#clan nightblood housing

[clan-nightblood]

Once upon a time, Nightblood Manor was a small spot of land overlooking the bay...

Decoration by Tisiphone Nightblood with help from a Friend

[stomp-that-ho-regard]

I saw one of your old posts about C/lexa shippers latching onto Yasha and BOY IS IT TRUE. Looking back Lexa had very little personality besides ruthless leader but fandom!Lexa was secretly soft and loved candles and flowers. It feels like fandom just latched onto her as a new chance at Lexa and didn't care that she was essentially just a different shell with some equally problematic cultural appropriation.

Slow your roll there, anon. We do not shit-talk Lexa in this house. 

While I do agree with you that fanon Lexa was indeed softer than canon Lexa, she did have soft moments in the show. Did fandom take that idea and exaggerate it? Absolutely, yes. But they didn’t pull it out of their asses. Which is NOT the case with the Yasha situation.

Also, can we (by ‘we’ I mean fandom in general) please learn the difference between ‘no personality’ and stoicism? 

Something that’s always pissed me off is how stoic male characters are consistently lauded and fawned over, and stoic female characters (which are already rare) are described as ‘having no personality’ or ‘having one facial expression’. Which simply isn’t true in most cases, and certainly isn’t in this one. ADC played Lexa beautifully and showcased plenty of emotion while staying true to Lexa’s grim and strict warrior upbringing. I really think that in anyone else’s hands, the character would’ve either completely fallen flat, or would’ve been so overacted that it became theatrical and cringey.

Lexa was stoic, pragmatic, and a leader. Yasha was none of those things, which is why I was confused by the comparisons. She was socially awkward and... that’s it. Which was clearly meant to be a charming trait, but didn’t really land with people who didn’t already have Yasha tunnel vision. And it didn’t land because it didn’t stem from Yasha’s backstory, it stemmed from Ashley. She’s awkward and goofy and in turn it seeps into her RP, even when it makes no sense for the character.

Maybe some people did see her as ‘a new chance at Lexa’, but that’s hard for me believe considering that the obsession started the second her official art was released. At that time, we still didn’t know much about Yasha. Same with all of the characters. They were literally just going off of her introduction and a portrait.

On The 1/00, we learned about Lexa’s view of the world and of herself. The pain she was still feeling from Costia’s death. How she trained the Nightbloods, and was essentially a mother figure for them. That despite her being capable of ruthlessness, she truly wanted peace for her people, and was trying her hardest to get the clans to quit warring with each other by forming The Coalition. For the extremely short amount of time we had her (just 16 episodes), we were given a whole fucking feast of a character. There’s a reason the Guest Star™ outshined the mains. (In addition to that, she just happened to be god damned beautiful too.)

Yasha however, largely remained an enigma for the better part of a 141 episode campaign. So I can’t agree with you about Yasha being ‘essentially just a different shell’ of Lexa. Unlike Lexa, the main reason people fell for Yasha was her looks, because they literally didn’t have much else to fall for.

These are two wildly different characters with two wildly different fan situations.

So no more comparisons, please and thank you.

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [52]

vii. gimme shelter

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.0k

Warnings: a few mentions of blood, fighting, violence, reference to past assualt/Shumway, angst, mentions of death. 

Summary: you arrive on Becca’s Island, and reunions are had, exploring is done. as you and Clarke wind down from your long journey, a break in occurs, creating chaos within the mansion.

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

March 20th, 2150; Becca’s Island

As soon as the boat reaches the shoreline, Roan volunteers to stay behind with Miller and unload the fuel, so that Jackson can lead you to your mother. You and Clarke agree with the plan, looking forward to seeing her for the first time in a few days. Though, with the events of the last few days, it has felt more like lifetimes. Jackson leads you from the shoreline through a densely wooded path, keeping up light conversation the entire time, before ushering the two of you into a lab unlike anything you could ever have imagined. “This is Becca's main research lab, but there are 5 other levels.”

You look around in awe, at the dozens of screens and computers, all types of equipment, chemicals, tubes, and beakers, all brightly lit and situated at the bottom of a flight of stairs. As Jackson leads you to the railing alongside the stairs, giving you a view of everything, your mouth drops open in shock, and Clarke whispers, “Incredible.”

The word carries through the room, reaching a figure who is standing at one of the computer screens, staring at whatever is displayed there. They turn around at the sound of Clarke’s voice, your mother, grinning up at both of you. You and Clarke smile back, and Clarke leads the way down the stairs. Your mom pulls both of you into a hug as soon as you’re close enough. Up above, Jackson makes an excuse about checking on Luna, giving the three of you the privacy to catch up. 

When she pulls away from you, her eyes fall to your shirt first, still covered in Seiku’s blood. You got most of his blood off you with the water from the ocean, but it has stained your shirt, ruining it beyond repair. Her eyes widen in alarm, and you can see her already searching for wounds, but you shake your head. “It’s not mine. It was Seiku’s, one of Roan’s guards who saved both of our lives.”

She sags in relief, before looking between the two of you, a small smile on her face. “Then I’m grateful to him.”

She looks around, realizing that no one else has followed, before asking, “Speaking of, where is Roan?”

“Unloading the fuel with the others.” Clarke looks at your mom, her expression dropping as the weight of the day’s events start to weigh on her. “We just needed to see our mom.”

Your mom pulls you both in for another hug, offering you the kind of comfort that could only ever come from someone who raised you. You smile, drawing in the comfort, until your eyes fall on the screen behind her, the one she was staring at when you came in. It’s a scan of a brain, and you pull away, booking at it in confusion. “What is that?”

Your mom glances back at it, her face falling. “A scan of Raven’s brain. She’s been having seizures, and she just had another one right after she heard the news about the fuel.”

The news tugs at something in your brain, taking you back to Niylah's trading post in the middle of a war with an AI. Sinclair stop, the EMP will give me brain damage! You feel a wave of nausea knowing that you contributed to this. In a misguided attempt to save her, you ruined your friend’s brain, the thing she values the most. Clarke pulls you out of your head when she points at a gray spot on the brain scan, “Is that-”

Your mom cuts her off, “An ischemic stroke.”

Clarke looks slightly hopeful, “Well, that means it can heal, right?”

“Yes, as long as she takes it easy, she'll recover.”

A realization hits you like a freight train. You used the EMP on your mom too. You look at her, eyeing her closely, “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine.”

She smiles and then walks away, but you and Clarke aren't so easily convinced. “When was the last time you slept?”

She doesn't look at Clarke when she answers her question, just peers into a microscope at a sample pressed between the plates. “Oh, I'll sleep soon enough, one way or another.”

“What is that?”

“It's bone marrow. Luna's. A theory that Jackson and I agreed should remain untested.”

You shake your head, not understanding. “What theory?”

“We can't create Nightblood unless we go to space, but Luna can. Theoretically, we can inject ourselves with her bone marrow.”

Just like Mount Weather. You shudder, thinking of the mountain from hell, but no one seems to notice, too wrapped up in the theory. “Then we become Nightbloods. Will it work?”

“I think so.”

Your confusion persists, “Then why'd you take it off the table?”

“Because the only way to know if it works is to test it, and that would mean…”

Clarke answers her first, understanding instantly. “Exposing someone to radiation.”

You think that’s the end of the conversation, but then Clarke adds, “Can we do that here?”

“Yes. Becca was trying to find a cure for cancer using this radiation chamber.” Your mom nods her head at the well lit chamber behind her. “But, we would have to expose a human being to enough radiation that would implode every single cell in their body. That's what's coming for us.”

Clarke nods her head, understanding, but you shake yours, not liking this discussion. Your twin argues, “I know that, but we have no choice.”

Your mom shakes her head, “No, we have to make a choice.”

You nod your head, this time understanding the choice before Clarke does. “Which is: Who do we test?”

The conversation is cut short by Jackson calling out, “Emori, hey.”

You all turn as if you've been caught doing something bad, looking up to the landing of the stairs to see Emori, Murphy's girlfriend, looking down at you. “I'm heading up to the house. Does anyone want anything while I'm up there?”

“No, we're fine, thanks.” But then your mom glances at you and Clarke and calls out, “Emori, hold on.”

She looks at both of you with a smile. “You should both go with her.”

You’re in no position to argue, exhausted from the day, and eager to get out of your bloody shirt. Clarke however, disagrees. “No, we just got here. I want to be here with you and help.”

“There is nothing for you to help me with right now. It'll be 5 hours before the samples are even ready to be tested.” Clarke sighs, knowing she can't argue with that news. “Go, take a shower, and we'll figure this out when you get back.”

She nods and you take her hand, practically dragging her up the stairs, eager to get inside and take a shower. Emori stands at the top, waiting for you, and as she leads you towards the door, Jackson calls out, “I'll lower the drones.”

Emori guides you through the dark woods easily, the path familiar to her, making casual conversation as she goes. “Raven says the black rain will be here soon.”

Clarke swings her flashlight off the path, towards your guide. “Raven's right. I used to love the rain, now it terrifies me.”

“I would have thought nothing terrified you.”

You and Clarke exchange a look, and Clarke asks, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I just...hate this island, that's all.”

You nod your head, understanding instantly what that’s like, considering your hatred for Mount Weather. Clarke, who has maintained more radio calls with your mother, continues the conversation. “Murphy said you used to work here. Is that right?”

“Something like that.”

“Scavenging tech for Alie?” Emori turns and gives Clarke a look, who instantly apologizes. “I'm sorry, too many questions.”

“Ignore me.” Emori’s gaze softens as she looks back at the two of you. “I'm just upset that our mission here has failed. Hopefully your mother will come up with another way, always so willing to do anything to save her people. Skaikru's lucky to have her.”

Clarke shakes her head. “We're not just doing this for Skaikru.”

Emori holds out an arm, stopping you from walking any further as you reach the edge of the treeline. She lifts her radio, “We're at the treeline, coming in.”

“Copy that, drones down. You're good to go.”

She leads you through the trees and into a large lawn that stretches out in front of the largest house that you've ever seen in your entire life. Not that you've seen many houses, but it seems larger than any picture of houses that you've looked at before. The lawn eventually reaches a patio, with a large pool, connected to a hot tub. You look at it in awe, marveling at the stone detailing around the edge. The patio is well let, surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges and marble stairs that lead up towards the back door. The back door itself is glass, along with the whole back window, allowing you a peek into the house. Emori slides the door open, letting the sound of loud music out of the house and to you. You step into a living room, surrounded by white furniture, which opens up right into the large kitchen. Inside the kitchen itself, Murphy dances from one counter to the next, cooking up something to eat. 

You and Clarke exchange amused expressions, and you smile a little, not used to this side of everyone's favorite cockroach. As you get closer, you joke, “You can cook?”

He hums in acknowledgment of your joke, nodding his head as he peers down at a cookbook laid out in front of him. Clarke adopts the same amused tone when she quips, “You can read?”

He looks up from the book, turning to smile at both of you. “Yeah, I know what you're thinking, Disaster Twins. Why are all the good ones taken, right?”

You snort and Clarke scoffs, both of you rolling your eyes at him, and Emori looks at her boyfriend in adoration. “A good randzi is rare. John would be celebrated by any clan.”

It takes you a second to remember that randzi means cook, but when you do, you roll your eyes all over again. “Yeah, he's a real catch.”

Murphy pulls a spoon out and dips it into the dish, holding it out towards you, hand cupped underneath, looking expectant. You eye it warily, a little distrustful, but the smell wafting towards you is good enough to make you want to take a bite. You lean down and take a tentative bite, chewing slowly, waiting for the taste of poison, only to be pleasantly surprised by the explosion of flavors on your tongue. You look at him in awe, “Oh, my God.”

Murphy smiles in an “aha” sort of way, pleased to have gotten that reaction out of you. He turns and tosses the spoon into the sink, and sweeps Emori into his arms, leaning down slightly so she can whisper in his ear. You and Clarke exchange an awkward look, feeling like you're intruding, before she mutters, “We’re gonna go get cleaned up.”

“Yeah, let me show you where to go.” Murphy starts to step away from Emori to lead you there, but she cuts him off, pointing you in the right direction. “Upstairs. Down the hall.”

“Thanks.”

Clarke leads the way around the corner, down the hall to the massive staircase. You and Clarke move through the house with your mouths slightly dropped in awe, and you wish with your entire being that Bellamy was here to experience this with you. When you reach the top of the stairs, Clarke picks two rooms side by side, and you both look at each other for a minute before stepping into your respective rooms. When you flip on the light switch, it automatically activates the stone fireplace lined along the wall, making the room warmer in seconds. You welcome it, allowing it to chase away the chill that always seems to be settled within you. 

In the middle of the room are two armchairs, a table between them, and you drop your pack onto the nearest chair before proceeding deeper into the room. Along the wall on your left are mirrors, and upon closer inspection you realize they have handles, indicating that they're hiding something. You tug on the handles and reveal a huge closet, clothes stretching from either end, stuffed full. When you close the door, smiling in awe, you come face to face with your reflection, and you’re shocked by what you see. 

You didn’t clean Seiku’s blood off you nearly as well as you think you did, and mud and blood are streaked from your forehead down onto the skin that eventually disappears beneath your clothes. You're sure that if you were standing here naked, the grime would cover you from head to foot. There’s a variety of things caked into your hair, making you look wild and untamed. Blood covers almost every inch of your shirt that isn't hidden beneath your jacket, and you can now see why everyone was looking at you in alarm. There’s a small nick on your neck, situated just above the chain of your necklace, from Echo threatening you, along with a bruise on your cheek from the man that helped her take you captive. 

You turn away from the mirror, no longer wanting to see yourself, ignoring the rest of the room as you make a beeline for the bathroom connected to the bedroom. As soon as you're inside, you stand and stare at the shower in shock, the shower itself nearly as big as the entire room you share with Bellamy, and you get another wave of regret that he's not here to see this. You dig around in the cabinets, looking for a towel, and as you do, you discover something rare and precious: bath products. Soap in the Ark is made from mostly recycled materials, and doesn't have a particularly nice smell. It doesn’t stink by any means, but it also doesn't smell like...you hold up the bottle in your hand, peering at the label on the body wash, before reading out loud, “Tropical sunset delight.”

The shampoo and conditioner you find are both labeled coconut hazelnut dream, and the lotion is called creamy vanilla surprise. You smile as you hoard all the products, bringing them into the shower with you, along with a brush. It takes a second for you to figure out the controls of the shower, as it's entirely technology based, but as soon as you do, hot water shoots out from at least four different locations. You turn the water as hot as it can go, the water at Arkadia never anything better than lukewarm. You take your time, using several handfuls of the body wash and several techniques to scrub your skin until it is practically raw. Once you're sure all the mud and blood is gone, you get started on your hair. It takes a while for you to work out the knots and debris tangled within your strands, but you finally do, marveling at the soft feel of it as you wash the conditioner out. 

After your shower, you dry off and moisturize, before pulling on your pants and grabbing the rest of your clothes and boots. You fold your shirt and socks and stuff them into your pack, before grabbing a couple of shirts you can layer and wear as your new shirt. You also find a sock drawer, overflowing with options, and you pick one pair to wear daily, along with a thick pair you can wear on cold nights. Then you turn, surveying the room again, eyes landing on the bed in the middle of the room. You walk over to it and press a tentative hand into the mattress, marveling at the plush softness that envelops you. 

You smile and climb into the bed, fully intending to sleep for at least a few hours. But as soon as you’re in bed and comfortable, you are annoyed to find that you just can't sleep. You toss and turn for a few minutes, trying to figure out why sleep evades you, when you suddenly make the connection. You’re alone. You've shared a bed with Bellamy the last few months, and sleeping alone is now so foreign to you that you’re struggling to do it without him by your side. With a sigh you pull yourself out of the bed and into the hall, heading straight for Clarke's room. She looks up at you right as you lift your hand to knock, already motioning you inside before you can even ask to come in. 

She's already in the bed, also freshly showered, but appearing to struggle with sleep, the same as you. You both sense the restlessness in each other, and she pats the bed, motioning for you to crawl in beside her. You do, turning to face her as soon as you’re comfortable, smiling at the pretty face of your twin. She smiles back at you, and you both lay in silence for a minute or two, until Clarke whispers, “Do you think I’m a good leader?”

You think of the memory you dreamed about last night, and you ask, “Do you remember when you convinced me to take your place so that I could see the Ark?”

“Yeah, and you only lasted three minutes before mom caught on?”

You mock glare at her, but confirm, “Yes.”

You pause for a minute, letting her relive the memory, before you add, “I’ve been following you my entire life. You’re a natural born leader, inherited from both of our parents, making you a hybrid, amplified leader. You’re strong, and you care about others, which I’ve known since you were willing to give up a field trip just so I could see the Ark.”

“But you’re my twin.”

“Pulling a lever to save our people. Three times. Continuously sacrificing yourself to save others, making the hard decisions when others don't want to, but also continuing to stay in touch with your empathetic side. You're a great leader, Clarke.”

She sighs and nods, accepting the compliments with thanks, and you start to read the undertone in her statement. As you watch your twin, her mind running though a million things at once, you realize that the real question is: when can someone else lead in my place? Clarke has led all of you from the moment she landed on the ground, but realistically, she was leading even before that, back when the two of you were kids. She led groups in school, tried to lead with your dad when he wanted to go public with the news of the dying Ark, led the delinquents the second you landed on the ground. She led Camp Jaha as the adults fought over who was in charge, and led an army of Grounders with Lexa. She led behind the scenes while Pike thought he was in charge, led the mission to find Luna, and the mission to kill Alie and the City of Light. She led Arkadia while your mom and Kane stayed behind, and the more you think of it, the more you think that her only break may have been the three months she spent on her own. But even then, she was burdened by the consequences of leadership. 

