#don't worry he can fully change the properties of his fire

[fooloftheunknownworld]

Got a new pen for Christmas, so I had to do art to celebrate (Bomb head is named Arson btw).

[fable-finder]

Hippty hoppity, idk if you are taking hottakes/headcanon still but fucky you (/joking) this askbox is now my property! Also this will be long.

Going with all three games: -It is literally in the heroes' blood that their appearances change based on their own morality, morals, etc. A completely neutral hero or their kids will always have some variety of brown hair and eyes. Once corruption, evil or good deeds and purity set in, the appearance changes. No one can explain it, and while sometimes its praised or worshipped, mainly by the common folk, for the actual family or those close to them, its something to be horrified of.

-The heroes and their bloodline may or may not also just live longer than everyone else lol. They don't know why either.

Fable 2 & 3 Headcanons (warning these are mainly good/pure Sparrow stuff). Also angsty! : -Headcanon more tied to my Sparrow who is a good/pure sparrow (yes yes i know sounds boring but i hope this headcanon spices it up uwu). DIVINE RAGE BEBY! A Sparrow who is pure and good is probably hold back a LOT of stress trying to be the perfect hero for Albino so everyone gets a nice, healthy dosage of divine stress induce rage. Extra worse with a Sparrow with Will marks!

-I feel like because of this, Garth would be the most understanding towards Sparrow. Having seem them as a young child and maybe even hearing the death of Rose and Sparrow being shot and thrown out the window.

-Speaking of good/pure Sparrow, do not touch them if you have any form of corruption! Because their skin will fucking burn you! Their tears will feel like acid hitting your flesh, their grip will feel like hot molten steel straight from the forage, and even their blood hitting your skin will feel like actual fire scorching your flesh. Touching their will marks are, if they have any, is not safe either. They will shock or burn you. You are trying to touch someone divine, what the hell did you think was gonna happen?

-I fully believe Reaver would be scared of a good/pure Sparrow because of how otherworldly they are. Hammer would be a bit offput by it but figure it has something to do with the Light due to how she was raise, Garth would be worried and mournful of Sparrow, but Reaver would FEAR a good/pure Sparrow. This is a literal angel, halo and glowing holy light in human flesh, flesh he can't even breath on without feeling like something ethereal is trying to choke him out. He works with Sparrow because he has to, not because he wants to. He rather stay a thousand feet away from them.

-Good/Pure Sparrow doesn't die, they ascend :). No body to be found, no blood. Just. Gone. It's like they took off and vanished from this realm.

-That all said though. I imagine being so divine also hurts Sparrow. Like their body is actively fighting against them. It starts small, them dying their hair back to brown, them covering the weird new tattoo of wings on their back, etc. Only for them to be walking up in the middle of the night, screaming in pain as wings try to ripe through their back. They have to train their dog to help ground them, force them back into this world/realm because they are so scared of vanishing. They didn't want to become a god, they just wanted to do good. Just like Rose wanted.

-The first selfish thing the hero does, is not just shoot Lucien, it's fucking tackle and stab Lucien to death, screaming and crying about how Lucien ruined their lives and how much they hate the man. After his death and blood is on their hands, they choose love. They want their family back, they want their dog back, they want their sister back. The entire world can burn for all they can now.

-I feel like Sparrow is bitter towards Theresa. They were robbed of a childhood and become a human weapon, feeling like they merely were carrying on someone's else legacy. They feel used.

-if Sparrow has any children before Logan and Fable 3 protag, after Lucien kills them and Sparrow brings them back, Sparrow sends them away for their safety. They have to. They failed their kids once, they can't fail again. So they send them to Rose, Hammer or Garth, praying silently either of them can do a better job than they did.

-If Sparrow was good/pure, Logan witness Sparrow ascend, he is very messed up about that :). If not a pure/good Sparrow, Logan was there when Sparrow finally died/on their deathbed. Less traumatizing then seeing your parent get snatched by the heavens hfsjkd. Still traumatized tho!

-Logan started to fucking panic when he saw his mousey brown hair slowly become black

-If the Hero of Brightwall is also going down the good/pure route, Logan actually freezes in horror when he sees the telltale signs of the divinity sitting in his baby sibling.

