supposed to be a small fun little thing but the plot bunny keeps growing and I fear I am just incapable of doing small fun things they always turn into bigger more elaborate things which are still fun they just take longer and I am juggling too many of them help