Clarke Griffin, Wanheda, your starry twin, is tired. Exhausted. It’s written in the lines of her face, the sag of her shoulders, the bags under her eyes. And though you know you’ll never be able to stop her from being a leader, you vow to take more of the burden off her shoulders from here on out. 

Clarke yawns, confirming your suspicions, and you smile at her. “Get some sleep.”

She nods, and closes her eyes, and you watch her for a second as the stress starts to melt off of her, second by second. Satisfied that she's actually going to sleep, you close your eyes and follow suit, only for your eyes to fly open at the sound of clattering down the hall. The sound wakes Clarke too, both of you exchanging an annoyed look before getting out of bed. On the way to the door, your twin grabs her pistol from her pack, and you glare at her. “Where was that when Roan's guards tried to kill us?”

She shrugs, looking a little apologetic. “In my pack. In the rover.”

You give her an annoyed look, before following her down the hall as she creeps towards the sound. As it grows louder, she calls out, “Murphy? Murphy, is that you?”

The sound grows louder as you approach a door at the end of the hall, and you put your hand on Clarke's shoulder, letting her know you're still with her, as you follow her into the room. She flips on the light, revealing blinds on the other end of the room, that seem to move everytime the wind blows. You and Clarke move closer, and when you lift the blinds up, you see a hole in the window, red blood smeared around the edges, indicating someone smashed their way through and let themselves in. You hear a small sound behind you, and you and Clarke spin quickly, her gun lifted and ready to shoot.

Murphy stands in the doorway, and at the sight of the weapon, he lifts his hands in surrender, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, take it easy! Look, we need to talk.”

Clarke shushes him, “Quiet. There's someone here.”

He looks at both of you in alarm, and Clarke opens her mouth to relay a plan, but she is cut off by the sound of Emori yelling from downstairs, “John! John! John!”

Murphy rushes out of the room first, and you and Clarke scramble behind him, following him closely as he practically flies down the stairs and around the corner into the kitchen. There a man stands, trying to plunge a kitchen knife into Emori's neck, who is using every bit of strength she has to keep him from killing her. Murphy grabs the nearest weapon he can find, a cutting board, and whacks the man across the face, knocking him away from his girlfriend. Emori scrambles backwards on the floor towards you, and Clarke reaches out for her, “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

But Emori ignores the question, her eyes focused only on Murphy as he goes to deliver a killing blow, “Wait! He's mine.”

Emori tries to run at the man and attack him, but Murphy holds her back, despite her struggles. “Get off of me! If we don't kill him now, he will kill us.”

You give her a confused look. “You know him?”

Emori practically spits out the name, “Baylis.”

The name must mean something to Murphy, or he must know Emori’s story, because he stills, no longer holding her back as much as he was before. The man on the ground, Baylis, looks at Emori with a sneer. “She's lying, you don't know me.”

Emori tries to leap at the man again, and Murphy does his best to hold her back as she yells, “You said you'd kill me! Well, guess what, planhaka, I'm gonna kill you.”

Baylis tries to stand, but Clarke lifts her gun towards him. “Hey, hey, hey, don't move.”

“Just let me go. I'll leave the food, and you never have to see me again.”

You turn to Emori, “Is he alone?”

“Not usually. Where are the others?” 

Murphy releases her, allowing her to walk closer to the man, glaring down at him as he replies, “I don't know who the hell you think-”

She cuts him off with a swift kick to the head, knocking him out, and as his body hits the ground, she continues to kick him. Clarke, growing anxious, yells out, “Emori!”

She spins around, blood dripping from a cut on her head, running into her mouth and covering her teeth. She gives your twin a bloody sneer. “You don't know what he did to me.”

“No, and you can tell me about it, but please, Emori, if he's not alone, we need to know now.” Clarke turns to Murphy, passing him her gun, “Here, Murphy, take my gun. Now tie him up.”

She looks at you, silently asking if you’ll stay with Murphy and the prisoner, and you nod in agreement. Her eyes move back to the injured woman, “There's a medicine cabinet upstairs, can I fix this?”

Emori hesitates, looking back at the knocked out man on the floor, but Clarke reassures her, “They won't let him go anywhere. Will you?”

Murphy shakes his head as he walks by them, moving to the appliances to yank out their cords for binds. “Not a chance, we're gonna have some fun.”

“Fine, tie him up. But when he's done talking, the kill is mine.”

Murphy tosses you one of the cords, and you help him tie the man's hands and feet together, restraining him. And then Murphy drags over a chair, and the two of you lift the man's unconscious body into it before using more cords to secure him to the chair. Once you're done, you move away from the man, hopping up onto the counter to watch from there. Murphy circles him like a hawk, waiting for him to wake up, and finally Baylis groans, indicating that he’s coming to. It takes him a few seconds to gather his bearings and remember where he is, but as soon as he does, he starts to wiggle in the chair, trying to loosen his restraints. He does that for a few minutes, unsuccessfully, and when he realizes your bonds are too strong, he resorts to begging. “I only came here for the food, things I can trade. I scavenge so my family can eat. Please.”

Murphy laughs, not buying it. “That's it, find the right angle. I'll help you out. I love someone who was beaten and tortured by a man who thought he could control her.” 

Your eyes widen, understanding that he means Emori. You feel a rush of hatred for the man and what he did to her, reminding you of what Shumway did to you.

“I'm not that man. You can torture me all you want, and that won't change the fact-”

He is once again cut off by a blow from Emori, who has appeared seemingly out of nowhere, now cleaned and stitched up. “For my brother.”

She hits him again, “For me!”

She lifts her hand again ready for another blow, but Clarke yells out, “Wait.”

Emori spins towards her, looking absolutely livid. “What?”

“You'll kill him.”

“That's the idea.”

Murphy steps up in defense of his girlfriend. “Why don't you stay out of it and let her have this, Clarke?”

Clarke turns to look at you, her expression serious, before she turns back to Emori. “What if his death could save us all?”

Emori freezes, immediately looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“Without a way to go to space to make Nightblood, there's a chance we could make it out of Luna’s bone marrow. But the only way we’d know if it worked, is if we exposed him to the same amount of radiation that the death wave will bring. If he lives, and we know it worked, you can still have the final kill.”

“And if it fails?”

“He’ll die from radiation.”

Emori seems to consider this, looking to Murphy for guidance, who gives her a slight nod. Emori turns back to Clarke, giving her stamp of approval. “Looks like you got yourself a test subject.”

-

With Emori’s agreement to Clarke’s suggestion, she radioes over to the lab and shares the message. A few minutes later, Miller and Roan come to the house for Baylis, knocking him out to make the transport easier. You all follow them back to the lab, watching on as your mother starts to prepare him for experimentation. When she sees Baylis brought in, you see a flash of opposition cross her face, before she seems to quickly tuck it away in favor of a more neutral expression. When she sees you walk in, she nods towards the glass office on the second floor. “Kane is on the radio and he’s asking for you.”

Your brows pull together, wondering why, but you don't ask, just head up the stairs and into the office, plopping down at the desk and reaching for the radio. “Kane, do you read me?”

Kane’s voice comes through a second later, sounding tired. “I read you.”

“My mom said you asked for me?”

“The black rain's here, and it's worse than we thought. It burns on contact...it kills.” You hear him sigh, before continuing, “We were outside when it started, had teams outside the wall scavenging for supplies. Some got stuck, straight out in the open, no cover, no help. Two of them, Mark and his son Peter, asked to be rescued. Bellamy went after them in a broken suit, tried to get to them, but failed. The rover got stuck, and with the bad suit, he has no way to get the rover free again. He’s taking it pretty hard, and I tried to help, but I think I just made things worse. I was hoping you’d talk to him, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Of course. What channel?”

“Four.”

“Copy that. Switching over.”

You fiddle with the radio, switching it to channel four, before asking, “Bellamy? Are you there, can you hear me?”

His voice comes through a second later, whispering your name, his tone a cross between relief and sadness. “Did Kane call you? Because I’m fine.”

But you can hear the emotion in his voice as he tries to convince you, unsuccessfully, that he’s fine. You push past his insistence and ask, “What happened, Bellamy?”

The radio clicks on, and you hear the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the rover, followed by the rumble of thunder. And underneath all that, you hear a quiet sob, choked and broken. “Do you remember Peter? He was part of the 100.”

“I think you were closer to him than I was, but yes I remember him.”

“Him and his dad got caught in the black rain. It’s coming down pretty hard, and it burns the second it touches your skin. They went for shelter the best they could, but it wasn't much. I grabbed a suit and tried to get to them, but the suit was damaged in the fire, cracked in a million different places. It was useless. Then the rover got stuck along the way, and without the suit, I won't survive the trip outside to get it unstuck.”

He takes in a shaky breath, and you know the next part is going to be hard to hear. “When I radioed Mark to tell him I couldn't make it, he lost it. Reminding me that I promised I’d come save them, and now I’m going back on that and killing them both. He stayed on the radio for a long time, and I could…”

Another sob breaks free from his chest, and tears spring to your eyes, hating how broken he sounds. You wish you were there with him, wrapping your arms around him, comforting him the way he comforted you. “I could hear them dying. The radio must have cut out after that, or he was too weak to press the button, because it’s been silent ever since.”

“Bellamy, I know you’re hurting, but this isn't your fault.”

“Mark’s right. I made them a promise and I went back on that. It’s my fault they're dead, because I failed to save them.”

“You didn't know the black rain was coming. You can't control the suit being broken or the rover getting stuck. This is not your fault.”

“Octavia left, did Kane tell you that?”

“No, he didn’t.”

He sighs, and you can hear another rumble of thunder in the background. “She was gone before I even made it back. My sister, my responsibility, and I failed to protect her too. I always fail. I’ve failed you, my sister, our people. I can't save anyone.”

“Do you know how many times you’ve saved my life? And what about all of the delinquents you saved before the Ark came down? What about our friends in Mount Weather? Clarke in Polis? You protected her so she could shut down the City of Light, which saved all of us from Alie. She couldn't have done that without your protection.”

He’s quiet, considering your words, and you add, “I know that every life we fail to save hurts us more than some of the lives we’ve taken. You’ve made mistakes, Bellamy, but this isn't one of them. You did everything you could to save Mark and Peter, and sometimes that’s all we can do, because these things lie in the lap of the gods. We can be prepared for every outcome, every scenario, and still fail. Learn from this, save who you can save today, but don't let this tear you apart. I still need you, and so does Octavia, Kane, our people. This fight isn't over yet.”

You can tell he takes your words to heart, as his sobs finally start to quiet. He’s silent for a few moments before he whispers, “I wish you were here with me.”

“I wish I was too.”

“Tell me about the stars, please.”

His voice breaks on the last word, and you think of which constellation to share with him today. “There’s a constellation in the sky called Lyra, the lyre. The lyre belonged to Orpheus, who played music so beautiful that the animals would listen, and people would stop whatever they were doing just to hear him play. He played most of these songs for his wife, Eurydice, whom he loved very much. One day, Eurydice died suddenly, and it broke Orpheus’ heart. He was determined to win her back from Hades, unable to live life without his love, and he set out on a journey to the Underworld. On his way down, he played his harp, and when he reached Hades he found that the god greatly enjoyed his music. Orpheus stopped playing, and Hades asked him to continue. Orpheus agreed on the condition that when he stopped playing for good, his wife would be returned to him. Hades accepted this condition, and Orpheus began to play again. When he was done, Hades informed Orpheus that he too had a condition, which is that Orpheus must leave the Underworld playing his harp, and he must trust that Hades has honored their agreement. Orpheus is not to turn around or look back to see if Eurydice is following. If he doubted and looked back, Eurydice would be taken back to the Underworld. Orpheus agreed to the conditions and played his music as he left, pleased that he could hear Eurydice’s footsteps behind him the entire time. Until Hades tried to test the young lover. He guided their return to the surface through a pine grove, which silenced Eurydice's footsteps. Orpheus endured the quiet as long as he could, until he no longer believed his wife was with him, and turned to look back, just in time to see her fade away. Orpheus returned to the surface alone and brokenhearted, and when he eventually died, Zeus put his lyre in the sky to commemorate their love.”

“I would go to the underworld to save you.”

You smile, knowing that he means it. Bellamy has already proven to you time and time again that he’s willing to go through hell just to save you. Your answer to him serves as a double meaning, one you hope he’ll take to heart. “Just as long as you don't look back.”

-

next chapter

[aristrawberry]

Why Shallow Valley is the Best Clan in The 100

Shallow Valley is the best grounder clan. We don’t see much of it but of what we see makes it better than the other 11 clans

The Color: This, for me at least, is very important. The other clans look ridiculous in their all black aesthetic. We see their village has all sorts of colors and the people there are wearing reds and browns. This might not be a big deal, but it makes them look happy, bright and pretty as opposed to the other grounders who look edgy and absurd in their all black

The clothes: We see the dead people in the valley wearing red and brown, casual clothing. We typically only see people in the other clans wear armor. The fact that the Shallow Valley people are wearing casual clothes implies that not all of them are warriors and they can relax and have fun, you know like real people.

Decorations: We see that the village has all sorts of decorations (These might be hard to describe so go to the gallery on the shallow valley wiki page if you want to see what I mean). We can see they have colorful cloth hung up and weaves wrapped around trees. In Clarke’s mind space we see bouquets of flowers in vases. This shows people there like care about making things pretty which makes them feel more like a real society.

Education: We also see books in Clarke’s mind space which means the people there were taught how to read and presumably write (since someone had to write the books). Which is saying something because I don’t think we ever see or get any sort of implication that the other grounders are taught how to read/write/any sort language or grammer (I could be wrong though). In Eden, we see young Madi successfully fish using a spear. Someone had to teach her how to spear-fish (I don’t believe that a kid that age would be able to pull that off without being taught). This shows children aren’t just being taught how to fight.

Tarik and Karina: In season 5 we meet Tarik and Karina who are from Shallow Valley and lived in the bunker for 6 years. They look to be in their late teens which means when they were tweens/preteens when they went into the bunker. We only see Skaikru prioritize children. Everyone else we see is an adult and a warrior. Even if Tarik and Karina are child warriors like Tris, Shallow Valley still saved their kids unlike the other clans.

Madi’s parents: Even though the other villagers probably didn’t know Madi was a nightblood, it says a lot about the people there that someone wasn’t willing to let a child fight to the death with other children. There are at least two responsible adults in Shallow Valley.

What they do for fun: In season 7, Madi talks about how she wasn’t allowed to play soccer with the other kids, when Clarke talks to Bellamy over the radio she mentions people had used paint to decorate, and again we see books in that one house. These all show that people did things for fun like painting and reading, and they didn’t just fight all the time.

All in all, Shallow Valley is the best clan because they have a culture and values outside of violence. Even if all the stuff I mentioned is just that one village, it brings the clans average up making it the best clan.

*I am excluding Luna’s people on the oil rig, because they are exceptionally cool unlike the 11 clans

[peggysousfan]

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.

[freedom-of-writing]

You’re all I want, all I need

Chapter 1 - I’m ready now

Chapter 2 - The 13th clan

Chapter 3 - Soulmates

Chapter 4 - Your enemy is our enemy

Chapter 5 - Costia

Chapter 6 - The calm before a storm

Chapter 7 - Hurts like hell

Chapter 8 - Shouldn’t be a good in goodbye

Chapter 9 - The Conclave

Chapter 10: The City of Light

Chapter 11: Swim Away From Reality

Apparently, there's a short path that goes from the back yard of the house to the lake, where there's a private pier that leads straight into the water. Clarke doesn't see any boats, so she guesses the pier is only meant to be a sort of springboard for those who want to jump into the lake. All around the lake there are tall trees, and the beauty of the landscape leaves her dumbstruck. She wishes she had a piece of paper and a charcoal to draw the beautiful image of the water reflecting all the trees and the sky.

"Worthy, right?" Lexa asks as she picks up a small plain rock from the path to throw it on the water, making it jump five times on its surface.

"It's beautiful." Clarke agrees.

The two of them stand still, side by side, for a few minutes. Neither one dares to break the silence as they take in all the beauty offered by that landscape. Lexa's attention gets caught by a fish jumping in and out of the water, and in an attempt to follow it, she moves onto the wooden pier. She doesn't need to look back to know Clarke is right behind her. Quickly, she gets rid of her armor and boots, stripping down to just her underwear. She leaves her clothes discarded on the floor before jogging towards the edge of the pier to jump headfirst into the water.

"What are you doing?" Clarke asks with a worried tone. It’s not Lexa’s safety she’s worried about, but her own. Because, she knows her girlfriend, and she’s afraid of what she might want her to do now.

"The water is perfect, Clarke. You have to come in." There it is. Ok, let's not panic.

"Lexa… I told you. I can't swim. I-"

"You don't have to swim. I promise. The water around the pier is shallow enough for you to stand easily." Lexa says, swimming back to the edge of the pier. "Trust me." She waits patiently for the Clarke's decision, and when she nods in agreement, she gives her girlfriend the brightest grin she can manage.

