#I saw the writing on the wall for bellarke and it turned out I was right

[terriblegam2r]

If I had a nickel for every time an FX show turned me into a clown I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

[kay-emm-gee]

just one more chance (to put my arms in fragile hands) (1/?)

Pairing: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin Rating: Mature || wc: ~1.7k Summary: Mechastation is going on tour, but they're missing one key member--a manager. Clarke steps in to help them out of a tight spot, but given her messy professional and romantic history with Bellamy, their lead singer, they may be headed for even more trouble than they are already in. Still, the show must go on, and as they try to work together, maybe, just maybe, the two of them are headed for an encore.

a/n: I am (somewhat) back on my Bellarke bullshit, and this idea has been banging around in my head for a few months now. Though I do have a whole series of scenes planned out, I have zero set plans about when I'm adding more. I'm trying to be gentle with myself as I get back into writing after a few years away, so having fun and taking it slow is the goal :)

* * * *

Clarke couldn’t help but pace up and down the hallway of Arkadia Records as she listened to the murmurs inside the conference room. She had already tried to occupy herself by reciting the names of bandmembers for each record framed on the wall. Raven had entered only ten—Clarke checked her watch wait, make that eleven—minutes ago. There hadn’t been any raised voices yet, so she must still be lining up their pitch to make Clarke their temporary band manager. Mechastation was about to head out on tour, short a manager due to an ‘unresolvable conflict’ with their previous one, as the press release had stated.

‘A hot mess of a coworkers-with-benefits relationship turned sour’ was what the tabloids had called it. Whatever it was, Clarke knew it had to have been pretty bad for Raven to have taken her call. She had expected to be completely ignored when she had risked reaching out to suggest that she step into the role. And yet, here she was, waiting to see if Raven would be able to convince her bandmates to take her on.

As she straightened dress yet again, Clarke realized silence had fallen in the room. Immediately, she steeled herself and just barely managed not to flinch as the door handle wrenched open.

And there he was: Bellamy Blake, lead vocalist of Mechastation, Rolling Stones hottest musician two years running, and mythology buff (though few knew that last fact). His brown eyes widened when he saw her standing in his way, and she felt her gut tighten as his whole expression slowly hardened.

And now on with the show.

Taking in a steadying breath, Clarke met his stormy expression with a tight, calm smile. She studiously ignored the way her stomach flipped at seeing in the flesh after nearly eight years apart. All of that didn’t matter now— at least that was what she kept telling herself.

His jaw clenched, and she pretended not to notice the whitening of his knuckles as he gripped the door handle tighter.

“Hear her out, Bellamy,” Raven called out from somewhere behind him.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, but then another voice unfamiliar to Clarke spoke.

“After Echo, you owe us, jackass.”

She prepared herself for Bellamy to lash out, but surprisingly, he stayed silent. After a beat, he turned slowly and retreated back into the room. Clarke immediately followed. She wouldn’t put it past him to barricade the door behind her.

Raven was standing by her chair across the conference room table, with Miller sitting to her left. To her right were two band members who Clarke recognized from their promotional material but whom she had never met. They had joined after—after Mechastation had been dropped by her mother’s label, after her and Bellamy’s spectacular implosion.

Bellamy had retreated to the far end of the room. He was back-to, staring out at the cityscape visible from the floor-to-ceiling windows with hunched shoulders.

“This is Clarke,” Raven said as she pulled out her chair to sit again. “You know Miller. This is Murphy, our drummer, and Emori, who manages all things stage and touring.”

Clarke gave them a professional smile as she approached the table. Miller gave her a curt nod before getting up to go to Bellamy. Not unfriendly, but not all that welcoming. Raven rolled her eyes, seemingly not worried about him.

Clarke tried to ignore her own concerns. She took a deep breath. “Nice to meet you all.”

Murphy gave her a leisurely once-over then tipped his head in acknowledgement. Emori did the same.

Tough crowd, Clarke thought, but she also knew it could’ve been worse. At least she had made it into the room.

“You’ll be working with Emori most closely for the tour. She’s the best thing that happened to us. Frankly it’s the only reason we tolerate Murphy’s bullshit, because if he goes, she goes.”

“Aw, love you too, Reyes,” Murphy drawled. Clarke realized he was the one who had called Bellamy a jackass earlier. They really must want to keep Emori, she thought wryly, if Bellamy put up with that attitude. Either that, or he had learned patience in the years since they had been together.

Raven ignored him. “She keeps Jordan and Green in check, so she’s worth ten times her weight in platinum albums.”

“Monty and Jasper are still with you?” Clarke asked, delighted. She had always had a soft spot for the goofy but sweet roadies for Mechastation.

“Yes,” Raven said with a fondly exasperated smile.

“Someone decided to promote those two idiots to be in charge of our lights and sound,” Murphy grumbled. “Never have I seen so many fires and explosions on a single tour leg. Walking disasters, the both of them.”

“And yet your sound is always impeccable and you rarely complain about how you’re lit,” Emori commented dryly.

Murphy shot her a dirty look, which made Emori grin widely. Raven shrugged her shoulders as if to say, see?

Emori broke her staring match with Murphy to address Clarke. “I can handle those two fine, but I’ll be honest, having an extra hand around who knows them is going to be a relief.”

The vise around Clarke’s chest eased a bit. Another band member seemed to be on her side.

Murphy spoke up next. “If it means Emori has to spend less of her time wrangling those imbeciles, then sure, it’s a yes from me.”

Raven closed her eyes briefly in relief. She turned to the two remaining members, and Clarke risked a glance in their direction as well. Miller was leaning against the window, arms crossed over his chest. Bellamy still refused to face them.

“Miller?” Raven prompted tightly.

He shrugged a single shoulder without giving anything away in his expression.

“Miller.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He and Raven stared each other down for a few moments before he sighed.

“I can cast a vote or whatever the fuck you want, but does it really matter?”

As usual, the most stoic member of Mechastation had boiled the problem at hand down to its essential core: even if everyone else was a yes, the only vote that really mattered was Bellamy’s.

Sensing the focus drawing in on him, he rolled his shoulders jerkily. The silence from him stretched, and so did the tension. Heart pounding in her chest, Clarke knew this was the make or break moment. It was time to make her case.

She could recite all of the praise and big-name-endorsements that she had received in the last year. She could choose to list the accolades and achievements she had accumulated in a shockingly short amount of time, even for someone who had been born and bred into the industry. She could tell him—all of them—exactly how qualified she was for this position.

None of it would matter, though, not in this case. For this position, they needed someone they could trust, and she had lost Bellamy’s trust a long time ago.

And so she said as much.

“You need a manager. Yesterday. I’m not saying I’m the best manager for you to have.” She heard Raven make a small, panicked noise, but she held up her hand. “What I’m saying is I’m the best manager for you to have for now. Your tour starts in a week, and you need someone who knows your band. I used to know you, so I at least have a leg up on other potential candidates. I know where you’ve been, and I know where you are going, or trying to, with this tour. I’ve read every interview each of you has given in the last year, listened to each album, each recorded live performance released by your label and every one on YouTube as well. I’m good at my job, and I know this band, at least as well as any other potential manager.”

She took a deep breath, and made her closing argument.

“You don’t have to trust me, Bellamy. You just have to trust that I will act in your best interests.” She paused, then hastily amended, “In the band’s best interests.”

His voice was tighter than a guitar string when he responded. “Your family doesn’t have a stellar track record of acting in my family’s best interests.”

Swallowing down her regret and just a bit of anger, Clarke calmly replied, “I am not my mother. Give me this chance to prove you wrong. And just say the word, and I’m gone.”

“And she’s just on for the tour Bellamy,” Miller said in his quiet but firm way. “It’s just a few months. And then she’s gone.”

“And then I’m gone,” Clarke confirmed.

Bellamy still didn’t turn around, but he unfolded his arms. He scrubbed his hand over his face, sighed, and that was when Clarke knew he had given in.

His bandmates knew it too. Raven smiled in relief, and Miller flashed her a grim flex of his mouth that seemed somewhat reassuring.

And then Murphy opened his mouth. “Bellamy, just don’t sleep with this one like you did with Echo.”

An awful silence settled over the room, and Clarke’s stomach dropped in trepidation.

Murphy shuffled up from his slouching position, a darkly gleeful look in his eyes. “Oh shit, you already did sleep with her, didn’t you? I thought your grudge was just cause her mother’s label fucked you over. Well, is this going to be a problem, because that might change my vote, if you are going to go there again with our manager. I can’t deal with that particular type of shitshow again.”

“I have no intention of going there again,” Bellamy bit out as he finally turned around. “You don’t have to worry about that, I fucking promise you that.”

He stormed out of the room without a single glance, or even a glare, in Clarke’s direction. The hard, bitter tone edge to his words made Clarke’s chest contract painfully and, for the first time since she had dialed Raven’s number, she started to think she was going to regret this decision.

[hithelleth]

First Lines Of Your Last 20 Fics!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

I was tagged by @eveningspirit, thank you! I always like to walk down the memory lane of my writing exploits, they are a nice confidence boos. :)

The Ice King and the Star Boy (The 100 | Bellamy/Roan | E) (aka the monsterfic, as you know it ;))

Banishment.

Impasse (Revolution | CM2 | E)

Charlie finds Bass stretched all lion-like on the king-size bed, studying reports, when she enters the tent.

(Filling) Empty Spaces (Revolution | Jeremy/Charlie | NR)

Charlie was just going to drop off the files Miles had forgotten again, but Jeremy waves her inside as he opens the door.

Only Human (The 100 | various characters | G)

“You’re presenting a puzzle to Rani and Lana.”

Lost (Yellowstone | Jamie Dutton | G)

The plaque on the wall is like a signpost. So, of course he goes to Beth. Because he doesn’t know what to do, whether to accept Rainwater’s – a good man, Perry said, and Jamie might be naïve, but he is not that naïve to think that if everyone plays dirty Rainwater is an exception – patronage or not.

Homework (Station 19 | Vicley | G)

Homework: Write a 100 words about your family or about what you want to be when you grow up.

Now Is Not the End (Station 19 | Vicley | T)

Vic waits with baited breath for that moment she is not ready for. Waits. Waits…

Thoughts on the Future Pasts (Timeless | Nicholas Keynes/Emma Whitmore| T)

The future is... confusing.

Dominoes Falling (TVD/TO | Elena/Elijah/Klaus | NR)

It turns out sometimes late is worse than never.

Close Encounters (Revolution | Charlie/Bass | E)

Bass gets to work well after midnight when the hotel at last falls silent, the partying vacationers having tired themselves out and the early-rising business people not yet up. He is done cleaning the pools before dawn and he sits down in a shaded corner, enjoying the peace and quiet of those last dark cool minutes that offer reprieve from the summer heat.

Reasons to Fight (The 100 | Clarke/Roan | NR)

Roan comes round to something tugging at his hand, constricting his movement. Panic surges in his mind for a moment before he pushes it down and starts cataloguing his surroundings with the methodical precision he learnt as a boy.

Prompts Exist to Be Filled (Revolution, prompt collection, various)

She was a good woman – Jeremy sensed that, although he knew her life had been – perhaps still was – intertwined with Bass’ and Miles’, which also meant that it was fucked up, because those two managed to fuck up everything they touched and he only needed to look in the mirror to find an example; yet, whatever it was up with her and Bass and Miles and however fucked up it was, Jeremy saw her effect on Bass whose eyes lost the glint of craziness and paranoia the moment she appeared: Bass suddenly seemed the man Jeremy met fifteen years ago – the Bass with a sense of shame for his blatant lie and a remnant of naïveté that used to drive him to do the right thing, a man redirected to the path he had lost.

Alien Encounters, Changing Fates, Business as Usual (Killjoys, Revolution, Supernatural | various characters | NR)

After what seems like ages, the turbulence ends with one final jolt that rattles every single bone in their bodies, a clear signal that they have landed – somewhere.

It’s Us Who Own the Apocalypse (Revolution | various pairings | NR)

2030

For the umpteenth time in her life, Rachel regrets getting involved with the goddamn DOD – and for the umpteenth time as well, she acknowledges that she would have done it again if it meant saving Danny – when she almost stumbles into her office from yet another meeting in which she had to fight tooth-and-nail against the bastards trying to use her work for their nefarious purposes.

Convalescence (Quantico | Clayton Haas | NR)

Clayton flinches when he hears the door being unlocked. He always flinches when someone is at the door, although he knows the chance of anyone finding him here is miniscule. The shame at his own cowardice makes him nauseous for a moment; he didn’t use to be one to succumb to fears, but he supposes a near-death experience would do this to a man.

When the Night Breaks (The 100 | Bellamy/Roan | E)

“I’m sorry about your arm.”

The Princess and the Pirates (Revolution | various characters | T)

“Sail out. My brother Miles is out there at sea. He’ll help you.”

Each of Us Is Broken, Always and Forever (The Originals | Elijah/Rebekah/Klaus | E)

“Good evening.”

Hollow (The 100 | Bellarke | NR)

He hadn’t realised it would be like missing a limb. Like in those stories he had heard on the Ark long ago, of a person’s left hand trying to scratch the right one that is no longer there, of phantom pain where there used to be a body part.

There’s a War… but All I See Is You and Me (Agents of Shield | Bakshimmons | E)

It is a stupid thing to wish, but if he were able to stop the time, he would freeze them in those minutes when Jemma giggles between kisses before collapsing on the bed and pulling him down with her.

***

Oh, this took me to 2015 and that shitshow we do not mention, although am sorry I haven't finished this particular fic (but I won't. Nope, nope. Because I'd have to rewatch S2 for that and no, no, no. No. Yes, that's how many no-s it deserves.)

Thank you for the tag, ES, it was nice remembering things I did well, if I say so myself!