-After Logan is dethrone and if he is spared, there is a massive drift between Logan and the Brightwall hero. They were super close as kids. The Hero of Brightwall would actively hang on or mess with Logan while Logan was more of a passive bystander to his sibling's antics. Sometimes Logan would lay on the library floor with his younger sibling, reading to them, or just staring at the ceiling with them. They would ramble about everything and nothing at the same time. What I am saying is, they were very close as kids because they were the only ones close to each other's ages since I imagine there was not a lot of kids in the castle. So the drift hurts both of them.

-If the Hero of Brightwall is good/pure, Logan lowkey scared of touching them because of what I already stated above. But when the hero has a massive panic attack and starts hyperventilating and panicking over the stress and having a full blown meltdown because WOW! MAKING A BARELY 20 YEAR OLD SHELTERED ROYAL A HERO IS NOT GOOD THERESA! Logan throws caution to the wind and buries his sibling's head in his chest, because fuck pain, his little brother or sister is crying and he has to be a good older brother!

-Sparrow is rolling in their grave or screaming from the heavens since Theresa just ruined another set of kids' lives btw. Because the woman legit turned more kids into child soldiers/tools for a prophecy. And it was SPARROW's kids too, so you know the Fable 2 hero is PISSED.

-As a funny joke, I feel like Reaver would be scared of Logan and the Hero of Brightwall too. Just full on expected the kids to be very human and normal, is promptly reminded that "oh yeah they are Sparrow's kids of course they aren't gonna be normal and also very human normal children"

-If good Hero of Brightwall can have goddamn angel wings, then Logan has fallen angel wings! Not demon wings, motherfucking black feathered wings! (aka, to show how Logan was good in his ideas, but corrupt in how he did them :D).

-Fable 3 protag and Logan one day meet their other siblings, if they have any. It is either awkward, a bittersweet reunion or just on random. Or all three since these are Sparrow's kids, they probably broke into the throne room to meet their younger siblings.

OH. MY. GOD

I FUCKING LOVE YOU FOR YOUR HC’s

Like this is so fucking good I genuinely think every one should take the time to sit and read these bc it’s so yummy is delicious I eat it up for breakfast

I never thought about the end game when it came to killing Lucien but I love the idea of seeing sparrow break down and curb stomping his ass it just feels so raw and real I feel like it’s what I need. It would Fr make such a good fic. I like the idea of sparrow remaining mostly silent throughout the whole game and just at the end getting the chance to snap and let it all out. I had a HC for a while that Sparrow is nonverbal due to stress over the years and years after game they slowly start to talk a bit after finding a purpose outside of what was forced upon them by Threasa and I feel like this would be such a cool idea to bring that into

I love to think of the effects that Theresa has on the people she used, mostly when it comes to Sparrow and Hammer. Hammer was always compared to Sparrow by her in game and we can see this had a effect on Hammer. I want to do a deep dive into Hammer bc she is dead ass my fav fable character ever and I love her. The song “Brutus” dose such a good job of explaining how I think she feels it’s crazy

Like no one wanted this for themselves and after game both Hammer and Sparrow probably feel like they lost a major part of there identity’s due to there whole goal being revenge for years and once they get it they truly have nothing left. Hammer has no one to go home to and Sparrow just spent the better half of 30-40 years being ran around by some women who used them to get a tower

I also think that Sparrow has a lot of paranoia due to Theresa being up in the spire and virtually unstoppable because she can see the outcomes to almost anything Sparrow could try and do to her

Grief is something that Theresa uses time and time again to her advantage. She uses it on Lucian, Sparrow, and Hammer in very very similar ways. Lucian is supposed to show what you can become, yes Sparrow is acting on revenge and the end goal is different but it’s the same hurt that drives them and after everything we end up bringing back our family just like Lucien wanted to do for him self in the beginning

I could rant about this all day dead ass should start posting character breakdowns on YT one day

Sorry for grammar in advance I have dyslexia and it’s 3 am

[thevanillerose]

NOT THE ANSWER | MARKUS x READER | DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

“Markus, you know this. If you take that approach you'll alienate the public! Nobody will want to support you!”

North had her convincing ways, but you were trying your damn hardest to make Markus understand that there wasn't just one option here. He had stormed away from you as soon as you had tried to talk to him, but when he was soon enough cornered in a room at the back of Jericho he just flopped down in the nearest seat and put his head in his hands.

You pulled one over to join him, and gently touched his back.