When all of Clarke's clothes minus her underwear are on the wooden floor as well, Lexa moves to a standing position in the water, holding out both of her hands for Clarke to grab to lower herself into the water. But as soon as Clarke sits down on the pier in front of her, Lexa gets another idea.  

“God, you're beautiful." She says as she brings her hands on Clarke’s waist, before pushing herself in-between Clarke’s legs.  

"I thought you wanted me to come into the water, Commander." Clarke freezes as soon as she realizes what she just said. The pun wasn’t intended, but Lexa didn’t miss it. The smirk appearing on her face, makes Clarkes shiver a bit.

"I bet you will, Wanheda." Lexa teases her immediately.

Clarke tries hard not to give in to temptation, but her mouth runs dry. She clears her throat quickly, before responding in a tone that matches Lexa’s.

"Is that so, Heda?" Suddenly, she doesn’t mind the idea of getting wet.

Lexa smirks at Clarke before leaning forward to capture her lips. It takes them about a second to turn the kiss into a heated make-out session. As they go, Clarke moves her legs to encircle her girlfriend’s waste, securing her to her body. Their hands start roaming over every inch of skin available, which is basically every single part of their bodies considering they’re just in their underwear. Lexa's hands come to a stop around Clarke ass, keeping the girl's center pressed again her stomach as Clarke’s hands move to cup her breasts through her bra.

They're not sure who moaned first, but as soon as the sound fills the silence, Lexa feels the need for more. Without breaking the kiss, she lifts Clarke into her arms backing away a little from the pier. Slowly, Clarke lowers her legs until she's standing in the water on her own feet. Now that they are on the same level, Lexa starts pushing Clarke, until her back is pressed against the pier. When at last, they have to part for some air, they keep their foreheads pressed together, and their eyes closed. Once Lexa can breathe properly again, she moves to attach her lips to Clarke's pulse point, then moving to pepper kisses along her jawline. Her hands roam up and down Clarke’s back, sending shivers down her spine, and causing her to arch her back. Lexa is so focused on exploring her girlfriend’s skin that she doesn't notice Clarke’s hand moving up to the hook of her bra. In a swift movement, Clarke unclasps Lexa’s bra with one hand, while with the other she plays with the hem of her girlfriend’s panties. When her mind realizes what is happening, Lexa moves her hips forward as an invitation. Clarke, of course, doesn't need to be asked twice before slipping her hand inside Lexa's panties, and drawing her middle finger through the woman's folds. They're in the water, but she can still feel how wet her girlfriend is already. She smirks at the idea, and then she starts circling Lexa’s clit with the tip of her finger, gaining a loud moan from Lexa. She can feel her own center throbbing, but she does her best to put her focus only on the other girl.

"Please... Clarke..." Lexa used to be the Commander, and Commanders don't plead, it’s true. But Clarke makes her feel so good she doesn't give a damn right now.

"Please what?" Clarke’s voice doesn't come out as strong as she hoped, because her own breathing is becoming shallow.

"Stop... Stop teasing..." Lexa can hardly whisper.

"As you wish, Heda." And with that she pushes two fingers into Lexa’s entrance, giving her a brief moment to adjust before starting to pump rhythmically inside of her.

Even in her state of pleasure, Lexa can feel how worked up Clarke is becoming as well, and she can no longer stand there doing nothing. She goes back to plant kisses on Clarke’s neck as she moves one hand down her abdomen till she reaches the hem of her panties. She doesn't wait for her girlfriend's invitation to slip her hand underneath her underwear to start working on her clit. Lexa can feel she's getting close, but she wants to give Clarke the same pleasure, so she pushes inside of her pumping fiercely in and out of her.

"Lexa..." Damn Clarke, stay focused on what you're doing, she mentally reprimands herself.

Lexa stops her mouth to lean back and look at Clarke. They stare at one another for a moment before closing the gap between each other in a hungry kiss. It doesn't take them long to come together, moaning loudly into each other's mouths. They keep pumping for a bit more to help the other come down from their high. Then they hold on tight onto each other, not trusting their legs to stand on their own. It takes them a couple of minutes to calm their breath.

Once Lexa is positive her voice won’t fail her, she asks jokingly: "Still don't like swimming?"

"Shut up." Clarke shakes her head, amused by how proud Lexa looks right now. Then she leans forwards to kiss her slowly.

"Ai hod yu in, Klark."

"I love you too."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No way! You did what?!" Lexa laughs as she holds Clarke close.

After their "swim" they moved back to the house, and had something for dinner. Once they were done eating, Lexa offered to go up to the roof to lie under the stars, to which Clarke agreed eagerly.

Clarke took advantage of the moment to fill Lexa in on everything that’s happened after her death, including the story of how she saved the Natblida’s lives during the Conclave. That brings us here to Lexa's reaction, because honestly, she would've given anything to see Titus's face when he realized Clarke had tricked him, and the kids were all still alive.

"They're just kids, Lexa. And they’re your family. Mine too. I can handle Titus hating me for the rest of my life if it means I managed not to lose them as well."

"Killing my friends... the kids I grew up with... That’s the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I'm glad you made sure they didn't have to go through all that as well. They're great kids, I'm sure there's so much they can give to our people when they grow older."

"Yeah. I mean, they had the best teacher Polis could offer, so..." Clarke jokes before adding in a serious tone: "They are who they are because you guided them, Lexa."

Lexa shakes her head. "No… They've always been great kids. My teachings and example have nothing to do with it." Clarke doesn't try to argue. She knows Lexa too well to know she's never going to admit her big part in bringing the Nightbloods up.

They stay silent for a few minutes as they gaze at the stars. After a while, a cool breeze blows over them, and Clarke shivers slightly. Of course, Lexa notices and she pulls her into her side to warm her up as best as she can. Instead of voicing her thank you, Clarke leaves a sweet kiss on Lexa’s collarbone, and then she hugs her tightly.

"I need you to promise me something." Lexa whispers slowly in Clarke's hair.

Clarke remains silent. She just moves her head up to look into her favorite green eyes. She sees Lexa worrying her mind to find the right words, so she goes to caress her cheek gently to encourage her to go on.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself." Lexa notices a confused look flashing in Clarke's eyes, so she explains herself better. "I won't ask you to protect the Natblida and Aden, because I'm sure you will. But I'm asking you not to put yourself in danger for them. I can't keep you safe now, Clarke. And I need to know you'll do it for me.” Lexa stops talking, but Clarke can tell there’s something else she’s still not saying. At her questioningly look, Lexa continues. “I need you to promise me that, when life gets hard, you won't give up just to be with me."

"You know I can't promise you that…" Clarke tries to look away, because she remembers what got her here, and she knows she can't promise to never give up on a life she has to live without Lexa by her side.

"Clarke..." Of course, Lexa knows she’s asking her a lot, but she still insists. "Can you at least promise me you'll do anything in your power to stay alive?" She gives Clarke her best begging look.

"Okay." Clarke finally gives up before leaning back down into Lexa's arms. "I promise."

They don't say anything else after that. They just stay there in each other’s arms, gazing at the stars, until they both fall asleep. And it doesn’t if none of this is real, because that’s the first time Clarke manages to have a full night of sleep ever since Lexa's death.

When the morning comes, they're woken up by a voice calling for Clarke. The sun has yet to rise, and they both look around to see whose voice it was.

Clarke.

Wait, no one else is there, who the hell-

Clarke! Honey, wake up! Come on!

“Is that… your mother?”

“But… how?”

It takes them a moment to realize the voice actually comes from the real world. Abby must have found Clarke asleep on the balcony. Although, they still do not understand how it is possible for them to hear her voice resonating in the City of Light.

"You have to go back now." Lexa states looking straight into Clarke’s eyes.

"What? No! I just got here. I... They can wait some more, Lexa, okay? Please. Let me stay here with you." Clarke's begging her as tears fill up her eyes. She’s on the verge of sobbing, and Lexa’s heart breaks at that sight.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Lexa waits a moment for Clarke to meet her eyes before continuing. "I'll be here when you come back, okay? I can wait, they can't. You have to be there for Aden on his first day as Heda, you have to go back to your mom and the kids, Clarke." She brings her hands up to caress her girlfriend’s cheeks before leaning in to kiss her lovingly.

Clarke closes her eyes as she kisses her back, but when she opens them again, she’s no longer in Lexa’s presence. She’s back in Polis, and it’s her mother who’s staring back at her with a worried look in her eyes. For a second Clarke doesn’t understand what’s happening, but then she remembers. The chip, the City of light, and… Lexa. It wasn’t a dream, it was real. She’d really seen Lexa again. Suddenly, the emotions overcome her, and she launches forward into her mother’s arms to cry into the crook of her neck. Abby doesn't ask for an explanation. She’s worried sick for her daughter, it’s true, and she would like to know what’s going on, but instead she just wraps her arms tightly around her daughter’s shoulders, holding her until she’s calmed down. 

Chapter 12 - Not Good Enough

[azhefa-moved]

ASOIAF/GoT & The 1OO crossover guide 

obviously this is just for fun and people can do whatever they want, but i figured i’d put this list together cause i felt like it. 

house stark: best translated into azgeda of course. war chiefs hold power and prominence within the clan, so it makes most sense that ned would have been a war chief, giving him and anyone related to him a place of ‘nobility.’ i think of the war chiefs as essentially lords, so this esp makes sense. 

house martell: best works a faction within sangeda 

house lannister: would be great within boudalan, the name translating to ‘rock line.’ headcanoned to the south around florida area, living near the beaches, the villages along rocky plateaus. 

house tully: probably fits best with podakru, which translates to ‘lake people.’ 

house baratheon: makes most sense as ouskejon, which translates to blue cliff. they are a mountains tribe which resides to the south of azgeda and are their allies. 

house tyrell: best within delfi, has no translation as it is best guessed to be within the remnants of philidelphia. they live in the ruins of the city, bridges built in to connect towers together. their villages are literally within the sky. 

house greyjoy: a faction within northern azgeda, residing on islands in lake erie which is near the capitol of azgeda. 

house arryn: a tribe residing within ouskejon, or within trishana, translating to glowing forest. they are near trikru and are their allies.  

house targaryen: best work within trikru, given trikru is home to the coalition capitol, polis. if one wants to really keep with the theme of the targaryens in asoiaf,  would make most sense for a family within trikru who inbred to keep a line of nightblood going. they would have been dedicated to putting their family in the running for commanders as much as possible. however, i don’t know how much the fleimkepas would have allowed this. could work that they were wiped out from either, so many of them going into conclaves, or it being seen as blasphemy and a perversion of the faith so they were forced to stop, maybe even killed. 

dothraki: this brings me to the dothraki, which would make most sense as being ingranrona, translated to plains riders. they are the furthest out from the rest of the coalition, they breed horses and are known to have the best ones to trade for. a lot of the culture of the dothraki wouldn’t be the same though because the clans are all matriarchal (thank god) and poor treatment of women aint a thing here.  

all those who were of nobility, would best be translated as village chiefs, clan chiefs, or war chiefs! i don’t think any other clans have a monarchy besides azgeda, just given the way they’re talked about. trikru, trishana, and louwoda kliron certainly can’t. but if ya really want your muse to be prince/princess or something then go for it with the other clans cause it’s free game headcanon wise. anyway, here’s my two cents! ♡

[bombshellsandbluebells]

First Impressions

Summary: John Murphy comes back to Arkadia with an unfamiliar grounder woman. The Arkadians and former delinquents react. 

(Or: Memori seen from different points of view. Takes places between 4x03 and 4x04.)

Ship: Emori/John Murphy

Other Characters: Abby Griffin, Thelonious Jaha, Harper McIntyre, Clarke Griffin, Niylah, Raven Reyes, Nathan Miller

* Trigedasleng translations at the end. * For those waiting on the next chapter of First Do No Harm, it is nearly finished and will be out soon! Have this in the meantime! 

Request by @daisytachi​ - hope this is what you wanted!

(read on Ao3)

Harper

Harper’s on guard duty at the front gate when John Murphy returns to camp with an unfamiliar grounder woman in tow. The adult guard stationed with her had only just left for a quick bathroom break, and Harper had naively thought nothing of interest would happen while she was out.

Murphy looks confident and smug. His mouth is twisted up in a shit-eating grin and his hands rest casually in the pockets of his jacket. He strolls up to the gate like he expects entry, and it makes her blood boil. The last time she saw him, he’d held Jasper captive at gunpoint and tried to hang Bellamy.

He killed two people.

He shot Raven.

She has her gun raised and aimed before she even realizes she’s moved. At least that throws him off. The grin vanishes, and he frantically throws his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Murphy yells, waving his hands wildly. “Harper! Don’t shoot!” The grounder with him halts, watching her with wide and wary eyes. Her hand creeps towards her belt, and Harper can just barely make out the shape of a knife hidden amongst all the folds of clothing.

“What are you doing here, Murphy?” Harper asks harshly. She keeps her gun pointed on him. Her aim has gotten pretty good since Mt. Weather – she knows she won’t miss if she shoots.

“Haven’t you heard I’ve been pardoned?” Murphy asks. The grin creeps back on his face, and that more than anything almost makes her pull the trigger. What a cocky asshole. He notices her shift and drops the smile. “Look, I’m serious. I’ve been pardoned. Check with Bellamy.”

“Bellamy’s not here,” Harper argues. She reminds herself to watch the grounder as much as Murphy. Murphy’s a threat, sure – but he can’t fight worth a damn, and Harper knows she has the upper hand with her gun pointed at him.

But she’s seen grounders fight enough to be wary of them, and the woman is eerily silent. She could easily sneak up on her while she’s distracted with Murphy.

“Okay, then,” Murphy says with an exaggerated sigh, “check with Clarke. Or Abby. Both of them will vouch for me.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” she says, sardonically, and her finger shifts again on the trigger.

Murphy pales. The grounder tenses – like a jungle cat, coiled tight, ready to spring forward.

A hand lands on the barrel of Harper’s gun and gently, but firmly, pushes it towards the ground. When she glances up in shock, she sees Jackson standing over her. His face is as kind as always, but his features are tighter than usual, around his eyes and mouth, and she knows it isn’t lost on him how ugly this moment could have become.

“it’s okay,” he assures her. “He’s fine.” He turns and nods at Murphy. Harper watches in shock as Murphy nods back – almost politely. “Glad to see you came back. We thought you ran after everything that happened.”

“No, just went to get Emori.” Murphy gestures towards the girl with him – who has barely looked away from Harper at all, even now that the gun is lowered. “I need to talk with Abby.”

Jackson nods. “Yeah, sure.”

Harper can do nothing but watch in shock as the two follow Jackson into the camp, her gun still pointed towards the ground and feeling useless in her hands. The grounder – Emori – watches her carefully as she passes, and for a moment they lock eyes. The hair on the back of Harper’s neck stands up. Emori has eyes like a cornered animal, filled with a fear and wariness that promises violence – she looks scared and vicious all at once, and Harper remembers the knife in her clothes. This woman is a treat, her instincts scream, and she desperately wants to call Jackson back to let him know.

After all, anyone traveling with Murphy can’t be trusted.

Abby

Abby is fixing up her hair when there’s a knock on her door. “Come in!” she calls, and Jackson enters, John trailing behind him. He gestures at her somewhat awkwardly when he sees her, half wave and half salute.

She’s relieved to see him return. She knows how dangerous this world is, and she breathes easier knowing he’s back inside the camp with his own people. John’s only seventeen, after all - younger than her own daughter. He’s far too young to be out there alone.

Or not completely alone, Abby realizes, as she sees the young woman trailing closely behind the other two, eyeing Abby and her room with wariness. It’s obvious she’s a grounder, from her clothing and the distinctive tattoo on her face, though Abby isn’t familiar enough with the clans yet to guess which one she comes from. Marcus might know.

“He wanted to see you,” Jackson tells her, then heads towards the door, “and I’m going to go grab us some breakfast before we open up Medical today.”

Abby waves him off, then turns back to the other two still hovering by the door. “Come, sit down,” she offers, gesturing towards the couch in the middle of her room. She may not be the Chancellor anymore, but being in a relationship with the current one has its perks. Getting to stay in the Chancellor’s room is one of the best ones.

John gratefully takes a seat, lounging comfortably on the couch. He props his feet up on the table in front of him, but a stern look from Abby makes him remove them, muttering a soft and sheepish sorry.

The woman sits on the other side of the couch beside him, but she looks far from comfortable. Her back stays stiff and straight, one hand fisted on her knee, the other twisted and half-hidden in the layers of her clothing. She eyes Abby like a threat.

Abby reaches out a hand towards her. “Hi, I’m Abby.” She tries to keep her voice kind and welcoming, and it helps – a little. A bit of the outright fear disappears from the woman’s eyes, though she doesn’t relax or smile back. She eyes Abby’s hand with confusion, eyes darting to John for guidance.

“It’s an Arkadian greeting,” he explains, then leans forward to grab Abby’s hand with his own, giving it a firm shake. “Like this. With your right hand,” he adds, sharing a look with the woman that makes Abby think she’s missed something.

Abby tries again, reaching her hand out to the woman, smiling. She grabs Abby’s hand firmly with her own, shaking it like John had. “I’m Emori,” she says.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emori,” Abby tells her. Finally, the corners of Emori’s mouth curl up into what could almost be considered a grin. She huffs out a laugh, incredulous, glancing back at John. He grins back at her, and his face is soft in a way Abby hasn’t seen before, so at odds with the angry ten-year-old she once treated on the Ark or the even angrier teenager she had tended to when she first landed.

