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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

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Nerd 15

Previously on Nerd

It hadn’t been a particularly good sleep. Lexa felt like she woke up every hour or so, each time checking to make sure the softly snoring girl beside her was still there, still asleep. Despite her own tossing and turning, Clarke didn’t seem to move much, just curled up tightly into herself, against Lexa’s side. Lexa kind of liked the feeling of the other body in her bed. She kind of liked that she was the person Clarke wanted.

Sometime after the tenth to twelfth time she woke up, Lexa realized the sun was up, and she couldn’t fight with her body waking any longer. Clarke didn’t move, and the night weighed on her girlfriend.

With a certain effort, Lexa decided to extract herself from the bed, even though Clarke didn’t seem to notice. It actually appeared as if Clarke was a very sound sleeper, as Lexa moved around the room and bumped the edge of her elbow on her desk and hissed at the contact. But as she stood still, she realized Clarke didn’t budge a bit.

Lexa scrolled through her phone as she tugged on some fresh clothes, checking over her shoulder quickly to make sure Clarke wasn’t peaking for some weird reason. She didn’t want Clarke to know how curious she was about the party before she arrived, but a part of her was incredibly interested in what might have panned out.

Like a thief, Lexa tugged on socks and buttoned her pants as she danced through the door in her attempt to remain as quiet as humanly possible. It took her a minute to close to door, watching it slowly inch toward the clasp, and finally it clicked nearly silent. She pushed her hair out of her face and slid into the bathroom, shoving a toothbrush into her mouth as she leaned against the counter and scrolled through the feed of Bellamy Blake’s infamous party.

As she scrubbed she watched the night happen in glimpses. She watched her girlfriend taking shots. She watched her girlfriend in that bikini. She watched her girlfriend look like she was desperately chasing an escape and numbness and it made Lexa mad for her. Lexa spit and rinsed and brushed and decided it was a good idea to scroll through Bellamy’s posts and she couldn’t understand how Clarke could like such different people. Bellamy Blake held week long parties and won state championships and got scouted. Lexa made movies and played board games and couldn’t figure out how to take a bra off.

With a final rinse she called her sister, hoping the time difference would mean she was awake, but as she bounded down the steps, she was met with a voicemail and furrowed. She needed research and information. Anya knew about all of this.

“You’re up early for someone having a sleepover with their girlfriend,” her mother greeted her as she looked up from the newspaper spread out across the kitchen island. Her father looked up over the edge of the sports section before looking back down.

“I told you we didn’t have to worry,” he muttered, flapping the paper out. Lexa rolled her eyes and took a seat.

“It wasn’t a sleepover.”

“Your girlfriend spent the night in your bed. I’d call it a sleepover, and I’d say we’re pretty cold parents for allowing it.”

“I appreciate it, but nothing was going to happen.”

“Good, because we discussed how alcohol can alter perception and consent--”

“Yes, yes,” Lexa sighed and reached for an apple as her father droned on yet again, hoping to avoid another sex talk. “I know, Dad.”

They all remained in a respective silence while working past the moment. It was weird, to want to talk to someone, let alone to have anything to talk about, but Lexa felt this need to figure something out, though she wasn’t sure what it would be. She wished her sister had just picked up the phone.

“So is Clarke…”

“Still asleep.”

“Did you have fun at the party?”

“I wasn’t there long,” Lexa shrugged. “I was at Luna’s working on our submission until late. Gus was there, so I knew people.”

She didn’t mention Michelle from math and her bikini. That felt inappropriate.

“How’s Clarke doing?” her mother pressed, sipping from her coffee again, warily watching her daughter.

“She’s… I don’t know. Sad. Mad. Stuck. Overwhelmed.”

“It was nice that you went to get her. I appreciate you telling us what’s going on instead of trying to sneak around. Anya did that. I can’t tell you how many times I had to pretend not to notice boys sneaking around the yard.”

“Really?”

“We trust you both,” her father explained. “We just appreciate you doing making us have to stretch it so far.”

“And we like Clarke, so we’re happy to help.”

“I don’t really know what else to do, you know?” she muttered, wiping her mouth and leaning against the counter, her knee coming up on the stool. “I think I’d be a little upset too if I were in her shoes, so I would want to probably do a bunch of stuff, but also I don’t want her to be upset.”

Lexa’s father looked at her and then to his wife. She cocked her head and gave him a look, to which he returned a shrug and ushered her to do something. They were stuck as well because no parenting book prepared them for teenagers. And Anya was very different.

“You can’t do anything,” he finally offered.

“Tim!” his wife warned.

“It’s true. You can’t make this better. It’s between Clarke and her mother and her father. But you can be there for her, and try to encourage her to be healthy about grief and pain. You have some experience, I’d say.”

Lexa looked back at him and clenched her lips, worrying the bottom one as she mulled over his words.

“And as much as we love what you want to do and be for Clarke, please don’t forget who you are in all of this. You have needs nad you have goals. Someone else’s wellness is not entirely on your shoulders.”

“I know.”

“But just be around. That’s all anyone can do. Be of service to others.”

“Your father’s right though,” her mother continued. “You can’t fix it, just be there. It’s a boring answer.”

“If Dad were dying would you have an affair?”

“Jesus, Lexa.”

“What?”

“I’d haunt you,” Tim decided before turning back to his paper. “I’d haunt you really hard.”

“I’m done with both of you today,” she decided, tossing her part of the paper in his lap as she walked through the living room. “It’s not even eight and I’m retreating to my office. I hope you’re both proud.”

The pair shared a smile and shrugged as she disappeared down the hall.

“You know, just because we gave you one sleepover, I hope you don’t get too comfortable asking. This was an emergency. It’s always okay in an emergency, and you know the difference.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I have golf in a bit, but this afternoon we could do some driving practice if you wanted?”

“Sounds good,” Lexa smiled.

For no reason at all, except maybe utter relief that she didn’t have to deal with the same problems Clarke did, she hugged her dad’s neck lazily over the back of the couch before making her way back upstairs.

XXXXXXXXXX

The vague memories of the night lingered like the stale taste of terrible vodka and beer, and Clarke smacked her lips, hoping to find any kind of liquid to get rid of the dry mouth. But her eyes felt heavy and glued shut, and her stomach felt like it was currently on the spin cycle, so moving wasn’t entirely feasible.

It had been dumb. It’d been stupid, even. Possibly as far as moronic, to go to Bellamy’s party, but it was the best alternative and boy did it feel nice to escape. Even the current state she found herself in was a welcomed punishment from feeling fine and being unable to exist in the world. Her current physical ailments felt like finally, the universe was manifesting itself, and she could fix the swirling stomach and cottonmouth. She could fix the spinning and soreness and bruises from God-knew what happened last night.

There wasn’t much else to be done, she suspected. Fix this moment, this hour, this day, and hope to survive to another one. It all had to end at some point.

Clarke finally managed to open her eyes, a feat she was certain no other human could have accomplished. She looked around Lexa’s room and gratefully accepted the water bottle and aspirin waiting beside the bed.

It took until halfway chugged, that she realized she was empty and the room was quiet. So she took a breath and held her stomach, certain she could hold it down. Carefully, she dressed, stealing Lexa’s old track sweats and an older soccer shirt, before making her way down the hall in search of something to fill her stomach.

“Someone else’s wellness is not entirely on your shoulders.”

“I know.”

Clarke paused at the top of the stairs when she heard the family talking. It felt like it was about her. She knew it had to be. It made her want to vomit.

“But just be around. That’s all anyone can do. Be of service to others.”

“Your father’s right though. You can’t fix it, just be there. It’s a boring answer.”

It was hard to be the subject of needing things. Clarke wasn’t someone who needed anyone. She wasn’t someone who wanted or needed to depend on anyone, and yet there was a girl, a girl who was too afraid to make a move, who imagined the world in terms of movie scenes and interpreted her own existence in the great world as a cosmic joke, always waiting for the punchline-- and this girl wanted to fix things.

“If Dad were dying would you have an affair?”

“Jesus, Lexa.”

“What?”

It hadn’t been a joke, but it made Clarke smile. No one expected that Lexa was serious, and she wanted to know the answer. There was shuffling and moving, and Clarke crept her way back to Lexa’s room.

She felt even dumber than she thought possible for going to see Bellamy. She wouldn’t do it again. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. The words echoed in her head. She meant it, she was certain. She wouldn’t.

“You’re awake,” Lexa grinned as she quietly closed the door behind her only to find her girlfriend sitting in her bed.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“Mhm, we’ll see.”

“Don’t be mean to me, I’m sick.”

“You’re hungover.”

“You don’t know what it feels like, do you?” Clarke accused, accepting the orange and another bottle of water that was handed to her as her girlfriend joined her in bed.

“Don’t see much appeal.”

“It always seems like a good idea at the time…”

Lexa just shrugged and crossed her legs. She ran her thumb along the faded script on the side of Clarke’s knee.

“I should head home,” she decided softly. “Sleep this off and such.”

“You could sleep here. I’m just going to work on the car a bit. Maybe go for a run. I have homework to finish.”

“I have to go home at some point.”

“Maybe.”

“It was very sweet of you to come get me.”

“I’m just glad you texted.”

“I’m not going to be like this, you know?”

“You can be however you want.”

It was a sweet sentiment that Clarke didn’t have the mental capacity to sit with, she decided, because she wasn’t ready to decide to be anything. But tomorrow, maybe, she’d think about it. She knew what she didn’t want to be, and that seemed like something, at least.

“I texted Raven to come get me.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I needed last night to cleanse myself, I think. I need today to regroup.”

“You have a very weird process,” Lexa decided.

Clarke just chuckled and leaned forward, burying her face in Lexa’s thigh and sighing.

XXXXXXXXXX

For the moment, the very tiny, very quick moment, everything felt like it was caught up, and Lexa allowed herself a few moments of quiet in the garage, because come hell or high water, she was going to finish the car by the last day of school. SATs were done, finally, and something that didn’t need to be explicitly worried about until scores were released in a few weeks. Her prom outfit was already purchased and prepared. Homework and studying were done. Sports were over for the season and conditioning wasn’t set to start for another two months, though she’d start her own soon enough. Her girlfriend was at work and then going off to a cheer competition for the weekend. Luna was putting the finishing touches on their film school application project. And anyone else that might ask Lexa to do anything was promptly ignored.

Two weeks before spring break, and Lexa was feeling high on her on efficiency.

All in all, Lexa decided that she had at least three days to power through as much as she could with her dad in a final push before sending it off to the paint appointment.

She hadn’t counted on her sister though, and as her phone blared, interrupting the music playing over the speakers, she smacked her head on the body of the car and slid herself from under it, grumbling the entire time.

“Don’t you have fancy plans. It’s a Friday night,” she chided the eldest.

“I’m getting ready, I was just thinking about you.”

“Gross.”

“Because I ran into a girl that asked about you and I had no idea you had a friend at CMU, let alone a drop dead gorgeous film student.”

Lexa furrowed and twirled her wrench around before trying to dive back in under the seat and finish installing the seatbelts in the back. It dawned on her then and she snorted.

“That’s just Costia.”

“Ohhh, just Costia-- who the fuck is Costia?”

“I met her when I came to visit last fall remember? You were the one telling me to make a move but I was very drunk, something you did to me as well?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“At the party. I posted a picture…” she grunted and twisted. “She found me on Instagram. We talk about movies and I’ve shown her some of my stuff and junk.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“Just not many freshman looking to hang out with high school juniors.”

“I’m clearly advanced.”

“Clearly,” Anya rolled her eyes over the phone.

“I’ve been talking to her about film programs and applying--”

“Here? You’re thinking about coming here?”

“Fuck!” she hissed and sat up, doing her best to suck on the cut that came to her thumb from her maneuvering. “I don’t know.”

It wasn’t a serious inquiry, Lexa thought to herself. She was set. She had a plan with Luna. They’d had it since they were ten, and there was really on reason to deviate from it. But then a stranger liked her stuff, and this stranger made stuff Lexa liked. And the stranger became a friend who gave her some screenwriting tips and pushed her to get better at it. And the stranger told her the east coast was just as important to film.

But it didn’t matter.

There was a plan.

“You should seriously consider it. It’s a great program I hear. Come out for spring break!”

“I should stay here.”

“And do what? Work on that car? Dad already told me he’s sending it out for interior and paint. You’re pretty much done anyway.”

“Mom and Dad have conferences that week. I was going to watch movies all week with Clarke.”

“Bring her too. Sounds like she needs an escape.” Anya was getting excited, and Lexa was tugged along for the ride. “You can crash in my dorm. Even just for a few days, not the whole week.”

“Mom won’t like me missing so much time to study.”

“Call it a college visit for a potential school.”

“Luna will lose her mind,” Lexa shook her head and pinched her thumb to try to stop it without a bandaid.

“Fuck Luna. I’m going to ask Mom if she’d rather you were here, supervised by me, or home alone for a whole week.”

From the change in volume, Lexa knew she was texting immediately. She sighed. It would be fun to see the school as a potential option. It might even be nice to catch up with Costia. It would even be better to see her sister, who just at the moment, she realized she’d missed since her last visit.

“Should I ask Clarke if she wants to go?” Lexa finally ventured, returning to her work.

“Definitely.”

“Should I really consider your school as an option?”

“You should.”

She had a plan, Lexa remembered, and there was no point deviating, but she did want to see her sister.

“If they say it’s okay.”

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robertsheehanownsmyass · 3 years

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Smoke Rings

Nathan Young x Lydia Bellamy This sexy little drabble is for @super-unpredictable98 and is about Nathan and her OC from her Hard Candy series. Lydia is Simon’s little sister who had purchased a time travel pass from Seth several years in the future so she could go be with Nathan and stop him from meeting Marnie. If you’re not into OCs, just use your imagination and pretend it’s you, lol. TW: Smut! Nathan being gross, as usual.

Nathan idly twirled his finger around the ring piercing Lydia’s nipple as they lay together in bed.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said.

“Wha?” Nathan replied with mock incredulity. “Whatever could you mean?”

Lydia slapped his arm and Nathan recoiled, giggling. “Don’t act like you don’t know how to manipulate me, Nathan Young.”

Nathan leaned forward to capture Lydia’s lips with a kiss. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it, Lydia Bellamy” he murmured against her lips, smiling.

--EARLIER--

“Does anyone need another round?” Simon asked as he stood to head to the bar.

“I’ll take one,” Alicia said.

“Yeah, two here,” Nathan said, referring to himself and Lydia’s empty bottles. He tossed Simon a balled up fiver, who barely caught it. Simon headed off to the bar with a roll of his eyes. Leaving Nathan and Lydia nuzzling in the booth.

“Gross, get a room will ye,” Nikki whined.

“Why would we do that?” Nathan countered. “People pay good money to watch this sort o’ stuff; this is a win-win situation.”

“Ugh stop,” Lydia said, but she couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m not shagging you in a pub in front of our friends and my brother!” She nudged him playfully.

“Simon could use some pointers I’m sure,” Nathan said, and Curtis and Lydia both wrinkled their noses in disgust. Kelly rolled her eyes.

“That’s sick,” Kelly spat. “You’re fuckin gross mate.”

“You love me,” he said, and blew Kelly a kiss.

A short while later Simon returned with two beers in each hand. He handed Alicia her bottle and reached over to hand Nathan the two he had requested for Lydia and himself.

“Thanks mate,” Nathan said while taking the beers. “We’re gonna finish up these and probably go shag. Did you want to come along and watch for pointers?”

This time the whole group cried out their disgust with Simon simply standing there, stunned into silence.

“Gross Nathan!” Lydia shouted, as Alicia yelled that he didn’t need any more pointers. Curtis and Nikki simply got up and left.

“Let’s go dance, Alicia,” Kelly said as she headed over to the dance floor, Alicia following behind.

“Oh come on, I’m only jokin,” Nathan said.

“Don’t listen to him Simon,” Lydia said.