It took me so long because on the day you tagged me I started writing it right away and then tumblr decided that e and l are not acceptable letters - I got scared my keyboard was dying, but nope, it worked just fine when typing in word or even into a search line on another tab in the same browser, but tumblr just wouldn't 'take' them.

Also, I remember doing something similar before but with only 10 fics and I could've copy-pasted that and just add the next ten, but do you think I remembered it before I'd already painstakingly did 10 fics? Of course not.

And then, as I think you saw I was too scatter-brained for anything.

Why I'm even explaining this? I think it's the lack of contact with like actual normal humans and this is the closest, so I over do it. Oh, well, if I've already put in the effort to type it all. ;)

Oh, right, patterns: I tend to really vary in style? Though maybe shorter openings are more frequent than more wordy ones.

And my favourite are those from Hollow, Dominoes Falling, and Convalescence. Which one is yours?

Tagging (if it helps you feel better, otherwise, feel free to ignore): @bea2me, @jadedbirch, @abedsmessedupmeta, @stargazerdaisy, @vesperass-anuna and IDK who ever is still writing, oh @blue-charlotte and anyone else who wants to do it! :)

[she-who-the-river-could-not-hold]

#100daysofwriting | day 50 (+ a few others...)

a daily writing challenge created by @the-wip-project // tagging my fellow writers joining in: @thelittlefanpire, @hopskipaway, @kinetic-elaboration, @easilydistractedbyfanfic

Well that was a long and somewhat intentional and unintentional break from this! I first took a break because of just being busy, and then I thought I’d just try to focus on writing by itself. But in reality it’s not like this detracts from that time + exercises for any sort of endeavor is always a good idea! So I’ll just gather up a few of the past ones plus today’s just to get back into it. And what better day than the halfway mark!

How do you start a new story?

Usually a single image of a scene or vibe comes to mind. And then I have to build out from there. So I’ll have a general notes document where I just sort of dump the imagery that’s stuck in my head and then spiderweb my way out of it by figuring out the details.

What's an old idea that you’ve discarded?

My graveyard of ideas is pretty small in terms of actual ideas I’ve discarded. Most of them just hover on the outskirts as “hey one day, probably never, I’d like to write this.” Truly discarded ideas though are two from when I was writing Stranger Things fanfic. They’re my only two abandoned fics where I don’t have any intention of finding ways to make them work (either in the ST realm or any other fandom).

First one was a 1950s asylum inspired AU where El was in an asylum, Will gets kidnapped to be experimented on, and the others find ways to sneak in. Sort of a Sucker Punch inspired story and vibe for it.

Second one was a Lumax!X-Files AU. I wrote the first chapter, was halfway through the second, and then lost the files when my harddrive failed. I immediately lost all desire to rework it and dive back into the accidentally convoluted plot and ended up abandoning it.

How often do you switch WIPs and do you think that’s a good thing to do?

I’m personally always jumping from story to story. I have a really hard time focusing in general, especially for long periods of time, so the idea of singularly focusing on only one story feels overwhelming for me. Usually I’m only able to do that when I can feel the finish line coming up for it and then I can just go all in. But in general, when stories are in the beginning or middle stages, I just allow myself to flow with the inspiration. It often makes me feel like my writing is better (unconfirmed) than when I overly force something to happen.

I think this is something ultimately only people can decide for themselves. Sure, I don’t immediately just turn out a whole piece of work. But usually it all sort of comes cascading out at once since I write a bunch at the same time. And while I’m going to work on my writing ahead goal, that’s more about my patience with posting right away, not jumping from story to story so I probably won’t be changing anytime soon. It’s just not compatible with my brain and I always have to remind myself that this is a hobby for me, nothing more. If I overstress that I can only work on one at a time, it’s going to become too much for me and defeat the purpose.

Share a cool phrase from a WIP.

She closed her eyes as her mind conjured up the smell of death around her, the sound of choking screams and the way the ground had shaken beneath her boots. The wide-eyed stare of a young woman in the clutches of death, her mouth gaping open and threatening to swallow Clarke whole–– ––her eyes snapped back open again.

What fic/story made you?

Probably my Lumax!zombies AU that I wrote. I was so struck by this one idea in my head that I cranked out this story really quickly and even wrote a spinoff of it told from Mileven’s POV. I was so stunned by the reaction I got from it, the way people were really into it and reacting to it, was a startling feeling. I’d always loved creating stories as a kid, both through toys or writing on my dad’s computer, but sharing it had never really been a thing until fanfiction. Even in my creative writing classes, I knew it wasn’t really entirely my thing in the way it was for others. But I saw people respond so positively to a story that was both fanfiction but also my own, and I was like well shit. Maybe I have some more cool ideas in me.

Fic(s) Worked On:

Bellarke, Tarzan AU: the deadline is coming up soon for this fic so I’ve made a lot of progress on that during my offtime from these updates! I’ve hit a slight wall inspirationally with it but I think I’ll be okay to get it done. Can’t let perfection get in the way of progress ya know?

Bellarke, Modern AU: I haven’t written about this one yet and then out of nowhere yesterday I was inspired to work some on it. I made a very rudimentary outline of the structure for it (it’s going to be styled in a series of vignettes) and then started free-writing it. Going back to present-tense writing for the first time in a while, something about that just feels right for it. It’s very Lana Del Rey vibes inspired mixed with two messy people living in a city like New York

Bellarke, Sci-fi/Hanahaki AU: very unintentionally made a lot of progress on this first chapter! Something about the intricacies of this story makes me want to try to make this one that I write all at once before posting. I think my others are fine just being extensively outlined, but this one I really want to push to see if I can write it all in one go. I also am really excited to get back into writing sci-fi again!

[darthmanius-abandoned]

so first of all I want to make clear that I was not saying you should have died of cancer. I was trying to point out to your gf that she was being nasty by laughing at how upset the bellarke stans are. To some of us losing bellamy is like losing a family member or a gf/bf and I was pointing out that kicking someone while they are down is low. All the clexas who are celebrating are low

You came at my girlfriend, out of so many people doing the exact same thing. You went to the effort of going from her profile to mine and then used my VERY REAL cancer diagnosis to compare that to your VERY FICTIONAL character dying.

I spent 7 months in a long term ward, because I didn’t have anyone who could take care of me at home at the time. For most of that time, I wasn’t able to see anything outside of that ward. For 3 of those months I didn’t see anything outside my fucking room. Because Covid had hit and I was being kept in isolation to try and keep me safe. I was constantly in pain, unable to eat because everything I did try to eat I either couldn’t get it down or it would just be vomited back up, I was coughing up blood, had frequent nosebleeds, all my bones were aching and I couldn’t even control my bodily functions! Not to mention the fact that isolation was taking a toll on me mentally and I started seeing weird patterns and shit in the walls and bodiless voices.

While I understand that the loss of a TV character can have a significant impact on people, I mean Lexa’s death absolutely shattered me, there is NO COMPARISON between a fictional character’s death and cancer. And you had the nerve to compare the death of Bellamy to my death from cancer to my girlfriend.

That is what pissed her off. Bellamy is a character. Bob Morley is alive and well. I’m a real human being who had to look death in the face. So while I understand that you were trying to communicate how significant Bellamy’s death was to you, you went about it in entirely the wrong way. As I said before, there is no comparison. My girlfriend was by my side and she saw what I went through. She saw how hard it was on me. She supported me through it and kept me from losing ALL my marbles as opposed to just most of them.

Now. As for the Clexa fans celebrating. Let me explain this for you as simply as I can. For 4 years, Bellarke fans (SOME, not all) we’re making fun of Clexa fans. Invading chats with pictures of Lexa’s death, sending memes of dead lesbians, sending pictures of ashes and saying it was Lexa, “Lexa’s a rotting corpse” and in some cases, suggesting that Clexa fans should join Lexa in death! And that is just scratching the surface of what they did. Bellamy’s actions, in part, indirectly contributed to the circumstances that got Lexa killed. Clexa fans have held a resentment because Bellamy never saw any punishment for his actions because he was Golden Boy Bellamy. He’s been responsible for at least 2 mass murders. He was never morally on the right side of anything. So in purely a storyline sense, Clexa fans are glad to see he finally got his comeuppance.

They are also glad to see that the Bellarke fandom was also fucked over by Jason the exact same way we were! We tried to tell you guys that the guy hated us all. We tried to tell you he would use you for views only to throw you away like garbage. But you thought it would be different for you. You thought he would treat you guys differently. Surprise!! He hates y’all too!! He doesn’t give a fuck about any of us! The man you spent years defending, the guy who’s show you kept up with sticky tape and popsicle sticks turned around and stabbed you in the back the same way he did to us. There is some petty satisfaction in that.

And I don’t want to hear how you guys were all “baited” as bad as the Clexa fans were. Here is the difference. For 7 season, the actors have referred to it as “this Bellarke shit” and frequently referred to Bellarke as platonic. Jason himself has said it I don’t know how many times. Yes, the writing was done to cast some doubt over those statements, but that was Jason being a cock because he KNEW that without your views, his show was going down like the fucking Titanic. That’s on Jason. But the actors have been trying to tell you for YEARS that it wasn’t going to happen. Because most of those actors give a shit about their fans, and while they’re contracts gagged them to a point, they tried to tell you.

Clexa, on the other hand, was different. Jason paraded himself around like a champion of LGBTQ+ representation. He specifically said not to worry about Lexa dying. He invited fans to video the filming in Vancouver, specifically the filming that Alycia and Eliza were doing, to try and give the illusion that Lexa was still alive in the finale. He deliberately misled people into believing Lexa was safe, so they felt safe to watch S3. And when 3x07 came, THAT made the blow so so so so much worse. He did that ON PURPOSE.

Not to mention the WAY in which Lexa was killed off. She was caught by a stray bullet not intended for her because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Right after her and Clarke had finally consummated their relationship. It was weak, it was disgusting and it was pathetic. THAT IS SO MUCH MORE BAITING THAN WHAT HAPPENED WITH BELLARKE

I do have sympathy for the Bellarke fans who are emotionally devastated by this, I really do. And I hope that everyone is going to be ok and we don’t see any tragedies out of this. I really, truly do. But my sympathy only reaches a certain point because they showed no sympathy for us when we were in this position. I will not tolerate any further comparisons between a fictional character and my cancer diagnosis. So I would advise you to leave myself and my girlfriend alone from here on. Your time and energy would be better spent supporting your fellow Bellarkes. Just a suggestion.

(P.S. My girlfriend says hi 👋)

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @that-english-nerd (she/hers)

what are you working on right now? Three things!

My next chapter for my witch!AU where Bellamy is the son of a witch, and Clarke enlists his help to find out what happened to her father and his sister.

And a prompt for @bellarkefic-for-blm  with princess!Clarke and knight!Bellamy. It's a little outside of my comfort zone but I enjoy writing it. I currently have stumbled upon some technical difficulties where I lost everything I wrote for it so now I'm back to square one.

I’m also looking for the next chapter of a Voltron fic I’ve been working on. It’s super silly but it’s ridiculous amounts of fun, I want to write so much for it.

what’s something you’d like to write one day? I think it's been a pipe dream of mine to write a novel that captures the spirit of the YA books I grew up on but that people of all ages can enjoy. I want it to be my ultimate self-indulgent fantasy where I combine all the things I loved as a reader. A fantasy/sci-fi, action, a good satisfying romance, complex emotions.

It's also important to me that the main character is brown-skinned like I am, and that the book discusses different philosophies and cultures without ever saying one is right. Growing up as the child of immigrants, I've always struggled with clashing cultures and it took me a while to learn that neither culture is more right than the other, and that our differences in how we think are what makes being human meaningful. I want something that acknowledges those parts of the human experience without villainizing or glorifying its existence.

what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? Honestly? It's this moodboard I made for my Winx Club!AU. I really like how it came out aesthetically speaking, and I'm fond of the story. I do have some things I'd change about the story stemming from the fact I wrote it one sitting but I don't know if I'll ever make the changes. Still. It was a fun piece to write.

why did you first start writing fic? I really, really just wanted to write some more scenes for my favorite couples who I felt were robbed in books. I just wanted to write some cute shit, man. Since then I’ve written for 39 Clues, Maximum Ride, Demashitaa! Powerpuff Girls Z, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Powerpuff Girls, Hush, Hush, Danny Phantom, Giver, Legend of Korra, Jimmy Neutron, Code Lyoko, 100, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Lucifer, and Penryn & the End of Days.

what frustrates you most about fic writing? plot. specifically, non-emotional plot. like what even is that. If the plot is driven by emotional development, it’s still hard to come up with specific structures for moments but like if things need to happen outside of their emotions, oh whee boy do I struggle. For me, emotions tend to naturally evolve from one thing into the next and it’s easy for the characters to lead me where their emotions take them. It’s harder when things need to develop outside of that.