She remembers the tower, watching John grab this woman like a lifeline out of the corner of her eyes.

It’s nice to see such love and trust between a grounder and someone from the Ark. Abby thinks of Marcus, as she so often does, and wishes again desperately that he were here with her. He would have loved to see this – these two represent exactly what he has been fighting for.

“Why did you want to see me, John?” Abby asks, and John pulls his gaze from Emori, though he moves his arm to drape it across the back of the couch behind her, and lets his fingers fall gently on Emori’s shoulder.

“I thought since I was coming back to camp, I,” he starts, then pauses, glancing at Emori. “Well, we should help out. We wanted to offer our services.”

Abby briefly considers assigning him to Medical. He’d had good instincts in the tower with Ontari, and she thinks with direction he’d do well there. His father was a doctor, after all.

But they have more pressing concerns at the moment. After they found out about the nightblood, Thelonious told her about Becca’s lab, and she’s currently preparing an expedition there. She worries about pulling Thelonious from the camp with both Marcus and her gone, though. He may not be the Chancellor anymore, but he still has a good head for leadership, and Abby wants someone with experience here in case Clarke needs the guidance.

But John traveled with Thelonious for a long time.

“There is actually something I could use your help with,” Abby says. John leans forward in anticipation. “We need to make nightblood-“ She stops when Emori jolts at the word, sucking in a shocked breath.

“Make it?” she asks, and her voice is almost accusatory, as if Abby’s lying to her.

“Yes,” Abby tells her. “It was originally created by a scientist that came down from one of the thirteen stations in space.”

“The first commander,” John murmurs, and Abby nods.

“Yes, Becca. Thelonious told me he’s been to the island where her house and lab were. I was wondering if you’ve also been there.”

Emori and John look uneasy. They trade looks, and Abby senses there’s a silent discussion going on she’s unable to follow. She wonders how long they’ve known each other, to be able to communicate like that.

“We have. We can take you there,” John offers, finally, looking back towards Abby.

“I have a boat,” Emori adds.

It seems like John coming back has solved all her problems.

“Alright, that’s settled then,” Abby says. “But we won’t leave until tomorrow. Let’s get you some food and a place to stay for the night.” She smiles brightly at the two of them. John returns it, though it’s softer and more muted than hers. Emori doesn’t smile back, but her lips twitch in a near grin. She still seems unsure. Abby hopes she’s warming up to her.

Maybe when they’re on the island Emori will grow comfortable with her.

Thelonious

Thelonious is relieved to see John made it out of Polis alright – and happier too that Emori is with him. He can recall, vaguely, through the half-hazy memories of his time with ALIE, how desperate Emori had been when she’d come to him. And how willing she’d been to take the chip when he promised he’d take her to John.

He knows he’s made mistakes with John, mistakes that cost him any relationship he could have had with the boy, but he can’t help the fondness he still feels for him. He’s relieved that despite everything, John made it out alive with someone who cares for him.

Thelonious tries only once to approach him again. John is carrying blankets, on his way to whatever room or tent he and Emori have been given, but he stops when Thelonious calls his name. John turns to face him, and his face is twisted in anger.

“You better be glad I don’t want to get kicked out on my first day back for punching the Chancellor,” John growls, and the hatred in his tone may be justified, but it hurts all the same. It reminds him of the many arguments he used to have with Wells. Fighting with John isn’t nearly as painful, but it does feel familiar.

“Former Chancellor,” Thelonious corrects ruefully.

John snorts. “Whatever.”

“I am glad to see you and Emori are safe, John,” he says and knows instantly it was the wrong thing to say. John’s face grows angrier. His hands tighten on his blankets, and Thelonious wonders if he’s going to get punched in the face despite what John said.

“Don’t you fucking say her name,” John growls. “Don’t you dare go near her. And don’t come near me either. Stay far away from both of us, you got it?”

And then he turns and stalks away, feet stomping forcefully into the dirt. Thelonious lets him go, knowing he’ll listen, that he won’t try again to repair this relationship.

He misses Wells so much it hurts.

Miller

Murphy comes back. This time the girl from the tower is with him. Nathan thinks her name is Emori. He’s never actually been introduced, but he overheard Murphy say it when he was holding the girl as if she’d float away when he let go.

That had been a weird sight – John Murphy hugging someone.

Who knew the guy had a heart?

Nathan doesn’t really know what to think of him. He hadn’t seen or even thought of Murphy in months when he suddenly showed up in Polis, saving all their asses. Bellamy had almost looked happy to see him, and neither of them looked like they were about to kill each other, which was a pretty big change from the last time Nathan saw them together. Something happened while he was in Mt. Weather. He doesn’t know what it was, but frankly he doesn’t need to. Murphy saved his life, he helped in Polis, and Bellamy’s cool with him – that’s all Nathan needs.

It doesn’t mean he’s planning to go be friends with the guy, though. Murphy may be on their side now, but he’s still a major jackass.

But Nathan is curious about the girl, because anyone who can put up with Murphy for more than five minutes must be an interesting person. Or she’s as bad as him.

Part of him wants to ask them how they met - how Murphy of all people ended up with a girlfriend and pretty obviously in love - but shit. Nathan doesn’t think he can handle hearing how great Murphy’s love life is going when his own is basically smoldering wreckage. He hasn’t seen Bryan in days, and since Arkadia isn’t that big, that means he’s avoiding him.

Murphy stays out of everyone’s way, at least. He and Emori keep to themselves; neither seem eager to start up any conversations, and Murphy must realize no one wants to talk to him, either. They avoid the crowds, keep to the edges and shadows of the camp, and stick close together.

Nathan can’t help watching them from a distance. It’s just so weird to see Murphy close with anyone, let alone a girl. Let alone a grounder.

He watches the two wander around camp, and from the way Murphy’s randomly pointing at things and Emori’s nodding along, taking everything in, Nathan guesses Murphy’s taking her on a tour – or at least pointing out the old pieces of the Ark since Murphy doesn’t know Arkadia well enough to give a tour.

Occasionally, one of them will grin at something the other one says. At one point, Murphy nudges Emori’s shoulder, and honest-to-god giggles when she turns to look at him. It’s like Nathan’s watching a different person – where’s the little shithead who did nothing but pick fights and make rude comments?

Man, Nathan thinks. Life is fucking weird sometimes.

Raven

To say Raven is pissed when she hears that John Murphy, and his new grounder buddy, is coming to the island with them is an understatement.

She’s fuming.

Her leg’s hurt worse than before since the chip was disabled – maybe because she wasn’t being careful with it when she was under ALIE’s influence – and having the very person who caused it traveling with her feels like a slap in the face. She regrets not telling Abby the real story about how she got shot; if Abby knew it had been Murphy, she wouldn’t be so quick to trust him.

Raven nearly tells her, as leverage to demand Murphy not come with them, before she realizes how foolish that is. Apparently, Murphy knows where the island with Becca’s lab is. And apparently, his grounder friend has a boat to get them across the water. It’d be stupid not to take them up on their offer to help - between Murphy and Praimfaya, Murphy’s actually the lesser evil.

As mad as she is, Raven can’t help but be a little curious about the grounder girl, Emori. What grounder owns a boat with a motor? She hasn’t met any grounders who use any kind of motorized vehicles – or really any complex machines at all. When she had heard they were traveling by a grounder’s boat, she assumed that meant they’d probably have to row there, until Abby clarified.

The two of them walk by while she’s mending a tear in the outer wall of the Ark, and she pauses her work for a brief moment, watching them. Emori is eyeing the Ark with wide-eyed fascination, and Raven can’t help feel proud despite herself. She may not have helped build the Ark, but she’s worked on it so many times by now that she feels she’s entitled to take a little credit for Emori’s obvious wonder.

A part of her is dying to ask the girl just how much machinery she’s familiar with. Does she come from a clan with advanced technology? Is she as interested in the Ark and Skaikru machines as Raven is? Is she familiar with more machines than just her boat motor?

But talking to the girl would mean getting close to Murphy, since the two stay practically glued together, and that’s not something she’s willing to do – no matter how many questions she has.

Maybe she’ll get a chance on the island, Raven thinks. Maybe that’s the silver lining in this mess.

Niylah

The new woman and her companion sit far away from the rest of the Arkadians to eat their dinner. Niylah notes several people giving them wary looks. It is painful to see that Kyongedakru are still not trusted, even if Niylah has been accepted here and given a place to stay. She knows most of that welcome is thanks to Clarke’s power in camp, and not because Skaikru has let go of their distrust.

Without Clarke’s favor – and Bellamy’s, who has been trying to make up for his past actions against her and her people – she doubts she would be as welcome as she is. There are several members of camp who don’t trust her, and she has faced as much prejudice here as she has acceptance. Her heart aches to think this woman will face the same suspicion and hatred.

It angers her to see that even her friends here are keeping their distance. Clarke and Monty don’t interact with the two newcomers, and Niylah watches the distrustful, nearly hateful stares Monty sends their way with disappointment. She had thought him to be more accepting. It is disheartening to see him fail to offer this woman the same kindness and acceptance he had offered her.

Niylah approaches the two with her evening meal in hand. They turn at the sound of her footsteps, watching her with a mix of confusion and wariness. She tries to find clues of the woman’s clan in her clothing but can’t.

“Heya,” she greets and gestures towards the open space at the table. “May I sit?” she asks, in her native tongue.

The woman nods, and Niylah sits down beside her. The man, clearly a Skaiyon by his clothing and his hair, watches with confusion, and she concludes he must only speak Gonasleng. She supposes the woman must speak it, too, then, but she doesn’t switch over to it. It is partially selfish, as she rarely gets to speak her language here, but also meant as a sign of camaraderie – she wants to reassure the woman that she is not the only Kyongedon here in camp.

“Ai laik Niylah kom Trikru.”

“Ai laik Emori,” the woman says. “Em ste John,” she adds, motioning towards the man. NIylah notes that she does not denote a clan for either of them. It is interesting, especially when John is so clearly from Skaikru, but it is not Niylah’s place to ask why. “Do you speak English? John can’t speak Trigedasleng. Even though I’ve tried to teach him,” she adds with a grin.

He grumbles at her, but it seems good-natured. Even though his mouth is turned in a frown, his eyes are smiling.

“I am Niylah,” Niylah repeats, to John this time.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “Guess you haven’t been warned to stay away from us.” He eyes something behind her. “Yet,” he adds with a dry laugh.

Niylah glances over her shoulder. Clarke, Harper, and Monty are sitting at a table far across the dining hall from them, watching them closely. Monty and Harper look angry. Righteous fury boils under her skin. Her hand clenches into a tight fist in her lap.

She turns back to face Emori. “I am sorry for their behavior,” she says, voice tight and angry. Emori looks surprised. “They should be more welcoming, but they still find it hard to trust us.”

“Oh, it’s not her,” John says. When Niylah looks at him, he’s fiddling with his cup, as if he’s avoiding their eyes. His shoulders have sunk, slightly. “It’s me.”

There’s a story there. Niylah wants to ask him what he did to turn his own people against him and how he ended up traveling with a clanless Kyongedon – but it isn’t her place. She turns to her meal instead, and she sees John out of the corner of her eye, waiting uncertainly for her to speak. When she doesn’t, he hesitantly turns back to his own food.

John and Emori eat half of their rations, then stop. Niylah watches as they carefully wrap the remaining food up and stash it in their pockets – in case they can’t get more in the future, she realizes.

Life has not been kind to them, she thinks.

Clarke

Clarke can’t say she cares much either way about Murphy coming back to camp. They’ll never be friends, but at least the old grudge is gone. He did keep her alive in the City of Light and saved her mother’s life, after all.

But Clarke has bigger things to worry about than John Murphy, even if his return is the only thing the rest of the remaining delinquents are talking about. The gossip is everywhere. No matter where Clarke goes, she hears his name whispered amongst groups of uneasy teenagers. Some of them even eye her with distrust, as if she’s to blame for letting him back into their camp.

The adults in camp are suspicious, too – but not of Murphy. They don’t know what happened in the Dropship camp, but they are wary of grounders. The peace is holding for now, but it isn’t easy, and Emori’s presence causes uneasiness.

It had taken a long time for them to adjust to Niylah, too, and even now Clarke knows there are some who won’t associate with her. She wonders if Grounders and Skaikru will ever truly accept each other. Maybe after five years together in the Ark, she thinks wryly – for those that make it in.

Clarke doesn’t get a chance to talk with either Murphy or Emori. Her day is busy, full of whatever repairs and preparations she can help Raven with. At dinner, she finally allows herself a chance to rest – just long enough to grab some food and eat.

Monty and Harper find her. They sit across from her, and Harper slams her cup down on the table with so much force that it clangs loudly. “Murphy said he was pardoned,” she says, and it comes out more as an attack than a statement.

Clarke swears she can feel a headache forming. “He was,” she answers calmly. “While you were in Mt. Weather.”

“You can’t really trust him?” Monty asks, incredulous. “He tried to kill Jasper!”

“I don’t trust him. But he saved my life. And Bellamy’s. And he helped us stop ALIE.”

“Oh, I’m sure he did all that out of the kindness of his heart,” Harper snipes, and Clarke is momentarily thrown by the intensity of her anger. She wasn’t aware Harper held such a grudge for Murphy.

“Think of it this way,” Clarke tries, “we can use all the help we can get right now.”

“And then they get a place in the Ark when the Death Wave comes?” Monty asks. It’s an awful feeling having Monty unhappy with her. He’s always been on her side in the past.

No, she thinks. They won’t. You won’t either. The list drags at her like a heavy weight. She hates lying to her friends. She hates that it feels like she’s betraying them.

The nightblood will work, she assures herself. And Murphy and Emori will help them make it.

It doesn’t matter what Murphy’s done in the past or what grudges the delinquents still hold - Clarke knows it’s a good thing he’s come back to camp.

Trigedasleng translations:

Kyongedakru / Kyongedon - Grounders/Grounder Skaiyon - an individual member of Skaikru Gonasleng - English Ai laik Niylah kom Trikru - I am Niylah of Trikru Ai laik Emori. Em ste John - I am Emori. He is John.

About Harper - I don’t think she necessarily hates Murphy that much, but she does know what it’s like to trust someone you shouldn’t. I think she would project a lot of her lingering fear and anger from Mt. Weather on Murphy.

[rdrngr]

VERSE  SPECIFIC  HEADCANONS :  the  100

While I tried to come up with a Skaikru or known Grounder clan origin story I just couldn’t connect with anything that I initially came up with so I made up a completely new thing to play with, so apologies in advance for the word vomit.

Before the Nuclear Apocalypse, a billionaire known as Zordon funded the creation of an underground bunker in South Dakota that could house up to a thousand people, a pet project belonging to an eccentric philosopher but when A.L.I.E launched the Nuclear warheads that brought down civilization, Zordon was only able to save three hundred civilians. Underground, Zordon and the survivors worked together to create a functioning society while monitoring the surface of the earth for signs of life and change in the atmosphere. When Zordon saw the crash landing of Becca Franco, he and a handful of his companions left the relative safety of the Bunker within carefully created hazmat suits to attempt the long journey to the landing site but by the time they arrived Becca Franco had been killed by Bill Cadogan and his followers.

Zordon was able to make contact with Cadogan, negotiating a peaceful interaction by bargaining with trade. It was while they were guests of Cadogan’s, escorted into the Second Dawn Bunker, that Zordon discovered the existence of the Night Blood serum. For weeks Zordon and his companions worked to retrieve a sample of the Night Blood serum with plans of cloning the serum back in the South Dakota bunker and replicating the serum for their community but Zordon was betrayed by his close friend Rita and taken prisoner while his companions were executed. Zordon was able to escape from his prison cell, stealing a cylinder of the Night Blood serum and injecting himself before fleeing to the surface.

Zordon returned to the South Dakota bunker, closing and sealing the doors, knowing that Rita was not far behind him. Zordon committed many atrocities against humanity in his desperation to recreate and clone the Night Blood serum but he did eventually succeed and administered the serum to the other survivors of the South Dakota bunker. Rita, with a small group of armed militia clad within hazmat suits attacked the South Dakota bunker, destroying the filtration system and sabotaging the generators and water filtration systems above ground, eventually forcing Zordon and a small group to unseal the hatch or risk suffocating to death.

Zordon managed to kill Rita but not before she mortally wounded him in return. Cadogan’s men were hunted down and killed before they could return to the Second Dawn bunker and of the original 279 South Dakota survivors, only 92 still lived and only 61 were Nightbloods. For almost five decades the Dakota survivors were at war with Cadogan until together they amassed their community and journeyed west over the Rocky Mountains until they reached the ocean. There, they settled in a place they called Angrov and their tribe known as Shovkru.

Shovkru eventually made contact with a clan whom called themselves Karnik, a tribe of fire masters who believed that Praimfaya was an act of god. The Karnik invaded Shovkru’s lands and war with them lasted decades. The Karnik would capture Shovkru, enslaving them or burning them alive to appease their god. While their origins are never discovered it is safe to assume that they were formerly a Doomsday cult that survived the Nuclear Apocalypse through underground sanctuary like Cadogan and Zordon.