“That’s right,” Nathan continued in a placating tone. “You don’t have to watch. That would just be weird, man.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Lydia said, turning to Nathan with a smirk. “I meant that YOU are not getting laid.”

With that she got up to join Alicia and Kelly on the dance floor.

Later, Lydia returned to a booth where Nathan sulked, flushed and happy from dancing. “I’m beat. Ready to head out?” she said a little breathlessly.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Nathan said sourly.

“What is it?” Lydia asked, grinning? “You don’t like it when your shit gets thrown back at you?”

“What are you on about?” Nathan shot back as they headed out of the bar together, making Lydia grin even more widely behind Nathan’s back.

“Oh nothing,” Lydia replied.

******** Back in the flat, Nathan slumped onto the couch, still sulking from earlier.

“Will you stop your pouting,” Lydia giggled as she climbed onto his lap. “It’s no fun.”

“Gotcha,” Nathan said with a grin, as he captured her lips with a kiss. Lydia returned it for a moment, before pulling away.

“Wait-- what do ye mean ‘gotcha’?” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“All I have to do is pout a little and you’re putty in my hands,” he said, and tried to kiss her again.

She slapped his chest playfully. “You prat! Am not!”

“Are too,” he said grinning, and kissed her again, a bit more insistently this time.

Lydia let herself melt into the kiss. Damn him, she thought dimly. He really does know how to push my buttons.

Nathan slid his hands up under Lydia’s shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her back as he kissed deeply. Her fingers tangled in his curls as they made out, before one of his hands moved down to unbutton her jeans.

She broke the kiss to stand and shimmy her jeans off, and kicked them aside. She climbed back onto Nathan’s lap, and laid her palm against his growing bulge.

“You’re going to break your zipper,” Lydia said with mock solemnity. “We need to do something about that.

“Yes,” Nathan replied, matching Lydia’s tone. “I think you’d better.”

Her fingers worked deftly to unbutton and unzip his jeans, and she slid one warm hand into his boxer briefs, palming his erection. “It’s a good thing I made it in time.”

The serious façade cracked, and Nathan snorted laughter while Lydia giggled. The moment of levity was brief, however, as their lips crashed back together, gathering intensity as Lydia stroked Nathan. Nathan’s breathing began to speed up, and he reached down to slide one hand under the waistband of Lydia’s knickers. Before he could do much else, however, Lydia stopped him by sliding off the couch and positioning herself in front of him on her knees.

Lydia took hold of Nathan’s stiff cock and licked up its length, swirling her tongue around its tip. Nathan gasped softly as Lydia licked around the head and back down again before taking him in her mouth, sucking and sliding down as far as she could. She alternately lapped and sucked his leaking dick for several moments until she stopped and stood before him, pushing her knickers down around her hips and nudging them aside. She climbed back onto his lap and positioned his cock at her entrance, then lowered herself on him, her sharp intake of breath mingling with Nathan’s own. She sheathed him fully, and began to undulate her hips in a serpentine motion, acclimating to his girth, and Nathan groaned as Lydia sighed. She rode him hard, sliding up and down, gaining speed as her slickness grew. He bucked up into her, increasing the sensation; hitting deep with every snap of his hips.

Lydia felt her orgasm approach, starting in her core and spreading; enveloping her with a blinding ball of sensation as it grew, and she began to shudder as the ecstasy overtook her. Just as it was beginning to subside, Nathan surprised her by wrapping his arms around her tightly and standing up. He made his way toward the bedroom without breaking their connection, and he tumbled down onto the bed on top of her, careful not to crush Lydia, who was laughing; her teal and purple hair splayed around her like flower petals. Nathan thrust into her, rutting and grinding like an animal, his grunts matching the primal turn this particular fuck had taken.

Lydia cried out loudly and raked her nails down Nathan’s back, pinkening his skin and making him thrust harder, until his movements began to grow erratic and he cried out her name as he emptied himself into her depths. After he stilled, he gathered Lydia’s face in his hands and kissed her sweetly before rolling off of her and grabbing a cigarette from the nightstand.

“And you said we weren’t gonna fuck,” Nathan said before pulling a deep drag from his cigarette.

“What can I say,” Lydia replied. “You know how to push all my buttons, Nathan Young.”

“You have such lovely buttons though,” he said with a grin.

@spaceclone-mom @joz-stankovich

#nathan young x lydia bellamy #nathan young smut #misfits fanfic #robert sheehan character fic #love stories event

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inmyownlaine · 3 years

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Cages: John Murphy x OC Fanfiction

GIF//

SPOILERS: If you have not finished the series proceed with caution!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1664

Chapter: Two

Summary: After falling asleep, Aerie wakes up to a foreign source of light. The sudden disturbance of peace causes underlying issues to come to the surface. Murphy steps in, making matters worse.

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Aerie didn’t remember falling asleep. Murphy was rolled up in a ball, turned away from her. She rubbed her eyes carefully, trying her best to keep the sand out. It was still dark, the sun nowhere in sight.

She loved mornings like these. The ones where it seemed like everything was asleep, even the earth itself. Where she could disconnect from reality and imagine herself in another universe. Aerie could encounter a million mornings like this and still feel the same exact way: completely at peace.

Aerie began to stretch out, her back craned with her chest pushing towards the stars. As she tilted her neck back, preparing to loosen the cramped muscles, a sudden flash of light exploded against the indigo sky. She straightened herself immediately, leaning forwards and scrambling to her knees.

She was no astronomer. She wouldn’t even consider herself knowledgeable about space. But she knew enough to reasonably conclude that this was no shooting star. It’s lasting glow remained in the sky as it slowly traveled to the ground, dipping and diving over the uneven terrain.

It was something foreign. Maybe even magic.

Eyes wide with horror and mouth clamped with fear, she nudged Murphy awake.. He groaned aloud and flopped on his back, sticking his arms straight up in the air. “What?” he grumbled, sounding eerily similar to a moody teenager.

Aerie didn’t even have to reply. Through closed eyelids, Murphy saw the incoming brightness. He threw his arm over his face, providing very little shade from the beam. “Aerie?” he yelled, almost as if he expected her to have any answers.

Of course, she didn’t. Rooted to her spot, she squinted in the light’s direction, curiosity taking over her better instincts. Though she had never seen anything like this, it felt familiar to her. As if she had experienced this herself.

“What are you doing?” Murphy’s arm latched onto her forearm, tugging with enough force to move her a couple inches in the sand. It was then she realized how dire the situation was, clambering to her feet and retreating with Murphy back to the huts.

The commotion caused the rest of the group to come outside. They were clearly feeling the same way as Aerie: frightened, yet curious. Just as things were feeling safe, another freak phenomenon had to ruin what they were building.

“What’s going on?” Raven questioned, ponytail swinging from side to side as she frantically tried to look at everyone at once.

“Run!” Clarke replied, ignoring Raven completely and entering survival mode.

They had only gotten to the edge of the sand when the light stopped above the sea foam. It levitated before slowly descending to the ground. Everyone stopped, clinging onto one another for support. If this was going to end in war, they were going to fight it together.

The beam started to dissipate, resembling that of a tamed firework. Sparkles of gold and yellow swirled in a cylindrical pattern before finally coming together to form a silhouette. They started disappearing at the top, moving downwards as a body took its place. First a mop of curly brown hair, then a dark pair of eyes, warm enough to thaw the heart of any villain, outsider, or wrongdoer.

Aerie watched in awe as a man with a white robe stood in front of them, seemingly calm and inquisitive. It was a look she didn’t get to see much. He was always worried about protecting his friends and being the perfect leader. It was nice, for a change, to see him in a state of tranquility. No matter how anyone felt about his newfound beliefs.

“Bellamy,” Octavia whispered, face contorting into disbelief and sadness. Echo took a step towards him, but stopped herself after the first one.

He gave a small smile, nodding in her direction. It had been a long time since any of them had seen Bellamy. Aerie could sense the tension radiating from Clarke. The last time she was with Bellamy, she tried to kill him. Aerie questioned why he would return to a group of people that was so hostile towards him.

“Why did you come back?” Echo asked.

“Now you can’t transcend,” Aerie added. She knew that he wanted it more than anything. She remembered the look in his eyes when she left him last. It was full of hope that had been drained from his body long ago. Aerie was one of few that decided not to take that away from him.

“You can’t,” he corrected, hands folded patiently in front of his stomach. “You were saved by grace. But I believed.”

“So, what? You’re going to come here and rub it in our face?” Clarke retorted, arms crossed across her chest.

Bellamy wasn’t fazed. Instead, he stared at her deeply with his dark brown eyes. Lips pursed together calmly, studying the nature of a person that had lost everything. He knew it wasn’t personal.

“Madi is fine.”

Clarke’s lower lip began to tremble as she fell backwards, grabbing onto Murphy’s shoulder. He placed his arm around her lower back, eyes wide with surprise. Carefully, Murphy lowered Clarke to the ground as tears fell from her eyes.

“In fact, I would say she’s thriving. No more war. No more fear. It’s the perfect place for her.”

Aerie knew Clarke disagreed. The perfect place for Madi, in Clarke’s eyes, was with her. Yetshe couldn’t afford to be selfish. Madi didn’t have a life on Earth. There were no children for her to socialize with. There was nothing to help her grow. She would be the only human her age in a world of terror.

“And I forgive you,” Bellamy spoke, nodding towards Clarke.

“I don’t need your forgiveness,” she spat, the corners of her mouth pulling down towards her chin. “If anything, you are the one that needs redemption. I lost everything because of you. Everything!”

The birds scattered from the trees as she wailed aloud. Everyone standing had a story to tell. No one’s life was easy. But Clarke’s seemed to trump them all.

Aerie lost her parents in seconds, along with most of Skaikru when the Ark fell from orbit. She still wasn’t over it, and never truly would be, but at least her father wasn’t floated. And at least her partner wasn’t murdered. And at least her mother’s body wasn’t stolen. And at least she was able to transcend. The atrocities continued on for Clarke Griffin.

“Whether you do or don’t, just know you have it.”

“Out of all the things I want to have,” Clarke scoffed, “your good graces are not on my list.”

With that, she pushed herself off the sand and headed towards the forest line. Bellamy’s fingertips pulled towards her, but the rest of him remained. Raven chased after Clarke, calling her name as they disappeared into the trees. Silence fell as the rest of the group shared awkward glances with one another.

“Why are you here?” Echo finally asked. The sockets of her eyes were flushed pink, holding back a flurry of emotions. She made it perfectly clear how upset she was with Bellamy the first week Skaikru spent together. She couldn’t believe how he could betray the people loved.

But beneath all that rage, she was mostly hurt. Hurt that he chose faith over her. That she wasn’t his main priority in a world where everything was uncertain. In a time where everyone needed each other to get through. She felt used.

“I have unfinished business,” he stated simply. Bellamy’s head dropped, but beneath hooded lids, his eyes fixated on Aerie. Octavia noticed this immediately, a cackle escaping her lips.

“Of course,” she jaunted, throwing her hands in the air. “You came for your savior. Not your sister. Not your girlfriend. Her.”

Aerie scoffed in response, insulted by the obvious venom Octavia was spitting. She had every right to feel upset, but not at Aerie’s expense.

A tear trickled down Echo’s cheek as she bit the inside of her cheek. Fearing loss of control, she spun around and ran to her hut. Bellamy’s mouth opened, a silent battle raging in his head. He wasn’t allowed to love. It made him weak. It clouded his judgement.

It didn’t matter. The door slammed behind her, shutting him out for the time being.

“Save it, big brother,” Octavia grumbled.

“Knock it off, Octavia,” Murphy spoke up. It caused Aerie to tense up. She forgot he was standing beside her. Come to think of it, she forgot there was a whole crowd of people watching the dramatic scene.

“What? My own brother comes back to earth and instead of wanting to see me, he wants Aerie.”

“Well if I were Bellamy I would probably avoid you, too,” Murphy countered. “Who was the one that supported Clarke’s decision?”

She charged at him, but Levitt wrapped his arms around her torso, pulling her back as she yelled profanities at Murphy. He wasn’t the least bit fazed. Instead, he stood in front of her, arms crossed defiantly across his chest. Octavia continued to kick around in an attempt to free herself.

“Are you done yet?” Murphy asked, unamused.

Octavia let out a blood-curdling scream. It was something she had gotten particularly good at after becoming Bloodreina. There were a lot of awful events that spawned from that moment in time, but she did learn how to let out a gruesome battle cry.

Indra stepped in between the two, signalling for Gaia to help Levitt take her away. She did so immediately, trying to comfort her in the process. “It doesn’t matter!” Octavia yelled. “Bellamy died a long time ago! He died!”

Bellamy’s face scrunched together, an expression of anguish easy to see. He didn’t let it linger, relaxing his muscles quickly before addressing Aerie. “Is there somewhere we can go? To talk?”

“Yeah,” Aerie answered, already leading the way. Bellamy trailed behind, leaving the others to gossip among themselves.

“You and I have a lot to discuss.”

#john murphy #writing #the100 #love #john murphy fanfic #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #john murphy imagine #john murphy x oc #john murphy fanfiction #john murphy fic

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margoshansons · 4 years

Text

Desperate Measures 15/?

MASTERLIST: (don’t ask about part ten)

Summary: Raven undergoes a terrible operation to save herself, and Finn recruits delinquents for a mission. Y/N is one of them.

warnings: surgical procedures, swearing, canon-typical stuff

notes: I’m finally back with a chapter and hopefully I’ll be able to update regularly again. Tbh, I feel like no one cares about this story anymore, so seeing it receive some new love has made my heart very very happy. Based on 2x02 “inclement weather”

***

Bellamy paced his cell, the wire digging into his wrists as he waited for another interrogation. Byrne, Sgt. Miller. It was only a matter of time before Kane decided to show up. It was only a matter of time before he had to face the man who had helped float his mother.

Today was that day apparently.

The door slid open. He had seemed taller on the Ark, more intimidating.

Down here he was just another adult who was playing with things they didn’t understand. Another adult who refused to believe them.

“How long are you gonna keep me locked up in here?” Bellamy sighed, his shoulders slumping.

Kane crossed his arms, “As long as it takes until I’m sure you’re not a threat to others.”

He resisted the urge to scoff. The only threat they faced was the grounders.

“Those are my people out there” Bellamy growled, his irritation starting to get the better of him, “I should be out there looking for them, not--”

“You shouldn’t be doing anything” Kane cut him off, tone stern, “Your time of being a leader is over.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw. His time of being a leader will never be over. As long as his people survived, he would do whatever it took to keep them that way.

The sound of metal dragging on metal caught him off guard, Kane sitting down on a lone crate, gesturing to another one he had brought over. Bellamy knew the drill.

Here came the interrogation.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about the grounders” Kane paused, inhaling, “and my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Bellamy asked, arching an eyebrow.

Kane creased his, “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Bellamy decided to play his game. “I know Y/N Franco survived a bullet wound to the leg and was one of the hundred who managed to make it back home. The rest of my friends are out there, probably dying and you’re sitting here acting like the real threat isn’t out there torturing our people!”

“That’s enough!” Kane barked, teeth grit in brewing anger, “If you aren’t going to help me, then I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”

As the new Chancellor stood up to walk away, Bellamy chuckled mirthlessly, remembering what Maria had said so many times before.

“She was right” Bellamy called out, “You’re not her father.”

He watched as the Chancellor buried his emotions in a fist, slowly turning around with an ease he had only seen Y/N wear before.

The two men eyed each other, never losing eye contact as Kane sat back down, hunching over to lean in closer to Bellamy. The interrogation continued.

***

Her leg throbbed, but she could walk. The bullet had been safely removed, and she was thankful Murphy was a lousy shot.

She was thankful Murphy had only hit the muscle.

Raven wasn’t as lucky.

Y/N stood beside Finn, watching anxiously as Abby discussed what needed to be done to save Raven.

“The bullet is still shifting” The doctor informed the mechanic, “I was hoping it would stabilize by now.”