Other than that, motivation is a big roadblock. Struggling with depression, anxiety and my other responsibilities, I can go without touching a piece of writing for months. I feel the itch very often but it’s one that goes unindulged.

what are your top five songs right now? - Experience by Victoria Monét with Kahlid, SG Lewis  - BALI by Rich Brian with Guapdad 100 - Etch by RILEY THE MUSICIAN with Iker - Culver by Mac Wetha

what are your inspirations? Usually pictures or stories! My witch!AU was inspired by an aesthetic picture I saw on tumblr and most of my other stuff has been inspired by other stuff I read. It’s not necessarily specific plot points—though, sometimes some plot threads are too good to give up—but rather the emotional journey the characters go through. Poems and other media also feed the old noggin.

what first attracted you to Bellarke? what attracts you now? It turns out I have a thing for reluctant partners turned lovers. I really liked how the two shouldered responsibilities that no one else really had, and that despite their differences, they had the capacity to understand and empathize with each other when no one else would. It would've been so easy for Bellamy and Clarke to fall into an endless cycle of blaming each other for their decisions. We see it in the other characters, in other TV shows--a constant battle where only one person's philosophy can prevail. But with Bellamy and Clarke, they have always shown empathy and accepted each other. It might not have been right, maybe they themselves would've done something different, but at the end of the day, Bellamy and Clarke try to understand and accept each other for who they are. Present tense. I think that kind of, frankly mature, love is something we don't see in media all too often.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? hmmmm

I do enjoy memori, they make me happy. I also have a soft spot for Raven and Roan. Anything with Wells is gold bc I really want to see how he could've changed the show. Oh, and Minty. This wonderful idea will always be a favorite of mine.

why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? I’ve been wanting to do more for a bit because I, personally, avoid social media activism. @bellarkefic-for-blm  is an amazing way to leverage whatever platform I have to incite awareness and action by using my strengths. I can do this really cool thing that I enjoy to help something critically important.

what’s your writing process like (esp for prompts, chopped!, etc)? it’s a hot diggity dog mess. I kind of do whatever I feel like. If I want to write a scene, I’ll write a scene. If I want to write dialogue, I’ll write dialogue. If I want to write an outline, I’ll write an outline. Chronological order is not guaranteed. Because writing tends to be an extremely emotionally exhaustive task for me, it’s easier for me to write more if I let go and follow whatever whims I have so that I don’t compromise my urge to write. My guarantee is that I try to milk the whim for whatever it’s worth. If I start an outline, I’ll finish it. I’ll have music in usually but I’ll pause it often to think about whatever it is I need to say.

what are some things you’d like to recommend? Some bellarke fics that’ll make you chuckle: So put your hands down my pants and I bet you’ll feel nuts by Chash You know you drive me up the wall by coffee_grounders The (Bullet Pointed) Life and Times of Bellamy Blake by crystalkei, dirtytrix

Other than that:

-       Albums: Ungodly Hour by Chloe x Halle, SAWAYAMA by Rina Sawayama, Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers -       Musicians: Matt Nathanson, Mat Kearney -       TV Shows: Nikita, Code Lyoko -       Books: Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor

You can find her on here on Tumblr @that-english-nerd, or on her AO3 here. Request a fic written by her via @bellarkefic-for-blm.

[chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky]

Hello!! So I was inspired to write this prompt I came up with but I honestly don’t have the skills nor time to do it justice, but I KNOW you would. Bellamy, Madi, & Jordan are grieving for Clarke, but the children are Bellamy’s rock. They both encounter their stories they’ve heard of their mom/parents of the bellarke relationship. And Bellamy, through sobs, says the infamous line “you still have hope?” Or maybe the kids say “we still have hope, we’re breathing” & Bellamy just sobs/is encouraged

2/2: If you do do it, thank you so much!! I used to write a ton of fanfics years ago but growing older, my skills have just kind of turned crusty & I am no longer able to do it. So honestly, I’d be honored if you choose to do this. If not, completely fine. Always a fan! And you seem like a sweet, loving, & friendly soul too!

Oh my gosh, you are so sweet, this was the nicest prompt. I am so emotional for so many reasons - and I totally understand not writing for a while. I hope you continue again if it brings you joy! And let me know if you do! :D And I would be honored to write this, love!

There is a lot of chaos in the world. For every action, there is anequal an opposite reaction. On another part of the Universe, there must be agroup of people who have easy lives. They’re actions cause and equally horriblereaction.

It’s what Bellamy thinks as he sits in the fire. He’s by himself, as heusually is. Everyone wants to help, but in the quiet moments, he likes to bealone. Also, he’s not sure if people like to be around him right now.

Because she was right there. She was right there. He spent six years mourning her, had her for a fewweeks, and now she was gone again.

Bellamy thought a lot about Clarke over their time together. He hatedher, then he tolerated her, respected her and then loved her. After everythingthey’ve been through, Bellamy thought if they made it out alive – if they justsurvived it all – there would be a point. A point to all the suffering, a pointto the loss.

Now? Now he can’t see the point.

A few figures move around the fire and sit around him. He sees Madi,eyes swollen and red. It’s what she’s looked like for days. No one saysanything, despite Gaia’s concern. What really is there to say?

Bellamy knows from experience, there’s nothing anyone can say when youlose your mom.

When Jordan joins them, the three of them sit around the fire quietly,Madi’s sniffles the only noise above the crackling fire. It isn’t until Jordan speaksdoes Bellamy even register what’s happening. He’d been floating around in theworld, not sure of what to do.

“My dad told me this story about Clarke when you guys just landed onearth. He said that moral was down for a week because of the war, and so shesnuck out of the dropship and found all these flowers. Just bushels of flowers.He wasn’t even sure how she got them all back, but everyone woke up and therewere all these flowers. And people scoffed at it, but he said it really helped.”

“It did,” Bellamy laughs, unable to stop himself. He remembers that dayvividly. Stepping out from his tent and suddenly there were so many flowers. Hewas startled, first feeling alert, but then he saw Clarke standing in thecorner, smiling to herself. People leaned down and smelled them, somepretending to be uninterested, some thrilled. “I was so angry. When I realizedwhat Clarke had done. Sneaking out from behind the wall. I yelled at her thatevening and she just looked at me with that infuriating way that Clarke looksat you when she knows she’s right. ‘Feel better?’ she asked.” Bellamy tosses atwig in the fire. “I did. After seeing them. I didn’t tell her though. Couldn’thave her be right.”

Madi giggles through her tears, wiping her cheeks. “She said that shecould always tell when you agreed with her, even if you didn’t tell her. Shesaid that there would be a way you looked at her when you were annoyed she wasright. You wouldn’t admit it, but you would snap at the next person who arguedwith her.”

“Of course she knew,” Bellamy sighs, running his hand down his face. “Justwhat I was hoping to hear.” But he can’t help but smile. “I shouldn’t besurprised though. I used to think that I was hard to read, but she always isable to read through me.”

Jordan chuckles. “That’s what Dad always said. That Clarke was the onlyone who could rattle you.”

“I wish I could say that isn’t true.”

Madi leans forward. “Did Monty ever tell you about the time they got stuckin a cave during a storm and a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ turned into Bellamyand Clarke shouting at each other?”

“Oh man, I forgot about that!” Jordan cries. “When Mom told me about itthe first time, I laughed so hard I cried.”

“Me too!” Madi exclaims. “Those were my favorite stories. Not the oneswith war and death. I liked the ones where everyone was safe.”

Jordan snorts. “I liked the ones with war. Life threatening battles,bonded family and all that. My dad used to say that I would’ve hated it if Iwas there. I’m beginning to think that he was right.”

Bellamy frowns at this, trying not to think of how quickly they’ddestroyed his innocence. So quickly. Sighing, he folds his hands in his lap.Madi’s gaze flits to him, and he can’t help but notice Jordan share a look. “Youknow,” Jordan says, very inconspicuous with the way he’s throwing a gaze atMadi. “There was another thing that Mom and Dad used to say to me.”

Bellamy tries not to let this conversation affect him. He’s been toldby many people that he can’t keep hope. That Clarke is gone, that she’s dead. But even thinking that makes itfeel like he’s falling to pieces on the inside.

“They used to say as long as you two were on the same side, thateverything would be alright. That all anyone needed was the two of you on thesame side. That’s when he knew everything would be alright.”

“We finally were,” Bellamy manages out, blinking away a few tears. “Wefinally got back together and then…”

Madi bows her head. “She waited for you for so long.” Madi says with alaugh. “Man, she would tell me so many stories about you. About how brave andkind you were. About how she wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you. About how—”Madi wipes away a few more wayward tears. “About how you were her family thatshe never thought she’d have.”

Bellamy feels himself on the verge of losing it. Sucking in a breath,he tries to contain it. He tries to keep himself from falling apart. “I-Is thatso?”

Madi smiles at him, pained and honest. “She would tell me stories aboutyou when I’d have nightmares. I think it’d make her feel better too. To thinkof you.”

“I’ll ask her for some when we get her back.” Jordan says. “I reallywant to hear her perspective.”

Bellamy opens his mouth to retort, but he finds he can’t bring himselfto. He wants to say that his perspective is far more important, but a sobcatches in his throat before he can bring himself to. With a hollow laugh,Bellamy asks, “You still have hope?”

Jordan looks at him, as serious as he’s ever seen him. “We still breathin’,aren’t we?”

Bellamy breathes a broken sigh, trying to keep himself together. Droppinghis head into his hands, Bellamy feels Madi and Jordan move closer. They don’tsay anything else, but they’re there. They’re there. For the first time in days, he feels like they may have achance.

They’re still breathin’, aren’t they?

So is she.

And he’s going to keep it that way.

[the-100-fanfiction]

There’s Nothing to Talk About (Bellarke Story Part 3)

I can’t help it. I’m in a Bellarke writing MOOD today. Enjoy!

BELLAMY

I did everything I could think of over the next few weeks to make things right with Clarke. We are in this complicated dance, and I have no idea what to do to stop it.

It didn’t help that Murphy has been an extra pain in my ass the last few weeks too. He’s almost always around Clarke, which is odd considering they have never been close friends. Every time I’ve tried to talk to her when he’s there, he finds some piss poor excuse to interrupt our conversation. Every. Damn. Time.

But I am going to keep trying. Eventually, Clarke will have to let me back in.

I hated this. Not being able to talk to her. For years I thought I’d lost that, lost her. When I found out she survived the radiation, I felt like I won the lottery. I got back something most people don’t--I got back my other half. And now it’s like there’s an impenetrable wall between us.

Even right now, she’s standing on the other side of the hall from me, but it’s like she’s a million clicks away. We’re assembling starter packages for the first round of Wonkru being awoken in two days. There are probably 30 or 40 people volunteering to get the 100 packs prepared.

I’ve been trying my best not to look at her too often, to make it too obvious. But I can’t help it. I glance up just in time to see Clarke make a strange face, turn to say something to Emori who was standing right beside her, and then quickly vanish out of the room.

Before I even register what I’m doing, I’m halfway across the room heading after her. Something was wrong. I could see it in her face.

“You finish your quota yet Bellamy?” The voice coming from behind me to no surprise belongs to the cockroach.

“I’ll finish later,” I say quickly, trying to avoid the situation.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work for me,” he says back.

“What’s your deal Murphy? You’ve been an even bigger pain in my ass than usual, and I’m just about done with it.” My voice had grown louder than I intended, but he’d been pushing my buttons for long enough. Murphy surprisingly stepped an inch closer to me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think I’m the same chipper version of myself that you usually get to ‘deal with’,” he says back, dripping with sarcasm in only the way Murphy can do.

“Let’s bring the testosterone down a notch there boys,” Raven says, putting her hands on both of their chests and pushing them away from each other. Murphy just smirks and walks over towards Emori’s table. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Just Murphy being Murphy,” I mumble, heading towards the door Clarke left through. Sure enough, I look around and she’s nowhere to be seen.

CLARKE

I made it back to my apartment just in time to have my lunch come pouring out of me. I felt the nausea starting before I’d eaten. I thought some soup and a small sandwich would curb whatever bug this was, but apparently I was wrong. It started to rear its ugly head while she was assembling the starter packs for Wonkru in the hall. Now here I am, vomiting up a good days food into my toilet.

I hear a voice call my name. I look up in time to see Madi walk into the bathroom doorway.

“Clarke, are you okay?!” She asked, concern written all over her face. “Do you need me to go get Jackson?!”

“No, no it’s okay Madi. I’m fine now.” And I was. As quickly as the nausea came, it was gone. I stood up off the floor, flushed the toilet, and went to the sink to rinse out my mouth and wash my face off. The whole time she just stood in the doorway watching.

“What’s going on Clarke?”

“It’s just a bug or something. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Are you sure? You’re not pregnant or something are you?” Madi was only joking, I could see it in her face, but as the words repeated in my mind, I started counting. When was the last time I had my period? The quizzical look on my face must have shown, because she followed with, “I’m just kidding Clarke. It’s a joke.”

But I wasn’t laughing. It had been almost two months since I had my last period. There’s no way, it’s not possible. Is it? I knew it was about the time I needed to get my implant replaced, but it couldn’t have gone bad already!

“Shit,” I say by accident.

“Oh my god, Clarke. Wait, I don’t understand. What, I mean...how...no who?!”

There’s no way I’m pregnant. I need to know for sure. “Madi I need you to come with me to the palace. I need to go back into the medical room. I need to know for sure.”

“Clarke, I-”

“Madi please? You can’t tell anyone. Not until I know for sure. Please.” I grabbed Madi by the shoulders and was looking directly in her eyes, begging her.

“Okay,” she finally said, in utter shock it looks like.

I grab her hand and pull her out of the apartment. We made our way across the courtyard, up the stairs and inside without anyone of my friends seeing us. The Sanctum’s technology is advanced enough, she can run a quick blood sample and have a full list of results in a matter of seconds. As soon as we enter the room, I tie a band around my arm, tap the vein with my finger, and use a syringe to take some blood. I pull the band off my arm once I’m done, and place the sample into the processor. As I expected, within seconds the monitor comes to life with the results. The blood drains from my face.

“Holy crap,” Madi murmurs.

On the fourth line down, under blood type and other levels, it reads:

PREGNANCY?  POSITIVE (5-6 WEEKS)

Pregnant. I’m 5-6 weeks pregnant. Which means...Bellamy.

I feel my stomach lurch just in time to turn to the nearby sink. I don’t have anything left in me, but the dry heaving comes nonetheless. I feel Madi calmingly rubbing my back until it passes. I finally stand up and look at her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks.