“I want you to understand that things will be alright. You just have to trust me. Violence begets violence, it won't put us anywhere but a landfill.”

His hands slipped slowly down his tan face and revealed his heterochromatic eyes. They flitted over to you before he let out a heavy sigh and sat up properly in his seat.

“We're not making enough progress [Y/N]. North might be right. If we use force they'll have no choice but to listen to us.”

“And what would you rather be seen as when they do listen, Markus?” you questioned sternly, “A placid beacon of hope for a new kind of people? Or a raging, hateful opposer to the human race? Because getting aggressive is only going to send you down one of those routes.”

“...” Markus had turned silent again. He shifted out of his seat but of course you followed, pinching the tip of his sleeve before he could walk away from you again.

“Don't ignore me when you know I'm right, Markus.”

“Then what am I supposed to do!?”

He suddenly turned around and looked at you, artificial brow furrowing downwards with distress.

“Am I meant to just sit around and wait patiently for them all to change their minds, while they carry on degrading and slaughtering our people?”

“No. If you have to sit, it'll be on the front lines of a protest. Nowhere else.” you assured him firmly, confident in this. Enough so that your fist clenched before your chest,  “You need to be out there, showing them. Showing them that we are not that different. That we are capable of emotions, emotions that aren't anger or wrath!”

He paused, narrowing his eyes. “How am I supposed to show them anything else? When I talk to them, they don't listen. They blank out my words and fire on my allies, how am I supposed to show them any emotion but rage then?”

It was your turn to take a moment. It wasn't like you couldn't understand what Markus was going through right now. He was torn up, worried about what was the right choice to make. But you felt like you could help. Help him make the right decision, here and now.

Spotting a long jagged stain of rust on the wall, you pointed to it suddenly and held his arm with your other hand.

“Look Markus. You're the creative sort with all those paintings you do, so just imagine that's a crowd of people. The swollen bits of metal are heads looking back at you. Waiting. Just imagine their eyes on you Markus. Close your own if you have to.”

After staring at the uneven stain for a moment, he really did have to close his eyes. He couldn't quite see it how you described it, which made him wonder if you had more of a knack for creating than he did. Yet the moment he shut off his vision, he could understand clearly.

Eyes watching. A crowd of protestors, like the ones who had shoved him down and kicked him that day he went to Bellini Paints. Back then he hadn't known what to do except take it. Take it in silence.

Now he stood a chance of fighting back, but you wouldn't let him.

Why? How did you intend to fix this problem otherwise?

“...I can see them, if I think hard enough. Now what?”

You nodded, and took both his hands in your own now, encouraging him to face you fully while stretching up and pressing your own chest to his.

“Keep your eyes closed. I'm going to show you what to do in front of them...”

Show me?

Before he could even question what you meant, he felt a tender something against his lips. Soft and plush enough to feel real.

Your gentle kiss.

Markus found his own mouth parting just a little for yours, and with a tilt of the head you both connected fully in that way. Yes, a kiss between two androids had a stiffness to it, naturally. Some things were hard to perfect.

But...to onlookers...it stood a chance of changing minds and hearts. Laying the final brick in that bridge.

The two of you parted softly.

“That's all you have to do Markus.” you reached up to grace his cheek gently with your fingertips, and his own hand clasped over yours. “We just have to show them, together. Show them.”

We're not that different after all.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

[primatechnosynthpop]

Since people seem to like this au here's some details (subject for me to change my mind about on a whim)

Falin is still working on getting a degree when the others form the monsterbusters[?] She wants to join them and would be willing to drop out to do so right away, but Marcille insists she should finish her degree first (which would take another year or so) and then she can join them

Before they get fired from the university, Marcille sees her goal of finding a cure for aging as perfectly reasonable compared to Laios's interest in cryptozoology. She doesn't see why she can never get funding or anyone signing up for her focus group tests

Senshi works at a restaurant on campus, but he gets fired along with the others because their first monster encounter results in some property damage of the university's basement

Izutsumi only ended up as their secretary because her parents/guardians basically forced her to get a job, and she thought working for what sounded like a scammy business that was never going to last would be an easy way to make a few bucks. Not like they'd ever get any legitimate calls, right? She doesn't take the job seriously at all even when the calls do start rolling in, much to her employers' frustration

Chilchuck is initially supposed to be a temporary hire until Falin officially joins, but he ends up providing the real-world experience the team really needs and thus staying on as a permanent member