“So take it out” She and Raven spoke at the same time.

Abby and Jackson shared a nervous look, unable to hide anything from anyone down here. No one was.

“Raven” Abby’s tone turned gentle. “The bullet is pressing against your spine, if we leave it in you’ll live but...you’ll never walk again.”

Y/N swallowed at the news. On the ark, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Zero G solved that. Down here? With grounders abundant and new threats popping up everywhere? Where they needed their legs to run? Raven needed to walk. Raven needed that surgery.

“Take it out” Raven pleaded, showing no sign of backing down from her decision. “In zero g I didn’t need my legs. Down here I do.”

Abby sighed before nodding slightly to Jackson. She felt Raven’s calloused hand snake itself into her own, eyes pleading with her.

“Will you stay?” The weakened girl asked, “please?” Y/N nodded, leaning down, her leg still hurting but she ignored it. Raven was going through much worse. She could deal with a little leg pain if it helped Raven.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She replied, brushing a hand over her friend’s hair. A weight knelt down beside her and she caught Finn staring intently at his ex, grasping her and Y/N’s hand in his own. “Neither am I” He spoke softly, his gaze never leaving Raven’s.

“We’re almost ready” Abby called, turning Raven on her stomach before lifting up the mechanic’s grey tank top, marking the infected area with a black marker. Y/N felt her breathing shift. Raven’s grip grew tighter around her and Finn’s hands, a silent plea.

The scalpel made its way to the marked area, ready to cut into her--

“Stop!” Raven cried, a tear streaking down her ashen face, fear flickering through her eyes. “I’m so scared” Her voice broke and Y/N broke along with it.

This was her best friend.

More than that. They were sisters. They grew up together. They were meant to change the world together. And now the strongest person she knew was breaking down before her eyes.

“Hey” Y/N whispered, drawing Raven’s attention away from the surgery, “Look at me and Finn.”

Understanding swirled in her dark brown eyes.

She squeezed their hands together.

She was ready.

Finn switched his gaze to Abby.

Y/N’s never left Raven’s.

“She’s ready” Finn announced.

The screams were deafening.

*** Bellamy’s blood became ice as screams rang through the small compound. What if it was Y/N? She had been scheduled for surgery. What if the screams were hers? What if she was suffering and there was nothing he could do about it?

“It’s not Sparky, if that’s what you’re worried about” Murphy deadpanned from across the room. Irritation flashed hotly through Bellamy’s body, the traitor’s voice not helping his anxious state. “She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”

He clenched his jaw at the statement, because against his better judgement, Bellamy knew Murphy was right. Y/N would refuse to scream during surgery, especially if it was just a bullet to the leg.

Before Bellamy could respond to the true statement, the doors slid open once again, revealing Kane and Byrne ready for another interrogation. Except this time the subject matter was one person.

The same person he had been thinking about minutes before.

“What the hell happened to my daughter?” Kane’s eyes were ablaze, searching back and forth between the two men, desperate for answers. Kane turned toward Bellamy, stalking forward, “You told me grounders don’t have guns.”

“They don’t” Bellamy spoke calmly, slightly unnerved with how desperate the Chancellor seemed. No one had ever seen him this vulnerable. Or this angry. “You wanna know what happened to your daughter?”

Kane clenched his jaw, the slightest nod answering the question.

“Ask him.” Bellamy gestured toward the opposite wall.

Toward John Murphy.

***

Y/N exhaled, wanting to cry tears of relief.

She had made it. Against all odds, Raven Reyes had survived.

“She’s a fighter” Abby pointed out later, wiping the scalpel and tweezers clean of the crimson liquid. “You all are.”

Y/N smiled shyly at the compliment, her thoughts drifting toward Bellamy. “Some of us more than others.” She murmured.

Abby froze, turning around to face the engineer. “You want to go see him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Y/N nodded.

“Please Abby” She pleaded, “If you knew what Murphy’s done, what he did to me, Raven and Bellamy, you wouldn’t have him locked up.”

The doctor sent a puzzled look before glancing between the two girls. Her mind began to weave the pieces together, an incredulous look on her face as Abby threw another glance at Y/N’s freshly stitched up leg.

“This way,” was all Abby said, pulling the engineer forward through the curtains of the med tent until she landed in front of a panel that looked out of place. “You can exit through there, your dad’s waiting out front, but this should be able to get you past him and Byrne.”

She threw her arms around the woman who had saved her and Raven’s life, grateful that she had someone in this camp on her side.

Her feet stepped out onto the grassy fields, sunlight streaming across her face, blinding her vision and heating up her face as she soaked up the yellow rays. Her boots crunched against the patches of dry grass underneath her as she managed to find the entrance to the newly dubbed Camp Jaha.

She avoided the awestruck gazes of her fellow Ark citizens, every one of them knowing exactly who she was. The poor orphan from Mecha station taken in by Marcus Kane. Before she was thrown in solitary with the rest of the delinquents to be sacrificed for their sick experiment.

Before she was sent down to die.

Alpha station was exactly the way she remembered it. Down to the last piece of scrap metal that had fallen from the sky. The metal walls confined her. Everything was too small.

She couldn’t believe she ever thought this was the biggest thing in the world.

The earth was a never ending maze, the same way she had viewed Alpha at one point, and now Alpha was nothing to her. A confining box meant to keep everyone in line.

She peeked down the corridor leading to the stockade, watching the guards, wondering if there was some way to cut the power so she could sneak in unseen.

An arm on her shoulder caused her to flinch.

She whipped around, senses on fire as she drew her fists, stopping when she met the shocked face of David Miller.

“Sgt. Miller?” She asked, disbelief crossing her features. The Chief of the guard relaxed, all the tension gone from his shoulders as he recognized the face in front of him.

“Y/N,” The chief breathed, “I’m so glad I found you. Did Nate follow you back at all?”

She froze at the question.

For the first time since being discovered at the dropship, she allowed her thoughts to turn toward those she failed. Miller, Monty, Jasper, Clarke.

All gone.

Taken.

By grounders or something else. But it didn’t change the fact. She hadn’t saved them. She had failed them all.

“I’m sorry” She swallowed, ignoring the guilt pressing against her chest, “I don’t know where he is.”

David’s face fell.

“I broke my promise” Y/N admitted, voice thick with emotion, “I promised you I’d take care of him, and I--I failed. I’m so sorry.”

He left with a broken smile and a pat on the back. His words ringing in her head long after he was gone.

“You did what you could.”

No she didn’t. She should’ve gone after them. She should’ve stopped hiding. She should’ve tried to fight off those who would try and harm her friends. And now she was paying the price. A hand grasped her bicep and pulled her backward, pressing her against the wall, a hand covering her mouth.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw who it was.

“Finn?” She spoke through his hand, the muffled sound muted by the flesh against her lips. The long haired delinquent shot several paranoid looks behind his shoulder before whispering his plan to Y/N.

“Your dad lied about the search team. Finding our people, going after the grounders, all of it. They’re not going after our people Y/N,” Finn informed her, his eyes bugging out of his head, “So we’re taking matters into our own hands. Monroe and Sterling are on watch, you and I are going to sneak in and free Bellamy. What do you say?”

He gently lifted his hand free from her mouth to let her give her answer.

It was a reckless plan. And there’s no telling whether the grounders even had their friends in the first place unless they managed to build smoke bombs. But it was better than anything she had come up with.

It was better than staying here and failing again.

“I’m in.”

Sneaking in was marginally easier than she expected. Especially with Marcus putting several guards in front of the door because he didn’t like how close Bellamy had gotten with her. Thank whatever higher power above for secret passages.

They had kept her safe from Marcus’ disappointment on the Ark and now they’re going to help her save her friends.

“Get up” Finn instructed, Y/N using the pliers to cut the zip ties around Bellamy’s wrists, “We’re going to save our friends.”

Bellamy’s skeptical look disappeared as he rubbed his raw wrists. Anger stirred in her chest at the sight of the red lines, but she shoved it aside. She would deal with her father later. Right now her friends were in trouble.

“About time,” Bellamy smirked, turning toward Y/N, “Your idea?” She shook her head, “Finn’s, and we gotta hurry. Now.”

Bellamy grasped the pliers from her hands and moved toward the opposite wall, her anger spilling out of her as Finn finished her thoughts for her, “What the hell are you doing?”

He had cut Murphy free.

“He’s the only one who’s been to their camp.” Bellamy explained as if Murphy’s presence being needed was the most obvious solution in the world.

Y/N rolled her eyes, moving forward to meet Murphy, “You shoot me again, and I promise I will kill you.”

His response was cut off by the appearance of Monroe, “Hey, Sterling just signalled, someone’s coming.”

The four of them ducked out, closing the panel behind them as Alpha station dropped them back by the medical tent.

“You’re late” Abby scolded, David by her side as their flashlights lit up the area surrounding the gate.

“Bellamy decided to bring company” Finn retorted.

Bellamy sighed, pulling Murphy’s bonds tighter, “He’s the only one that’s been to their camp.”

The two adults nodded before handing off the firearms to the delinquents, David entrusting his own pistol to Y/N, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Find my son, his name is Nathan Miller.”

She didn’t need to know that.

She knew exactly who to look for.

She knew exactly who she had failed.

***

DM Taglist (closed): @chloe-skywalker @im-a-writer-right @clarkewithameme @shatteredlovesick @your-typical-giggle @rhyxn @amongthewildthingss @furiouspockettoad @niammain @cxddlyash @lena-davina @kaylinfayezink @gingerxarmy @super-marvel-dale @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo @nerdbookish @valeskasecco @strangerliaa @simsvetements @molethemollie @thebookisbtr @im-a-stranger-thing @jordangdelacruz @oopsiedoopsie23 @multifandombookstore @okj232 @asian-male-enthusiast @minigranger @jooheonbee @libraryoffandomsuniverse @pancakefancake @weird-pale-blonde-person

#the 100 imagines #the 100 imagine #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake x kane!reader #bellamy blake x franco!reader #bellamy blake imagines #bellamy blake x nightblood!reader #fic: desperate measures #series: desperate measures #the 100 fic #the 100 fanfic #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake fanfic #bellamy blake fanfiction #otp: you have me #my fics

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butmakeitgayblog · 4 years

Note

Clexa engagement please!! I’m also very excited to see Lexa be a bitch to Bellamy, but that one shot of Clexa going to Abbys and talking about how much they want to marry one another is definitely one of my faves. I’m excited to see how the proposal will go 💛

Ok, here's for you sweet anon. Bear in mind it's still rough and unedited but here ya go. A sneak peek of CoA Clexa engagement

///////////

"No!"

Lexa startled at the yelp, hand hovering over the bag she had been reaching for.

"... What?"

Her friend shifted in her seat under Lexa's wide eyed gaze, shrugging lightly as she glanced down at her phone.

Again.

"Nothin'. Just, ya know. Stay for a little longer."

"I'm tired, Cos," she breathed, wrapping her fingers around the bag at her feet and lifting. "I had an 8 o'clock class and work all afternoon. Besides, Clarke said she was going to have to stay late and I want to have dinner done when she gets home."

Strained brown eyes swung back down to the phone for a second, lips twisting in thought before she looked back up. "Just… ten more minutes?"

"Costia?" Lexa smiled, hitching her bag securely over her shoulder and standing. "I'm going home. You can awkwardly flirt with Luna over refills all by yourself."

"No, that's not- dammit, hang on," Lexa heard as she passed, patting Costia's shoulder on her way to the coffee shop door.

"Night, Lu," she called to her coworker and stepped outside, stumbling slightly as a body collided with her back. "Jesus, Cos, what the hell?"

"Sorry," her friend mumbled after they righted themselves, fingers flying over the keyboard as she shook her head in apology. "Didn't see you."

"Yeah, I got that. You've had your nose in your phone all night."

Costia's head whipped up at that, eyebrows lifted on her forehead as she stared blankly for a moment.

"... No I haven't."

Lexa snorted at that, giving a patronizing smile and nod of agreement as she slowly started walking backwards. "Suuure… I mean I don't mind, except you were the one who asked me to hang out."

"Oh my god, will stop just walking off. Seriously, who raised you?"

"Wolves," Lexa grinned as Costia caught up, turning to walk correctly once she had pulled even.

"Lexa, babe, stop trying to be funny. You're not funny."

"Shut up," she laughed, lightly shoving her friend as they walked. "Why are you even following me? And I mean that as politely as possible," she hurried to finish at the frown being thrown at her.

"Is it a crime to make sure my friend gets home safe?"

"No, but this would literally be the first time you've ever actually done that."

"It's a nice night," Costia shrugged. "Speaking of which, slow down."

"I told you I want to get home-"

"I know, but just, like, slow down."

"Why are you being so weird?" Lexa frowned as they rounded the block of her apartment, gently shrugging off the hand that kept pulling on the back of her shirt.

"I'm not, I just… Just walk slower. Jeez."

"We're like ten feet from my apartment, why are you- what is happen-"

"Oh, you know what?" Costia interrupted, Lexa halting in place at the sharp tug to her arm as Costia hurriedly unlocked her phone.

Holding a finger up, she clicked a few times on the screen and smiled before stuffing it back in her pocket.

"Actually? I just realized I have somewhere to be."

"... What the fu-"

"Yeah, it's crazy. Have a good night, boo."

With that she wrapped Lexa in a quick one armed hug before spinning on her heel and started walking away.

Lexa stood staring at the retreating figure, mouth slack and eyes wide with confusion. "... What the hell was that?" she called out, finally finding her voice when the woman was a half a block away.

"You said you wanted to go home," Costia hollered back with a flick of her hand, not even bothering to turn around. "Night, Lex."

With an unseen half-hearted wave back to the lifted arm of her friend, Lexa silently took in the blasé farewell as she turned to walk the final steps to her building.

Mindlessly punching in the code and settling into the elevator, Lexa played over how fucking bizarre her friend had behaved.

Because while, yes, it seemed that just about everyone one in their friend group was a bit… eccentric in their own ways, whatever that was impressively befuddling. But as the doors slid open on the floor to their apartment, Lexa's stomach still rolling a bit as it always did on the final lurch of the elevator (stupid human equilibrium), she decided to chalk the odd behavior up to the woman's residual nerves.

It was kind of sweet, actually. How Costia had tried so nonchalantly to ask about Luna. Though Lexa thanked God everyday for being spared from the horrifying prospect of ever having to wander the earth searching for her potential love, she really had enjoyed teasing the hell out of her friend over it.

And with the amount of heckles her and Clarke had had to endure over the past four years, honestly she felt the reversal of power was long overdue.

Mind deep in thoughts of watching her friend trying and failing to effectively shoot her shot with the laid-back barista that had a propensity for getting under her girlfriend's skin, Lexa turned the key in the lock and shuffled into the apartment…

Only to hear music softly playing down the hall.

"Clarke?" she called as her brow furrowed, not getting a response while she toed off her shoes and hung her bag on the hook. Raising her voice a bit, Lexa started walking further into the apartment. "I thought you said you had to work…late..."

Her words died on her tongue as she took in the room around her.

Every surface was littered in candles made up of every shape and size. Flames swayed in flickering dances, splashing the walls of their living room with the soft golden pearl of artificial dusk. The air smelled of primrose and fresh rain, the usual musky-woody scent of their apartment now a pleasant undertone. But still there.

Still them.

Lexa's eyes wandered the room, blinking in the shimmering glow as her feet slowly dragged over the floor of their living room, the residual warmth of the numerous candles wrapping her skin in comforting heat.

It was a bit overwhelming standing in the middle of the display, mind sluggishly tumbling over itself trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Welcome home, baby."

Lexa wheeled around at the quiet words, feeling the air catch and swell in her throat at the sight before her.

The black and white tile of their kitchen glowed in the spill of soft fiery orange, equally as adorned with a smattering of candlelight as the living room. It was dim, yet brilliantly lit in an aura of swirling warmth. And stood bathed in a wash of its heavenly glow, was Clarke.