“No. There’s nothing to talk about,” I say. I can’t deal with this right now. I had just started to get my intense emotions under control thanks to Murphy. He’s shown up that morning after the party, after I’d gone back to my room in tears, the morning after I apparently got pregnant. I had wiped the tears away, opened the door, and he had said, “Bellamy is a dick.” I soon found out that he had seen us leave that night, saw us kiss, and saw the look on my face when he walked in the next morning with Echo. He’d become my Bellamy Blake bodyguard in a sense. I’d almost stopped feeling the tinge of pain when I saw him, and now this?

“Clarke, you can’t just pretend that you’re not-”

“There’s nothing to talk about Madi!” I cringe at the way I yelled at her. I immediately turn to face her. “Listen, I’m sorry. But please, do not talk to anybody about this. I’m serious Madi.”

She seemed to think it over, but I think the look on my face showed her just how desperate I am. She finally caved, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” I say simply. We leave the room, and as she heads back to the hall to check on how things are progressing, I stare out at the Sanctum. I don’t have a choice anymore. This has to work. It has to.

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 13: Bellarke, We Spoke of Wintertime in France

Bellarke, modern AU, ~860 words, for @take-me-to-planet-equity

80′s song inspo: #44, The Metro - Berlin

I had to start this one like 3 different times and I was very close to giving up but I stubbornly wrote it anyway! I don’t even know what’s happening with a lot of these sentences but, mmm, I tried.

Currently taking requests for 80s inspired ficlets; send me a pairing and a number between 1 and 265 and I’ll write a scene based on a song from my Long 80′s Playlist.

My tag list: @ciewill @dealingdreams @shadowheron2013 @julyrubyrose @wonderland-promises @hanav @rycewritestrash @thelittlefanpire @musicnote902 @stonybnatural @earthgay2052   (lmk if you would like to be added to or deleted from this list)

*

Clarke stands with her hands in her pockets, one of only a few people on the platform, waiting on the last train home. The name of the station is picked out in blue and white tiles on the wall across from her. The air is sharp and cool in a way that is specific to concrete and the underground. She has a letter, folded in half and wrinkled, stuck in the back pocket of her jeans. And she feels, with that species of certainty that comes only in the clear-eyed late-night hours, listening to the empty echoes of footsteps--someone pacing at the other end of the platform, someone else coughing into his hand--that she understands everything now.

The letter starts Dearest Clarke, which is obscene.

The last time she saw Bellamy, he was wearing a white button-down shirt, which was unlike him, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which was. She was getting off the metro then, too, climbing up the steps, fighting to open her umbrella and barely looking up until she hit the street. London in April, the rain coming down hard to hiss and splash along the pavement, an unusual hot spring rain, topped by darkening thunderclouds, too easily turning into steam. And Bellamy waiting for her beneath the awning of a restaurant, with his own umbrella open, crowded in among the tables. She kissed him on the cheek, but he was cold.

She remembers this and also the way he held her hands across the table while they sat together under the awning, two black coffees between them, their umbrellas shoved under the table and almost on top of their feet. The rain coming down so hard that it was almost impossible to hear him, when the rumble of his voice dropped too low. How he spoke of the time they'd spent apart and the distances and his sense that he no longer knew her, whatever that was supposed to mean. Like she had become someone else in her own absence. He felt like a stranger, holding her hands.

The letter came later and was maybe, almost, an apology (dearest Clarke)—maybe just nostalgia. She's read it so many times that certain cadences of it have become deep-ingrained in her memory like old nursery rhymes. It's addressed to her apartment in Paris, a city they used to daydream about together, cuddled under blankets in the middle of a cold spell, their faulty old radiator clacking and bumping like a ghost in the twilight, and none of the lights on. You know it almost never snows in Paris? Not a lot of snow. Not very cold. We could visit in the winter; we could walk along the Seine.

On the way to see him again in London, two years later, she found herself on the Underground, sitting next to the door as the car filled up and new arrivals had to stand. The man next to her had fallen asleep. She remembers now how she listened to the noises he made in his sleep and wondered what he was dreaming. Bellamy also made sounds as he slept. Early on, she would wake sometimes and wonder if he was about to wake too, prop herself up on her elbow and listen to him, trying to make out the words he mumbled in his dreams. What he might divulge of himself, without meaning to. What she could collect of him, slot into her understanding of him, in the secret quiet of his bed late at night.

Her understanding is that he is brave, but the letter is cowardly, because it is a letter and so ardent. I love you always. I have loved you always. But not quite going so far as to say he misses her, or has any regrets.

The train arrives first as a wide beam of light cutting through the darkness of the tunnel, a building rumble of noise, a screech of wheels and iron. The metal slide of the doors opening, and the electric light of the inside of the cars, cozy in their familiarity, their impersonal grey plastic seats and dulled gray floor welcoming her in. Clarke steps over the threshold and takes a seat toward the back end of the car, far away from the two other people already on board. One is asleep, the other scrolling through her phone.

She hadn't known what to say that afternoon in London, in the rain. She had felt so disconnected from Bellamy, and from herself, that she could almost believe that he was right and she was not, in some fundamental and necessary way, who she had been. Waves of sadness came later, and anger after that. How he had dared to love her, how love had seemed like a promise now broken. She understands now that he was telling the truth but that he was also afraid, and that he is still afraid, or he would not have written this letter to her. But she does not feel guilty for frightening him.

She takes the letter from her pocket, unfolds it, and begins reading it again.

[igotbellarkeforthat]

The Ghosts That We Knew

Season 6 Drabble

Warning: Angst galore. This idea came to me and I HAD to write it out. Bellarke if you squint.

"Ok, let's go over this again. What do we know about them? Numbers, tactics, weaknesses?"

Bellamy rounded the table to get a better look at the intel spread across the surface. Clarke stood next to him, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Murphy, Emori, and Raven were across from them, going over the map the scouts obtained on their initial reconnaissance mission to their strange, new home. Jordan stood off to the side, pensive and uncertain.

"They've got the edge in numbers, but we make up for it in training," Clarke replied, dropping her arms to lean on the table. "They can fight, but they aren't soldiers. They're unorganized. We can use that."

"We have missiles," Murphy pointed out. "Why not use those?

Raven looked up at him in disbelief.

"We literally just narrowly escaped from a planet that was destroyed in a fiery explosion. For the second time. And you want to come in missiles blazing? No way."

"She's right, John," Emori added. "This is the only chance for a real home we have left. We can't risk it."

"I'm sorry," Jordan spoke up at last, taking a tentative step forward, "but why do we have to fight these guys at all? Can't we resolve this without violence?"

Clarke saw the dark looks on the others' faces and knew that they, like her, were thinking of Octavia, Echo, Miller, and a number of others in medbay. They had been among the first scouting party to the new planet and, to put it lightly, had not been well received by the descendants of Eligius III. They would live, but their injuries drew the wrath of many aboard the ship.

"Hey," Clarke said gently, laying a hand on Jordan's arm. "Believe me, we don't want to be having this conversation either. I know this is a lot to take in and I know that you don't understand. But you've never been at war. You have to trust us."

"You've got a lot to learn, kiddo," was Murphy's helpful contribution.

But Jordan just shook his head and shrugged off Clarke's hand.

"I understand that you all have... experience with this kind of thing, and that what I say or think doesn't hold much weight. But I also understand that there is very little left of the human race, and we should at least try to make peace before we start blowing each other up!"

Bellamy was shaking his head before the boy could finish.

"You saw what happened to the scouting party. They attacked us. Tried to kill our friends! They aren't interested in making peace!" His voice rose as his frustration mounted.

"But if you would just talk to them-" Jordan tried.

"We tried talking! Look where that got us!"

"But I think that-"

"ENOUGH!" Bellamy finally exploded. "We're not talking about this anymore, Monty! It's not-"

He froze. The echoes of his anger reverberated off the walls and faded into silence, and the room grew deathly quiet.

For several long moments, no one spoke.

"Well," said Jordan softly, finally breaking the silence, "I guess we know what Dad would have to say about it."

Clarke caught one glimpse of Bellamy's stricken face before he shuttered his emotions, turned, and stormed out the door. She looked back to Raven, Murphy, and Emori, still standing at the table but now gazing somberly at the floor, and felt that twinge of loneliness that occasionally crept up on her in the presence of the former Spacekru. She had lost Monty and Harper too, of course, but she had lost them differently than the others who had been with them in space.

"I'll go talk to him," she murmured, partly because Bellamy was her best friend and she understood him better than anyone and partly because she felt like an intruder to the grief that was suddenly thick within the room.

As she turned to the door, she briefly met Jordan's solemn gaze and was struck once again by just how like his parents he was. She could almost see them standing on either side of him, hands on his shoulders. Their son. Their legacy.

Fighting against the sudden sting of tears, she quickly left to try and find Bellamy, the memories and phantom faces of her friends chasing after her as she fled.

[octannibal-blake]

hey liz congrats on reaching the milestone you really deserve it!! could i get ❤️️ for a prompt, maybe bellarke in canon verse + comfort?

ah thank you zahraa! you know how much i love writing canon-verse blarke. here you go, babe!

right beside you

“What are you doing?”

There’s a soft echo on the cave walls, the deep tenor of his voice rumbling around her and causing her to stop in her tracks. She adjusts the pack on her back and turns, her shoulders rolled back and chin stuck out in determination. She won’t let him get in her way. Not now. Not with everything on the line.

“I’m going to get her,” she resolves and she sees him run a frustrated hand over his face, scratching at the patchy beard that’s grown there. It’s a tick she’s already grown used to in their short time back together. He’s different now, something that she expected but still hadn’t been prepared for. He’s calculated. Cautious, to the point that it does nothing but infuriate her. They’ve spent more time in their last few weeks together fighting. About Eligius. About the bunker. About Madi. They’re beyond being on different pages. They’re in completely different books.

And there’s a dull ache in heart because she had naively hoped that despite six years, they could still be Clarke and Bellamy. Leaders. Partners.

She’s been nothing but disappointed.

“Can you stop being stubborn for five seconds?” he growls and she scoffs on impulse, because Bellamy Blake of all people should never talk to her about being stubborn.

“You’re one to talk,” she argues, throwing her hand up in a wild gesture, “I’ve been patient. I’ve been waiting for you all to figure out a plan but you haven’t and I’m tired of waiting.”

He lets out another sigh and steps closer, his boots thudding against the uneven stones, “It’s not that easy and you know that.”

“Actually, it is,” she says, her voice a little higher pitched than normal, “They have Madi. End of discussion.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” he snaps and it knocks her back a couple of steps. She recovers quickly, the pent up anger and anxiety of it all boiling under her skin.

“I can’t just sit here while they do God knows what to a little girl!” it’s all she can think about. From the moment Eligius took Madi, all she can think about are those shock collars and whips she saw in their camp. That they used on her. They could be torturing her and every second they sit idly by, the worse it could be. The thought makes her chest ache.

“We’re going to get her back,” Bellamy huffs and once again steps closer, almost like he wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she believes him.

“I’m going to get her back,” she clarifies with a sharp tongue and she watches him visibly flinch from the cut of her words. She tries to step around him but he blocks her, his arm outstretched and hand gripping her elbow.

“Will you just stop?!”

She yanks herself free, “You don’t get it, do you? She’s all I had! While you all were up in space, I was here. Alone and ready to fucking die!”

He backs away as she lashes out, and she thinks maybe fifteen shock lashes might be less painful for him. She knows that it’s a sore subject, that he feels immense guilt for leaving her behind. They’ve talked about it already and he knows that she forgives him for that. She understands and more than anything, she’s happy they did. They’re all alive and that’s what matters. But now, in her anger, she’s trying to hurt him. It’s not fair, but that’s what she does. She hurts the people she loves.

(How could she love a stranger for six years? How could that feeling still clench her heart after so long?)

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, lowering her voice and begging him to understand that she didn’t mean it like that.

“She saved my life.”

She thinks of that moment, when she had been ready to just end it all. She was alone and starving and desperate. Her weakest moment and Madi showed up and made her believe in something again. Herself and life and second chances. She gave her a new purpose and she can’t just leave her behind.

She feels something wet trickle down her cheek and wipes at it. Then it happens again and it’s then that she realizes she’s crying. She tries to turn away from him, but he’s right in front of her and his thumb is pressing against her cheek.

“Clarke,” he says gently, his other arm tentatively sliding onto her waist. It’s a closeness that they haven’t shared since the day he came home, but it’s natural. Her body relaxes into him automatically, like it knows that it’s okay to be this way. He’s Bellamy. He understands her.

“I have to get her back,” she whispers again, staring holes into his chest, “She’s all I have.”

“Hey,” his thumb moves from her cheek to her chin and lifts it up so she has to meet his eyes, “We’re going to get her back. I promise.”

He must sense that she doesn’t quite believe him because he says it again, eyes wide and voice firm, “I promise.”

She nods and she lets him slide the pack off her shoulders. Stay, the gesture tells her. He slings it over his own shoulder and keeps her pulled into his chest. I’m here. She follows him back into the open space, not bothering to find her own bedroll. Monty is snoring lightly, the small growls bouncing off the walls. She wishes she could show them the village she and Madi built together, but Eligius ruined it in their desire to get to her.

Nightblood. They wanted the nightblood girl who could survive a scorched Earth.

Her hand reaches up to her neck where a small scar puckers against her skin, evidence of her own encounter with the electric collars and sadistic group.

He must sense that she’s still unsettled, because he grips her hand and tugs her to the ground with him, settling on the old pile of blankets and tarps he had brought from space. Under other circumstances, she might feel nervous or thrown by the intimacy. But she craves it, his warmth and the comfort of just having him here.

He lays down first, adjusting the space to accommodate two people instead of one. She lays down and settles into him, her back to his chest and his arm under her head as a pillow. She feels him move uncomfortably, no doubt questioning what to do with his other hand because there isn’t much room to work with. She reaches behind her and threads her fingers into his before wrapping it around her waist and settling on her stomach. She feels him relax and his breath tickles the back of her neck.