Jason was born a Nightblood and as such he was trained as an elite warrior and fighter with an expectation to become one of Shovkru’s greatest protectors. Jason served in the armies of Shovkru for four years before he led an assault on Karnik territory to assassinate their matriarch and destroy their underground stronghold. While Jason and his team succeeded, Jason’s left leg was almost destroyed in the battle during their escape from the stronghold and his closest friend was also grievously wounded. The hostilities between Shovkru and Karnik ended as the Karnik survivors were forced to abandon their lands or perish.

Six weeks after the Karnik’s defeat, Shovkru’s leader, the Zordon, discovered the eventual arrival of a second Praimfaya and sent Jason and his team back west to warn the other clans despite their history of hostilities. While traveling over the Rocky Mountains, Jason and his team watch the descent of the delinquent drop ship.

SHOVKRU THINGS:

Their language developed alongside that of the Grounders of the South-East (trikru/azgeda etc), but their separation and distance has caused their dialect to have altered considerably. They can still understand each other but there are certain words and pronunciations that will be foreign to one another.

Their system of government is a democracy. They have several sub-clans or sub-covens who elect their leaders known as Rangers and have a single ruler who possesses the title of Zordon.

Nightbloods are extremely valued as warriors, their primary focus is in protecting the community from foreign threats. Nightbloods work together within elite groups, tasked with special missions in warfare. They are not worshiped nor are they elected as leaders or rulers though there are some who perceive them as heroes or idols.

Nightbloods do not automatically become elite warriors. All members of Shovkru must serve at least two years in the army, Nightbloods are paid special attention but only those committed to the protection of the community and whom succeed in the Three Trials, become the elite.

Most Nightbloods will continue to serve in the armies even if they don’t pass the Trials but serve as general warriors or war strategists.

Nightbloods who choose to leave the army are not exiled or punished and can live normal enough lives, though they may be somewhat ostracized by members of the community for “abandoning” their duty to the people they can move past this by serving the community in other ways such as healers, innovators, hunters, explorers etc.

Shovkru is a community based society. They are loyal to each other, they are encouraged to support and help one another regardless of who they are and believe they are always stronger together. While this does not mean that every member of Shovkru cares about each other, they are very tight-knit and possess immense pride in who they are and what they can do.

While not as technologically advanced as Skaikru they do possess knowledge of science, engineering and technology. Intellectual minds are valued and cultivated for the betterment of the community and they can be fairly innovated in creating new tools, equipment and devices.

Shovkru have a very “one for all, all for one” mentality and disapprove of the concept of viewing people as expendable. Decisions that impact the communities survival as a whole are often dealt with by the whole community, not a singular person.

[clan-nightblood]

Nyx's Old Kitchen

"Listen... I was in a rush. The pictures aren't that good. But this was my first time decorating something myself, and I was proud! I miss my house... but I wouldn't trade Nightblood Manor to have it back. Soon my apartment will be well decorated, and that will be a sight to see." - Nyx Nightblood

Decorated by Nyx Nightblood

[williammarshal-blog]

Just You & Me

Prompt: “GETTING MARRIED AND HONEYMOON. Finally, I remembered one of the things I'd always wanted done. (preferably canon)”

"Clarke? Clarke kom Skaikru?"

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Clarke groaned as she rolled over in bed. Her arm flopped out and realised Lexa wasn't on the other side, and the hammering on the door continued. It was a boy's voice—and after a few beats of "Clarke kom Skaikru", she recognised it as Aden's. Rolling her eyes, she decided she was not ready for whatever bullshit he was pulling today—yet, and she would smack herself later, she flung the door open, her messy hair resembling a lion's mane and her face resembling...thunder.

Aden, smartly dressed, nearly jumped out of his skin. "Oh no," he said disapprovingly, shoving into the room. Offended, Clarke opened her mouth, and then Aden's entrance was followed by a group of maids. He spoke to them. "Will you please make her look presentable?" They muttered something in Trigedasleng and Clarke, folding her arms, waited. Aden tried to keep it quiet. "Well—at least make her look like a human!"

Shit-head.

"Is that possible?" Aden carried on, because clearly he hadn't been laid yet. "Yes? Alright—if possible, can you do it within the hour?"

They spoke as if Clarke was not there.

"Two hours?" Aden's gaze flickered from Clarke to the floor, and nodded. "I'll give you three."

"Wow," Clarke snapped, "Way to make a girl feel comfortable!"

"I was just trying—"

"Pass me my bra."

"Er—this—bra commodity you speak of, what does it look like?"

"Oh, God."

Clarke shucked off her tunic and Aden physically turned around in embarrassment, nearly tripping over his two feet as she slipped her bra on, quickly got changed into her everyday breeches and snatched a comb from one of the maids. "Let's go."

Aden looked aghast. "But—"

"Go."

Aden extended his arm for Clarke to take as they descended the never-ending staircase of the Polisian tower. A crap design, she liked to remind Lexa, who would roll her eyes every time.

Since the quashing of Ice Nation's rebellion, Lexa had welcomed Echo as the new Ice Queen, with her stepping into the previous Queen's shoes. It was unstable. Echo and Lexa's ethics regularly collided, but Echo was far more accommodating than her predecessor. What happened up North was far away from the worries of Polis, the clan leaders advised, but Lexa had been adamant that the civilians up North got the same privileges and rights as the Polisians, the Trikru...

Aden noted the blistering sunlight outside the windows as they traipsed downstairs. "We could get you better-dressed," Aden suggested.

"D'you think I look shabby as I am?" Clarke asked.

"...No..."

"Then I'll go dressed as this. I'm assuming Lexa wants to see me."

"Not yet!" Aden blabbed, mentally slapping himself. Think on your feet. Improvise. Anticipate and parry. Okay. Jab. "I need to do something first."

"I thought—"

"It isn't urgent. If you don't mind..." Aden played the sob-story in his head, and then he clasped his hands in front of him, bowing his head. "I need to do some shopping for my mother. The Commander is engaged for the time-being, hence why I asked for a few hours, but—my mother—she rarely sees the sunlight for she is cooped up inside for so long. Could you...?"

Clarke gripped his wrist, and squeezed lightly. "Aden, of course. Come on."

Lexa dismounted, wiping the sweat from her brow. It had been a hellish day (or night). As soon as Clarke had fallen asleep—and she fell deeply asleep—Lexa had slipped away from the bed, nodding towards Jona, her chief City Guard by the gate. Jona had already saddled her horse and wished her a nervous "good luck".

It seemed, as Lexa arrived by the gates to the Ark crowded by Abby, Kane, Raven, Octavia, Bellamy, Monty, Jasper and Harper—that judgement day had arrived.

"Uh," she had began, very un-Commander-ish of her. "I would like an audience with Abby Griffin alone, please, if I may."

"Intention?" Harper was the girl by the gates, Lexa assumed. She did not know all of Clarke's friends.

"Confidential."

"I can't let you in without—"

"It's fine," Abby said, stepping forward to unbolt the gate. It was 3am, and the Commander of the coalition didn't just ride here, alone, in the middle of the night, for no reason. If there was intent to harm, Lexa would've slain them all by now. "Commander, please step inside."

Abby had been calm and cordial in escorting Lexa to her personal chambers, ignoring Marcus Kane's concern. She'd brushed him off and Lexa respected that. She knew Abby Griffin as a trustworthy figure—she was a healer after all, and what were they except goodness? Kane was reasonable and fair, but he was also a politician. Lexa could empathise with him. But she knew that whatever Abby Griffin projected tonight, it would be straight from the heart—quite like her daughter.

Lexa made polite but short conversation as they walked, trying to recite the books she'd read on the topic. Their book-house was forged from stories told of the old Commanders, poetry written decades ago, and some books that had been foraged and found and returned to Polis as relics of the old earth.

Books could only get Lexa so far, though.

"You—you want to marry Clarke?" Abby repeated in disbelief, hanging her head in shock. Lexa's ears reddened, knowing Clarke's friends would be outside the door, their ears pressed to the solid surface. "Commander Lexa, I...just..."

"Please," Lexa said, "Let me explain."

Abby relented, waving her arms frantically. "Please do."

Lexa swallowed hard, and began pacing the room—which did not help Abby, who'd sat down on the edge of her bed as if she was about to collapse. She respected Abby's stance in this: she remembered Lexa as the heartless Commander who had left her daughter for death at Mount Weather. Despite Clarke's residence in Polis, Lexa could try and sympathise with a mother's dilemma. Empathy—maybe not. Clarke was happy. Clarke smiled and laughed and played with the kids in the Square. But Abby was not privy to this.

"I have been made aware that some customs of the old earth have stayed with the Sky people," Lexa started hesitantly, trying to remember Aden's five pages of scribbly notes. "I am also aware that when two people love each other, it is customary to gift your loved one and ask for their hand."

Abby nodded silently, her jaw still slack. Lexa angled her head for a verbal response, but she received nothing. Slightly exasperated, but in full knowledge that she had to appear courteous, not like she had a bad case of constipation, Lexa plucked courage from thin air.

"I was also made aware that it is etiquette one must approach their loved one's father—or in Clarke's case, mother—to permit such a big ask."

"Uh-huh," Abby said faintly. "Have you been reading Georgian novels?"

"Have I—excuse me?"

"Never mind," Abby hastened. "Are you asking me if it's okay to marry Clarke? Wait—" she said again, before Lexa could open her mouth. "You want to marry...Clarke?"

"She may not agree to take my hand," Lexa provided helpfully. "In such a case, my feelings for her will not fade. I will still love your daughter as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west."

Abby stared at her. The impossible answer would be "no". Clarke and Lexa would bench it anyway—but she didn't want to say no to this sparkly-eyed, hopeful Commander. Kane had been right. She was a revolutionary. And Abby's desire to throttle Lexa for what occurred at Mount Weather would never go away, but the fact that Lexa had ridden all the way here just to ask for permission was something Abby didn't want to let go. She had not seen Clarke's face in so long; she had not heard from Clarke at all. But if Lexa was here, she could feel Clarke's smile; her laugh...

"I will have a carriage arranged for her to discuss it with you if you wish," Lexa said quickly, and Abby snapped out of her thoughts. "I understand it's difficult without Clarke actually—"

"You know Clarke, Commander," Abby laughed. "Do you really think I'd have much sway in whether she says yes or no?"

Lexa smiled reluctantly. Abby had a point.

"Your ways," Abby murmured, "don't always agree with what I think is right. I think you know that. Maybe our ways aren't right either. But you rode all the way here, alone, just to ask me a question."

"In all fairness, Abby kom Skaikru, it is not just a—"

"I know. But you asked."

"I wanted to."

"She's barely an adult." Abby closed her eyes, and Lexa watched awkwardly as a solitary tear trickled down her cheek. She did not move to comfort her; that was too strange. And she could not empathise either. Her Nightbloods—the youngest being seven—could assume command at any given minute. Childhood did not mean weakness, and though Abby seemed to mentally cradle Clarke like a baby, Lexa would not forget the three hundred warriors this child had scorched to death. She would not forget Mount Weather. She would not forget the fury and then the anguish on Clarke's face as she tried to kill her with a concealed knife.

She would not forget. Yet here she was, because she loved.

"I'd be giving my daughter to you," Abby said heavily, and she was not ashamed of the tears flowing from her eyes. Lexa found she did not care. "Commander, I trust you with her life—but I don't know if I trust you with this. And this is her life."

When Lexa rode for Polis in the early hours of the morning, beckoning her horse to pound faster through the forest, she wondered how she would cope with her heart exploding tomorrow.

Aden, it turned it, was a rubbish liar. He'd brought a singular apple from the fruit market, a bottle of wine ("for my mother"), a swishy bracelet which he gifted Clarke with ("for the future!") and then double-backed to the fruit market only to spend over an hour asking what the odd-looking ones were, and then buying one.

As if Aden was controlled by some sort of switch, he decided they would take a walk. By now, Clarke was exasperated and tired enough to consider punching the boy's lights out, until they made it to the wall. Jona, a familiar face, grinned broadly at her.

"Mochof, Aden," Jona said.

"Good luck, Clarke kom Skaikru!" Aden said cheerily as he left, waving.

Clarke was completely lost, and Jona was of no help either. She spoke in riddles, and Clarke was baffled as to why everyone was being so goddamn cryptic around her all day. This was mainly Aden and his suspiciously suspicious gazes. Clarke noted the beautiful sunset, with the oranges and yellows merging with the lilacs and pinks of the sky. Another day fading, and another day on the brink tomorrow. Jona led her up the stairs to the wall-walk, and Clarke stopped in her tracks.

Lexa, dressed only in simple but smart black garb, swivelled on the spot to face her. Her hair was braided back neatly, her face slightly pale. In one hand, she held a braid of hair. The other was shoved inside a pocket. Jona left them, muttering under her breath. In the distance they both heard her yell for the guards to block passage to the wall-walk.

"Clarke," she greeted, too formally. Clarke nearly balked. What the fuck was going on? Was Lexa in on this weird ass trip too? "I...hope you are well?"

"What?" Clarke threw her arms up in the air. "Are you part of this too? Is someone gonna come and shove some mud in my face 'cause it's clearly prank Clarke day?"

"Excuse me? No!" Lexa's bafflement was genuine, and she hastily held out the familiar-looking braid of hair. Clarke stared at it, memories of water, memories of a muddy Anya—all crashing into her like a tidal wave. For some reason, Lexa had brought her up here again. "Do you remember this?"

"It's Anya's lock of hair," Clarke said quietly. "I kept it for you."

She wondered if it was Anya's name-day today, or if there was some particular reason—

"That was the first time I met you." Lexa's tone was soft, and hesitantly, she trudged over towards Clarke. Her words were not as smooth and confident as Clarke was accustomed to. "I remembered your flowing light hair and your sky-blue eyes, and I wondered if she'd fallen as a product of my wishes. A cruel lesson was when I realised that no, it was not. But I ask you here today because I asked your mother, who said yes—"

"You—saw my mom?"

"Yes. And I told her I loved you. I—love—you. Do you remember, when we were last here? When the sun slept and we watched over Polis—our city—swell with life?"

Clarke felt a lump grow in her throat. "Yes."

"I want to see that every day with you," Lexa said simply. "I want to wake in the morning with you by my side. I want to kiss you until I cannot, because I've fallen asleep. I want to remind you with every waking moment that I love you. Ai hod yu in, Klark kom Skaikru."

"Yes." Clarke didn't know what else to say, her eyes stinging with emotion. It was not sadness—no, it definitely was not. It was a sense of impossibility suddenly becoming possibility. They had always been inevitable together; they had never been possible—not without their duties blocking their ways. And Clarke knew despite this—whatever Lexa was going to ask, and whatever Aden had been clearly distracting her from today, that the rule would remain in place. Lexa was a lover of her people, but in her heart—which was bigger than she knew—she had carved a space for Clarke, too. "I love you too, Lexa."

"Then be mine, as I am yours," Lexa said. She moved closer, and then knelt on the gravelly ground. Clarke stared down at her, stunned. Her heart felt as if it had stopped. "I want my eternity to be intertwined with yours. I declare my heart as yours. I vow to treat your people as mine; I vow to caress your body and soul with nothing but love."

Holy shit... "Lexa, you don't need to do this—"

"I love you. As a storm may brew ahead for us one day, I will not let you fall away from me. My duty as the Commander is to my people; my duty as Lexa kom Trikru is to ask for your hand in betrothal, for I am utterly captivated by you. Every day I am more and more enamoured by your smile. Every day my hands smooth over your skin and I am entranced. Every day my heart swells when I think of you. Clarke kom Skaikru, would you do me the honour of joining your heart to mine?"

Abby's ring, gifted to her by Jake, was now on Clarke's finger. She glanced at it, and back at Lexa, who smiled at her.

That night, they made love. Clarke had never wished to be married, but here she was. And she kissed Lexa as she her lithe body crawled up Clarke's, tasting herself on Lexa's tongue. That night, they made love and that night, they worshipped each other.

"Where are we going?"

"A little patience," Lexa teased her as she tested her new horse. It was pitch-black, named Thunder, and they trotted at a leisurely pace. Clarke's arms wrapped around Lexa's waist, resting her chin against the crook of Lexa's neck as she rode. As they rode, Clarke took in the beauty of the Trikru territory—the plains just outside of the Polisian walls, the lake, and the forestry.

It was buried deep within the forest, but Lexa finally tsked at Thunder and dismounted easily, hoisting Clarke off the horse too. She quickly tied Thunder up, scruffing him by the neck, and Clarke studied the sight before her.

There was a very modest hut before her.

Clarke noticed how green the grass was, and how fresh the lake seemed to be. The hut was shoddily put together, as if it had been a single-man job. It lacked the grandiose of Polis—that was for sure. But in there were trees nearby that grew apples, and Lexa plucked one off said tree and chomped hungrily into it. Clarke didn't even have the time to warn her about sanitation before she picked one for herself, rubbed a little consciously at it, and then bit into it. It was crisp and juicy, and she let out a moan of appreciation. Lexa's head snapped back and she smiled lopsidedly at her.

"What is this place?" Clarke asked in wonder. If anyone wanted banishment, they should definitely come here—that was the thought running through Clarke's mind. It was nicely done-up, and it was surrounded by life—life that was charmingly silent, compared to the hustle and bustle of Polis' City Square.

"A reprieve," Lexa said. "Even the Commander needs one sometimes."

"How did you find it?"

"It found me." Lexa, even after her grand, dramatic proposal on the wall-work of Polis, had clearly not lost the knack for a cryptic word puzzle. "Now it has found us."