Grey eyes slid from the luminescent crown of golden hair, the locks looking more bronzed and supple in the wavering light, to the relaxed set of her lips, tilted with the ghost of a secret smile.

And then she let her eyes slide down further, heart roaring in her ears at the sight of-

"My coat."

The dark black material hung heavy over Clarke's shoulders, the sleeves a touch too long and the length cutting more toward her ankles than mid calf. It would have been a sweetly hilarious sort of picture if seeing it after so long didn't have the breath rushing from Lexa's lungs.

She'd thought it was gone.

Whether taken back to its maker or possibly, and Lexa had felt so sick at the thought she'd never gathered the courage to ask, thrown away during Clarke's few heartbroken days. But… there it was. Looking exactly as she remembered it, though the effect of its weight feeling so different wrapped yet again around the woman she loved.

"I uh, yeah," Clarke smiled, bringing a hand up to fiddle with the collar before smoothing down and over her chest with a soft sigh. "Surprise."

Lexa swallowed a thick lump in her throat before forcing out words with an air of confusion. "I didn't… I thought it was gone. I- I haven't seen that since…"

"Since you visited me that night?" Clarke supplied, nodding with a wry smile at the memory. "Yeah. I mean, I was pretty sure you were there that night. On some level, I knew… but I still just wanted to be completely enveloped in you… I remember arguing with myself about needing it to fall asleep."

"But you never-- Where was it?"

"I'd hid it from myself the next morning," Clarke said, shaking her head as she spoke. "Or maybe from you. I don't know. My head was such a fucking mess… I'd convinced myself I needed to let you go and move on, but... The idea of getting rid of it or- or you taking it back just made me so--... I couldn't handle it. So I stuck it in a garment bag and buried it in the back of my closet."

Despite the very serious air between them, the weight of emotion vibrating through her system, Lexa really couldn't help the grin that slid across her lips.

"Ya dirty little thief."

/////////////////////

#CoA feels #CoA #anon #clexa #don't get mad at me I'm saving the actual nitty gritty of the engagement for the fic 🥺#but the feels are there #hopefully

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thelittlefanpire · 3 years

Text

my favorite lines in my 2020 fics

The Twelfth Night

The gray ash flickers in the green light at her thoughts, like it is rekindling back into the flames of the fire that shed it. Sparks run up and down her limbs, over her chest, and through her hair. The soot burns white-hot, but it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t even touch her skin. It transforms into soft lace, hugging her curves and welding over her body like a glove. A skirt tumbles down to her ankles made of lace and silk, and the muddy sneakers she had on are changed into slippers as the moisture collects and turns from muddy water to clear glass.

and then the earth spun

Lincoln grew silent and they watched as the sun went down. The tangerine light reflected off the water making it look purple, like a bruise or a stain circling the crescent city. Octavia held her breath as the sun inched closer to the horizon. She was still afraid of the darkness that was moments away from engulfing the earth’s surface.

The Storyteller

But Wanheda was a living legend—she didn’t need myths of old or fairy tale stories to lull her into arrest. Her world was so different from any Bellamy had ever come across. He had memorized all the books he could find on the Ark, he had written sonnets across his heart, and tucked lore into the seams of his very being.

in the heat of two suns

It’s not a memory of Bellamy’s, and the first time he turned the glass knob and stepped curiously through the doorway, he was shockingly met with a slow-swirling strand of a DNA double helix in the middle of an empty room the size of the Roman Coliseum.

He touched it. Of course, he fucking did.

And then he plucked a small blue sphere out of the left ladder and was sucked so hard into a memory that it made his head spin. Figuratively, as it were.

if we met at morning (in the dropship)

Her fingers walk the last few inches under the blanket and then she feels him. Every inch of him. Soft and delicate. She glances back up at his sleeping face before grabbing hold of him. Her center aches a little harder at the weight in her hand.

in peace, in love, in the final journey

“You’ll wait for her with me?” Wells asked him.

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, turning to look at the young man who stood beside him in the field of gold and then back down at the ground beyond to the broken half of his soul. “I think I will. She’ll need forgiveness and I can give her that.”

Holiday Trope Exchange Fic (coming soon! but I wanted to get this list out!)

She was like a bird in the sky that had finally been uncaged, but she was lost with no direction after the death of her brother.

#my favorite lines #2020 #thelittlefanpirefics #tlffavoritelines

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peggysousfan · 4 years

Text

Anomaly Misfire

This is the fic add on to the edit I had posted previously to do with Bellarke. The Anomaly sends Bellamy back in time to Earth after Primfaya, what will happen when he sees Clarke? This is based on a gif set I saw on Tumblr lol its amazing and looks so real, I wish it were.

"It's been 58 days. By now, Monty should have the algae farm producing." Clarke speaks through a makeshift radio while eating a few berries she found in the valley. Compared to algae, berries were better. "How bad does it suck? No offense Monty." She stops speaking but only hears static. She never gets a reply to her calls. "And I found berries, a whole field of them! They're not very sweet, but they're beautiful. I think that's what they used to make the paint for-"

As Clarke speaks through the radio and turns her head aside to look at the paint on a house, an illuminating green swirl appears seemingly out of no where. A small crackle of lights move through before the green mist vanished, leaving behind something- or rather someone. She stands up from her chair and cautiously steps closer to the man left behind by the mysterious green swirl.

"Clarke?" He whispers with his hands out stretched, unsure how to proceed. Her hair is longer than it was at Sanctum, and from the looks of his surroundings he's back at Shadow Valley.

"Be-Bellamy?!" Her voice cracks a bit as she looks around unsure if she's hallucinating from the radiation and dehydration. She did just discover the valley not too long ago after all.

"Wher-uh... I'm back on Earth? How..." He looks around and walks but before he's aware, a pair of arms wrap around his torso, blonde hair now fills under his chin. He chuckles and embraces her back, but what he doesn't expect is her to panic and start dragging him to the rover. "Clarke? What are you-"

"We have to get you to Becca's lab before the radiation sets in and kills you! Bellamy..." She turns around to face him, worry etched in her face. "It hasn't been five years. Its not safe for you to be here."

He chuckles lightly and halts to a stop, confusing Clarke. She pulls him more but he continues to laugh.

"Bellamy!?"

He takes her hand in his and walks back to the table where she was sitting before he had appeared. He then notices the radio and sighs. Madi was right, she did call to him while he was in space. At this thought he looks around.

"Where's Madi?" Now Clarke is even more confused.

"Who's Madi?"

"Your daughter..."

His words barely process through her mind as they stand near each other. But as Bellamy sees the perplexed expression over Clarke's face, he realizes they haven't met yet. That is, if he's thinking correctly about where and when he is in time.

"Bell I don't have a-" But before she can finish her sentence, she stops and looks to her left. A child stands from a distance and watched them. "Oh my God..."

The little girl runs off and before Bellamy knows it, Clarke runs after her. "Clarke!" But its no use, she can't hear him.

With a huffed breath he runs after her. He catches up to her within moments, trees and branches hanging in his face as he tries to smack them away. Its been a long time since he's been on earth, when things actually made since then. Clarke shouts in Trigedasleng to grab the girls attention, but she keeps going further into the woods. Bellamy stops running when he sees Clarke stop, she's looking at a child with crazed hair from afar. That has to be Madi. He thinks. But in the blink of an eye she runs off again. Clarke doesn't hesitate to run after her and so Bellamy follows them with a roll of his eyes. How can a small child run this fast? Clarke is still ahead of him but her voice echoes through the trees.

"Wait! Are you alone? Are there others?" She stops running to look at her surrounds and stops when she sees the little girl staring at her on the trail. Clarke speaks in trig once more.She says, "You're a nightblood, right?"

Clarke steps forward cautiously, trying to talk down to the girl, but she doesn't move. Instead Clarke does and eventually steps into a bear trap. She screams out in pain from the metal piercing the skin of her leg. Bellamy hears and runs faster. The little girl attacks Clarke in the mean time, attempting to stab her with a knife. She avoid most of the blows but her arm is cut, leaving black to trickle down her arm.

"Clarke!" The valley girl looks up at Bellamy and runs in the opposite direction, but seeing as Clarke is screeching in agony, his main focus on her. Bellamy bends down and helps her out of the bear trap, then carries her back to the village, but not without fight. He sets her down after a while and she limps into one of the houses.

She grabs her bag on the way to sitting down on a table, ripping her pants leg as she does so. Bellamy tries to help but isn't sure what to do. "Its okay, Bellamy. I-I got it." Her words come out in a stutter as she hurriedly grabs a thread and needle. At first she hesitates, but proceeds to stitch up the gashes on her leg. The only thing Bellamy can do is sit and listen to her agonizing sounds. After she's done, she passes out from the pain, but not before Bellamy rushes to her side and catches her head.

Clarke stays unconscious for several hours, so long he starts to worry about her. He periodically checks the wound and takes the liberty of cleaning it up as much, and as gently, as he can. But after several more minutes of waiting, and dozing off himself, Clarke wakes and startles at the pain in her leg.

"Hey hey hey! Easy... don't hurt yourself." Clarke jumps slightly before remembering Bellamy's presence. It takes a few moments before she realizes he isn't burning from radiation.

"You're... you're okay?" Her arm reaches out to him, inspecting the skin on his neck, hands, and face.

"Me? Of course I'm fine. You're the one that stepped into a bear trap."

Clarke thinks for a moment as the memories flood back into her mind, but right now the tap isn't her main concern. "No, that's not- Bellamy... how are you still alive? The radiation levels aren't safe. And how did you even get back?"

"Uhh... well I can answer one question." He shrugs and smiles, though she's still unhappy with his answer. The glare from her face tells him that very thought, though it is also contorted in pain. "Abby injected us with nightblood before returning to Sanctum." But as he says this his eyes widen and he flinches. "Sorry I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

"For what? And when did my mom make you a nightblood? You went off to space because the blood wasn't tested. I was the only one who took the syringe and injected myself." It was then he realized that Abby was still alive in the bunker. Clarke hadn't lost her yet. He feels like he should warn her, tell her whats coming, but then again who knows what will happen if he does. "And why are you looking at me like that? You still haven't answered my question of how you got here." Bellamy freezes and looks away from her.

"Look, Clarke, I don't know how I got here. One minute I'm in the Gabriel's tent holding Octavia after she's stabbed, then I'm taken by invisible people through the anomaly. I fought them off and I ended up falling and then landing here."

For several moments she sits quietly trying to process everything Bellamy has just said, and yet none of it makes sense to her. "What!?!? You were just in space with Monty, Raven, and the others. Octavia is still in the bunker and I have no idea who Gabriel is or what the 'Anomaly' is either. And what is Sanctum?"

"Uhh... shit."

"Bellamy?" She presses for more answers but he doesn't budge.

"It's complicated, okay?"

"Complicated." She echoes his words before trying to stand up. He asks what she's doing but shrugs it off. "You wouldn't understand. It's too complicated." She bites back, causing him to startle.

"Clarke come on. Its not easy to explain."

"Really? Then what is?" She turns to look at him over her shoulder and he freezes in place unsure what she means. Clarke scoffs at his confused look and sits facing him. "Bellamy we were born in space, sent to earth with no knowledge if it was inhabitable, then set up camp and fought a war with savages for land. Then Mount weather happened, I was on the run from literally very clan that existed only to be stuck in a worse situation fighting an AI and having to become a nightblood and fight off a whole city of innocent people. Then after almost dying I find out the world was once again going to burn down into nothing, which left us having to choose and send hundreds of our own people to their deaths! Which left me one of the only people left on Earth above ground. But no, I wouldn't know complicated."

Bellamy inhales a deep breath and sighs, knowing everything she said is true. But what happens next is even worse than what they've faced before. Everything on earth were trial runs building up to Sanctum and the war raging on there.

"You really wanna know?" She gives him to look and he chuckles. Of course she wants to know. "Well, believe it or not I'm from the future."

"Future? Seriously?" He laughs at this and sits back in the chair he occupied before she woke up.

"Yeah. Seriously." Clarke looks at him through the moonlight and does realize he seems different, but she couldn't' think of how much time had changed since then. "Earth becomes uninhabitable within a matter of weeks after 6 years pass by. Once that happens we leave. Travel in our sleep to another planet where...things are the same as Earth. Trouble every where we go. We tried to be peaceful, civil even, but-" As Bellamy stops talking his voice cracks. The memory of figuring out Josephine taking over Clarke's body still haunts him.

"But what?" Her voice is soft and light, curious at why he stopped talking.

"They tried to kill you. I thought you were dead, Clarke." At this Clarke sits up straighter, trying to ignore searing pain in her lag as she does so. "To me and everyone else, you died and there was nothing we could do. There was nothing I could do! Peace was the goal and even though we tried to not.. to- dammit!"

"Bellamy..." She reaches out to him as he jumps from his chair and combs his hand through his hair. His mind fills back with the emotion, the dread, of thinking he had lost her forever.Clarke reaches out and touches his arm, grounding him back to reality.

"I tried, Clarke. I tried to keep the peace but... it didn't work out." he explains everything he could. From the mind drives, to nightblood and its connection, to Russel, Josephine, the Primes, and Sanctum. As well as the rebellion and the strange Anomaly that had taken Octavia back. Bellamy told her everything. As he does so, she sits back and groans from the pain. He reaches out to her but she says she's fine. "Clarke?"

"I-I don't know what to say to that, Bellamy. But now I understand why you apologized for mentioning my mom." He sighs and reaches out to her again, this time she accepts and holds his hand. "So all of this happens and what? We can't change anything can we?"

"I don't think we can."

Silence falls between them as the whirlwind of information is absorbed between them. For the rest of the night nothing else is said, they simply stay, hands together, and content on this moment.

For Clarke it has only been 58 days, but for Bellamy it has been over 70 years with a moment of content silence between them. A lingering, unsaid, feeling moving through the air. In his time living in space, Bellamy never thought he would end up with Echo, and yet he did. His mind says he cares for her, but his heart yearns for another, and still their relationship lingered on. But forces beyond his control tell him that its up to him to take fate in his own hands and be with the one he truly cared for- the one he truly loved- and to do that was to atone for their past mistakes, if only to create a path for their future.

#bellamy x clarke #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #anomaly #the 100 #fanfiction #the 100 fic #au #au fic #what if

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shinsanomechanic · 1 year

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Isla follows Shin silently to his rooms, hand holding tight to his. The tense set of his shoulders makes her heart twist painfully and when she’s tugged through his door she pulls him into her arms. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, standing on her tip toes she’s pressed impossibly close to him.

Her fingers smooth down the nape of his neck and she feels some of the tension drain from his body. “Baby she’s okay. I promise she’s okay.”

This whole evening had been a whirlwind for the Sano home. She can only imagine the pain and anger swirling in his veins. The helplessness. She takes a deep breath to center herself so she can provide him with the comfort he so desperately needs.

She pulls back to cup his jaw, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “Talk to me.”

Shin wrapped his arms tightly around Isla, leaning down to bury his face in her hair. He had been on edge since Jake had called from the car, since he’d heard gunshots in the background and knew they were aiming for his sister. He had been so scared that he lost her, not breathing until she walked through the front door. But then she’d pushed him away and he saw how much this affected his little sister, how broken she was, and he hated himself for not protecting her. His arms tightened around Isla.

He pulled back to answer her question, looking down at her. He was used to being the rock for everyone else and here Isla was, offering him comfort. He loved her already but his heart swelled as he looked down at the woman in his arms. “I love you.” He kissed the top of Isla’s head. “Before anything else, just know I love you so damn much Isla Serene. And right now I just want to hold you in my arms.”

He picked her up by her thighs, her legs wrapping around his waist automatically, before carrying her to his bed across the room. He laid Isla down in the middle of his bed and crawled on top of her, resting his head atop her chest and wrapping his arms tight around her middle. He snuggled his face against her, immediately feeling more at ease. Isla’s arms wrapped around his neck, fingers intertwining in his hair and massaging his scalp.