Shuro is the Louis analogue, and unlike Dana, Falin feels pressured to accept when he invites her to a party (at his father's house in this case). That's the event she's getting ready for when the dragon nabs her

When Falin goes dragon mode, Shuro is simultaneously turned into a harpy. They don't talk when they're possessed, instead behaving in fully animalistic ways, and the way they come together is by literally fusing into a chimera

The EPA is made up of the Canaries but also Kabru as the Walter Peck analogue. He's embroiled in some complex political drama where he's trying to bring the organization down from the inside, but this would only be vaguely hinted at because all our leads know or care about is that he's coming in and trying to shut their business down

Rather than the reagan-era "don't worry about the environment, businesses don't need regulations" rhetoric, noted environmentalist Senshi tries at length to explain that all their equipment is environmentally sound and it's the ghosts/monsters they capture, which are essentially invasive species, that pose a risk to the environment. The canaries don't listen but at least he tries

The Winged Lion is the Gozer analogue, natch. It only feels right that the climax should take place in a dungeon-adjacent setting, so they duke it out in a basement several floors below ground rather than on a roof

Thistle is/was the Ivo Shandor analogue. He probably has more of an active presence here, but it might be akin to Shandor's appearance in afterlife where he shows up only to get immediately wrecked by the lion

Laios accidentally picks his ultimate monster design as the form of the destructor, because even when told to empty his mind, he can't help thinking-- if a monster was going to appear to destroy the world, what's the coolest and strongest monster it could possibly be? (This does mean technically the last in the set of drawings I posted is inaccurate, nobody's getting soaked in marshmallow here, just good old-fashioned monster viscera)

[seyaryminamoto]

Well, this ask might be out of line from the current plot, but I hope you might like to talk about it. I searched more about the lore of the corrupted forms of bending in your blog, I think you went in detail about it in one post, though you mentioned you had no idea how that would work on other elements besides fire and went into the potential nature of generating.

Point is: corrupted bending logic is based on the usage that costumes life, but because of that I believe water can never be corrupted, because water is the sourse of life, without water there's no life. It's a universal law. I can only think of a waterbender with the power to change the properties of water from giving life into costuming it instead -- but that would make them less of a corrupted waterbender and more of an alchemist, which led me to the next point: the existence of such water independently is not impossible; an oasis works as an antistasis of sorts to the spirit oasis of the WT. Any waterbender can bend that abomination of water, it doesn't require waterbenders spiritual corruption of sorts to do so.

Earthbenders, on the other hand, have the capability to corrupt objects, such as the bloodlust spear from the warrior.

And finally, firebending, comes from within.

Frankly, I didn't reach any conclusion about how air would be like and honestly I'm afraid to even think about it lol it might simply not exist in any shape or form after all.

But yes these forms are exceptionally rare, it's a curse if you might say. And of course, there's the blessing parallel which is just as rare (gold/colorful fire and the spirit oasis).

(Gosh, sorry this was long)

Haha, don't worry about the length whatsoever, I mean, you're talking with me after all X'D

Frankly, it's a complicated subject to get into. It feels like firebenders would have it easier to be corrupted/corrupt their fire, somewhat, but by the logic that sustains what I wrote with that, all other elements should be capable of corruption too.

So, going by the logic that Seethus is, himself, a strange corruption of life force into, basically, a death force, he channels that through his bending and any bender of other elements should be able to do the same thing. As you put it, water is a source of life, so I guess... a manner of liquid poison could be corrupt water? Turning water to poison? It'd be reasonable if, perhaps, the corrupt chi somehow becomes the poison and what the waterbender in question does is somewhat inject that corrupt chi into water upon touching it? I'm not 100% set on this concept, of course, it's completely theoretical so far x'D but it's one possible way to go about it.

Earthbending corruption unintentionally resulting in giving objects life is kind of ironic but yeah, that's basically how the Spear worked. Decay and sapping of life as concepts are just really tricky to work with on an elemental level, I feel, but in terms of earth itself, I suppose a fully sterile land where nothing can grow, kind of like Mordor, could feel accurate to what corrupt earth is, when it comes to the element itself. But I'm not really sure how that would connect to earthbending, either. At least, it wouldn't combat-wise, I suppose if corrupt earthbender wanted to starve an entire community they could corrupt the farmlands that sustain it, to say one thing...