“You were wrong, by the way,” he whispers, “You have Madi. And you have us to.”

And he doesn’t need to say anymore, because she knows what he means and she’s so grateful to have them back. They’re lucky to be here, together, and she’ll never take that for granted. But she can’t help but smile softly to herself when he nuzzles his face into her neck.

“You have me.”

want one?

[timelordlookingforatardis]

I want Gaia to make me the next commander

So, this is a one shot. I might write more, we’ll see. I accidentally gave it the wrong no title at first (should say “I want Gaia to make me the next commander”) it’s set post 5x07. It has little tid bits of Bellarke like the show, but not hugging, kissing ect. Let me know what you think ❤️ Also here https://archiveofourown.org/works/15027791

"We don't have time for this!" Bellamy repeated turning to Clarke. He walked over to her, stopping inches away, his eyes boring into hers, with a clenched jaw he inhaled deeply, "And we're not going to kill my sister," He argued.

"We have to do something!" Clarke stressed, looking to Monty and Harper, but the two just sat silently watching Bellamy.

"We are doing something, Clarke! We are going to save our friends!" Bellamy yelled, "To save Ech-"

Clarke placed her index finger roughly half an inch from his lips, not daring to touch them, effectively silencing him. She lowered her hand, taking a rigid step forward, they were in each other's faces, bodies almost touching, "Well then what do you suggest, Bellamy?" She challenged, "Because if it comes down to her or Madi -"

"Octavia's not going to hurt Madi!" Bellamy interrupted, "We'll go get her now," He offered taking a step back to ease the tension, motioning towards the door, "Once we have her, we'll discuss this further," He suggested. 

Clarke nodded in agreement, "Fine," she said looking at the ground, exhaling as she took a step back.

"Monty, work on getting the Eye back up while we go find Madi," Bellamy began, "And Harper, make sure no one gets in," he added turning to open the door. He motioned for Clarke to lead the way. Once they were out into the dimly lit hall, Bellamy placed a hand on Clarke's shoulder stopping her. He turned her towards him, "Are you armed?" He whispered placing his hands on his hips, checking the hall to ensure no one was listening. 

"No," She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. It seemed like he was placing Echo before everyone, this is not what she expected things to be like when they came back down. She expected to be able to tell Bellamy how she felt, but that's not the way things went. She should've just told him about the radio calls when they were sitting by the fire, she just couldn't bring herself to do it with the way he had been looking at her. Then when she saw him with Echo, everything just shattered. She didn't feel like she had any right to feel the way she did though. It'd been six years, things had changed, they'd change, and she seemed to make him happy.

"Let me see," He insisted stepping closer to her, pulling her from her thoughts.

She looked up at him her blue eyes narrowed, "You want to pat me down?" She asked slowly. 

"What?" His eyes widened, "N-no!" He stammered. Clearing his throat, he looked down, taking one hand off of his hip motioning towards her, "Just open your jacket and show me." 

She opened her jacket revealing nothing was there, "See," She said, "Don't worry I'm not dumb enough to attack your sister without a plan."

His jaw tightened again, mouth forming a thin line as he walked ahead of her, this wasn't the time, nor the place for this conversation. They needed to focus on saving their friends, not fighting with each other. Clarke followed closely behind Bellamy, only coming to his side as the stood outside of Octavia's door. Her guard.

"Chit yu gef, Wanheda?" (What do you want, Wanheda?) The guard grunted, "Bloodrena, does not wish to be bothered." 

"We need to speak with her, my," Clarke paused, she'd never introduced Madi to anyone, other than by calling her 'Madi'. She was like a daughter to her, but Clarke wasn't really old enough to be her mother. She bit her lip thinking.

"Nou ste stelt!" (Spit it out!) the guard demanded.

"M-my daughter," Clarke decided, "My daughter is in there with her, she wanted us to come by." She lied.

The guard eyed the two of them suspiciously, contemplating her statement, before nodding curtly and stepping aside. Clarke looked back at Bellamy raising her eyebrows, tilting her head towards the door. He pushed it open, taking a heavy step inside. Octavia instantly looked to the door, her eyes hardening and nostrils flaring as a scowl formed on her face.

"What are you doing in here?" She fumed.

The two stepped in closing the door behind them. Bellamy held his hands up, like a surrender, "We came to check on Madi," He assured her, "Right, Clarke?" He asked. Clarke nodded as she crossed her arms, her mouth set in a thin line.  

"Well," Octavia grinned, "Me and Madi here were just finishing up. Right, Madi?" She echoed her brother placing her hands on the girl's shoulders. Madi quietly looked up, nodding in agreement. Clarke could tell Madi was uncomfortable, she should have been ecstatic to be working side by side with her hero. It was unfortunate, she wasn't the girl Clarke had told her so many stories about, not anymore at least. Octavia tilted her head in Bellamy and Clarke's direction, "Go with your parents," She insisted with a smirk, lightly pushing the girl towards the two.

Bellamy's jaw twitched, he grabbed the girl pulling her towards him before passing her to Clarke, "Go ahead and go to your tent," He insisted, keeping his eyes fixed on Octavia, "I'll meet you there."

Clarke looked wearily at the two, placing a hand on Madi's shoulder, "Let's go Madi," She said, leading the girl out of the room. "What do you want, Bellamy?" Octavia hissed staring at her map. Madi had been useful, telling her about secret passages through the cave systems, and informing her of Clarke's traps. They would need every advantage they could get since they were so outnumbered.

Bellamy ran a hand through his dark wavy hair, "Look O," He began, "I know you're not going to hurt Madi, but Clarke is nervous, you scare people," He paused biting his lip, "Clarke needs to know you won't hurt Madi or put her in danger."

Octavia squinted her eyes shaking her head, "I'm not going to hurt her," She assured Bellamy, "But, we're going to war," She reiterated, "I can't guarantee nothing will happen to her."

Bellamy ran a hand down his face sighing heavily, his eyes gleamed remembering her at the age. He didn't know what to say, "Listen, O," he begged, "You can't send children to war," His forehead furrowed, mouth forming a thin line. She had to understand that, they weren't old enough for that.

"We don't have a choice," She retorted, "We're already outnumbered." 

"Can we at least try to make an arrangement with them?" Bellamy suggested, "I mean there are other options."

"There is no other option, they'd rather kill us," She insisted, "I don't have time for this Bellamy, I have a war to plan."

"Octavia," He began.

"Atohl!" Octavia called.

"Sha, Bloodrena?" (Yes, Bloodrena?) The guard asked barging in, weapon in hand. 

"Ban we ma bro!" (Take away my brother!) She commanded.

"Sha, Bloodrena," He bowed before making his way over to Bellamy.

Bellamy held up his hands in defeat, "I'll see myself out," He said giving one last look at Octavia. He walked out of Octavia's room heading back to Monty and Harper. Nothing good was going to come from any of this, they'd be lucky if any of them survived. He understood Clarke being worried about Madi, what he didn't understand was Clarke not being worried about anyone else. It wasn't just Echo over there. It was also Raven, Emori, Murphy, Kane and her mother. He knew Madi would be safe with his sister. She wouldn't kill a child, she wasn't that much of a monster, he refused to believe otherwise. 

He reached the door to the control room they had been working in, letting himself fall against the wall with a thud. He couldn't think straight. What had happened during the last six years to turn Octavia into 'Bloodrena'? How in the hell were they going to save their friends and keep everyone alive this time? Then still the most baffling to him (even though he knew the answer), how in the hell was Clarke alive? He had lived through the past six years accepting her death and mourning her. Then within moments of making it to the ground, he runs into this child, badass child at that, and is told that she's alive, that she needs him. It was like a wave of memories came crashing into him in that moment and they hadn't stopped since. His mind hadn't stopped since. 

The door opened, "What's going on?" Harper whispered.

"Clarke has Madi back at her tent," he said, "They're both safe now. What about you guys?" He asked turning to face her, "Any luck with the Eye?"

Harper scrunched up her face, shaking her head, "No, I'm sorry, Bellamy. We haven't had any luck. Monty isn't even sure if he can get it back up." She informed him.

"Shit," He cursed rubbing his hands over his face, "I need to talk with Clarke, alone," He sighed, "Can you come with me and bring Madi back here? Keep her safe?" He asked.

"Yeah, of course," Harper nodded. She walked back into the room telling Monty what was up before locking the door behind her and leaving with Bellamy. 

They walked silently through the bunker, avoiding eye contact with the members of Wonkru as they made their way out to the tents. Once they arrived outside of Clarke's tent Bellamy asked Harper to wait a minute. He walked over to his tent, grabbing his gun and checking the clip.

"Here, take this," He told her, passing her the gun, "Just in case," he added pursing his lips. He opened the flap to Clarke's tent finding her and Madi both inside, "Clarke?" He asked. She looked up at him, waiting for him to continue, "Can we talk? Alone?" 

Clarke's face hardened, her body went rigid. He wanted her to leave Madi? She'd just gotten her back from Octavia, but he wanted her to leave her alone, unguarded. She was about to speak up when he spoke instead.

"Harper can take her back with her and Monty," He said.

Harper popped her head into the tent, "Hey, Clarke," She said forcing a smile, "Is it cool with you if I take Madi with us? I promise she'll be safe," she added.

Clarke sighed in defeat looking between Madi and the pair standing at the entrance, "Are you okay with this Madi?" She questioned, hoping Madi wouldn't want to go.

"Yeah," Madi said curtly, grabbing her bag and heading for the door, "Let's go," She ushered. Bellamy and Harper moved out of the doorway allowing her to get through. She stopped outside of the tent promising Clarke she'd be careful, giving Bellamy a disapproving look. She'd heard so many stories about him, she was certain Clarke was in love with him, she did call him every day, but when he came back down with Echo everything seemed different. It wasn't at all how Madi had imagined things would be, things had been so simple for the last five years, but not anymore, maybe not ever again. 

Bellamy gave Madi a small smile telling Harper to be careful and to radio him if anything happened before stepping into the tent. Clarke sat on a cot looking at the ground. He strode over to stand in front of her, there was a long moment of silence, he wasn't sure how to begin.

"Bellamy," She whispered, the way she said it sent a chill down his spine.

He moved closer to her, kind of stepping side to side as he did, "Yeah?"

She looked up at him with watery eyes before throwing her head back down. She didn't know what to say either. She was afraid. She had missed him, but she wished none of this had ever happened. She didn't know who she blamed for the way she felt. Eligius for starting a war, Octavia for what she'd created, Echo for being with Bellamy or herself for setting such high expectations. Everything was a mess, she wanted to tell him how she felt, but she also wanted to scream at him how stupid he was. 

Bellamy kneeled down in front of her, like he had so many years ago, hesitantly reaching out the grab her hands. She froze for a few moments before taking his hand in hers. Friends could hold hands, right? 

"You're not going to cuff me this time are you?" She laughed through the tears.

"No," He chuckled, "but, we do need to talk."

She nodded looking up at him wiping her tears with her free hand, he wanted to reach up and help her wipe away her tears, but friends didn't do that. That's what they were friends, that's what he told himself, anyway.

"So," She began, "Have they been able to get the eye back up?"

"No," He shook his head, "not yet. What's your plan?" He asked, "You know the plan to 'take out my sister'?"

"I don't have one yet," She admitted, "I don't actually want to kill her," She paused, biting her lip, "Just maybe put her out of power."

"We could do that," Bellamy agreed, "we just have to figure out how, and figure out how to save the others before Diyoza realizes what's going on," Clarke nodded in agreement, but said nothing. They sat in silence the question of 'how?' lingering between them. How could they stop Octavia? Bellamy froze, he had an idea. He looked up at Clarke, squeezing her hand to get her attention, "I have an idea," He began. She looked down at him, her eyebrows knitted. He cleared his throat, "It's not the best idea, and you're not going to like it," He told her grimacing.

"No," She hissed yanking her hand away from his, she already knew what he was going to say. She would not put Madi in that kind of situation.

"Clarke," He begged reaching for her, "listen, I'm not saying it's the ONLY idea or that we HAVE to do it, but we should at least consider it as an option."

"I'm not putting Madi in that kind of situation, Bellamy. This is bullshit. Complete and total bullshit!" She seethed, "You don't even care about me or Madi. The only person you care about is Echo! You don't care who you put in danger as long as Echo is okay!"

Bellamy shot to his feet, "I don't care about you?" He shouted, "That," He paused inhaling deeply as he began pacing rubbing a hand across his rigid jaw, "That," he repeated, "Is total bullshit," His eyes began to water, "For the last six years, I thought you were dead Clarke. I never got over losing you, every damn day I tried to use my head trying to figure out the best way for us to survive," his voice cracked, "trying to think the way you thought, trying to do what you would do. I made sure that you didn't die in vain. I tried to make sure that everything we did you would support," He took another pause wiping tears from his eyes. "Bell-" Clarke began.

"No," He interrupted her, "I'm not done!" he said. He stopped in front of her, swallowing hard and looking into her eyes, "We were trapped up there," He explained, "Raven couldn't get us home. Our coms didn't work. It was just the seven of us, we didn't think we'd ever make it back to the ground, that we'd all die up there. Murphy wouldn't talk to anyone, all we got to eat was fucking algae," he squatted down in front of Clarke rubbing his hands up and down his face again.

"Bellamy," She began again, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged her off standing up to pace again.

Bellamy was furious, he could hear her voice, but the words didn't make any sense. How in hell could she think he didn't care? She was one of the few things he thought about when he made a decision, but he didn't care! He was still pacing rubbing the back of his neck. He was about to continue his rant when the radio went off.

"Bellamy?" Harper came across the radio.

He stopped in his tracks swallowing hard, "Yeah?" he asked.

"We need you guys to come down here, Madi needs to talk to you." She radioed back.

Bellamy glared over at Clarke, his eyes still watering, "We'll be there in a moment," He told Harper.