They lay like that for a while, Isla holding Shin as he lay there in silence, processing through his emotions and letting him be vulnerable. After a while, his heart had stopped racing and he was calm enough to look up at Isla from his place on her chest, and smile softly, ready to talk.

“This is the second time Isla. The first was about four months ago. Apparently she and Mikey had heard rumors that there was a hit on them, but neither of them gave it much thought. But then one night, three guys came out of nowhere and tried to kill her. That was the first one.” His eyes burned with anger and Isla could see the fear behind the look too. “She walked through the front door that night covered in blood and it was one of the scariest moments of my life. I thought it was her blood at first.” His arms tightened around Isla and he kissed her chest under him.

“I try to stay out of Mikey and Bellamy’s business. I’ve always known a bit, but I typically stay out of it. The last four months I’ve been a little more involved, needed to with their lives at risk. It’s not something I enjoy though, I need you to know that. I left that part of myself behind in my twenties. But this is my family, my brother and my sister, and it’s getting harder for me to stay out of things. I can’t protect them if I’m not involved. Bellamy almost died again tonight. Jake called and I could hear the gunshots Isla and I honestly thought my baby sister was dead.” Shin’s voice cracked, tears in his eyes as Isla pulled him closer, crushing her head in her arms. They stayed like that for a few moments until she loosened her hold, tears in her own eyes. She cupped his cheeks and guided him up for a kiss. It was tender, full of love, and it healed some piece of Shin that had fractured off earlier tonight.

When he pulled away, he moved a hand to cup Isla’s cheek. “I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore Isla. You’re important to me, I fucking love you like I’ve never loved anyone before, and I want you in my life. But that means making sure you know the life you’re walking into. I’d never put you, or Lena, in any danger willingly, I swear that to you. Knowing all this though, whether you want to be in my life, it’s your decision.” Shin felt his heart stop as he waited for her response, knowing she could break his heart with her next words, but god he hoped that he hadn’t just scared her off.

#shin.pretties #shin.isla

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millipop · 4 years

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stole my mind and found my dreams

Summary: Princess Clarke is known as Wanheda - an assassin Graced with the skill of killing. But it's not until she meets Bellamy Blake that she starts believing she's capable of being so much more than the King's thug. Bellamy has a Grace of his own, and in him she meets her match - physically and emotionally. But Clarke's haunted by a violent past, and Bellamy has secrets of his own. When his family is threatened, Clarke and Bellamy discover the kingdom of Polaris is not all that it seems, and they must work together to uncover the truth behind Queen Alie's City of Light - and perhaps fall in love along the way.

chapter 4/4: if only you could see, heartstrings

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There’s something about the lady in the red dress that bothers Clarke.

Something about her eyes, maybe. Or perhaps it’s the blood-red shade of her dress, or the way her eyes keep darting down to Madi. For some reason, Clarke thinks her eyes should be a different colour. Brown? Why is that thought coming to her head?

Clarke doesn’t like her, but she can’t explain, even to herself, why.

But Queen Alie is being very nice and welcoming, inviting Clarke into the room, and smiling at them. The group around the table smile too. They aren’t doing anything – not eating or drinking or working. It’s as if they’ve been waiting, gathered around for the sole purpose of Clarke and Madi’s arrival.

There’s a dark-skinned man with a gaudy crown on his head, with features that seem familiar in a way. A woman with dark hair and light eyes next to him, her face gaunt yet elegant. Across from them is a younger woman, the same dark hair but eyes brighter, piercing. And a man next to her, strong and built, with tattoos. She knows this man; he’s her friend. Lincoln. He works with Eden. That’s right. She can trust him.

She takes a hesitant step into the room. Proceed carefully, she tells herself. Madi is clutching at her, crying, and sobbing words into Clarke’s jacket.

‘She’s lying. She’s lying. Don’t listen to her, please Clarke! She’s lying.’

So Madi doesn’t like the woman either. That would have to be taken into consideration.

‘My heir, my missing heir,’ Queen Alie says. She stands up from her chair. A larger, more extravagant chair, a throne really, that doesn’t match the simple carved wooden ones the others sit in. ‘She’s sick,’ the woman says, sorrow lacing her voice. ‘It’s horrible to see her suffer, I wish to take her pain away. If she would just come to me.’

‘No, no, no,’ Madi cries. ‘She’s lying, don’t let her touch me.’

Clarke frowns. Madi’s sick. Queen Alie has clearly said so. And she could take the pain away. But was that right if Madi didn’t want her to?

‘Octavia, go and help your niece.’

The name makes Clarke’s head jerk up. Octavia. Bellamy’s sister. It doesn’t make her relax. The younger woman stands and comes towards them, hands out to Madi.

‘Come on Madi. I’m your Aunt Octavia. You can come with me.’ Octavia’s voice is husky and deep, and a mix of the Arcadian and Trigedan accents.

When Octavia reaches them, Madi screeches, holding on tighter to Clarke and kicking out at her aunt. Octavia frowns, a puzzled expression aimed at Clarke.

‘She’s hysterical.’

‘Madi, don’t you know your Aunt Octavia? You loved stories about her. Slash don’t stab, remember? She can protect you.’

But Clarke’s pleas fall on deaf ears, and Madi just turns into Clarke’s arms even more, muttering under her breath. ‘Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies.’

Clarke shrugs at Bellamy’s sister. ‘Sorry. I promised to take care of her. I think she’ll only trust me or Bellamy right now.’

Octavia purses her lips at this. ‘Where is my brother?’

‘Indeed,’ a cool voice rings out again. ‘You seem to be missing one of your party. Prince Bellamy is alive, I hope?’

There’s something under Queen Alie’s voice that makes Clarke, just for a second, think that may be a lie. But just as quick as the throught surfaces in her mind, it’s gone.

‘Yes,’ Clarke says uncertainly, because she knows that’s true. But she can’t help the feeling she’s supposed to be pretending he’s dead. But why would that be?

Queen Alie’s eyebrows rise. ‘How wonderful. Maybe we can help him. Where is he?’

‘No!’ Madi suddenly screams. ‘Don’t tell her, Clarke! Don’t tell her, don’t tell her, don’t tell her.’

‘Shh,’ Clarke tries to calm the girl down, but she’s looking at her with such wild desperation that she can’t help but nod slightly, if just to appease her.

‘Don’t tell him, please,’ Madi begs.

‘I won’t,’ Clarke promises. She tucks her own face into Madi’s hair, and it seems to ground her a little. When she’s not looking at the others, with her eyes closed and her arms full of Madi, it feels right not to tell Alie where Bellamy is. Even if they could maybe help. After all, the girl is so adamant.

When Clarke looks up again, Octavia is hanging back a bit, expression still confused. It matches the faces of the others, still stationary and vacant eyed around the table. Only Alie’s eyes are sharp, but she’s still smiling genially at Clarke.

‘I see,’ she says. ‘That’s fine. We can find out later.’ She runs her eyes over Madi again, as if calculating. The girl whimpers and slinks behind Clarke more, hiding. ‘Princess Madi isn’t herself,’ Alie finally says. ‘She’s ill, and confused, and for some reason thinks I’ll hurt her. Of course, it’s the opposite. I won’t let anything hurt my dear Madi again.’

The Queen steps out from her chair, sliding to the side of the room. She doesn’t walk any closer, though, seeming to realise Madi would make a fuss.

‘I’ve been telling the Arcadian royal family here, Lady Clarke,’ she sweeps a hand at the people at the table. ‘About what happened in Polaris. How poor Madi ran away after Princess Luna’s tragic accident. How you and Prince Bellamy found her, and you’ve been keeping her safe for me. I must thank you most ardently for that.’

The Arcadian royal family. Clarke’s eyes scan the room again. The crowned man, whose features reminded her so strongly of someone. Proud and noble. A king. A Jaha. Wells!

But there’s a vagueness to his eyes that never existed in the friend she rescued. Rescued? From whom? Something swirls in Clarke’s mind. Hadn’t it been Alie? No, it was Mount Weather. That was where she had met Bellamy.

Bellamy. The woman next to Jaha, her features were so like his. Because it was his mother. Aurora, Clarke manages to remember.

The woman in question is staring at Clarke, her chin jutting proudly just like Bellamy’s. The same cheekbones, perhaps?

A cleared throat interrupts her thoughts, and Clarke stares back at Alie again.

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I’ve kept her safe.’

‘I’m curious, Lady Clarke,’ Queen Alie hums. ‘So curious. How did you leave Polaris? Did you cross the mountains?’

‘Yes,’ Clarke answers, before she can think about it.

The Queen’s eyebrows rise again, but she doesn’t laugh. Instead, a disturbing sort of smile graces her face, like she’s angry and humoured at the same time.

‘That seemed like the most logical answer, when we couldn’t find you,’ she nods. ‘I wasn’t sure whether I should just wait for you to surface somewhere in the other kingdoms. But then I found out that you weren’t welcome in Sanctum. Princess no more. And of course,’ she adds, eyes on the royal family. ‘I needed to find my heir again. Everyone is searching the kingdoms for you, but I decided to try Arcadia myself. You were with Prince Bellamy, after all.’ She stops, eyes glittering on Clarke’s. ‘It was the logical conclusion.’

‘You didn’t have to worry,’ Clarke replies, confused. ‘I kept her safe. I made sure we survived.’

‘And I thank you for that. Especially now you’ve brought her to my estate, here in Arcadia.’

Her estate? Wasn’t this Bellamy’s estate? Or was it hers? But that was ridiculous. She was a disgraced ex-princess of Sanctum. This was the first time she’d set foot in Arcadia. It can’t be her estate. Why does she think that?

Clarke’s head hurts. It’s like there’s a thick fog behind her eyes, impenetrable and dizzying. And it feels familiar. But she can’t quite place it.

‘You’re welcome,’ she manages, although there’s not much sincerity behind it.

‘Now,’ Alie says, taking a heeled step towards them. Madi draws back, and Clarke with her. If only to protect her. Alie just smiles. ‘Now I just want to make sure you’re okay, Madi. I am medically trained. I can make sure she’s in no more pain. But I need her here to examine her.’

No pain for Madi. That sounded good right? Madi was crying, and Queen Alie could help.

‘Yes,’ Clarke agrees, but Madi is still collapsed against her, and shaking her head with vigour. Clarke pauses. ‘I will,’ she continues, ‘But maybe later. When she’s feeling a little better.’

Alie’s smile freezes on her face. ‘I think she needs my attention now,’ she says calmly, yet there’s an edge to her voice that pulls at the fog in Clarke’s mind.

‘Madi’s my responsibility,’ Clarke says, her voice coming out firmer than she feels. ‘She’ll stay with me for now.’

The Queen’s blue eyes glitter again. Something tells Clarke, in the back of her head, that there’s danger. But what? It’s a cold rising in her, but the fog stays, curling around every thought, as much as she tries to shake it away.

But Alie smiles again, retreating a little, and the alarm Clarke’s body feels subsides a little. ‘Well it’s commendable you’re so intent on protecting her, Wanheda. I will examine her later.’

‘What about my brother?’ Octavia speaks again. She’s standing near Lincoln, frowning at Clarke. ‘What happened to him?’

‘Yes,’ agrees Aurora, speaking for the first time. Bellamy’s mother stands up, looking intensely at Clarke. ‘You haven’t said whether he’s okay. Is he injured? Hurt?’

‘We are so anxious to hear,’ Alie chimes in. ‘Is he nearby? In reach of our help?’

Clarke blinks at them, once again confused. She wants to talk to Bellamy’s family. Assure them that he’s safe, or so she hopes. But weren’t there things she had to keep secret too? The fog made it hard to separate. What was important, what did she have to hide?

‘I don’t want to talk about Bellamy,’ she says defiantly, shaking her head. ‘He’s fine.’ If she can’t be sure, better to say nothing at all.

Bellamy’s mother looks disappointed, Octavia angry, but Alie purses her lips. ‘A shame.’ She begins to walk very slowly behind the throne, a deliberate pace. ‘He is such an interesting man. An accomplished fighter, so I hear, and incredibly loyal. And brave.’

The Queen seems to have realised that walking any closer will make Madi or Clarke nervous now, so she just wanders around her chair, manicured hand trailing over the armrests.

‘But of course,’ she continues after Clarke nods. ‘We all have secrets. And he, I believe, more than anyone.’

The hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck stand up, and her heart speeds up suddenly. Yet she can’t quite grasp why, the fog pulling away the answer as she reaches for it.

‘Yes,’ Alie says, staring directly at Clarke now, bright blue eyes boring into her own. ‘He posed a problem for me, you see. But then you spirited Madi away,’ she clears her throat. ‘To protect her, and I didn’t get to talk to him or you about it. But I am so interested, and I have a theory of my own, about our dear Bellamy.

‘And since he may reach our shores one day, from wherever he is…waiting, I believe I should enlighten you all, his family, of my theory. Yes, his loyalty is a commendable quality indeed. But I don’t believe Prince Bellamy has been quite as faithful to his family as he could be.’

Clarke is frozen in her gaze. Alie doesn’t even blink.

‘I think you, Lady Clarke Griffin, might hold the answer to solving this most unfortunate conundrum.’

Octavia, Lincoln and Jaha are frowning, but Aurora looks confused, glancing between the Queen and Clarke like she’s watching a racquet match. Clarke herself finds herself blinking furiously, trying to remember something. Something important, lost in the fog.

‘The secret, you see, is about Prince Bellamy’s Grace,’ Queen Alie concludes, standing in front of her throne with her arms clasped elegantly together.

Aurora stands suddenly, pushing her chair back with a loud scrape. ‘Wait, no,’ she begins, and looks at Clarke. Instead of confusion, there’s fear, and Clarke knows it’s mirrored back at her. Twin alarms. They both know something is very wrong. But what? What was so important and dangerous that Clarke knows Alie shouldn’t say it?

‘I believe that your honourable prince, your son, your brother, has been keeping an immense secret. Am I correct, Lady Clarke?’

Clarke can only stutter, head barely shaking.

‘His Grace,’ Queen Alie says. ‘I think that it’s…’

The fog occupying Clarke’s mind doesn’t dissipate or go away, in that moment. Instead, it crystallizes, shards pressing into her consciousness. She knows with unerring certainty that she cannot let Alie continue talking.

She’s not even altogether sure why. And she’s not sure why it feels so familiar and right to draw her gun and aim it at the Queen in the red dress.

All she knows is Bellamy has a secret, and if it’s revealed, it will hurt him and ruin his life. And she loves Bellamy, and she can’t let that happen.

Queen Alie is standing in front of her throne, a slight smile on her face as she’s about to speak her next words. She only just registers Clarke drawing her gun, too focused on delivering her words to the others, before Clarke squeezes the trigger.

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#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #mine #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke fic #my fic

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charlettebffxiv · 4 years

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Prompt #9: Lush

There’s a series of great murals inside the village library, set on a wall furthest from the entrance to the tall, stone building. Charlette had spent countless days when she was little more than twelve winters into her life staring at them, sitting between tall piles of books she had pulled from the rows that filled the building. It helped her imagine the places she was reading about, letting her dream-up the parts of Eorzea from where the legends she would lose herself in took place, parts she had never seen. Each painting was massive, taking up the entire length of one of the three walls that made the observatory which protruded from the rear-end of the library, creating a neat little alcove for readers. Thanalan on the western wall, La Noscea on the eastern and The Black Shroud between them toward the south.

