The Bad-Ass Lesbian Couple of Your Dreams: Evey from V for Vendetta & Octavia from The 100

Why I Ship It

Without a doubt, I think that Evey and Octavia would make the most bad-ass power-couple. Think about it, both Evey from V for Vendetta and Octavia from The 100 are characters who have suffered from an oppressive government system; both lost their parents at a young age, both had to live underground (Octavia, literally beneath the floor, and Evey was sentenced to a life struggling to make ends meet). Both women were hardened by equally traumatic events; Evey was physically and mentally tortured by V, and Octavia lost almost everyone that she loved (also, she was tortured multiple times throughout the show as well).

No, seriously, I have thought long and hard about this one. Their compatibility extends beyond the parallels in their lives: Evey is loyal, loving, and requires a bit of passion and fire in her life. As her counterpart, V worked perfectly because he embodied the movement that Evey's life lacked. Of course, they never really get together because he dies, but Octavia's passion for righteousness and her fire poses a perfect alternative. Unlike V, Octavia is not a martyr, which immediately makes her a stronger contender to be Evey's partner, because, you know, she won't die. Octavia is bold and outspoken; she is fuelled by her rage against injustice and strives to protect all those that she loves. She'd be the Damon to Elena but less toxic. On the other hand, Evey would provide Octavia with the love and compassion that she needs. Her rage would not faze Evey; instead, it would inspire her to also take action. Meanwhile, Evey's kindness would remind Octavia that the world is not as unforgiving as it has been to her. Imagine how quickly they could take over the world. Evey could be her right-hand man, providing Octavia the emotional support to make hard decisions while also reminding her of the value of peace and kindness; alternatively, Octavia would teach Evey to be bolder and to stand up against what is wrong.

If it isn't clear, I've given this ship quite a bit of thought, and like any fan overflowing with feeling, I wrote two scenes. The first scene was inspired by V and Evey's first interaction; imagine this story being post-V, long after his death. The second scene... well, it's exactly what you's think would transpire between the two of them.

The Tip of Her Boot

The moment unfurls like the red-drenched lips of a tulip as it blooms. Evey falters, one step over the other, and then tries to catch herself against the wall. Her chin scrapes brick as she slips. The asphalt below catches her violently, splitting the skin of her knees as it does. She lolls her head over to the side, blinking through the shock, bracing for the next barrage of hands and feet to knock her unconscious, out of this misery that is her body—

A large shadow casts over her. Evey trails her eyes sluggishly over the squared teeth of two dark boots. She must have hit her head a little too hard because fear evades her; the boots look friendly somehow, protective. Maybe even a bit possessive. Evey shivers.

The right heel lifts up and Evey scrunches her eyes shut. Hot red blood trickles down her chin. Black dances around the edges of her vision. Blurry figures move around in a dizzying array of black and silver, reminding her of stars. But the pain never comes. Only a scream somewhere in the distance.

A sound close to crumpling sheets fills her ears. Hysterically, Evey finds herself thinking of V, of the sway of his cape— no, it's not possible. It can't be him. She forces her eyes open just in time to see a body collapse. She stares at the soft spill of red pooling under his cheek. Soft thuds echo in the distance behind him.

"Hey, I got you," a long, thin hand shoots towards her. Evey flinches. The boots twist impatiently, the right one tapping against the ground "Come on, we don't have much time."

Her voice is unexpectedly soft. Unlike her hands, which are rough and callused. They wrap around her upper arm and pull.

Long, dark tendrils of hair sweep over Evey's cheeks. She inhales deeply, into the curve of the stranger's collarbone, strangely reminded of springtime. The girl tightens her grip around Evey's waist and half-drags her forward.

"What were you thinking?" She mutters, huffing under Evey's weight.

Evey tries to move her lips but finds that she can't. Her voice scars the inside of her throat.

"Hmm?" The girl persists, unaware or uncaring of the state that Evey is in. She shakes her when Evey doesn't reply, "Hey! Wake up. Don't you dare die on me."

"V," Evey hears herself croak.

"V?" The girl's voice is skeptical, "As in the letter?"

Evey slowly tilts her head upwards, fighting against unconsciousness. Stars blink in and out of her vision. The girl glances at her and Evey is surprised to find how bare her face is.

"Hey," she shakes her again, this time a little more gently, "Hey, you know I'm going to kill them, right?"

She stares into those wide, icy eyes, taken aback by the matter-of-fact tone of her voice.

"I'm going to get them back for what they did to you," she continues, and something about the brutality in the way that she holds Evey makes Evey believe her.

Over The Edge

Lost hours spill over the edge of Octavia's cheek and into her eyes, casting long, dark shadows. Evey doesn't know where to look. She looks at Octavia's long fingers splayed over the door knob.

"It is not your fault," Evey says, her voice barely above a whisper. It flickers with the candleflame.

Something in Octavia's eyes change. Something in her expression falters. Octavia struggles to keep herself composed.

"Of course it is," she smiles bitterly.

"No," Evey shakes her head vehemently, "No, that's not true at all. Those guys deserved it. You're good, Octavia. You're... good."

She takes Octavia's hand. She places it against her heart.

"You're good," she repeats.

Octavia's thumb moves up to caress her fingers. Evey freezes.

The air sits still between them. Something close to anticipation knots itself in Evey's belly. A slight shudder runs through her. Octavia leans closer, her breathing slow and intentional. Dark tendrils of her hair form a thick wall between them. Evey tilts her head up so that their noses brush.

In the confines of the room, the air gets thicker. Evey's breaths shorten. Something like electricity forms between them. Evey couldn't speak if she tried.

The moment comes down like a storm.

Evey is still not sure who breaks the gap first. Only the feeling of bone as her hand presses against the center of Octavia's chest. The winding of Octavia's fingers through her hair. The pounding of their hearts battling as they move. The heat of her breath against her skin. The frantic current of their touch, pulling and then pushing away. Somewhere in the hurricane, Evey is reminded of Octavia's fragility; in the salt-soaked moan that escapes her lips; Evey catches it with her teeth.

From through the window, the moon watches the tides rise.