"Bellamy," Clarke tried again.

"Not now Clarke," he growled throwing the tent flap open and storming out.

Clarke quickly followed Bellamy staying close at his heels. They made their way as quickly as they could into the bunker without drawing too much attention and made their way to the control room. When they walked in, they were not only greeted by Monty, Harper, and Madi but Gaia and Indra as well.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bellamy asked vehemently.

Clarke quickly made her way to Madi's side, "Are you okay?" She questioned giving her a once over.

"Yeah," Madi nodded, "I'm fine," She paused, "Listen, Clarke," She began, "I want Gaia to make me the next Commander," Bellamy and Clarke's eyes both turned to Gaia, "What the hell?" Clarke asked, 

"You said you wouldn't push that on her!"

"She's not!" Madi insisted turning all eyes back to her, "Octavia can't remain in power, she wants to release those parasites and poison the only water source, she doesn't understand Clarke," Madi paused making sure she had everyone's attention, "There needs to be someone else in charge and I don't want it to be me," she insisted, "but I don't see another option, I'm the last REAL nightblood, and that might mean something to them," she finished pointing towards the door.

"She's right," Indra said, "As much as I hate to admit it a new commander may be just what we need, Octavia needs to lose her power, she hasn't been the same, not since Lincoln died, not since we came down here."

"You can't be serious," Clarke said, looking around for anyone to agree with her, but everyone remained silent. She even looked to Bellamy who still looked angry and just shrugged, "We need to talk about this alone," She told Madi, grabbing her arm.

"No," Madi said, shaking her head and pulling away, we need to all talk about this together, "These are the people we can trust Clarke, these are the people you've told me stories about, the people who understand that something needs to happen. Something other than what Octavia says, and it needs to happen soon before they get a chance to send out those parasites!" Madi argued.

Clarke glanced around the room sighing in defeat, "fine," Clarke agreed with a hardened expression, "we'll do it your way, but we need a plan."

[andthelightbulbclicks]

Hi! Looooveee your writing, you're so talented!! Anyway, im still sad that bellarke are separated for 6 years , could you do one where Clarke made it back in time to leave with the rest of the gang + bellamy , and like, how it would be if she were with them ? that would be cool. ❤️

Hi! Thank you, you are so kind!! This was interesting to write, since my hiatus project is all about them in canon-verse during those six years, but it was fun to think about.. Thanks for the prompt :D [ao3]

“It’s now or never,” Raven tells him, regret in every wordshe speaks.

Bellamy looks towards the upper level again, silently begging.Come on Clarke, come on Clarke.

“Just,” Bellamy says, refusing to look away from thelanding, “just one more minute. Give her one more minute.”

Raven sighs behind him, and he can hear her shuffling at thedoorway of the ship. “Sixty seconds. We can’t even afford that. I’m going tostart launch, if you’re not in here in the next fifty seconds, I won’t be ableto stop it from leaving you too.”

Bellamy nods, eyes laser focused on the spot where Clarkeshould emerge, where she will emerge.

He hears the others’ voices echoing out from the ship, buthe can’t focus on them when he hears a loud crash from up above, right fromwhere the lab’s entrance to the outside is.

And then, he sees the most beautiful sight in his entirelife – Clarke, practically clawing her way towards the railing.

He opens his mouth, ready to holler to her to hurry the hellup, they need to go now, when she spieshim, and freezes right at the top of the stairs.

“What are you doing?”She yells, sounding angrier than he’s ever heard her.

He doesn’t even have time to be confused before he picks upon the absolute fury lining every part of her body as she barrels down thestairs and straight towards him. Bellamy can do nothing but watch as shereaches him, and grips the front of his suit as best as she can through herthick gloves.

“Bellamy Blake,”she growls, chest heaving with every breath she takes, “get on that goddam ship!”

He’s so focused on accepting the fact that she’s actuallyhere, that she made it, that it takeshim a second for his eyes to catch on the crack in her helmet and the raw panicin her eyes. And he knows she’s not scared for herself.

She’s petrified for him.

So he forces his legs to move, both of them dragging eachother along until Clarke shoves him in front of her to climb the stairs to theship. She keeps pushing him, following right behind him until both of them areplowing into the ship and everyone else is staring at them in silent shock.

“It’s about fucking time,” Raven tells them, her handsmoving to flick some switches. “You had five seconds, now shut the damn doorand buckle the fuck up.”

This time, Bellamy’s the one pushing Clarke, right into oneof the two remaining seats next to each other before he reaches for the latchto shut the ship’s entryway, not even glancing back as the large doors slideclosed in the lab.

He’s back to Clarke almost instantly, his entire body onalert as he checks her over, trying to help get her buckles in place, becauseshe’s panting and shaking, and he knows she must have practically killedherself sprinting to get back in time.

But she pushes him off, still gasping for air, but pointingto his own empty seat. “Please Bell,”she breathes.

He knows what she’s asking without her having to say it, sohe slides into the seat next to her, tightening his own buckles even as hewatches to make sure hers are secured too.

“Opening launch door,” Raven calls.

“Did you get the power on?” Murphy asks Clarke, as he gripsEmori’s hand.

Clarke nods, still clearly out of breath, or completelyoverwhelmed. “Had to climb a fucking tower to do it,” she huffs, almosthysterical.

Raven smirks. “Initiating countdown.”

She hits one final switch.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6…

Bellamy turns to Clarke, can’t look away when she closes hereyes and tilts her head back until her helmet is leaning against the ship’swall. He’s so engrossed in her that he almost startles when her gloved handreaches for his, and he’s momentarily brought back to another time when hegripped that hand like it was his only lifeline.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

He holds on tight, squeezing her hand once, twice. Shedoesn’t open her eyes, but she smiles in relief, and Bellamy doesn’t know whathe would have done if he never saw that smile again.

—

His own rising panic had subsided as soon as he knew theywere all safe in that ship. He didn’t care that they were going back to theArk, or that he was currently in a rocket. They were all alive, they were goingto make it.

And then they hit the break in the atmosphere, and thatcrack in Clarke’s helmet splinters into five more, stretching across the widthof the glass.

He knows what that means even before Raven skywalks to theArk as fast as she can to open the door, and Clarke’s oxygen goes critical.

By the time they’re actually running through the hallways toget oxygen flowing through the Ark, Emori and Murphy are supporting Ravenbetween them, and Bellamy is dragging a near-unconscious Clarke.

The moment he can take his helmet off, he rips hers off too,and gives her whatever oxygen he has left.

He later finds out that it’s Echo who flips the breaker, savingthem all.

And that she’s the one who dragged Clarke, and then Bellamy,towards the vents giving them air.

—

“Is the water filtration system functional?” Clarke asks,and Raven grunts in affirmation as she paces back and forth to check between aset of wires she’s working on and the computer screen Monty got running.

“And how about the algae farm?” Bellamy adds. He sees Clarkenod her head in agreement, as if that was the next question she was going tospew off to Raven.

“And what about–,” Clarke starts, only to be cut off by Raventhrowing her hands in the air.

“Enough!” She says sternly, but not unkindly. Bellamy looksat her in surprise, as does Clarke. At their reactions, Raven’s face gentles.“Enough,” she repeats. “It’s been over twenty-four hours since we got here, andyou both have been badgering me and Monty nonstop. You both need to go andrest.”

It’s true, but that doesn’t mean either of them are willingto admit it. There’s so much that only Monty and Raven can do, but he andClarke haven’t been willing to accept that there’s time to take a break. Montyjust left a little while ago with a yawn, dragging his feet to go find Harper.The others had gone searching for any soft surface to lay on hours ago.

“You need to rest too,” Clarke grumbles, avoiding looking atBellamy now that their focus has been pulled from what needs to be done.

Raven just shakes her head exasperatedly. “I did. You two were so busy heckling Montyabout the heating system and how he shouldn’t be straining his hands so heshould tell you guys what to do that you didn’t even realize I disappeared fora few hours.”

And now that Bellamy thinks about it, there was a point afew hours ago where there was a break in Raven grunting and muttering at themin frustration.

Raven must see something in the way Bellamy sighs, becauseshe pushes on, as if sealing her victory. “I promise that by the time you twowake up, I’ll have a full report on everything you’ve been hounding me about.”

Clarke opens her mouth, looking ready to put up a fight, soBellamy gently grasps her elbow, pulling her attention to him. “She’s right,” hetells her, ignoring the snort Raven gives. He wants to tell Clarke that out ofall of them, she probably needs the rest the most since she was the mostoxygen-deprived, but he knows she would only argue further. So instead, he letsgo of her arm and tilts his head toward the door to the control room, andstarts to leave.

“Just a quick nap,” Clarke agrees reluctantly, following himout of the room. He thinks he vaguely hears Raven say ‘thank god’ as the door swings shut behind him.

He turns around to make a joke about it, but he’simmediately met with two small hands shoving him back, and a very angry Clarke.“You idiot,” she whispers, somehowmanaging to sound furious even as she keeps her voice low so Raven can’t hear.

He’d be surprised by the reaction if he hadn’t expected itthe moment everyone was breathing again and laughing breathlessly that they hadmade it.

When it didn’t happen immediately, he knew she was stallingby staying and pestering Raven and Monty with question after question. He knewthe minute they were alone, she would explode with the anger that’s beensimmering just under her skin. But he wouldn’t leave her side, not when theyalmost lost each other.

“I told you to use your brain, not launch it out of yourhead and forget you even had one!” She whisper-shouts. “You could have died.”

“If we hadn’t waited, you would have,” he points out, impressed with how calm he sounds, evenas the thought of Clarke being left behind on that burning planet makes himnauseous.

“The night blood could have worked,” she reasons, poking hischest with a finger.

He reaches his own hand out to hold hers in place. “That wasa hypothetical that I didn’t want to test with your life.”

Clarke’s nostrils only flare in response, and he just wantsher to go sleep. She looks exhausted and pale and the last thing he wants to dois whisper passive-aggressively to each other until they’re truly shouting.

“Look,” he sighs, wanting to just hold her, assure himselfthat she’s really, truly here. But he also doesn’t want her to pull away. “Idid use my head. I used my heart too, just like you said I needed to in orderto keep everyone alive. And my head, my heart,” he moves her hand to rest flatabove his heart, “every piece of me all the way to the tips of my fingers andmy toes, told me that if I closed that door on you, if–,” he pauses, thethought making his stomach plummet, “if I left you there, it would have beenthe greatest regret of my life.”

For a moment, Clarke just stares at him, openly gaping.Bellamy thinks she might actually punch him in the face for taking that risk.

Instead, she reaches her other hand out for him, and wrapsher arms around him like she had done in that office in the lab, locking herhands behind his back like she’s never going to let go. “When I saw youstanding in front of that rocket, it was the best and worst thing I have everseen in my life,” she admits hoarsely into his t-shirt.

Bellamy’s responding chuckle is wet with emotion. “Seeingyou in that awful jumpsuit was the most beautiful thing,” he tells her, leaningdown to place a chaste kiss to her forehead, her skin clammy. “Can we not beangry about me wanting to wait and just be happy that all eight of us got herein one piece?”

He feels her tears soaking into his shirt, and the realizationhits him, slamming into his gut.

They’re all alive.For once, no casualties.

He grudgingly pulls away so that he can see her shining blueeyes. “I just want you to take a nap, Clarke. I need to nap. So can we please just go and find rooms with beds sowe can sleep? I think we’ve earned that much.”

Clarke nods her head once more, looking down at the tearsshe left on him before looking back up at him. “Or we can find one room, onebed. So we can take a nap together,” she hedges, not daring to be the one tobreak eye contact first.

Bellamy’s breath whooshes out of him, a surprised chuckleescaping him. “Yeah?”

She rests her forehead against his chest. “I don’t think Ican let you out of my sight for a while. The last time I did, I accepted that Imay never see you again, and I never want to feel that again,” she says, anddespite her words, he can hear the smile in her voice.

Bellamy takes her hands, starting to pull her further downthe hall to where an Ark-issued bed has their names written all over it. Theyfall into a blissful, deep sleep, arms wrapped around each other, clinging toone another.

And to Raven’s utter delight, they sleep well past what canappropriately be called a nap, letting her work in peace for hours.

[sassqueenblake]

are you still wanting prompts? If you are, could you please write a bellarke reunion fic where they stumble into each other in the woods with a twist. the twist being that after primfya clarke lost her memory and does not remember anything from before the death wave

What the Wave Washed Away

The hearty smell of dirt,foliage, and running water was a scent that Bellamy Blake was sure he hadforgotten. However, as his heavy footfalls resounded through the thick forest,his sense were assailed with everything Earth. The old yet familiar sounds oftrickling streams, breeze through tall pines, and the crunch of dense leavesbeneath his boots all echoed in his ears as he reacquainted himself with hisformer home.

They had landed on the edge ofEden four days ago, nearly missing the four percent of Earth that hadn’t beenaffected by the Death Wave. Slowly, the group was making their way towardsPolis to survey the damage from the past five years, but there was a vastportion of land between the nutrients and comfort that Eden held and the rubbleof the Grounder city.

The ground beneath Bellamy’s feetbegan to incline, and he shortened his quick strides. He had missed the varyingterrain of Earth over the past five years, and his lungs were protestingagainst the strenuous exercise. But Bellamy didn’t care.

Earth was the last place thatheld any kind of fond memories for him. Earth was the last place he had seenClarke Griffin. Being back here felt good in that he felt closer to her, but italso hurt beyond belief because…she wasn’t here.

She would never roll her eyes athim calling her Princess. She would never talk to him about oxymoron’s. Shewould never be there to remind him why the world needed him.

He would never get to tell herwhat she meant to him. He would never get to see her crystal blue eyes shiningin the sunlight. He would never see her bright smile, utterly and completelycarefree.