Each one depicted their nation's landscapes in the most dramatic fashion. Thanalan was mostly barren with sparse, dry looking trees dotting a landscape of red sand and stone. Tall rock formations stood like pillars across the horizon, cut by wind and rain and layered with the history of those that had walked their surfaces ages past. The dried skull of a chocobo sat atop a rock, cacti standing tall around it. And far in the distance you could make out the tall towers and great walls of Ul’dah, shining in the swirls of dust. Just looking at it made her want to lick her lips, dry as they would be, and reach for a glass of water she wouldn’t dare have near so many books. It was the perfect setting for the stories she had collected of the roving merchants traveling long distances and fighting off bandits and beastmen alike to reach the vast, rich city that sat at the center of it all. Sometimes the stories were told from the perspective of said bandits, each one almost as heroic as they were cunning, despite their criminal occupation. Sometimes it spoke of the grand palace and the intrigue within between royalty, wealthy merchants and cunning syndicates. Stories of Paladins heroically protecting their charge or brilliant princesses outwitting their devious and greedy competitors within the gilded halls of Ul’dah’s elite were Charlette’s favourite. She had dreamed of herself one day gracing those halls, of wearing fine silken dresses and fencing with words and wit among the best the city had to offer. Or of donning the armour of a Paladin and finding her match in one of those cunning bandits, sometimes even entertaining a romance between sworn enemies who equaled each other in more ways than martial prowess.

La Noscea’s mural was a grand view of the ocean from the white cliffs it was famous for. The soft greenery that lay atop it swaying in a gust of what must be salty ocean wind. The ocean itself stretched onward to the horizon, the great pirate city of Limsa Lominsa stark against the blue sky, far away enough to seem tiny but still standing tall on the bluffs that rose from the water itself. All manner of boats sailed across the infinite blue from great galleons to small fishing boats and even rafts a few too many people aboard them. All of them making their way to or from the nautical center of the sea. Flocks of seagulls fluttered, dark against the bright sun, and a looming shadow pierced the surface of the water with a spiked fin, some manner of leviathan that lurked below the waters. Each tale from these lands concerned itself with life on or near the sea. Of daring pirates conducting raids on the open ocean, the terrors of the high-seas, and the brave captains that dueled with them for the right to pass toward riches in lands far away. Of coastal villages that weathered great storms, pirate raids and hunted the terrifying beasts beneath the waves. And of course legends that spoke of these hunters and fisherman that vowed to best the most horrifying monstrosities that made sport of swimmer and galleon alike. Charlette had dreamed of seeing the ocean for the first time, of what it might smell like, look like and all the sensations of being immersed in more water than she had ever seen. She imagined the apprehension of being surrounded by pirates in a city run by literal criminals. A naive Gridanian wandering among the cutthroat and hardened people of the sea. Would she captain a ship? Be captured by pirates? Or find herself shipwrecked and forced to integrate into an isolated island community with their own unique and fascinating way of life? The romance and adventure of life on the water felt endless to her then. Finally, The Black Shroud, home of Gridania, Willow’s Heart and her; Charlette Bellamy. Tall oaks filled the frame from one end to the other, the closest towering as tall as the bluffs of Thanalan, and the furthest forming a green sea that stretched as far as La Noscea’s ocean. The forest floor was teeming with life, a mother boar and several of her piglets grazed in a corner, unaware of the coeurl that stalked them from atop a fallen tree, it’s own cubs watching their mother hunt. Opo-opo lounged in the branches of a tree, one pulling the tail of another that had its mouth open in a shriek, several birds fluttering from the canopy above having been spooked by the beastkins mischief. A morbol sat in a pond, only it’s massive mouth and its many rows of teeth visible above the water, a gigantoad lounging beside it. Beastkin, seedkin, wavekin and others were represented in small ways across the mural and in the center, as if a tunnel had been made by the trees, you could see wooden houses. Built in among the trunks and trees, over the rivers and around the moss-covered boulders was Gridania. Unlike the other two cities, this one did not cut a stark contrast against the landscape around it, but more it looked to be a piece of the lush forest itself. The only people that could be seen were a Woodwailer, a Botanist and an Archer walking down the path leading to the city itself, all of them distinguishable by the spear, ax and bow on their backs. Although, if someone were to look closer at the edges of the forest and between the trees, they would see a black-skinned keeper with silver hair watching the walkers to the east from her perch upon a branch. Charlette had no need to imagine herself here in any heroic capacity, as this was home and her reality in this place was all too clear. This is where she was herself, the hopeful student of the Archives and maybe one day an adventurer that would see the rest of the world. There was no need for adventure, for her to be a powerful noble or join one of the roving bands of her people in the forest. In truth the only thing Charlette had wished for was to be shed of her Duskwight lineage’s past, that she might feel just a little more confident in her chances with the Order of the Twin Adder or the adventurer’s guild. Now, however, she stood by these murals as a grown woman, one that had seen all of these places and even further beyond. And her wonder was embittered. Each of the murals missed something true about all these places. Something she had encountered in spades and was wholly unprepared for. The cruelty that built each one, the desperation that they all wrought in their own people. How noble begets bandit, pirate begets Warlord, Woodwailer begets brigand. She understood a little better now, just how much horror was needed for a legend to be born, and she no longer wished to be worthy of that. Now she wished to cure the need for it, and she would start here at home. Gods-willing, she would find a way.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years

Text

Essays in Existentialism: Nerd 12

Previously on Nerd

The sun hung, shy of noon but still late in the morning, bright against the blinds, burning bright white and glaring despite the insistence that waking wasn’t an option by the inhabitants of the bed. From the late night, the tired hung heavier than normal for the morning person in bed as she slowly woke and shifted, yawning and burying her face in the pillow again to try to grasp at the last semblances of sleep.

It took a while for Lexa to realize that she was in Clarke’s bed and not her own. The memory of the previous night slowly swirled around her consciousness as she remembered the dance, and the moments where Clarke tugged her along to the dance floor and kissed her sweetly. The memory of arriving at an empty house and feeling Clarke in bed, pushing her limits as far as she could before she imploded.

Lexa was afraid to move too much when she realized what was happening. She opened her eyes and surveyed the room in the morning light, and felt the body beside her shift and sigh in her sleep. Only after she was certain Clarke was asleep did she chance rolling over and facing the blonde.

On her back and quite a large sleeper, Clarke’s arm hung off the bed with the other around Lexa’s shoulder. The blankets hung low and her stomach showed beneath the old shirt while her hair was a mess on the pillow, covering everything. Lexa inhaled the smell of Clarke’s sheets and felt her dip in the mattress and felt where their legs touched and she tentatively slid her hand around Clarke’s hip, running her thumb across skin there.

Not ever had she allowed herself to imagine this moment, that she would share her bed with someone and want to touch them so badly, or that it felt good to feel the bed move. She hadn’t even thought about what a life worth sharing would look like, but it wasn’t the worst. It was something that made her feel very normal and warm.

The head cheerleader was pretty. She was kind and funny and sometimes stubborn to the point of obstinate. But she slept freely, arms and body open and eager for life, not at all defensive or cuddled up tiny. There was hope for her, Lexa realized, beneath the stress and the front she put up for the rest of the world.

Slowly, Clarke stirred, Lexa’s thumb on her hip making her wake. She tugged at the body that was warm and beside her, smiling as she oke and humming along with the sound of the morning.

“Hey,” Clarke whispered, still not opening her eyes.

“Morning.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Really well.”

“You’re kind of a blanket thief.”

“You kick in your sleep.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Clarke shook her head, rolling into her girlfriend embrace.

She had a girlfriend now. She had one of those things that she wasn’t quite sure what it meant except that if it was anything like dating Bellamy it would be somewhat nice. In such a short amount of time, she realized she hadn’t even thought about her ex at all. Gone was the apathetic notion of occasionally hanging out. Now, she found someone who blushed just to look at her, and there was something insanely wonderful about being liked.

“Good morning,” Lexa whispered again. She ran toes along bare calf and hooked herself closer to Clarke.

Still without opening her eyes, lethargic and quiet, Clarke kissed Lexa. She felt her lips and her body warmed with the feeling of it all. Lexa was a deceptively good kisser, even if she’d never think about something like that. She moved with a kind of ownership. There wasn’t a sensitivity or apprehension despite the inevitable overthinking, but rather a solid level of taking the reins and taking what she wanted.

Clarke dug her hand into Lexa’s messy hair and felt hands on her hips slip up her back and hips shift. She hadn’t meant to kiss that hard or that long, but she couldn’t stop and she wasn’t about to if Lexa was doing that thing with her teeth and tongue.

“So, girlfriend huh?”

“If you think you’re up to the job,” Clarke grinned and adjusted, tugging at the hem of Lexa’s old shift. “It comes with perks.”

“I’m kind of serious about a rule book.”

“There aren’t rules, you goober.”

“There have to be.”

“Nah, just good things. Like maybe spending a little time waking up together.”

“I like it so far,” Lexa conceded as her shirt rose and she watched Clarke’s fingers move up her torso.

“It means we get to keep picking up wherever we left off.”

There was a hand that slid up her chest and Lexa felt her knees go weak even though she was laying down. She felt a hand squeeze her, and fingertips run over her chest beneath her shirt, and she shifted despite herself. Clarke’s lips moved to her neck and her chin.

Eyes rolled back and dangerously flushed, Lexa swallowed and let Clarke move even more, rolling on top of her so her weight pinned her to the bed. It was just a good thing that Clarke was pressing against her chest, because Lexa was certain her limbs would pop.

For some reason, there was no hesitation in pushing back. Lexa moved without thinking, spreading her legs and slipping her hand low on Clarke’s hip. She didn’t hesitate to chase lips and clumsily chase any feeling of skin she could find. She sought the moan and the sigh and the noises that plagued her every thought.

But Clarke stopped, bolting up suddenly, her hands still rooted under Lexa’s shirt, palms warm and heavenly. She cocked her head, waiting for another sound before jolting out of the bed quickly and pulling clothes off of the floor to put on.

“You have to hide.”

“Hide? Why? What happened?”

“I thought my parents wouldn’t be home until this afternoon--”

“It’s…” Lexa squinted and looked at her phone as she leaned over the bed and grabbed it from the night stand. “It’s almost noon.”

“Clarke, honey, we’re home!” her mother’s voice rang through the halls.

Clarke froze and stared at her girlfriend, wide-eyed and hair an absolute messy mane, tossed about haphazardly, her lips somewhat puffy from their excursion.

“I’ll be grounded for life if she finds you in here.”

“I thought I was allowed over.”

“I don’t think I ever said that,” Clarke shook her head, looking for clothes as she pushed her hair out of her face. “I said that my parents wouldn’t be here and you should come over.”

“Clarke, this isn’t the time for semantics.”

“You’re impinging on my honor. Now will you please get under my bed?”

“Are you kidding me?”

The look Lexa got in return was clearly showing that it wasn’t a joke, and with a sigh, she got to the ground and slid under the bed easy, careful to make sure she wasn’t visible at all. It wasn’t a second too soon. Just as Clarke kicked the remnants of Lexa’s outfit under the bed, the bedroom door opened.

“You’re still not up? Clarke, it’s nearly lunch time.”

“I’m getting up,” Clarke defended herself, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as she slipped on socks. “I’m going to go grab lunch with Lexa.”

“You just went to the dance, do you have to go out every day, Clarke? Don’t you have to study for the SAT and your History exam?”

“I’m fine for both.”

“Between work and this, this, this new girl, I don’t know how you get any studying done. It’s not good to be so wrapped up--”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re young, and you have to understand--”

“Do we have to do this lecture again? Can’t I just read the footnotes of the last dozen or so that you’ve given me?”

“If you’re going to talk like that, you can forget leaving this house.”

Lexa held her breath and closed her eyes, pressing herself against the floor as hard as she could, desperate to be away from the situation as best she could.

“I’ll be back around six,” Clarke muttered, picking up her coat and making her way toward the door.

The impending fow leaked out into the hall, and Lexa felt herself breathe when the bedroom door slammed and Abby followed her daughter through the house. Only when everything was centered down in the living room did she slip out from under the bed, goofy grin on her face at the narrow escape she’d made and how absolutely fascinating it’d already been to date Clarke Griffin.

With a few quick movements and still barefoot but with her clothes in hand, Lexa lifted Clarke’s window, tossed them down, and jumped down to the ground.

When she turned around, she met the eyes of the man she assumed to be Clarke’s father, or at least the same eyes of the man in all of the pictures that hung on the wall and that Clarke had scattered about her room.

Frozen, she didn’t move for a solid minute, but it felt much longer. She was certain there was a mark on her neck. She knew that there was lipstick on the white shirt she wore. She knew what it looked like and she gulped before leaning down to pick up her pile of clothes and bolting through the yard as fast as her feet would carry her.

“Your daughter is absolutely impossible. You have to deal with her because I’m at the end of my rope,” Abby muttered as she stomped her way into the kitchen, beat again by a teenagers innate way of pushing the soft, mushy bruises of one’s person with inherent ease. “She’s out of control, no thought for the future, sleeps all day, works at that shitty diner, obsessing over school girl crushes, and for what? To cheer? To just settle for drawing pictures?”

Without moving, Jacob Griffin braced himself against the counter in the kitchen as he struggled to finish getting a glass of water from the sink. But he chuckled to himself and shook his head.

“What’s so funny?” his wife furrowed, crossing her arms.

“I just saw the weirdest looking deer in the yard.”

“You aren’t even listening to--”

Off on another tangent, his wife tossed up her hands and ranted through the house while he stood there and shook his head, once again in awe of his daughter’s antics.

XXXXXXXXXX

“So you jumped out of her bedroom window?”

“Yup.”

“And her dad saw?”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t hook up with her?”

“No.”

“But you’re her girlfriend.”

“Yeah. That’s what she said.”

Lexa balanced the phone against her ear as she half listened to her sister and half fret over a piece of footage that didn’t feel quite right. She went back and watched the clip a few times, debating the edit Luna had made. Half hunched over her computer desk, her headphones half hung on an ear while the other was tugged to the side so she could hear her sister. She used a pencil to itch her shoulder before jotting a few notes in the often sloppy notebook that spread out across her desk.

A mug of tea was half-sipped and cooling past the point of enjoyable. Rain tapped against the window, and Lexa could ear the nagging in her sister’s voice.

“So how do you feel now?”

“About what?” Lexa furrowed, going back and pressing play again.

“About dating someone.”

“Well, it feels pretty much like not dating someone, except now I get to make out sometimes.”

“You’re not like, you know,” Anya ventured, surprisingly walking around the point as gently as she, a human cannonball, was capable. “You’re not like getting too into it, right?”

“I mean, I’m kind of into it. Clarke’s great.”

“You can’t get in over your head, Lex. Be careful.”

“What do you mean?” she furrowed, confused enough to step back from focusing on the computer. She had a pretty firm deadline and a script to write. Her script. Her submission for college. She had a lot to do as well as study for a physics test, write a history paper, and put together the video for AV club and the championship game.

“You’ve never done this before,” the eldest cautioned. “Don’t get so wrapped up in someone that you lose yourself.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“You could. It happens.”

“Not to you.”

“Because I’m a heartbreaker, not a heartbroken sap.”

“I’m not a sap.”

“You are.”

“How?”

“Just. Shut up. Listen,” Anya sighed. Across the country she stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk in the busy city on the college side of town. Hidden beneath a thick beanie her hair was fighting against her ears. Streetlights were already on, and she imagined her sister in a similar position to what she could be found, tucked up at her desk and half listening.

But she was a big sister who failed to protect Aden, and failed to help her sister most of the time, who failed to keep her parents from hiding, who let everyone shrink, and somehow, the self-appointed patriarch of the family was prepared to off some caution.

“You let someone be part of our life, and you don’t give any of yourself away for them. You feel things different, and it’s not a bad thing. But you are good Lexa. You have to be careful not to give yourself up.”

“I don’t know what any of that means. I really just felt Clarke’s boobs for the first time last night.”

“I’m trying to teach you something important, moron.”

“Well, I don’t know what that means and I’m busy.”

“I need you to please understand at least part of the way.”

“Can I call you back?”

“No, just listen. Just. Okay, focus,” Anya sighed again, heavier than before. “Do you remember when you made me watch that movie where the husband and wife are getting a divorce, but they weren’t good at it? Like they kept fighting and by the end, you were confused how they ever loved each other and she yells at him, something about giving herself up.”