"Well, you rode towards it. So I'd argue otherwise."

Lexa was not amused.

Together, they cracked the door open and Clarke marvelled at how clean it was; she supposed Lexa must've ridden for this place and given it a good tidy before Clarke's arrival. There were fresh sheets and fur placed over the bed, with pastels and charcoal in a tin marked "KLARK" resting in the corner on top of a well-constructed desk. Other than that, everything else was basic. She assumed they would catch dinner in the woods or in the lake, and cook outside. The only other luxury Lexa had allowed was a fresh sketchbook, and far too many candles.

"It creates ambience," Lexa said when she saw the look on Clarke's face. "Sometimes there is a middle setting that is required between the bolstering sunlight and the pitch black darkness of the night."

"It's called sunset, Lexa."

"Yes, sunset. I like sunset."

Clarke wasn't quite sure how to argue that back. Instead, she flopped onto the bed, and revelled in some space to just sprawl over and spread her limbs. The journey from here to Polis had been long, and she closed her eyes momentarily.

Without really thinking, a small smile spread across her face. Lexa had effectively proposed on the wall-walk, requesting they join their lives together. In many ways, Clarke figured they had unofficially married months ago. But Lexa was a stickler for tradition. She did not even want to know how many books she'd leafed through trying to figure out what Skaikru tradition was. She still needed to ask Abby what had been said—or if her mother would start vomiting rainbows at the mention.

"Are you happy?"

Lexa's voice was gentle when she asked it, and when Clarke's eyes slowly opened, Lexa had cocked her head to gaze at her curiously. Clarke couldn't help but fiddle with her mom's old ring. If this was the only message Abby could get out to Clarke in a long time, then it had worked. She knew of the depth of love between their parents.

"I'm with you," Clarke answered.

"Does—does that make you happy?"

"It makes me think you're an idiot for asking."

"I won't touch your heart except only to caress it," Lexa promised her, just like she had on the walls of Polis, overlooking her city. "I brought you here to get away from it all. Soon we will have to return to being the Commander and Wanheda respectively. But here, no-one will find us; no-one will hear us. Here, it is safe to shuck off the skin of a Commander and wear one of Lexa kom Trikru. Likewise, it is the same with you."

Clarke indulged herself in the idea, her natural greed coming to the forefront as she wished this could be their eternity. Lexa being her eternity was more than enough...but Lexa was not always Lexa in Polis. Sometimes, she had to execute decisions as simply the Commander. Sometimes it was not Lexa, but rather the Commander, who argued fervently over ethical issues of a situation. The promise of an escape—where Lexa could always be that tentative young woman who'd dared to open the portcullis to her heart in her tent—was entrancing.

This, she realised, was their honeymoon.

Clarke grinned when she realised, her grin slowly fading at the thought. Their honeymoon was this: a stolen moment of blissful freedom, where there were no politics, no betrayals, and no fighting. Their honeymoon was a world where only two of them existed as who they really were. One: a delinquent fallen from the sky, her eyes the colour of the world she no longer belonged in. Two: a woman with the world on her shoulders; a child of the forest and a beacon of hope for all future generations. Here they could forget genocide; betrayal; assassination; wilderness...

Here, they could revel in something Clarke had wanted, solely: Lexa.

"I'm happy," Lexa mused. She was perching on the edge of a chair, watching as Clarke spread-eagled on the bed. "You make me happy."

"Do I?"

"You make me smile."

"That's a first."

"It's true. You make me happy when you are here; when you're not here I think of you and you make me happy once more. Your kiss makes me invincible. Your embrace renders me at your disposal. You, Clarke, I love. If you'll accept this twisted heart of mine."

Clarke shifted on the bed, shuffling to one side as she rested the side of her face on her palm, lying on one side. "Your heart's not twisted, Lexa."

"Beyond repair," Lexa disagreed. "I wish my love could be gentler. But you find me scarred and ruthless and sometimes cruel."

"I find you human," Clarke said honestly. "If you were anything but, I wouldn't love you the way I do."

"How do you love me?"

"Do you want me to show you?"

Wordlessly, Lexa crawled onto the bed, and all of a sudden she was a virgin again. Clarke encouraged her, wondering how the most confident speaker in all of the realm could be reduced to this—but she did not know what was racking through Lexa's mind. Knowing Lexa, that was probably everything.

"You needn't kiss me any differently," Clarke murmured, as Lexa's hand rested on her hip. "When you kiss me, I feel everything. I always have."

And so Lexa kissed her.

She kissed her, gently, tentatively—just like the very first kiss they'd shared. It was an exploration; a test. Lexa kissed her as if she'd never kissed her before, her lips brushing tenderly over Clarke's as her grip on Clarke's waist tightened ever so slightly. Clarke cupped both of Lexa's cheeks in her hand and returned passionately, coaxing Lexa's lip open.

"Trust me," Clarke whispered against her mouth, and slipped her tongue in, brushing their noses together as they drew apart. She nibbled on Lexa's bottom lip, giggling softly at Lexa's rakish grin, and knocked their foreheads together. "We're in this together."

"The sky always joins the earth; it was a matter of destiny," Lexa said hoarsely. "It is of luck you are of the sky. Together I believe we can take the world back."

"Us two?"

"Maybe they'll write stories of us. Not of how we fought for peace, but of how we loved. How we broke each other and pieced each other back together. How we ruled the world because you believed in me, and I believed in you, and that candle never blew out."

"Maybe," Clarke agreed, "but I don't give a fuck about stories right now."

"No?"

"No."

Clarke kissed her again, surging up to meet Lexa's lips as they kissed properly this time, all cover of shyness and tenderness vanishing in an instant. She yanked Lexa by the waist, causing her to grunt in surprise as she involuntarily rolled over Clarke's body, straddling her hips. Clarke's hands roamed her body greedily as they wriggled out of their clothes, laughing as they tossed them anywhere and everywhere. Wanton fingernails sunk into the soft flesh of Lexa's ass, and Lexa shuddered as she dipped her head down, her kiss full of bite and tongue.

"Someone's keen," Clarke panted between kisses as Lexa ravished her. Her lips flew everywhere, from licking their way down the length of Clarke's neck to clamping her teeth down by her collarbone. With every kiss and lick and suck and bite, Clarke's back arched in pleasure, her head thrown back against the pillows as Lexa feasted on her, cherishing every contour of her body.

"You're so beautiful," Lexa mumbled against her sternum, her hands deftly pushing Clarke's underwear out of the way.

"Come here," Clarke beckoned.

Lexa, placing soft kisses on Clarke's breasts, gently clamped down on her nipple, her tongue swirling. She smiled at the way Clarke groaned in response, but she did as she was told, encouraged by Clarke's hand.

"Grab onto the headboard," Clarke said firmly.

"Clarke—"

"Heda."

Lexa had very few weaknesses, but Clarke calling her Commander—even if it was out of jest or just to get her own way—was far too easy. The power-trip she had was so stupidly immense that Clarke had to mock her for it—and the way she fell for it every time. Lexa's hands gripped tightly onto the railing of the headboard, her arm muscles rippling as she did so. Clarke placed her hands either side of Lexa's thighs, clamping down to hold her in position.

"Say it." Clarke had her own ways. "Say 'fuck me'."

Lexa obliged. "Fuck me."

"Mm." Clarke dipped her tongue in, feeling Lexa's growing wetness as she pressed the flat of her tongue hard against Lexa's lips. Her hips immediately jerked, but Clarke held her steady, gently tracing her tongue against the outer lips of Lexa's cunt.

"Please." Lexa was breathless as Clarke teased her, her teeth grazing against her inner thigh, her tongue swirling over the skin she bit. "Fuck me, Clarke."

Clarke's hands held her down as she thrust her tongue inside of her, satisfied all the way to the bottom of her belly and the overbearing ache between her legs as Lexa cried out in pleasure, bucking her hips as Clarke lapped up Lexa's wetness. She did not have to do a thing. She sucked at Lexa's sensitive clit, her darkened eyes flicking up to watch Lexa's sweaty body rock above hers, her forehead glistening with sweat. Her fists clenched harder against the headboard, and Clarke raked her fingernails up Lexa's back, digging her nails in so they'd leave scratch marks all over. She knew how sexy Lexa found it; how badly she wanted to be marred by Clarke's lust and affection. Lexa rolled her hips, desperately trying to keep up with Clarke's rhythm but Clarke wasn't doing a thing: it was all Lexa.

And it was a magical sight; the stuff of fantasies. Lexa, a goddess in her own right, throwing her head back as she came loudly in Clarke's mouth, her body spasming in sheer bliss. A mortal's tongue had driven a goddess crazy; a mortal's tongue had robbed the legendary Commander, a myth in centuries to come, speechless and dry-mouthed and buzzing with ecstasy as she came hard. If Lexa was a goddess, then Clarke was drinking the honeyed nectar.

Oh, but they were so human. It was why they hid from the world upon such an occasion; they 'married' in-secret, officiated by Kane and proudly escorted by her mother. Clarke thought with a laugh what her mother would say if she walked in on them now.

Lexa rolled off her, utterly spent and exhausted. She breathed hard, lolling her head back. Jok.

"This is why Sky people wish to become betrothed," Lexa deduced. Clarke was so in awe of watching her that she didn't even bother correcting how utterly and hilariously wrong Lexa was.

"Sure..."

"Here, we are Clarke and Lexa," Lexa said, heavy-lidded eyes filled to the brim with dark desire. She turned to face Clarke. "It is noon. I do not want to stop ravishing your body until the birds caw in the morning."

Clarke smirked at her. "Yeah?"

"I will make love to you," Lexa said softly, and then she said: "then I will—" she tested the word on her lips, "—fuck you. I will do it  so hard you will scream my name so loud that the Polisians will wonder who is calling from the Trikru territory."

"You're all words," Clarke laughed, raking a hand through her sweaty hair. "If you could, you'd do it."

"I do not make promises I cannot keep."

It took them four days to ride back to Polis as they both complained of an ache down there as they rode Thunder.

So this was how a Grounder-Skaikru wedding would be like, then...

[immortalpramheda]

The 100 ‘DNR’

I somehow survived 4 weeks with no new episodes. Lets be real, I mostly spent the time analysing previous episodes and coming up with theories as to what is going to happen by the end of the season. Anyway, I’m so happy The 100 is back! I thought this episode was great! There were some great moments between characters. And I say this after every episode but Raven seriously needs a break. It hurts seeing her in so much pain all the time.

Clarke had already allied Skaikru with Azgeda. But then Kane went off and allied them with Trikru. So obviously there was going to be tension. Two clans who are mortal enemies allied with Skaikru? Yeah, that’s going to be fine.

Abby warned her at the last minute that Trikru weren’t okay with the alliance, but Clarke trusts Roan and there’s no way she’d back down from their alliance. It annoyed me how Abby and Kane just expected Clarke to just say bye to Azgeda and accept the alliance with Trikru. Clarke is not one to break promises. She promised Roan that Azgeda would get place in the bunker. And she intended to keep that promise. Luckily Clarke warned Roan. He still trusts her. Otherwise he might have had Echo kill her. Actually, their friendship is too strong. I’m not sure anything could break it at this point. Even war. #bff

I had a feeling that Clarke was going to become the Commander ever since she became a Nightblood. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted it though. I know lots of people wanted it so she’d always a piece of Lexa in her but I didn’t want it for that reason. I wanted her to take the Flame not to become the new Commander, but to get some advice/help from Becca.

I’m glad they didn’t go through with it. As exciting as it was to almost see an ascension happen, I didn’t like the reason Clarke was doing it. The Grounders see the Commander as this God. They follow and do whatever they say. It’s a highly religious thing. Clarke was going to abuse that to stop the the war. She was going to exploit the Grounders religion. I don’t think that’s right.

And also, if she had become the Commander and stopped the war, she would have saved everyone once again. Clarke is like the ‘Chosen One’. The one person who saves everyone time and time again. And that’s such a cliche trope in many stories. The 100 has never been a show that follows a particular formula so I’m glad that Clarke’s plan didn’t work out. This time, she’s not going to be the one to save everyone. And I’m happy for that change!

Any mention of science or technology and the Grounders are out. Abby just saying the word ‘science’ made all the Grounders want to put an end to the ascension ceremony. I felt most bad of Gaia. The Flamekeepers faith is her life. And now she’s found out that anyone can become a Nightblood. It throws out their whole religion. Nightbloods are supposed to be rare and special. But now that literally anyone can become one it disregards the significance of their religion. I think this is the end of the Commanders. I don’t think there will ever be another one. And besides, there has to a conclave before an ascension. Which not gonna lie sounds awesome! But I am kind of scared for some characters.

Clarke just wanted to save as many people as she can, no mater what clan they’re from. I get it. There are 6 days left and there is still war between all the clans. Why can’t they just all get along? If they keep this up no one is going to survive.

So, Ilian basically took Octavia to his home so she could do some gardening for him. I never ever thought I would see Octavia try to do gardening. I’ve never seen someone so aggressively do gardening. She really tried to hard to put her energy into something other than fighting. Ilian is sweet. I like him. And a part of me hoped that maybe he’d changed Octavia. That he’d helped her to realise that fighting and killing is not the only way for her to live. That she could find peace with him on his farm growing crops and taking care of the sheep. (Where are these sheep he kept mentioning? Did they all get killed in the black rain?)

But of course Octavia can’t do that. It’s not who she is. Before she was a warrior she didn’t know who she was. When she is fighting and killing that is when she feels truly like herself. As much I hate seeing this darkness in her I knew this life with Ilian was not an option for her. As soon as the opportunity came for violence she took it. She took it a little too far I’ll admit. But this is who Octavia is. If she is going to die she wants a warriors death. Ilian was literally gone for about 5 minutes and he comes back to find 3 people who have been violently murdered by Octavia. I wonder what kind of impression that left on him.

I loved when Octavia arrived back in Polis and said she’s ready for war. Yep, that’s Octavia. Unfortunately war and violence is a part of who she is and I don’t see the changing anytime soon.

Side note, I loved Ilian talking about reincarnation. How the plants die in the Winter and then grow again in Summer. The plants are reincarnated so therefore he believes humans will be too. That’s a beautiful metaphor. She could have died peacefully with him and started over in a another life. I wish we’d gotten to know more about Trishanakru. I love learning about the beliefs of the different clans.

Oh Harper. I knew blaming herself for that guys death in the black rain would affect her. I didn’t think it would this deeply though. She's tired of fighting. She wants it all to be over. She would rather die than live in the bunker for 5 years. As Monty said, she pushed that guy off her because she wanted to live. She wanted to fight. She wanted to survive. Surely she wants to live for Monty? But it doesn’t seem like she does. Every plan they have had has failed. I get that, but they have to try right?

I hate that she wants to stay with Jasper and co (I’m actually quite happy that Riley is part of that group to be honest) and party until the world ends. Jasper is in this state of depression that is so opposite of what you’d think depression would look like. It makes me very unsettled. He’s accepted that he’s going to die. In fact he can’t wait for it to happen. For it all to be over.

My heart breaks most for Monty. His best friend and girlfriend would both rather die than spend the next 5 years with him. I can’t even imagine how that makes Monty feel. He has a reason to live. He has a purpose in the bunker. I guess he hoped that Jasper and Harper would see things the way he does but unfortunately they don’t.

Bellamy, Jaha and Monty tried to get them to come, but they realised there’s no use. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. At the end of the day, it’s their choice. And they are entitled to their own choice. No one else has any right to take that choice away from them.

I thought I was going crazy when I saw Wells. But I think they did briefly show him. Seeing him made Jaha change his mind about trying to make the choice for them. What he did to his son reminded him of the choice he made for his son and how that ended up.

Oh Raven. Seriously, when is Raven going to get a break. She’s having even more serious hallucinations now. She saw Becca. She talked to Becca. Her brain keeps deteriorating more and more. As she doesn’t have much time left, Becca suggests that she go out spacewalking. She may as well go out with a view right? Spacewalking was what Raven always wanted to do. It was her dream. Finn got arrested so that she could. It’s depressing that Raven is planning her death, but if she is going to die that would be the perfect way for her to go.

I loved Murphy in this episode. He was genuinely worried about Raven. He blames himself for what has happened to her. He apologised to her which is huge for Murphy. He is not one to ever apologise or admit to doing something wrong. Raven doesn’t blame him though. It was his fault that she can’t use her leg, but it’s because of being disabled that she’s become this strong. She doesn’t blame Murphy. She doesn’t hold a grudge against him.

Murphy and Raven hugging melted my heart! I never, ever thought I’d see the day when Raven and Murphy would hug. But it also broke my heart. The end of the world is near and Raven isn’t going to be in the bunker. She’s going to float herself. I couldn’t help but laugh when she said that, but then I imminently burst into tears. No. No no no. Raven can’t die. I won’t let her die. I won’t let her float herself. That scene broke my heart.

I loved when Emori was convinced that no one was coming to save them and they’d packed up everything and were leaving to go hide out in the light house. And then Miller and Jackson just turned up. Haha!! Their reactions were priceless!