As Bellamy reached the pinnacleof the rise, he paused to take in the view before him. Tall trees, dense flora,and streaming sunlight were sprawled before him, glowing emerald against thebright blue sky. Bellamy took a deep breath, his dark eyes focusing on nothingas they began to cloud with unshed tears.

He wished with all of his beingthat Clarke was beside him on that ridge, overlooking the newborn beauty ofEarth. Bellamy closed his eyes, and the tears rolled down his face before hewiped them roughly away with his thumb. He sniffed loudly and began descendingdown the face of the rise when movement to his left caught his attention.

He froze, unsure if the rustlingin the bushes was an animal or not, and if so, how friendly it might be.

He felt himself blink one, two,three times when he saw a head of short, blonde curls rise from the thickgreenery. He felt the air rush from his lungs as the figure turned to face him,her face distracted as she scanned the forest floor.

“Clarke.” Bellamy breathed, hisfeet frozen in place as his heart pounded in his ears. He felt a familiar heat thathe had known when she was around him, spread through his chest as it filled thehole her loss had left in his heart. Bellamy forced his feet to move quietly,so as not to scare her. As he closed, he saw that there was a red hue at theends of her blonde curls; he liked it.

Bellamy stopped a few pacesbefore her. Clarke lifted her eyes and froze as their gazes collided. Shelooked startled rather than relieved or surprised, which puzzled Bellamy.

Bellamy swallowed, his throat dryand his tongue thick in his mouth. Suddenly, Bellamy smirked, cocking his headto the side as he did when they were kids.

“Hey, Princess. You taking a walkin the woods?” Bellamy’s smile widened as he spoke.

Bellamy watched as Clarke’s faceshowed no sign of change but simply stared at him, as if deciphering hisperson. Her eyes scanned over his body, her brows furrowing in concentrationbefore she spoke.

“I’m not your Princess. Who areyou?” Clarke demanded, the furrow in her brow deepening.

Bellamy’s brows quirked inquestion, his footing faltering on the uneven floor of the forest.

“Clarke?” Bellamy questioned,disbelieving what he was hearing and seeing.

“How do you know my name?” Sheground out, her hand tensing around a knife Bellamy hadn’t seen.

“Clarke, it’s me. It’s Bellamy,”He didn’t know how to make her understand. Hedidn’t even understand. “Do you not… remember me?”

Clarke blinked at the sadness inthe man’s voice, but shook her head.

She saw him visibly deflate, hisface crumpling in confusion. He ran a hand down his face, and Clarke kept afirm hold on the knife at her side, unsure of the man’s intentions.

“Your name is Bellamy? Bellamywhat?” Clarke asked quietly, caution still flowing through her veins.

Bellamy sniffed as his eyesfocused back on Clarke. “Bellamy Blake. That’s my name.”

“Where did I meet you, BellamyBlake?” Clarke questioned, her eyes narrowing.

“We met five years ago. We weresent down from the Ark. Do you remember the Ark?” Bellamy asked gently.

Clarke’s brow furrowed as shedebated whether to trust the stranger. Finally, she gave in.

“I remember my parents. Theirnames were Jake and…”

“Abby Griffin,” Bellamy finished.“Your mom is Abby Griffin.”

“How did you know that?” Clarke’seyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I’ve known you and your mom forfive years. She came down a few weeks after we did.” Bellamy explained.

“Why don’t I remember meetingyou? Why don’t I remember anything you’re telling me?” Clarke asked,frustration etched in her features.

“I think the Death Wave had someeffect on your memory. We were so worried about surviving the radiation levels,we weren’t really concerned with any side effects.”

“The Death Wave… That’s why thetrees are scorched and the rivers are dry, right?”

“Outside of Eden, yeah. Only fourpercent of the Earth was going to be untouched by the radiation wave, andthat’s where we are now.” Bellamy gestured to the trees surrounding them.

Clarke shook her head as tearsclouded her eyes.

“I don’t understand.” Shewhispered as she rubbed her forehead, pain written in her eyes as she attemptedto remember anything from the past after her time in the Sky Box. She tooksmall steps towards a small boulder before seating herself on it.

“We have to go back to camp,Clarke. The others, they’re going to be so excited to see you after all thistime,” Bellamy huffed a laugh. “I’m still not sure I’m not dreaming this upright now.”

“I don’t remember the otherseither.” Clarke admitted quietly from her seat on the boulder.

“Don’t worry about that rightnow. They remember you, and I know they’ll kill themselves before they give upon you remembering them someday.” Bellamy smirked softly.

Clarke’s gaze fell to the groundas she processed. Bellamy’s next words shocked her.

“I thought you were dead,Clarke.” He whispered brokenly. Clarke’s gaze flew to his face, and she saw theface of a man tortured.

“Let me guess…” Clarke began. “Wewere supposed to leave because of the Death Wave, but something came up… We gotseparated somehow, and I was left behind?” Clarke asked slowly. Bellamy noddedin confirmation, his mouth a firm line.

Clarke nodded slowly.

“Did you remember that?” Bellamyasked softly.

“No,” Clarke shook her head andsighed. “But if what you’re saying is true, and we really are friends, youdon’t seem like the kind of person to simply leave someone you consider afriend behind without a good reason. Impending death being one.” She finishedwryly, a small smirk toying at the corner of her mouth.

Bellamy chuckled at that. “Thatsounds like the girl I remember.”

Clarke gave him a small smile.She was still hesitant, but there was something about this man that felt right. She couldn’t identify why or whatit was exactly, but Clarke knew that something about this Bellamy Blake wasgood.

“How do I know if I can trustthese others you’ve mentioned?” Clarke asked suddenly, her walls erecting onceagain.

“You don’t have to,” Bellamyshrugged, leaving his reply open.

Clarke looked up at the freckledman before her, and Bellamy say a glimmer of recognition in those infuriatinglyblue eyes. Before he could say anything, she smiled, a sigh of relief escapingher lips.

“I trust you.” Clarke breathed quietly.

Bellamy’s eyes widened slightlyat her words. He felt his mouth widening into a grin before nodding slightly.Clarke stood, a feeling of familiarity, a memory of the wood in the dark, theweight of having longer hair, Bellamy with scars littering his face as hesearched hers earnestly.

Clarke offered her hand to him,and Bellamy took it gladly as he laced their fingers together, the couplemaking their way back towards camp, back to their roots.

Available on AO3 and FF.net. I hope this fic met expectations, anon! Thank you for the prompt!

[togetherwithmistakes]

So I went to the Bob Morley panel at Ottawa Comic Con (yes I’m still screaming internally) and based on what he said I doubt Bellarke is happening this season (meaning anything romantic being confirmed). I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think so. Bob was saying that especially after what happened in 4x11 their relationship/partnership is gonna need a lot of work to repair. And that Bellamy, in Bob’s opinion, needs the chance to find himself and develop his own strength before he can lean on someone else in a romantic sense. Bob doesn’t think it would be healthy for Bellamy to put that on someone else and hopes that Bellamy can find his own way to deal with what he’s done and who he’s become without having to lean on Clarke or have her around to be that person. And as much as I love Bellarke, I love Bellamy more, so I completely agree. Now he did joke around saying it’s hard to answer Bellarke questions cause he doesn’t want to give away too much, and when asked who he thought Bellamy had the strongest connection with/who influenced Bellamy the most Bob said Lincoln because their shared love for Octavia, but then said - Well there’s also Clarke, but kinda left it there. So that might just be Bob’s feelings, and certainly doesn’t dispel any Bellarke stuff from happening ie. love confessions or almost kisses (cause I totally want an almost kiss before anything real cause I love that slow burn) but that’s just the vibe I got.

Other things Bob said were: - what he’s learned from/ found most inspirational about Bellamy (my question yay) is his persistence. His ability to go on even in the face of all the horrible things that have happened to him and all that he’s done. The fact that he keeps working to do what’s best for his people and to gain back Octavia’s trust is what is inspiring about him and when he (Bob) is doing tough scenes or is really tired he thinks about the fact that Bellamy probably hasn’t slept in days and thinks in comparison to that he personally doesn’t have it so bad - His hardest goodbye on set, which took him forever to decide on, was Devon cause apparently they lived together and hang out all the time. So he said that although they’re gonna still hang out, Devon is off doing other projects so it’s going to be sad to not have him around all the time and on set - Bob says the person that most influences his portrayal of Bellamy is his older brother. He said his brother had always taken care of his family and continues to put his loved ones first and that kind of passion is what he takes from his brother and puts into Bellamy - Bob also said that in general the people that inspire him most of all are his family. He said specifically his brother and his mom, but in general his family. He said he never had posters of famous sports people on his wall, but apparently growing up his dad owned a gym and they had posters of Bruce Lee and Arnold Schwarzenegger up on the wall. Professionally he looks to Scorsese, Woody Allen, and some others I didn’t write down sorry!! - The hardest part of the job he said is that everything is so high intensity all the time and so when you’ve been on set for hours and it’s 4am and you’re exhausted its hard to remember that these are life or death decisions. He said it’s difficult to demand that level of emotion all the time and for hours on end. - he said that he would bring back Wells just to see how different their lives would be. He said it would be interesting to see how Jaha was if his son was still alive. He also said it would be an interesting dynamic if Finn was still alive as well. To see the effect on Raven and Clarke and how that would change their journey. But he specifically said Wells, and was all dramatic saying he wouldn’t even know what the show would’ve been if Wells hadn’t died. - Bob said that if he could play any character he would be Jaha, for a while he was choosing between Murphy or Jaha but then said Isaiah and Richard portray them so well and bring so much to their roles that their performances are what make them such compelling roles that he wishes he could explore. But mostly he wants to play Jaha to get into that mindset and figure out what motivates him to be so crazy - some one asked what kind of father Bellamy would be and how his children’s lives would be different than his life on the ark. He laughed about Bellamy being a dad in a sort of ‘oh god no’ kind of way, but then said in a sort of, pretend their living off the land out of the bunker kinda of scenario, the next generation would have more respect for the earth since humanity is what destroyed it in the first place. - Another question was what Bellamy wanted to be when he was 5 years old, and Bob said that because he didn’t know who his father was Bellamy would have liked to have imagined his dad was someone other people looked up to. So Bellamy would have thought that he could be a leader too, like captain of guards, or whatever he wanted to be. But as he got older that dream to be whatever he wanted was crushed by the harsh class system on the ark and he settled into the realization that he wasn’t special and that he was kind of stuck in a lower class life and that’s why he was so resentful of Clarke and Wells trying to take over on the ground - And lastly cause I can’t remember anymore right now - He said in order to take on a new character he needs to really physically get into their head space and their physical space, so he will go around and touch the walls and makes sure he feels comfortable in that place. He said he needs to find where that character’s energy sits (which makes my actor heart glow with joy omg what an *artiste*)

Sorry this turned into a really long post, but it’s only been like 12 hours since I saw him and I’m still putting all my energy into not crying every second of the day. Also just a reminder I didn’t record this, I just jotted things down, so none of this is quoted from Bob word for word. This has all been paraphrased and interpreted by me!! I didn’t change any info, or answers, just reiterating.

[hostagetakerandhisgirlfriend]

🎬 bellarke + "you think the world is ending and i’ve decided to live everyday like it’s my last and now we’re just crossing things off our bucket lists” (no tomorrow)

Thank you for this amazing request! I admit this one kind of got out of hand and I could totally see myself writing this out as a multi-chaptered fic at one point (not now though lol) Anyways, I’m sorry if there are any errors. I did do a spell check but it’s not beta’d. This is just pure Modern AU fluff, enjoy! :) also i have only seen 30 minutes of No Tomorrow’s pilot so it’s probs not like it

Clarke Griffin knew the world was ending. She just couldn’t explain it.Well, she could actually but whenever she went into the details of City of Light, and space miners and the nuclear death wave, also known as “Primfaya” people looked at her like she was saying “The world will end in 2012 because Mayans said so”. So she gave up on explaining. She just knew. And she struggled with that knowledge for a while. She was a pre-med student with great research skills and rich enough parents to put her through a well known research school and nothing more. The night she put all the pieces together was the worst night of her life. The world was ending in approximately 8 months and 4 days. Her first instinct was to save everyone. At the very least, to tell people and she started with her best friend but Raven just laughed. Again, Clarke was just a pre-med student who had read too many articles and accidentally stumbled upon some classified documents and now she knew all about hypersleep and plans to colonize the space and Bill Cadogan.

Well, that was roughly 4 months ago.

Clarke, being a pretty rational person, had told herself that she would try to convince people for 4 months and after that, she was on her own. She didn’t know what that meant exactly but she wasn’t going to waste the rest of her life trying to convince people she was right. She looked at the calender above her desk, the date was circled in red marker and she had scribbled: “Figure out what to do with the rest.”. She meant, the rest of her life. Literally.She didn’t know yet what she was going to do with “the rest of her life” but she knew she had to go to the hospital to see Bellamy. He had been in a traumatic car accident two months ago and he was being released today. They had been friends since her freshman year, so for 2 and a half years now and while they weren’t the closest, they shared an inexplicable bond. But there was a simpler reason for why she was the one that had to pick him up from the hospital, his sister was busy. When she got to his hospital room, Bellamy was sitting in a wheel chair.“Bellamy, you okay?” She asked, failing to mask her concern. She expected to see him up on his feet.

“Yeah, it’s just protocol. They’re wheeling me out of the hospital, I can walk with crutches just fine.” He shrugged lightly. There was a microscopic smile on his face, he couldn’t help but feel special whenever she worried about him.

Clarke sighed with relief in response,

“Okay, good. Are you done with all the paper work?”

“I am. Let’s go.”

“Can you pull over here?” Bellamy asked casually. Even though it was a strange request, seeing as they were in the middle of nowhere with just a small gas station near, Clarke pulled over.