“Yeah, yeah, that movie was overacted and not edited well.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I’m not getting married or giving up my acting career for my husband’s success.”

It wasn’t quite the point, but Anya closed her eyes and shook her head, her cheeks tinted with the chill left in the not-quite-spring air. Maybe something seeped in, and as happy as she was for her sister doing something normal, like making out with a girl, Anya was still apprehensive because who else would be for her sister?

“Good.”

“That was a very good reference point.”

“You touched her boobs, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Lexa smiled and nodded.

“How was it?”

“I’m definitely gay.”

It was a bark of a laugh, but Anya couldn’t help it. Lexa smiled and blushed slightly at the confession. It felt painfully real and honest.

“Fine, tell me about whatever you’re working on now.”

In an instant, Lexa was rambling about the problems with her new project and brainstorming aloud about her script and fretting over if her ideas were stupid or whatever. From the hallway, her father paused by her cracked door, and listened as his daughters talked as they did almost every other day, chatting about everything, even things he wished he hadn’t heard. But he loved them immensely in that moment.

Before he walked away, he made a mental note to have another sex talk with his daughter.

XXXXXXXXX

“I’m announcing myself so you don’t hurt yourself again!”

The voice came down the hall toward the garage as Lexa smiled and carefully extricated herself from beneath the Bronco’s body, grease covering her shoulder and neck. Hair up in a pony tail and old jeans covered in streaks.

It was not late in the evening, and part of Lexa knew she still had a bunch of stuff to do for the upcoming week, but she couldn’t bring herself to waste a Sunday without putting a little more work into her future car and escaping to the quiet of the garage to commune with the dead for a little while, mulling over her script while she took apart a transmission.

“You’re right on time to help me.”

“I don’t really do cars or anything, but I brought you a burger.”

Holding up a bag, Clarke appeared, grinning and waiting. Lexa accepted the bag and then leaned in for a kiss which was eagerly accepted and added to.

“How long have you been down here?” Clarke asked, taking a seat on the hood of the old SUV.

“Um,” Lexa looked at her watch and furrowed again. “Maybe a few hours.”

She took out her food and smiled before taking a bite, knowing enough to earn a disapproving glance because she disappeared into the garage. There was a bit of worry beneath it, something that Clarke didn’t quite understand, but that she was certainly almost getting, about communing and finding peace.

For a long while the two chatted about nothing and everything in particular, something Lexa was never really known to do. She didn’t usually have much to say, but sh always seemed to with Clarke. And there were moments of quiet, where she worked on something, consulting the giant manual like her father showed her, jotting notes in the pages as she went to work on heavy metal parts.

Clarke slipped inside the cab, onto the unfinished and torn seats, reclining on the uncomfortable chair. She put her feet up on the dashboard and mused about the upcoming week, and after digging through the engine well, Lexa looked at her and then her mind went blank as her hands moved.

“You should be the actor in my movie.”

“That is the worst suggestion I’ve ever heard from you,” Clarke rolled her eyes and adjusted the seat, fiddling with the visor, flipping it a few times.

“Wait,” Lexa stopped and furrowed, twirling the wrench in her hand for a second. “Maybe not. Anya made a very strong parable with this exact situation.”

Hip half cocked, Lexa stood and stared at the engine under the hood, unsure of what she said, though she spent a good portion of time truly believing that it was important and that Clarke would be perfect. The disonnence didn’t make sense.

“I’m not an actor.”

“It’ll work. Very Linklater-esque, I think.”

“His movies are too long.”

“It’ll be easy.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your art or whatever.”

“I think I really mean it,” Lexa decided, wiping her hands on an old cloth as she surveyed the workbench, afraid to turn around.

“Why don’t you actually really mean it, and then we can talk numbers.”

“Oh, I can’t pay you anything.”

“You’ll have to talk to my agent to negotiate.”

Lexa just rolled her eyes and hopped into the passenger side of her own shell of a car. Clarke greeted her with a big smile as some music played from her phone in the middle of the cup holder. She leaned forward and earned another kiss, this one deeper than the first, content and slightly tired and in need of a shower. But it didn’t stop Clarke from tugging her across the middle.

“I didn’t get to see you much this week.”

“Cross country kicked my ass, and finishing this script. This is the first time I’ve made it to the garage. My dad’s going to come down and help me on a few things after dinner.”

“He just got back, yeah?”

“Mhm. Stockholm.”

Clarke pulled back.

“I shouldn’t mount you, I guess.”

“I mean, I’m okay with it.”

The cheerleader just laughed and shook her head.

“Thank you for distracting me.”

“I didn’t know I was.”

“You are. I needed it today.”

“I think that’s part of my job, honestly.”

“I call you my girlfriend once, and you already have a list of job responsibilities.”

“You’re a full-time job,” Lexa smiled, earning a pretty face and eyes and all of it, even though she was absolutely caked in dirt and had been unresponsive for hours.

“I know.”

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captaindaddykru · 4 years

Photo

everything is icy and blue (and you would be there too)

When Eligius XV-b gets stranded on a on a faraway planet made of snow on the corner of the middle of nowhere, Captain Blake does definitely not think a snowball fight is the logical next step. His crew has other plans.

A fic written for Sara @kindclaws for @bellarke-secretsanta. I really hope you like it. Read on AO3 or under the cut. Happy holidays!

The blare of an alarm makes him surge awake seconds after he’s finally fallen into a slumber, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes briefly to repress the urge to scratch them out. Clarke barely stirs beside him. An orange light flashes through the room with an exponentially high speed so Bellamy quickly scrambles forward to the touchscreen comm system next to his baydoor. “Shaw?”

“Cap. We got a situation,” it’s Raven instead, even though he explicitly told her she needed some sleep after that scare they had — he checks his watch — all of thirty-six minutes ago. “That meteor storm we passed through — me and St. John used the force of gravitational acceleration instead of relying on regular DAM, but the engine must’ve idled for too long and now the fuel isn’t vaporizing in the carburettor. I’ve tried throttling it but it looks like the alternator gave out after that hit we took —”

Bellamy racks his brain, trying to keep up with her, but he’s barely slept and he’s definitely no engineer. His voice is rough with sleep as he barks, cutting her off mid-sentence, “Translation?”

“Boom!” She snaps through the comm system, her voice slightly distorted as the overhead lights start to flicker, power surging on and off in flashes, the ship hovering to the right for a second before the backup generator kicks in. “It means fucking boom if we don’t land somewhere, fast.”

That’s about the short version of how they end up on a giant snowball, eTNO Unidentified Planet 99, on the outer rim of the Polis System, hacking up smoke. The longer version includes a tense improvised six minute autorotative descent, an impossibly rocky emergency landing with multiple on-board explosions included, sweat rolling down his back, Jasper deeming the planet ‘ O-LAF ’ at the most inappropriate of times, and a lot of yelling.

Like eardrum splitting yelling. He’s still panting, yanking off his helmet and tossing it aside so he can take a real breath. He looks around the room, everybody seems relatively fine. A few are groaning or trying to slow their breathing, re-collecting their bearings but he thinks they’ll live.

“Emergency lockdown, all systems out of order. Please follow protocol Evacuation Procedure.” ALIE’s — their ship’s interactive AI’s consciousness — voice keeps booming over the overhead announcement speakers, stuck on repeat. “Emerge-Emergency lockdown. Downlock Emerge. Gencydown Lock. Lock. Lock. Emergency. Order out.”

“Short-circuit during landing must’ve fried the girl,” Shaw yells over the loud alarm blaring, unfastening his seatbelts to walk over to a nearby control board. He starts typing furiously, ALIE continues to have a public break down. “Protocol. Fol-low-low. Proto. Low. Col. L-l-l-ol. Lol. Lol. Lol. Lol. Lol.”

“Glad someone’s enjoying themselves,” Murphy grumbles, rolling his neck in circles with a pained look on his face.

Shaw presses a big red button in the middle of the control panel and her voice distorts before it shuts off completely. In addition, the alarms finally shut up, only the flashing orange light streaking across their ship in pulses. He smirks, a little prideful, hands on his hips as he admires the looks of relief on everybody’s face.

“Thank God,” Raven breathes, wiping some sweat off her forehead with the back of her wrist as she slumps back into her seat. One of her co-pilots, Emori reaches out her first for a congratulatory bump, because a successful landing doesn’t mean it’s not a bumpy ride.

“So, O-LAF?” Jasper cuts in, a plethora of voices breaking out to tell him to shut the fuck up in various degrees of annoyed, raging from ‘ bothered ’ to ‘ ready to put him on an ejection seat and say bye-bye ’.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, deciding to let someone else take it this time as he shifts his head to the side, eyes zeroing in on Clarke. She’s struggling with the buckle of her seatbelt, her hands trembling and a crease in between her brows.

“Damnit,” he hears her mutter under his breath as he comes close enough, patting Miller on the shoulder on his way there. It’s a small gesture of ‘ glad you’re still alive ’ that they all have down by now. Even if they’re just on a scientifically based exploratory mission, trouble still runs into them on the regular.

Bellamy crouches down in front of her, stilling her hands with his. He looks up at her, searching her face for any signs of distress, but bar from the small cut on her forehead, she seems unharmed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, the frustration she was holding in her shoulders deflating at the sight of him as she lets out a shaky exhale.

He doesn’t dare look at her straight the eye as he raises his eyebrows, busying himself by checking out the cut on her forehead and brushing away a few strands of her hair, but he can’t keep the skepticism out of his voice. “And—”

The laceration is shallow, just a scratch. She grits her teeth, the tone of her voice making his eyes snap back up to hers. They’re a dark, geomagnetic lunar radiation storm kind of blue, swirling with heat. “ Fine . Bellamy.”

“Okay,” he concedes, even if he’s not fully satisfied with her answer. It’s why he can’t shut up immediately. “It’s just that I’m not used to seeing you affected so much. This landing was a breeze compared to when we were part of that fighting unit—”

“Bellamy,” she seethes, cupping his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks even if there’s a small amount of amusement layered in her gaze now. “ Fine .”

He clamps his mouth shut, giving her a small nod. He trusts her more than himself, so if she says she’s fine, he’ll just have to believe she is. Finally, he reaches for her seatbelt, unbuckling it skillfully.

Bellamy smirks, but she cuts in before he can let it get too smug. “Don’t.”

He helps pull her up from her seat with both hands, and they return to the rest of the group to find them fully immersed in a speculatory discussion about the planet they just crashed, covered in a blanket of white snow. Or at least, they hope it’s snow. You never know.

“Is it breathable?” Harper wonders, hands on her hips as she stares at the dwindling snowflakes outside through their front windshield. There’s a look of awe on her face, and Bellamy knows she’s from a small system of star planets on the left-border of the solar Sanctum region. She must’ve never seen anything like it before.

“I’m not sure,” Raven grunts, eyes fixated on the control board in front of her, even as it malfunctions, a blue hue from the screen covering her face. The taps of her fingers get rougher and rougher with each press until he’s not fully convinced it couldn’t just be classified as punching, “ALIE didn’t complete her planetary readings before she shut down.”

“If it is I would like to collect some samples,” Monty pipes in, to which Jasper elbows him, overexagerratingly subtle, snorting, “Yeah, yeah, and with that he means he would like to go outside and make a snow angel.”

“Shut up. It’s for science,” he counters, eyes narrowed into sliths as he rubs his sore side. Some would say it was a bet taking two unexperienced scientists fresh from college onto his crew, but he’d argue and say they keep morale high, just as import.

“You’re a botanist,” Jasper deadpans, look on his face sobering. “The whole thing is covered in snow as far as we can see.”

Before the other wonder twin can form a response their main pilot roars, “God!”, slamming her first into the panel.

“Hey. Hey.” Shaw grabs Raven’s hand with his, tugging her a step back from the command panel until she’s tucked under his arm. “Easy on the Genius-on-Genius violence.”

“Okay,” Emori says it like a conclusion, swerving the seat closer to the panel and plopping down on it. Her metal prosthesis makes a clicking noise as it moves over the touchscreen to type. “I think if we can get ALIE back up, we’ll need about 30 minutes to find out.”

“While we wait, I would like to bring O-LAF back up for discus—”

Shaw just manages to hold Raven back, her fist already raised in the air.

“Alright,” Bellamy shouts authoritatively, slipping his fingers from Clarke’s to hold up his hands in a steadying manner. “While Emori works on getting ALIE back, how about we assess the damage to the rest of the ship? Keep busy?” His eyes flicker over to Jasper, half-hiding behind Monty while Raven still glowers at him with venom. “Maybe it’s best if we all split up, yeah? Cover more ground.”

Everybody goes off in pairs, and he stays behind to check up with Emori before going to find Clarke. It doesn’t take long to discover her in front of the bay window on the bridge by herself, fingers wrapped around the railing in front of it as she stares outside.

Even after all these years, the fights, the victories and the losses, the scars and the scares, the hard decisions and the easier ones — she still manages to take his breath away.

It’s hard to imagine that up until a few short years ago they despised each other. Bellamy, a second captain to a battle fleet, and Clarke, designated field medic, always finding something to disagree on. It was fun , fighting with her, anything not to be thinking about how, during those days, they lost pieces of who they were mission by mission, chipping away at them with each impossible decision and lost comrade. Then she almost died, and then she almost died again , and then he figured that if she liked him saving her life so much, maybe they shouldn’t be wasting any more time. Together, they put in their transfer requests the day after they got married.

Bellamy can’t say he doesn’t miss the action, but, despite them being ten times smaller, interstellar explorer missions that are someday going to change science and then life as they know it — pretty awesome, too, if you ask him. Besides, he was promoted to captain and has his own ship now, gets to pick his own crew, and it means everything — everything — knowing she’s not constantly out there risking her life anymore. All that really matters is that she’s safe.

He clears his throat in an effort not to scare her, coming up beside her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she says, and it takes another second for her to tear her gaze off the snowstorm outside, blinking up at him with a soft smile on her face before leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

Bellamy muffles a gruff chuckle. “You tired?”

She rubs her face against him, maybe to wake herself up more, her eyes droopy nonetheless. “A little.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder so she can lean more of her weight on his chest, rubbing her bicep slowly. “I really hoped we’d make it back in time.”

In time for the holidays. Meizenbranahoud , which roughly translates to a beautiful new world. It’s not an exact science, since time doesn’t work the same everywhere in the universe, but roughly every six-hundred Earth days they celebrate the beginning of a new period of time. After the war it was a way for them to remember their fallen, celebrate their heroes and keep hope alive that change would come. It’s symbolic for leaving the past behind and starting over new, better people. A time everyone typically shares with family and friends.. And of course, the perfect excuse to get drunk and eat until they’re about to burst for most.

“Yeah,” Clarke mumbles, stifling a yawn, “Would’ve been nice to see mom and Octavia.”

He doesn’t want to talk about Octavia and feel a weird kind of sad but happy right now, so instead he focuses his gaze on the world outside. “Pretty,” he says, absently, glancing down at her.

She hums in agreement, fingers clutching his shirt lightly. “We haven’t seen snow in a while.”

Their last planet was a sandy desert, the one before that made out of glass. There was one that was just an ocean, and last year they went to a moon with two suns. It had a lot of forests, but no snow.

They should probably join their friends into figuring out exactly what level of screwed they are, that is if they ever want to get out of here, but Bellamy trusts his technical crew to get them home, no matter what. Over the years, they’ve learned to take in the view. The planet seems to be overcast by dreamlike blue-ish aurorae, and there’s a gleam in the thick layer of snow covering the ground like it’s made out of tiny little diamonds.

There’s an excited yelp far down the hall from them, then his favorite co-pilots voice echoes through the corridors, “Everyone to the control room please. Emori is a genius. I repeat Emori is a genius and you all suck.”

Clarke makes an amused sound in the back of her throat as she pulls away to look at him, and he bites back a smile, nudging his head towards the general area of the control room.