Next episode seems like it’s going to be the Hunger Games. One person from each of the 13 clans fighting to the death in Polis (in this case I guess the whole of Polis is technically the arena). The winner gets to survive and their clan showered with wealth (well, they get to survive in the bunker which is pretty much the equivalent). Octavia is fighting for Skaikru. And if she dies (which I hope she doesn’t) at least she’ll die a warriors death which is what she wants. Luna is fighting for Floukru, although she’s the only one of them left so I’m not sure what she’ll do with the bunker if she wins. Roan is fighting for Azgeda. Lexa beat Roan and from what Luna says she’s an even better fighter than Lexa. So Roan probably doesn’t stand a chance. I hope that Indra isn’t fighting for Trikru. Because there is no way Octavia would be able to kill her.

Anyway I loved this episode and the next episode looks great too!!

[ofseaandsky]

New Fic - The Ties That Bind

A/N:

So this is something I’ve spent a few months now writing and polishing. It’s long, nearly 100K words at this point. I don’t have a number for how many chapters yet, because I’m still working out how I’m planning on splitting them up. It’s 90% done at this point which is why I’m comfortable starting to post it and I will finish it. It’s a slow burn because that’s the only way I see it ever really happening between these two. There will be smut later and apparently once they start, they don’t seem to want to stop, so there’s that. But I emphasize again, it’s a slow burn, there is quite a bit to get through before they get to that point.

Things I have decided to ignore:

1.     Science (insofar as Raven’s extra time buying solution wouldn’t work, but the show is pretty relaxed on how science works, so, sorry)

2.     Raven’s brain issue (it was a bit difficult to write in, but in theory it could be still happening in the background, but it’s not really relevant to the story so if you want to think she’s had it and solved it as she did on the show, that’s fine too. I’ve just not included it in the story)

3.     Translations of Azgedasleng/Trigedasleng (basically because I’m a bit lazy and I couldn’t get it to work naturally

4.     A couple of other thing which I won’t mention because Spoilers!

It’s set in 4x08 and goes off canon from that point forward. It’s unbeta’d so any mistakes are mine and I’m sorry. I try and catch them all, but it’s not always easy. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Clarke stared at the empty spot where the destroyed radiation chamber had once sat. There was no trace of it apart from a few glittering shards of glass on the ground and scuff marks from where it had caught the floor as Roan and Miller had pushed it out of the room. An empty broken tomb of possibilities no one could stand to look at any longer. Especially Clarke.

She was still furious at her mother for her impulsive decision that had essentially destroyed their last hope. Abby was already packing up the last of her supplies, preparing to return to Polis, an urgent call from Kane prompting her into action. Clarke had no idea what had rattled her so much, but the discussion had been had behind closed doors and she had been too busy reconciling the events of the previous day to snoop.

Clarke couldn’t shake the shiver of discomfort that raced through her bones like an electric shock. She rubbed her arms to ward of the chill trying to force life back into her extremities but the heavy weight of failure and the sharp, bitter taste in the back of her throat filled her veins with ice as she thought back to the grounder’s last painful jerks and spasms as he spewed black blood like an oil geyser. She wasn’t sure what made the shard of self-hatred twist deep in her heart more: the death of the morally questionable man or her own half-failure in part due to her mother’s fear. She had never felt less like a leader than she did today. The weight of responsibility over so many lives was dragging her down to the ground, the gravity of it all pulling her down and making it hard to straighten her spine and continue standing tall.

Roan approached, dressed once more in leather and furs, sword strapped at his side. She watched him as he moved toward her with determination she envied, confident in himself and what they were doing. Or had tried to do. He had extended that faith to her and she felt shame burn deep at how little she deserved his earlier praise. He didn’t swagger with false confidence; it was part of the set of his bones. He moved like he knew he could part the seas and expected everyone else to acknowledge it. He moved like a king.

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded physically trying to shake herself from her thoughts.  

It was time to move forward and hope that they would find something in the next week. If not, there was nothing left. They would all die. She couldn’t hold his gaze but felt him watching her closely as she cast her eyes about the room. She wanted so desperately to feel a measure of the hope she’d had when she plunged the needle in her arm. She knew that had been the right thing to do, but it had all been for nothing.

“I just want to say goodbye to Raven,” she said and he followed quietly behind her, standing a distance away. He was still a little awed at the technology the bunker housed but hid it well, especially to those who didn’t know him well. Clarke had seen the brief flicker of pride on his face as she pulled the needle from her arm and thought she may read him better than many. Like recognized like after all.

“We’re heading back to Polis,” Clarke said, walking up behind her friend as she furiously scanned the data on the screens before her. She looked over at the world map; a series of bright red squares highlighting all the known locations of nuclear power stations and was overwhelmed by the visual representation of what was to come. Death didn’t come quietly it seemed. It raged against them and had the audacity to brandish its colors as it rode toward them.

“Yeah, okay,” the dark-haired mechanic said, not looking up.

Clarke sighed. She didn’t want to leave on such bad terms. There had been no other choice but to test nightblood the way they did, but she knew it had brought back memories that Raven was none too happy to revisit. Too many people died at Mount Weather for the sake of the human race. Too many more would die soon and she was helpless to stop it and too angry to mourn what was to come.

Raven turned to Clarke abruptly; she looked equal parts disappointed and proud. It was an expression that would have looked odd on anyone else. She studied her friend for a long moment, before rolling her eyes and pulling her into a hug. Clarke gripped her tightly, relieved in the small show of forgiveness.

“I found a way to redirect the existing solar power grid structure to continue cooling the reactor cores on this continent,” she said gruffly pulling back from her gently.

“What does that mean?” Clarke asked and just like that the spark that had been extinguished was flickering again deep behind her sternum.

“Another two months before radiation levels get unlivable,” Raven said, a little excitement flowing into her words. “Depending on the jet stream and how quickly levels rise in Russia.”

“That’s amazing,” Clarke sagged with relief. She looked over to where Roan waited by the staircase and surprised him with a dazzling smile. He frowned at her, but the corner of his mouth turned up just a fraction.

“It won’t mean anything unless we can find a solution,” the mechanic snapped, glaring at her with a hard look. “One that doesn’t involve any more human experimentation.”

“We will do everything we can. We’ll find a way,” Clarke said with a nod and just like that the steel returned to her spine. She needed a minute to think. Two months. They would surely be able to find something in two months.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything else,” the anger had drained from Raven’s tone and Clarke shot her a small smile.

“Thank you,” the blonde said. “If anyone can, it’s you Rae.”

Raven nodded and turned back to the monitor before her, dismissing Clarke to continue searching through the data. Nightblood may still offer a solution if only they could tweak the formula. And Clarke had already given a bone marrow samples for them to work with when Luna once again refused. It may not be perfect, but there was a chance. There was a little spring in her step as she joined Roan at the foot of the stairs.

“Our resident genius bought us two more months,” she grinned up at the king, her mouth still stuck in a stupidly wide grin. His eyes shot over her shoulder to look at where Raven was pointedly ignoring them, the quirk of his lips expanding into what could passably be called a smile. There was a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there before and Clarke would have bet it was hope.

It was time to head back to Polis.

 The little optimism Clarke had left Raven with had all but been destroyed as she watched the warrior king stare down Indra and her fellow tribal leaders. The groundwork was being laid for a war no one could afford to fight. She wondered at what cruel joke was being played on her and their fellow survivors. She wanted to scream and rip the world apart with her rage. She felt it vibrating fiercely in her hands and had to clench her fists to make them stop shaking.

“We talked,” Roan said, looking at her significantly before he turned and left the bunker. She couldn’t stomach watching him leave.

Clarke felt bile make a home at the back of her throat once more. Her heart was shaking in her chest, fury at the unfairness of the fates conspiring against her making her want to explode and shower the world in her pitch and gore. This was not the end; she refused to let it be. She would rage against the coming darkness. She would not go gently into the night and let her people, grounders and Skaikru alike, slaughter each other when they could work together. Not this time.

“Indra,” Clarke turned to her sometime ally. “You cannot seriously want a war instead of the chance to survive!”

“It is the way it must be, Wanheda,” the other woman squared her shoulders and made to turn and walk away.

“Is there anything that can be done? Apart from war?” Clarke didn’t like the defeated edge her tone had. “You know that at best this will kill as many of your people as it will theirs. Probably more.”

“It is our way,” she repeated, but there was a flicker of doubt on her face. Clarke hadn’t even shared the extended timeline with anyone save Roan. Not even her mother knew. She would hold fast to that information until the very end.

“If there was someone that could unite the clans behind them?” Clarke pressed, casting a look at the warriors behind her.

“There is no longer a Commander to lead our people,” a bearded man said gruffly.

“I know,” she said urgently. “I’m begging you please, attend one more summit, with all the clans. If no agreement can be reached there, you can go to war.”

“I fail to see what that will accomplish,” Indra said eyes already burning with the promise of violence and war.

“Maybe nothing,” Clarke said, frustrated. “But if nothing else it will get more of your people in place to fight.”

“And more of theirs,” a woman interjected. The warriors looked firm in their resolve. Clarke thought quickly, they needed a leader not a child begging on their knees.

“You will need Skaikru to help you live in this bunker,” she changed tactics, it was time to pull out her Wanheda persona. “The tech is too complicated for you to learn. You will not survive without us, not in the time we have left.”

“You are willing to sacrifice your own people for Azgeda?” Indra asked appalled, but there was the slightest crack in her tone that spoke of uncertainty.

“I gave my word and I want everyone to see reason,” she said, her voice strong, shoulders thrown back, face cold and blank. “I am willing to do what it takes for everyone to survive. You will need Azgeda when that bunker door opens.”

“We will never need Azgeda,” a large man scoffed dangerously, spitting on the ground by his feet. But Indra watched her intrigued and the blonde pressed on.

“When that bunker door opens,” Clarke continued, staring down each of the Trikru warriors present, letting the righteous fire burning in her belly to shine through her eyes. “There will be nuclear winter. We may not see the sun clearly for years. The land will be cold and harsh, beyond anything you have seen. Beyond anything most of the clans have known to survive. Except Azgeda.”

“Why should we believe anything you say, Wanheda?” the same warrior from before took a challenging step forward.

“Because I want us all to survive,” she said firmly. “It is what I have always wanted us to do. Build a future together. Help each other. Survive together. It is what my father died for. If it comes to it, it is what I will die for. I was willing to just hours ago.”

Clarke stood tall, facing them as she would a whole army of warriors. Indra looked at her for a long moment, and she knew she was being evaluated. Dark eyes roamed over her face and Clarke held her breath with her chin raised and blue eyes filled with determination.

“If King Roan will call the summit,” she said slowly, ignoring the rumble of disagreement behind her.  “Trikru will attend.”

“That is all I ask,” Clarke said and left the bunker as quickly as she could manage. Now she just had to convince Roan to try one more time. As soon as she cleared the bunker doors she shook the tremors from her limbs and flexed her fingers. She was shaking but used the adrenaline of the half won fight to drive her up the stairs to the king’s chambers.

 “Wanheda kom Skaikru,” a guard announced as she entered the king’s chambers. Clarke had been surprised she hadn’t met with any resistance when she asked to speak to Roan. Echo glared at her as she entered and Clarke thought she saw Roan’s shoulders drop with a sigh. She wasn’t sure why that made her stomach clench in sympathy.

“What do you want, Clarke?” he said, pressing his hands down on the table. “I am preparing for war.”

He sounded more defeated than she had ever heard him as he stared down at a table filled with parchment and maps, hands heavy on the edge of the table. Clarke knew he wanted to work together but the look in his eyes as he faced the Trikru warriors and her own people when they reached the outskirts of Polis was one she would relieve for a long time. It had cut deeply into her though she did the best to warn him. She wouldn’t claim to feel as betrayed as he did, but she was certainly not running into the waiting arms of Skaikru any time soon.

“I have come to ask you to call the summit,” she said, eyeing Echo as the warrior scoffed. Her beautiful features were twisted in anger and her eyes were hot with rage and suppressed violence. It was obvious she didn’t like or trust Clarke and was just looking for an excuse to unleash her violence.

“The king will not place himself in such a position,” she said venomously, a hand on her sword. Her body was coiled like a snake ready to strike. The only thing that kept Clarke’s well-deserved fear of her in check was the deep loyalty Echo had displayed time and time again. She wouldn’t strike without the order and Clarke still trusted Roan.

“Echo,” Roan interjected after a moment. “Let her speak.”

Clarke maintained eye contact with Echo as she fell back. She wished she were having this discussion with Roan alone, but it appeared he was not about to offer her that trust. She supposed she couldn’t blame him all things considered, but the pang of hurt didn’t come as a surprise.

“I convinced Indra to bring Trikru to the summit,” Clarke explained, approaching him. “She promised she would come and hear us out.”

“Us?” the king straightened and turned toward her. His blue eyes were guarded and cold and glittered like ice.

“Yes, us,” she emphasized. “We are in this together. And you know it.”

“We tried talking,” he crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement. He looked imposing and untouchable and Clarke swallowed against the knot of fear in her throat. She tried to focus on the faith that he had always seemed to extend her; she just had to find a way to encourage it.

“I need you to try one more time,” she said, reaching forward to lay a hand on his crossed arms. She saw Echo move closer and her eyes wearily flickered over to where she stood.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said. “And you are in no position to ask it of me.”

“I never betrayed you,” she said, feeling her heart race behind her sternum and allowed a little of her fear of him to slip into her expression. “I stood by you and honored our agreement. No one told me about the bunker. They lied to me because they knew I would never stand for it.”

“I believe you, it is why you are free now, but your people do not inspire my faith,” he trailed off, implication hanging heavily in the air, but didn’t back away.

 She felt the heat of him under her hand and recalled the feel of his body pressed against her back, cold knife to her throat, as she trusted him to hold his hands steady. The last whispered ‘run’ before he pulled her behind him, attempting to grant her escape while knowingly sacrificing himself. She focused on the memory and leaned closer.

“They pursued a dream and found the only help available,” she emphasized. “And Jaha thinks he has more power than he does.”

“That does not reassure me, Clarke,” he countered, arms flexing and firm under her touch.

“I risked my life to save yours, because I have faith in you,” she said softly, trying for a little privacy for her confession. “I would have given it up in that radiation chamber, too to save us all. I trusted you then and I still trust you now. Please, give this one more chance.”

His eyes glittered down at her, his brows drawn in a harsh frown, making his features even sharper. She felt the puff of his breath against her face as he watched her silently, evaluating. The heat radiating off of him made her want to both press closer to stave off her fear-borne chills and step away knowing she was encroaching too close into his personal space. Too close to the fire in him that drew her in so strongly and called to a part of her she hardly knew. She waited silently heart thumping heavily in her chest.

“Please, Roan,” she pleaded softly, squeezing his forearm gently, and his eyes softened just a fraction. “I swear if this doesn’t work, I won’t stand in the way of your war. And when you win, I will convince Skaikru to help you survive in that bunker. But that is not the way I want to do this. And I don’t think you do either.”

The silence hung heavily in the room after her promise. She hadn’t meant to play to his pride, but she didn’t doubt Azgeda would easily defeat Trikru and take the bunker. They outnumbered Trikru nearly five to one from what she had seen but it wouldn’t make for an easy survival in the confines of the bunker. There needed to be trust between the survivors otherwise they may end up killing each other before a year was up.

“Call the summit,” he instructed, Echo visibly balked as if she had been physically struck, but nodded and left them alone in the room. “Either way this discussion ends tonight.”

“Thank you,” she said as her breath left her in a great rush of relief and removed her hand from him. He watched her take a step back with a look that seemed to cut straight through her. One she was growing familiar with from the stoic king.

“Your Chancellor may attend if you do,” Roan continued, moving back to the table. He turned to lean his back against it and faced her in a way that was probably meant to be casual, but there was nothing casual about the king of the Ice Nation.

“I will,” she agreed, unsure what to say now that she found herself alone with the dark haired man.

“How do you plan to convince them?” He asked, challenging her with a raised brow.

“I’ll tell them everything we know about praimfaya, the probable timeline, that we have hopes that nightblood will be a workable solution, the room we have in the bunker,” she said, wondering what he was really asking. She had nothing else to offer, and could only hope that the clans would be willing to work together. It was the only way to guarantee that the human race would have a hope of making it through what was coming.

“And when they want to declare war on each other for the bunker?” Roan prodded, and she realized he had already run through probable scenarios in his head.

“I hope they will understand that they need each other,” she answered defiantly, knowing she was being naïve. He was watching her still, his eyes flashing enigmatically at her impassioned responses.

“The clans will need more than your words, Clarke,” he admonished softly, but not gently. “We cannot abandon our ways for yours because you wish it.”

“I’m expecting everyone to see reason,” she argued. “Surely they will once we tell them what we can offer. Skaikru has the knowledge to survive in the bunker, but each clan has knowledge that will help us after.”

“And they will understand that they need Skaikru, but no other, and even then they could kill you all once they learn how to operate the technology.  They will work together if you give them reason to trust in the Coalition. They cannot feel that they are sacrificing their own people to do what Skaikru or Azgeda or Trikru want. They need to feel they are a part of the plan, an essential part holding the whole together,” he continued, watching her.

“Working together is the only way humanity stands a chance. They are an essential part based on that alone. War will not solve anything at this point. We can offer an equal share of space in the bunker, we may even find more in the time we have left,” she said and thought back to the folded piece of paper tucked away in her belongings that burned her fingers every time they strayed over the already worn edges. She would not back down from this, it was too important. Surely, she could get through to at least one person.

“You never listen, Wanheda,” he exhaled in a rare show of irritation; the dismissive use of her title evidence of how far she was pushing his patience.