“We’re fine on the gas, Bell.” She looked down to double check it.

“Yeah, I know. I just want to grab something real quick.” He grabbed his crutches and slid out the front seat.

Clarke should have followed him but being alone with him after two months of only seeing him for 15 minutes and never alone was overwhelming. She could use a break. She had forgotten how drawn to him she felt and how the air seemed to thicken whenever they were alone. Just before he got into the accident, she had told him about her discovery and they had a huge fight. Of course, seeing him in the ICU, half concious, made Clarke forget all about him calling her “crazy” and her calling him “irresponsibly stubborn”. It was difficult to explain that to her friends, of course. Raven for one could not understand why Clarke cared so much about what Bellamy thought and how she could seem to forgive him instantly. Clarke had acknowledged that she had been attracted to Bellamy from day one but she repressed her feelings for so long (because she had a boyfriend at thetime and he was straight up unpleasant to her) that once they had resurfaced, it was way beyond being a “crush”. She was in this limbo of having feelings for Bellamy that were too deep to be a crush and too platonic to be love. No one seemed to understand that. She sometimes thought maybe Bellamy knew. She pushed those thoughts away.

“Bellamy should be back by now” she murmured to herself as she leaned to look out the car window, after 15 minutes of waiting for him in the car.

Worried that he might have fallen down or hurt himself somehow, she got out of the car and walked towards the gas station. Right as she was about to enter it, she saw his silloute by a tree near the back of the building.“Bellamy!” she yelled out and walked towards him “Where the hell have you been?”

“Relax, princess, I cracked a window open, didn’t I?” Bellamy’s witty comment could not distract Clarke from the cigaratte he was holding between his fingers.

“What the hell, Bellamy?!” She launched herself at him to grab the lit cigarette from his hands but he put his hands higher so she couldn’t reach.

“I’ve always wanted to try one.” He said somewhat nonchalant.

“And?” Clarke asked bewildered.

“They’re horrible.” He coughed, the tobbaco residue in his throat still bothering him. He put the cigarette out and they walked back to the car in silence.

Clarke threw her car keys on his kitchen counter, her thoughts about “what to do with her life” creeping back into her mind. She looked at the clock hanging above his couch, it was almost afternoon. Great, she thought to herself, another day closer to Primfaya.

“Clarke…” The familiar hoarse voice pulled her back from her thoughts. Bellamy was sitting on the couch, gesturing her to join him.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

With a concerned look on her face, she sat next to him. Without her encouragement, he went on with what sounded like a speech he had prepared a while ago.

“I almost died. Clarke, I almost died and I can’t –“ He shook his head, “I can’t keep living the way I have been living.”

Clarke looked down to her hands, biting her words, trying her best not to say, Yeah, Bell, it’s not just you. None of us can keep living the way we’ve been living.

“And I’m sorry I called you crazy when you said the world was ending.” He sounded sincere but still unconvinced.

“The world is ending, Bellamy. 120 days left.” Clarke interrupted him.

He sighed and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

“The world is ending for all of us everyday, Clarke.”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been—“

“No, no. What I’m saying is, we’re all dying every second we’re alive anyway. You don’t need a dooming apocalypse to remind you to live.” The was he emphasized the last word draw Clarke in. That’s what’s been missing from her life, “living”. She had “researched” and “planned” and “hoped” for so long, when instead she should have lived. Her eyes shined as an idea formed in her mind.

“So, we make a ‘bucket list’.” Clarke asserted.

“No, that’s against the whole point. The minute you put these on a list, they’ll become tasks.” Bellamy shook his head in disagreement.

“So what do we do? Just wake up and do what we always do?” Clarke sounded disappointent, she hadn’t realized how appealing this ‘doing what we’ve always wanted to do’ idea was actually.

“We do whatever the hell we want.” A smug smile appeared on his lips.

“Whatever the hell we want?” Clarke asked lifting an eyebrow.

“Whatever the hell we want.”

She texted him that night when she couldn’t sleep, his words haunting her.

Clarke: What if making a bucket list is something I’ve always wanted to do??Read, 2:08 AM.

It took Bellamy nearly 30 seconds to reply.

Bellamy: You can’t use semantics to make me plan spontanity, Griffin.Read, 2:09 AM.

Clarke chuckled at his response and put her phone away. For the first time in many nights, she didn’t toss and turn in her bed, her brain riddled with questions and worries. The lightness of just doing what you’ve always wanted to, even the thought of it as a valid option, made her feel at peace.

Next morning, when Clarke was fixing herself her usual breakfast, scrabbled eggs and toast, her phone buzzed.

Bellamy: So what’s the plan for today, Princess?Clarke: Ha ha, very funny Blake. No plans, remember?Bellamy: Yeah but you still need to do something with your day… What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?

Clarke sighed, she wasn’t sure this was the most responsible way to deal with mortality but she was so tired of being the responsible one all the time. A smile played on her lips as she pondered her response. Bellamy must have realized she was taking her time,

Bellamy: No thinking. Quick. What have you ALWAYS wanted to do?

Clarke: Have my art showcased in a gallery. I’ve always wanted my painting to be hung on a gallery wall, framed and everything.Read, 10:48 AM.

When Bellamy didn’t respond for two hours, she got discouraged. Had she said something stupid? Yeah, painting was just a hobby for her but was it so outrageous that she wanted something of hers that she poured her soul into to be feautured on a gallery wall where everyone could see? She made herself a cup of coffe and sat on her couch, her instincts screaming at her to continue her research, find a way to survive this. Find a bunker, or something. Her binder of rationing plans, her map of where the radiation would be the least severe, the book Second Dawn were scattered on her coffee table. She leaned down and grabbed a piece of paper. On top she scribbed, “Bucket List”. Bellamy was right, just writing the words down made her tense up in her shoulders. Her phone buzzed again.

Bellamy: Meet me at 42nd and Locust. In 15.

When Clarke got there, exacty 15 minutes after she got the text, she saw him waiting by a cute coffee shop with a mid-sized canvas tucked under his right arm.

“Hey!” She waved as she walked towards him. “What’s with the canvas?”

Bellamy showed the painting to her. It was one of hers.

“You kept it?” she asked in disbelief. Bellamy never mentioned her art much and when she had given him the painting as a house warming gift, he had curtly thanked her and she assumed it was too much.

“It’s a gift from you, of course I did.” He smiled. He suddenly grabbed her hand,

“There’s an exhibit I’ve been wanting to see, let’s go.”

He lead her to an underground art gallery. Clarke knew this one, it was a really hipster art gallery. The last stop before making it “big” for many artists.

“No…” she gasped. “Bellamy, no, not here.”

“Why not? It’s not like it’s MoMa or something.”

“Yeah but—“ Clarke gestured to all the art surrounding them “I’m not –“

“Relax, Clarke. I’ve got this.” He walked confidently towards the end of the corridor. He turned left onto a small nook.

“Ah, yes. It’ll go great here.” He sounded pleased with himself.

“Are we really doing this?” Clarke asked, her exciment shining through her eyes. “I mean, Alexander Piquet, that’s one of my favorites.” She gestured to the painting next to the empty wall space Bellamy was sizing for the canvas.

“Yes. We are. Just go be my look out.” Bellamy sounded exaspareted but she could tell he was having a good time too. It was strange for Clarke to see him so lighthearted, he was usually always worrying over his little sister.

“What’s taking so long?” She looked at him over her shoulder. He was trying to balance himself on one leg as he used two of his hands to stick a piece of paper on the wall under the canvas.

“You wrote a description?” She asked in a hushed tone but amused.

“Of course, it’s gotta blend in, right?” Bellamy looked up at her. “It’s hard to do this with a broken leg, though.”

Clarke walked over to him and gently placed her hands on his waist, to help him stay balanced. When they were done hanging the framed canvas on the wall, Bellamy took a step back and looked at her.

“There’s a guided tour in 40 minutes, you in?”

Clarke laughed at the thought of her painting being featured on a tour. That she could not miss.

“I cannot believe, the tour guide just improvised.” Clarke kept chuckling at the memory of the baffled tour guide when he got to her painting. She was driving Bellamy home but she was so amped up on adrenaline that she couldn’t stop smiling.

“He was going to ignore it, go past it at first but –“ Bellamy was almost as giddy as she was.

“Yeah, you asked him stupid questions he couldn’t ignore.” Clarke slowly pulled up at his house.

“Well, I paid good money for that tour and I’m getting every pennies’ worth.”

Clarke tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled.

“I had fun. Thank you for today.”

“So did I.” He smiled back and manuvered to get out of her car.

“I want to do something you want to do tomorrow.” She blurted out. After a day like this, going back to her doomsday plans seemed so boring.

“Gun range, 2 pm. I’ll pick you up.” Bellamy winked.

“No, I’ll pick you up.” She gestured to his broken leg.

“Oh, right. You pick me up.” He lightly touched her shoulder, “Get some rest, “rising artist Griffin”, tomorrow’s going to be a long one.”

And it was. But not in a bad way. Days with Bellamy were never long in a bad way. He was so excited to be at a gun range. His eyes shinning with a sense of glee Clarke had never recognized in Bellamy before. At first, Clarke only watched him with her ear muffs and protective glasses on.

“Come on, Clarke!” He kept asking for her to join in on the fun. Clarke had never pictured herself with guns before.

“No, I’ll just watch.” She kept refusing, besides she was having more fun watching Bellamy beam at the guns and fist bump the air every time he hit his mark.

After a good 45 minutes, Bellamy put the gun down and turned to face her.

“Are you just afraid you’re going to suck at it?” He was making that thing where he slightly crooked his head and smiled at her with the corner of his lips.

She suddenly found herself flustered. Blood rushing to her cheeks, she crossed her arms in front of her and tried to match his smug tone.

“No, I’m just not a “gun girl”, you know?”

He must not have bought her response because he just gazed at her with his smile fixed on his lips.

“C’mon! I’ll show you.” He insisted.

“You know what? Fine. I can be a bit of a ‘badass’.” She walked towards the shooting point.

He chuckled at her response.

“There you go! Alright.” He sounded excited. He cleared his throat and proceeded to show her how she should hold the gun. Placing her index finger on the trigger, adjusting her posture. He gently placed his hand on her elbow and she swore she could feel her heartbeat getting faster.

“And now, shoot.” He spoke softly to her ear and slowly stepped away.

She pulled the trigger and stubbled a little after the gun fired. She couldn’t help the laughter escaping her lips.

“Is it bad that, that felt good?” she asked incredulous.

“No, just adrenalin.” He shook his head and encourged her to take another shot.

Two weeks went by like this. It was either her or him texting the other with spur of the moment “plans” to fill their days and check things off from their “not written out” bucket list. Clarke still worried though. She tried her best to hide away her doomsday plans but her calender still haunted her. She was also afraid that Bellamy would realize this wasn’t a sustainable way to live. Clarke didn’t mind as much, because she knew the world would be swallowed up in a nuclear wave pretty soon but he was just doing this because he didn’t want to be 70 and never have been to a firework show. She knew they wouldn’t make it to 70, which made everything they did bitter sweet. Some days were more bitter than sweet though. Like the day Bellamy texted her out of the blue with just one word.

Bellamy: Pie.Read, 3:16 PM

Clarke: Okay?Bellamy: Apple pie. I really want apple pie today.Bellamy: No, I want to find the BEST apple pie in the city.Clarke: Let me get this straight, you want to go bakery hopping?Bellamy: I’ll be there in 20. Wear your sweatpants.

So they went bakery hopping. The first few they just went into bakeries and tried their apple pies like normal customers but after the 4th one, eating apple pie and writing down notes weren’t as fun anymore so Clarke started making up stories. To her utter pleasure, Bellamy followed her lead. At one, they were shopping for a friend’s surprise birthday who hated cake, the other they were looking for catering for a dog contest with the theme “Fall”, another they pretended to be an engaged couple and Clarke tried to talk him out of having pie at their “wedding”. It was a fun, sugar crazed day over all so it caught Bellamy off guard when she started crying as they walked to her apartment. His leg was better and he was walking with a cane now.

“Clarke…” His was voice hoarse with thousand worries, he cupped her face and wiped away a stray tear from her cheek with his tumb. Clarke leaned into his touch.

“The world is ending, Bellamy.” Her voice cracked as she said his name.

“I know you believe that but –“ He took a step back.

“I can’t even convince you. I have the research, I have the maps. Primfaya is coming. We shouldn’t be doing whatever the hell we want, we should be trying to find a bunker, talk to the authorities.” She sounded so determined and focused.

“You don’t have to carry this on your shoulders Clarke. Even if you’re right, with only a few weeks left, there’s nothing you can do.”Clarke sighed.

“So what do we do now?”

“This.” He lift his hands up. “This is what we do now.”

Clarke looked at her feet and felt a rain drop land on her head.

“What’s something else you’ve always wanted to do?” As the words left his mouth, they heard a loud thunder. The rain started pouring down on them. Clarke laughed lifting her face up. She closed her eyes and let the rain wash over her for a second.

“As cheesy as it sounds, I’ve always –“ she started her sentence but she couldn’t get the words out. “Nevermind.” She shook her head. “Let’s go inside.” She started to walk towards her building’s door.

“No!” He gently pulled her back. “Tell me. Is it “Gene Kelly”ing?” he asked, teasing her.

She shook her head, mildly amused.

“No, I’ve always, oh this sounds so cheesy, I’ve always wanted to kiss under the rain.” Her words hung on air for a few seconds and before she could realize what was happening, she found Bellamy’s lips on hers. “This” made sense now. She pulled him closer to her, pressing their bodies together. He tightened his grip on her waist. When their lips parted after a while, Clarke’s lips burned with the urge to keep kissing his but he placed his forehead on hers, still holding onto her waist. His hands found their way to her hair.

“And I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”