Once they wander in, others trickling in at their own pace, ALIE’s familiar robotic voice is already blasting through the ship again. “Eligius XV-b approved for re-entry. All systems active. Clear for Touchdown Procedure. Initiating Touchdown Procedure. All shields are disengaged. Standby for airlocks depressurizing. ”

“I fixed her,” Emori beams at them over her shoulder from over by the panel, her long brown hair held down by a scarf falling down her back, still working furiously. Graphics show up on the holographic screen behind it, showcasing the atmospheric composition of the planet, the availability of energy sources, weather conditions and predictions, and most importantly, the level of breathable oxygen in the air.

“And in under twenty minutes?” Raven squeezes her shoulder in respect, sinking down in the seat beside her with her lips pursed and her eyebrows raised. “I’m impressed.”

“You know what they say,” Murphy smirks, arms crossed over his chest as he slithers up in front of the information screen. In a team full of scientist, engineers, pilots, medics and people with a military background — he is definitely the odd one out. He’s mostly just here because Emori said she wouldn’t come without him, but he’s picked up some useful skills over the missions they’ve spent together. He’s a great cook, very creative with the little rations they have which mostly consist out of algae. “The student becomes the master.”

“Airlocks depressurizing in three, two, seven, zero, shield, thirty, st-standby, standby—” Emori slams her metal hand down on a button in the middle of the panel, cutting her off abruptly. There’s a sheepish look on her face. “ Okay , she’s not fully recovered yet, but I know a thing or two about rehabilitation.”

“Ha,” Raven counters, dryly. Smug smirk on her face. “Plenty to learn.”

“So how soon can we get out of here?” Bellamy is still wishful-thinking that they might make it back in time to see his sister before she embarks on her next solar system tour. He barely sees her nowadays, and the holidays are the only time of the year she won’t make up excuses not to come home and he won’t have to feel selfish for asking her to. There’s so much to see , she’d tell him, eager enthusiasm evident in her green eyes even through a hologram, and I want to see it all .

Their engineer slash pilot is studying a diagram on the holographic screen in front of her, turning the image with her hands. It must be ALIE’s analysis of the engine. “We should be able to fix the alternator within the next ten minutes, actually.”

“What?” Jasper exclaims, suddenly interested in the conversation. He’s actually disappointed, it’s all over his face.

“It’s make or break it, really,” Emori adds, dimple forming in her forehead, suddenly sobered from her previous enthusiasm. “I’ve been trying to reach the base, but ALIE’s reach is limited now her brain got fried.”

“So if Raven can’t fix the alternator, we’re screwed?” Clarke concludes, her eyebrows wrinkled together. He keeps telling her that she has Resting Frown Face, always worried about something. This time, he has to agree with her.

He’s already pushing himself up from the panel he was leaning against, opening his mouth to jump in and really just get deeply into the fact about how they have to get home, but Raven is already scoffing, obviously deeply offended. “Of course I can fix the alternator.”

“I know you can fix anything,” Clarke muses, sending her a grin with just the barest gleam of her teeth before she presses, validly so, “But what if there’s nothing left to fix?”

She might be a genius, but she’s not a God. She can’t make an alternator appear out of thin air. What if it’s damaged beyond repair? The engineer just rolls her eyes, shrugging her sleek ponytail off her shoulder as she holds up two hands, emphasising, “Ten minutes.”

Clarke nods minutely, worries eased and apparently giving in. They’ve learned to trust Raven can practically make wine out of water and save all of their asses with that same wine. She’s never one to hold back on the truth and she wouldn’t say she could fix it if she couldn’t. He does, too, trust her, just — not his own luck, and it has him on edge.

“I’ll still need those samples,” Monty innocently announces, hands clasped behind his back as he turns to their captain with a hopeful look on his face.

With a sigh and his hands on his hips, he turns to their other pilot, examining more of ALIEs screening results. “Emori, how’s it looking?”

She tilts her head slightly, and it’s almost like there’s a flash of disappointment across her eyes before she reveals, “No sign of hostile life-forms.”

Bellamy clenches his jaw, thinking it over. Ten minutes. They’re here anyway. Might as well collect some specimen just in case they discover the cure to cytostatics-resistant hyperradiated cancer or something. “Fine,” he grits, reluctantly. “Just the samples and then we’re out of here.”

“I’ll come to guard,” Miller announces, patting the blazer pistol in his thigh holster. “In case ALIE’s raving and there’s feral polar bears or something.”

“Or something,” Bellamy says, skeptically, eye-roll implied. He knows him, and he knows he’s trying very hard to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. He knows because Miller rarely gets enthusiastic about anything , considering he’s too cool for that.

Harper puts her arm around Miller’s shoulder, squeezing and swaying them from side to side for a brief second. “I’m coming too.”

“I have some ideas for a flag—” Jasper starts, holding up a finger, and Bellamy physically cannot listen to him speculate about O-LAF and in what way he’s going to stake claim to the icy land surrounding them.

“You can all go, I don’t care,” he cuts him off with an authoritative tone to his voice, even if it’s too worn down by exhaustion to really pack a punch. “Just be back within the next ten minutes.”

There’s a few soft cheers and a few louder ones, and he swears to God, sometimes he feels like the only responsible adult amongst them. He shakes his head, shifting his head to look at Clark. “Can you believe these idiots?” He lets out an exasperated huff of air at the look on her face, her rounded eyes and pink lips rolled together. “You want to go too, don’t you?”

“Come on,” she teases, all innocence now gone from her face as she tugs on the hem of his shirt. “It’s snow. You used to know how to have fun.”

His face remains blank. If that’s her only argument, it’s not very convincing. “Low blow, Griffin.”

“Funny coming from you, considering it’s all you ever you to tell me.” She steps back from him, raising her eyebrows as she imitates him, an over exaggeratedly deep tone to her voice, “ You’re no fun, Clarke. You always have to be so serious, princess. Clarke, you never —”

“Are you through?” His eyebrows shoot up, unimpressed look on his face. Of course he’ll come with her. Like he’d let her go by herself. She should know this by now. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Clarke — “ Doc !” — catches the jacket Harper throws her as she passes the control room on her way to the entrance hatch, and starts to put the blue, glimmering garment on. “You can change your mind all you want, I’m going outside.”

“Of course you are,” he sighs, scrubbing his face tiredly with one of his palms. It’s not like he’s scared of cold, or snow, or even an abominable snowman. Besides, Clarke can take care of herself. Sometimes she’s better at taking care of herself than him. It’s just that ever since — he’s just stupidly, erratically scared . Not of anything in particular, just something. Imminent doom lingering in the back of his mind every time they’re in separate rooms.

See, he doesn’t care if he makes a mistake and he screws up his own life. And at least Clarke is an independent adult who makes her own decisions and could survive it if he messes up. He just cannot live with the fact it might be his fault if something happens to him, her or to be further specified in the future.

It’s a little — just a tiny bit — pathetic, which is the only reason why he hasn’t talked to her about it. Even though he’s pretty sure she’s got him all figured out.

“It’ll be fine,” Clarke reminds him, sliding her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. Her fingers dig in lightly, a laugh in her voice. “It’s just a little snow.”

He exhales loudly, taking the knitted cap she’s pulling from one of her pockets and pulling it over her hair himself. He smooths it out with both hands, letting them slide down to palm her cheeks. The corners of his mouth turn up weakly. “You heard them, their might be polar bears.”

Her fingers wrap around his wrists, cynical tone to her voice. “I’m sure you’ll protect us.”

One of his hands drops down, resting over her lower belly. There’s not much to feel yet, especially not covered by the thick layers of synthetic insulation, just a small bump that really only the two of them know is there.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Clarke groans, pulling his other hand off her face to connect their fingers. She nudges her head. “Come on, let’s find you a jacket.”

Begrudgingly, he follows her toward the equipment room, and it’s a mere thirty seconds before she’s dragging him down the steep ramp leading outside, loud crispy sounds under his boots every time they slam down into the ground. The air is frosty, raw to his skin, and the snow is up to his ankles.

To his credit, Monty is actually squatted down a few hundred metres ahead, shovelling snow into differently colored lab tubes while Miller holds them in his arms dutifully, not even blinking each time he adds another one on top of the pile. But, up ahead, Jasper is using one of their kitchen trays to sled down a small hill while Harper just watches; arms crossed over her chest, hip slightly jutted out, shaking her head, and refusing to flinch when he nearly flies off it. Off to their left, Shaw and Emori construct a snowman with their mitten-covered hands. They instructed Murphy to go find ‘ something ’ that could resemble a nose, but as far as they can see there’s just snow, not a plant or rock in sight. He almost feels sorry for the guy.

Clarke holds out her hands, trying to catch the snowflakes. When it doesn’t prove a very effective strategy, she crouches down, dipping her hands into the snow only to let it filter through her fingers and back onto the ground. Her nose is a little red and the smile on her face is definitely worth it, he decides.

Monty holds open a cooler bag so Miller can drop all the tubes in it, zipping it up as they cross the distance to the two of them. He shoulders it higher, nodding at his captain. “I got what I needed.”

“Great,” Bellamy concludes, self-righteous tone to his voice. They all saw the snow, he got to see Clarke’s smile, they’re all settled. “Then we can leave.”

“Just five more minutes,” Emori pipes up, reaching up to flick a snowflake out of her eyelashes. “We’re almost —”

Jasper slides past her, crashing right through her snowman. He rises to his feet slowly, wiping the snow off his ass before taking off his goggles to assess the damage with an “ oops ”.

“Done,” Shaw fills in, deadpanning as they both stare at their now flat creation, the female pilot’s hand still frozen in the air with a clump of snow in it. As if on cue, Murphy finally returns with a a small branch he got from God knows where, proceeds to see what’s left of the snowman, and tosses it onto the ground with overbearing frustration.

“Urgh!” Emori cups her hands together around a heap of snow, forming a small ball which she aims at Jasper’s neck. It explodes onto his chest, seeping into the inside of his coat. Instead of being angry, he laughs, loudly, shaking out his torso by plucky his jacket off his body.

For some reason, Bellamy knows exactly where this is leading even before he opens his mouth, throwing in a pre-emptive eye roll just because. “Snowball fight!” Jasper announces predictably, dunking a handful of snow on top of Harper.

The blonde shudders at the slush running down the back of her neck. “Oh, it’s on .”

No, he thinks, absolutely not. Bellamy just wants to go inside and get away from here. He’s being paranoid, he knows he is. Of course Raven is going to fix their ship. They won’t be stranded here forever. Yet his skin crawls with the possibility of it. It doesn’t look like there’s many sources of food anywhere near them, and they don’t even know if the water is drinkable. How would they survive? He doesn’t much care about himself, but what about Clarke and his friends and the baby? He knows he’s spiraling, and he can’t stop it. He’s on edge, and he knows it turns him into an insufferable asshole, and yet he can’t stop that either. He’s so self-reflective, if only he could do anything to fix it.

So he stands there, arms crossed over his chest, seething as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. “Oh fuck yes,” Miller pulling his arm back behind his head to aim his next hit at Murphy, snowflakes covering his beanie and stuck in his eyebrows. “Been waiting for this for months. ”

It’s just beyond him how they don’t seem to get it. Bellamy grumbles, “We’re stuck on a planet in the middle of nowhere with no ways of contacting our base and you guys want to screw around and play with sno—” As if on cue, a snowball hits him straight in the face cutting him off.

Jasper has the nerve to look sheepish, sending him a cheeky grin as Bellamy wipes the leftover snow off his face. Okay, he takes a calming breath, rolling his shoulders to get rid of the chill running down his back, o-fucking-kay. His wife, of all people, is laughing the loudest out of everyone. So he makes sure that, after he dunks Jasper headfirst into a bank of snow, he marches up to her, threateningly.

He narrows his eyes. “I thought you were tired.”

“That was before I just saw the look on your face,” she answers matter-of-factly, not an ounce of the fear of retaliation on her face. “ Now I want to severely beat you in a snowball fight.”

He’s glad she thinks it’s funny, because he’s all out of laughs. He’s only half-teasing when he says, “What happened to you?” He’s not kidding when he says she used to be the serious one — always working or worrying about something. He used to have to tell her to dial it down a notch, and now she’s practically jumping at the chance to screw around. He just hopes it’s not the Great Shape-Shifter Fiasco of 2151 all over again.

“I’m happy, Bellamy!” She bursts out, laughing lowly under her breath, absolutely baffled by his insistence of being so gloomy. “For the first time in a long while, we have it good . Our job is to travel the universe, surrounded by our friends and I can finally keep my breakfasts down again. Look at this place!” She makes a show of checking out their surrounding, an excited urgency to her tone. She deflates a little at the absolutely terrified look on his face, softening her voice impossibly as she takes a step closer to him. The snow is thicker there than expected, and he has to reach out to grab her elbows to steady her. “We’re doing good .”

She’s right, and it sucks but maybe he should stop holding his breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tilts his head, and she leans up for a quick kiss, arms around his middle. Delicately, she presses, nothing but adoration on her face, “ Please have some faith.”

Bellamy’s already given in, but he can’t help but pretend he hasn’t. “I really don’t know what happened to my wife.”

“This insufferable, incredibly arrogant ass kept telling me that as long as we were breathing there was hope,” she counters dryly, squeezing his waist once more as she blinks up at him, challenge in her eyes. Her smug grin grows and grows at the look on his face. “Guess it kind of stuck.”

She has him right where she wants him now. He can’t stand her. He sighs, signaling over the others with a wave of his arm. Instead of outright saying he wants to have a snowball fight, he takes the easy way out. “Let’s split into two teams.”

“I call dibs on team captain!” Raven yells over from by the hatch, hands cupped around her mouth as she hobbles down the ramp. It must mean she fixed the alternator, which means they’ll get home no matter what. Happy holidays. “My picks are Clarke, Emori, Harper, Shaw, and Miller.”

Great. Him, the uncoordinated wonder twins and somebody who looks like a walking corpse. “That’s not even a fair divide.”

“I wasn’t aware we had rules,” Raven snarks back loudly, pompous look on her face. Shaw is waiting for her at the end of the hatch, offering her a piggyback ride over the unsteady land to the rest of them. (One of their missions. An avalanche of asteroids. Her leg never recovered.)

“Yeah, I thought status quo around here was whatever the hell we want?” Clarke adds, saccharine sweet, and God , does he want to wipe that smirk off her face.

“We’ll never win like this!” Jasper protests from by his pile of ready-to-go snowballs, practically stomping his foot.

“Not with that attitude you won’t no,” Clarke retaliates, moving an icy globe from one hand to another, as if casually showing off her skills.

As soon as Raven hops off Shaw’s back, he starts, “Ready, set… Three, two…”

“Seven!” Harper shouts, throwing the first snowball to their side with a delirious kind of evil laughter. Bellamy dodges it just in time, hurrying to make his own. Maybe he’ll have to sacrifice one half of Dude, Where’s My Spaceship? , but there’s no way his team isn’t taking this one home.

By all means, Bellamy had a family. Him and his sister, they took on the whole world together. But part of the deal was that, eventually, she would grow up and use all the tools he gave her to be her own person. She would always be his family, always have a place with him, but they’re not as close anymore as they used to be. It used to hurt, but now he knows it’s the natural way of life and he’s made his peace with it. Family is not something you get to pick.

Along came Clarke, and it took them a while, but now they’re a unit, and someday very soon there’ll be even more proof of that out there in the universe. He never chose her, not consciously, she was just very hard to deny. So stubborn, that woman.

And these people, his friends, they’re not the family he chose either. Life brought them together and they kind of just crept up on him, one by one. Even Murphy. It’s a family he found, or found him, and one he’s going to keep around.

Like this new holiday tradition, for example. It's kind of fun. A snowball fight around Meizenbranahoud? Seems like something he can manage. Maybe without all the life-endangering crashing and AI-failing next time around, but hell, maybe it was half of the fun anyway.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellamy x clarke #bellarke fic #my fic #safeandsound13

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