“I am listening!” she said, frustrated, taking the last remaining steps so she stood right in front of him. “I have been doing nothing but listen, we need to act! We can’t keep talking circles around each other. We have weeks left, maybe a couple of months if we’re lucky.”

“I agree,” he said, not phased by her sudden proximity. “And by allowing some concession to our ways the ambassadors will listen and choose those best suited for surviving what is coming. It would ensure humanity’s best chance at survival. And those who choose not to will be left to their fate.”

“What do you suggest?” she asked finally, and was rewarded with a small smile. This was the concession he had been waiting for.

“The clans will require blood,” he answered simply, sitting up a little straighter now that he knew he had her attention.

“More bloodshed?” Clarke asked, repulsed. “That is what we’re trying to avoid.”

“Blood oaths, Clarke,” he interrupted her before she could start venting her frustration. He held up the palm of his right hand where the wound from their initial oath was still pink and barely healed. Her own hand twinged in sympathy of their shared pain.

“Oaths?” she asked, frowning.

“And strategic marriage alliances,” he added and Clarke was hard pressed to define the look in his eyes. It seemed she had been too early to deem herself at all competent at reading him.

“Marriages?” She didn’t know what marriages would do to keep the peace but if a few marriages between the clans would ensure survival it seemed a small price to pay.

“Between kru people of similar standing that connect the clans who agree to the alliance,” he added, watching her mind work through the problem. “It would require a week of celebration, which I know you will object to, but it is the only way I see the clans coming to an accord.”

Clarke desperately wanted to object and had to forcibly bite down on her tongue to stop herself. Roan was watching her closely, an air of nonchalance that was a little too unaffected. She may not know every look he leveled on her, but after spending time with the reluctant monarch she felt she had started to understand when there was more behind his words. He had already weighted the merits of the other strategies and found this one to be the one most likely to work that much was becoming obvious. He had been silent most of the trip back to Polis, and Clarke had assumed that had been mainly due to her mother’s presence in the back of the rover, but maybe he had been running through probabilities.

“And this would unite the clans? Enough to buy us the time we need to prepare? Find a way to share that bunker?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yes,” he replied.

“So we arrange a few marriages to intermix the clans, have a big party and that’s that?” she couldn’t help the disbelief that slipped into her tone as she folded her arms across her chest. Roan straightened to tower over her. She raised her chin to maintain eye contact.

“If you are trying to insult me it won’t work, Wanheda. Especially so soon after you’ve admitted you trust me. I don’t take such declarations lightly. Marriage is uncommon for many clans and basically unheard of between kru, this would bind them to each other by blood. Blood bonds are sacred and held above all else,” he explained, his voice a low rumble and face blank.

“And how do we decide who enters into these arranged marriages?” she asked, turning the problem over in her mind. She already knew it would be unpopular with Skaikru but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Anyone entering these alliances must be willing. Your clan becomes their clan. Their clan becomes yours. It is no small burden to bear,” he looked over her shoulder briefly before returning his gaze to hers.

“So we bring this proposal to the summit and see who is willing,” she nodded, conceding to take a step back. “Those who are will be offered nightblood, if we get that solution to work, and any resources we manage to find, including the bunker, evenly distributed between the different krus.”

“That is acceptable,” he stated, placing the bone coronet on his dark hair, resuming the persona of King of Azgeda once more. A mask fell over his features as his eyes shuttered and sharpened. It made him look so much colder and she shivered under his scrutiny. A sharp knock on the door signaled the Summit was assembled.

“Who will you need from Skaikru? And how many?” she asked as she turned to leave. “We do not have an established monarchy or a warrior hierarchy.”

“I would think that at least one would be obvious, Wanheda,” he replied, his cold mask slipping into a smirk as he donned his cloak in preparation for the meeting with the gathered leaders and ambassadors.

Clarke slowly froze in shock, realizing the implication of the words immediately. She would be top of the list for her people, another in a long line of sacrifices she continued to make since that overheard conversation between her parents. It felt like time slowed and stilled, the world around her sharpening as the air was sucked out of her lungs. She wasn’t one to let others fly into battle on her behalf, but a part of her, a deep secret part of her, shuddered at the thought of politically motivated marriage especially since odds were she would never have met her groom to be before. The thought made her stomach twist and she focused on the scuffed toes of her boots.

“And who holds similar standing to the Commander of Death?” she spat the question, not daring to meet his eyes in fear of seeing humour, or worse, pity in them.

“I would suggest perhaps only a king,” Roan replied, an edge to his tone she couldn’t understand. When her head shot up in surprise to look at him, all she saw was his back as he left his chamber for the ambassador’s summit in the throne room. She felt like she knew less than she had going in but knew that something monumental had shifted. She only hoped it was in the right direction.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered, doing her best to school her features into the indifferent mask of the Wanheda when it felt like the floor had disappeared from under her feet. She trusted Roan, didn’t she? Suddenly she wasn’t so sure.

[sueboohscorner]

The 100 409 Recap “DNR” #The100

Episode Grade: 8

Octavia must have enjoyed her roll in the cave with Ilian because she’s hanging out on his farm. He has a weird hippie notion that there’s a purpose to planting crops, because the world might eventually be reborn from the ashes, and these seeds could have a chance to thrive. This seems kind of dumb, but everything Ilian says and does seem kind of dumb to me. Octavia is willing to play along for a little while because she’s got nothing better to do, I guess, and maybe because she thinks pacifism could be worth a try, after everything. 

Of course, that won’t last long, because some of Ilian’s clan show up to kill the legendary Skairipa. That goes about as well for them as you’d think.

Did you want Skairipa? You got her.

Murphy and Emori stayed behind on the island to keep an eye on Raven, whose visions of Becca are getting more and more intense. As Raven talks to her imaginary friend, Emori talks to Murphy about her suspicion that his people have abandoned them and won’t be coming back to see them across the water to the bunker. Because Murphy is as accustomed to being unwanted as Emori is, and Raven’s deteriorating condition makes it less certain the others would return for her, this rings true to him. 

When Miller and Jackson actually do show up, apologizing for the delay, the look of hopefulness that dawns in Emori’s eyes is genuinely touching.

What kept Miller and Jackson so long on the journey, of course, is our A story. They’d been on the mission to return to Polis with Abby, Clarke, and Roan. The Polis mission was about the bunker, and both Clarke and Roan believed this journey would end with an equitable and honorable agreement on the clans’ sharing the bunker, which is large enough and sufficiently equipped to house the entire human population as it stands. 

As you may have guessed, it’s not going to be honorable, equitable, or an agreement. Kane and Indra had apparently agreed in advance that Azgeda must be shut out. Kind of disappointed in Kane for betraying the alliance with Azgeda, but I get it, Trikru holds the bunker entrance, so they have the upper hand. 

At least Clarke’s reaction is a legitimate surprise at the change of plans, so Roan doesn’t immediately stop trusting her. They arrange a meeting with Indra, hoping to work this out. No such luck, naturally, but it brings Clarke face-to-face with Gaia. She confronts Gaia with the secret that the Flame still exists, then reveals her new Nightblood status. Gaia’s whole purpose in life is to see the Flame bring a new Commander into being, so she’s in.

It’s a good plan. Clarke recognizes that a Commander’s proper Ascension will reunite the clans, at least to the degree they’ve ever been united, and then she would have the authority to keep them from killing each other over a survival plan that could save them all in the first place.

But of course, it won’t go down that way, because Abby’s an over-protective mother (and tbh, kind of a bitch). Roan challenges the Ascension, and Abby’s only too happy to help him because she’s not 100% sure that her Nightblood gene therapy would enable Clarke to survive the Flame… but I think she doesn’t want Clarke to be the Commander because that’s a deadly job. 

Abby announces to the gathered clan leaders that the Nightblood therapy was a scientific achievement, not a natural phenomenon, and because they’re a bunch of superstitious religious fanatics, this is blasphemy. Never mind that Becca Pramheda did the same thing to herself and the earliest generation of Nightbloods! Which is also, of course, evidence that Clarke would have been just fine if she’d received the Flame. Abby, you suck.

Roan declares that there must be no Ascension, but there can be a final conclave instead. Past conclaves have been about eliminating Nightbloods until only one is left standing to take the Flame; this conclave will be a battle royale in which each clan sends a champion to fight for that clan’s right to survive. The winner gets the bunker, and the other clans all just die outside. Azgeda, you’re the worst.

Back at Arkadia, Jasper has gathered a suicide squad to party while the end comes. They’re not interested in going to the bunker, and Bellamy prevails on Jaha to walk away, pointing out that Jaha sent these kids down to die anyway, so it’s not up to him to tell them they can’t die now. Harper joins them, and Monty sticks around to be with her and try to talk her out of it.

Raven’s Becca visions have encouraged her to go into space and breathe her last in zero-g. It seems that she’s going to die, either way, so she might as well seek a final moment of comfort and peace. She tells Murphy how hard it is to live in pain, and he honestly apologizes for his part in causing her chronic pain. She kindly absolves him and sends him away with a hug and a smile. 

This episode was kind of frustrating, honestly. It had some great moments, but it also had a bizarre amount of completely unnecessary shaky-cam (did this episode’s director used to work on Colony, for Pete's sake?). 

Are you as glad to see Octavia return to her true self as I am? I admit, there’s serious Ilian distaste informing my opinion there, but also, she’s a complete badass. Pacifist Octavia would be the ultimate waste.

[hedaswarrior]

Season 4 t100 theories

fyi. I won’t be making a lot of theories. Don’t expect me to do what I did for season 3. Also, please don’t get your hopes up for any of the things I have written.

I have received several asks about the “A Look at Season 4″ and things I have seen in the trailers. I do have theories about what could happen, like I can’t just “shut it off”.  As you guys know, if you were following me, I had theories back in May 2016 about them making a serum to help them survive radiation levels. I do still think that this is the only possible “scenarios” that would make sense. But this show does seem to not make sense more often then not. However, there is one shot of bellamy holding a light thingy and clarke holding two flashlights with Jaha next to them that I can see roots sprouting out from the walls, so that makes me believe that they could possibly have found another underground bunker. Maybe one that has and underwater aquifer that is protected from the acid rain and radiation from above. Possibly this “bunker” is underneath ALIE’s Mansion? (i’m not giving up them reusing this location!!! as you will see if you continue reading)

Okay, you can read more below if you want more tidbit of things that i see could happen from viewing the trailers and “look at”. This is just me jotting down things and they might not make sense, but I don’t want to put a lot of effort into theorizing any more. 

In the beginning of the season it will of course pick up right where it left off and the big issue is the ending of the world. Kenza (the nightblood scout) will show up and Clarke will hand over the Flame to her or something. Titus’s lair will be ransacked as they possibly look for the Flame.

Echo will be in Polis and she will help convince Roan to take over Polis, without the Flame. However, they are going to have “trial by combat” to see which clan will be the Commander now that the Flame and Nightblood criterial no longer is needed. Each Clan has a warrior and they “fight to the death” to see who is the Leader. I think this might be the “gladiatorial fights” we see. Each person we see has a pendant of their clan, Roan has azgeda, Octavia has skaikru, etc.  

Jaha is going to go through this “obsession” period of feeling he needs to atone for his sins. He killed Ontari and carries her body out to the streets to the pyre to be burned with the others. Jaha is facing guilt for bringing this all upon everyone, but has particular guilt about murdering ontari. He is inside the polis tower, and the grounders end up attacking him wanting him to pay for what he has brought upon them. “Blood must have blood”. Either then or in Arkadia Jaha is attacked again for bringing this upon them all and Kane finds where they took Jaha and basically yells and points his gun at everyone to not touch him.

Clarke and the Skaikru start doing experiments on the infected grounders to figure out what is going on. That is why Monty gets made at Clarke and says to stop using the excuse “it’s all for her people”. I think that Luna gets there with her people and all of them start dying off, but her. why is she unique? she is a nightblood. Her blood and the antigens it has that protects it from the flame also gives her increased immunity to the radiation. We saw Becca come down to earth when the radiation levels were VERY VERY high and she was able to live in those conditions and take her hazmat suite off. This would then connect Becca’s story and the Nightbloods back up with the show.

There is one “mission” where Bellamy, Miller, Bryan, Monty and Harper go in to where Farm station fell -- Bryan shows them the way. They are going to Farm station to get some “medicine” or instrument. I’m assuming that Farm station they had instruments that could manufacture medicines from plants they grew. Monty is there because his parents worked on Farm Station and knows what they are looking for. We see him with an axe breaking the chain on something. This might be to the cage that people are stuck in though. However, before that, i think they are ambushed by Azegeda as they are over looking the hill. Harper has a sword to her neck and Bellamy is hit across the face. I think they wake up and see that Azgeda has now used it as a possible prison of enslaved workers?  there are people in the background of shots that look scared while the delinquents are attacking Azegeda warriors. They then set up a device that detonates.

There is a group of people Abby, Jackson, Miller, Raven, Murphy, Jackson, Luna, etc. that head to ALIE’s mansion. They take Emori’s boat to ALIE’s island and are ambushed by ALIE’s drones that are still protecting the Island from invaders. They are now in constant attack mode to protect the island. There is a shot of the drone thermal imaging that shows them running away from it. It is the drone that shoots at Raven in the trailer. There is also a shot of Bellamy inside the jeep and shooting at something, i think that is a drone. I think it would be cool if Raven’s plan is to somehow hack into the security system in ALIE’s mansion to use the attack drones to their benefit. I think it would be cool if they gain control of them and use them as weapons. They then use them to help ambush the Azegeda army that is marching towards Arkadia. When Clarke is standing in front of the Azegda army in the ravine she is basically trapping them so that there is no where for them to hide and they are going to use the drones to attack them. There is a scene of the Azegeda warriors looking up at the sky and look frightened...that might be the drones. Or it is just that there are warriors surrounding them from up above...but that is not nearly as cool.

When they get to ALIE’s mansion they see that there is a lab in it -- one of Becca’s labs. It is Becca and Chris’s house that they put ALIE in. They owned the Lighthouse bunker as well. The blue room that we see in the trailer is the Lab inside of ALIE’s mansion. That is where we see Murphy yelling at Clarke and Murphy and Emori kissing.

As mentioned before, i think there might be a “larger bunker” possibly on the mansion island. That is the scene that we see Bellamy, Clarke and Jaha in. I think that those three meet up with the others on ALIE’s island at some point. Jaha knows the way there.

And there is other stuff i have thought of, but writing all this out is exhausting and i’m kinda “over it?”

My other theory suff i have written for s4 are in [THIS TAG]

[cutekitten6]

EDIT 30/08/2017

I MADE THIS DURING SEASON 4a AND IM SCREAMING AT HOW CLOSE I AM TO WHAT EVENTUALLY HAPPENED. I wanted/predicted for time skip, bellamy and clarke being separated for a long period of time, and for someone to become a parent. someone call the police because i think jason rothenberg stole my ideas.

You know what I want in some future of the 100? A ginormous time skip.

I’m not talking like 3 months or even 3 years. I mean I want like at least a 10 year skip. That way the characters can age to their respective actors ages, and also show how some relationships have developed in the time passed.

There are a multitude of things to develop, and just to mention right now, this benefits bellarke.

We open to the fact that Clarke has been living in Polis for several years now. There’s been a lasting peace between the clans ever since prime fire returned, since it was decided enough people had died. Rowan was placed as in promptu leader of Polis until more nightblood children appear, as was the original deal.

Things on Arkadia are fine as they are. It took a while, but they managed to fix the damage Ilian made. Not only is the fallen ship now fixed, but they managed to make several well constructed housing for the steadily growing population.

Marcus Kane is no longer Chancellor, with a younger man taking his place. Not that he minds really, Kane is pretty tired and just wants to live comfortably after all the stress. Abby still works in Med Bay, and sometimes he visits her just to offer assistance. He often travels to Polis to check in on Clarke and Roan. Several years after Prime Fire, he and Abby got married, which started the wave of youngsters of rushing into marriages. It was one of the last times Clarke visiting Arkadia.

Raven has her own house outside of the ship, mostly for convenience sake because everything around in arms reach. She spends time with Abby when she can, and with Murphy. Having Emori around to talk to and relate with helps her, especially since there is nobody else on Arkadia who is disabled or deformed. She helped construct guidelines for reconstruction of the ship.

Octavia took several years before she felt like she could properly return to Skaikru. Hanging out with Jasper only fueled her hate for her brother, since after all, they had eerily similar experiences. But Monty reached out, and she found his forgiving nature influencing her for the better. Eventually, she came to forgive Bellamy and realised that it wasn’t his fault.

The person we explore in this time jump last is Bellamy, and it opens with a small girl running around calling him papa.

Bellamy Blake still has a guard’s room aboard the ship, only now it is decorated with awful drawings, which he will defend that they are beautiful. In the corner where the study table once was is a crib. He’s one of the head honchos of the Guards and is considered to be a highly respectably figure in Arkadia. His daughter, although unbeknown to us at first, is not actually his. She has slight asian features which leads us to think she is his.

We find out that he and Clarke have drifted apart. Not because of any argument or lovers spat (because they never hooked up), but rather because of their hectic schedules. Clarke is fairly busy in Polis as Skaikru’s ambassador, and Bellamy is fairly busy with being a guard. Letters and calls between them became less frequent, and one day it just stopped.

Octavia loves babysitting her niece, play-fighting with sticks instead of swords.

(this is where i stopped) (please kick me in the face im actually screaming)