Airbending is as difficult for me as for you, I fear x'D I suppose, for me, void comes to mind. The creation of small capsules of space (maybe) where there's no air, nothing breathable, sort of? Any matter that enters that field just... dies? But I suppose that might like gravity bending maybe? x'D I suppose it might.

And yeah, the corruption and the purification (if we should call it that too) of elements can be very tricky too. Gold fire maybe could have a connection/correlation with healing water, perhaps, but I wouldn't know how to do that for airbending or earthbending either. It's a complicated thing to theorize on, mainly because this is all outside of canon (even though I did see that apparently the Kyoshi novels have done some stuff with Kuruk that is surprisingly similar to what I'm up to with the chi corruption?), so there's no definitive answer for anything.

But thanks for pondering that too! It's always interesting to discuss how this specific expansion of worldbuilding could work...

[ymiwritesstuff]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a Gyro x female reader who, because of her roguh past, has questionable morals? Like she has those "dark determination" moments like Johnny does and Gyro has to stop her from killing someone. Thank you so much for this. Don't forget you're a talented writer!

This was super super fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so so much for the amazing request once again! I love writing for you!

Trials of Fate

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 7: Steel Ball Run

Gyro Zeppeli x Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember you have been put under cruel tests by life itself and these trials have formed you into a cold, merciless individual who desires to conquer fate.

Notes: Angst, Fluff

Life was cruel. It had always been. From the moment you came to this world, life had been a constant game of survival, filled with hunger, poverty and struggling. It was as if life itself was testing you, each time forcing you to take part in its twisted trials just to stay alive. The horrible things you had to do in order to stay afloat in the sea of troubles haunted you and made you question everything. Was it truly worth it to kill someone or offer your body to someone in exchange for just a few coins? 

The constant fear of being betrayed by fate and put under a set of unforgiving trials of life caused you to desperately cling to those small amount of things you occasionally owned. You would guard your possessions with your life and put an end to anyone who tried to take anything from you. But of course, fate evaded your efforts to protect your belongings and had allowed your precious items and food to be stolen all too many times.

You saw Steel Ball Run as an opportunity for a change. A change you so desperately needed. If you could win the prize money perhaps it would all be better. You could buy a new house, you wouldn’t have to worry about staying alive and maybe, just maybe, the shadow of cruel fate would finally fade away. That one, tiny possibility gave you hope and you were determined to surpass the cruelty of life.

Still, even though life had treated you exceptionally well ever since the start of the race, allowing you to travel with two very capable and tolerable males, you couldn’t allow yourself to relax. The journey was far from over and you were sure that fate was planning to throw more misfortune your way if you allowed yourself to feel at ease too much. You had to stay sharp, eliminate all threats without hesitation and then, and only then you could hopefully live in peace.

Staring at the starry night sky above you had an odd effect on you. Despite the darkness some might consider sinister, you found strange comfort in the sight of millions of stars upon the sky, looking down at you. From the corner of your eye you see the sleeping forms of Johnny and Gyro, both of whom were most likely exhausted. It was understandable and you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t tired from the constant riding and enemy stand attacks as well, but the usual fear you held towards fate treating you poorly kept you awake, preventing you from traveling to the world of dreams. 

And due to that fear, your senses immediately caught an unfamiliar presence, followed by a sound of something -or rather, someone-, digging through your belongings. Your bag was located a good distance away from you and you immediately cursed yourself for not placing it closer. The familiar anxiety you had grown accustomed to over the years plants itself within you and you immediately get up, trying to stay as quiet as possible. The darkness surrounding the camp prevents you from seeing the thief fully, but there’s no mistake about his intentions. He’s greedily digging through your property, trying to find something worth taking. And it doesn’t sit well with you.

You silently grab a hold of your trusty handgun, the anger slowly building up. This was exactly what you were fearing and there was no way in hell you’d let this pathetic thief steal from you. Fate was testing you far too much and you were at your limit. You would not let anything get in your way again. Your (E/C) fill with burning flames of rage, a strange feeling of determination washes over you and everything around you falls under a dark veil. The only thing your mind is desiring, is the sight of this insect’s dead corpse on the hard ground, punished by you.

The man stops dead in his track when he hears a gun click behind him, followed by its muzzle pressed against the back of his head. Your merciless gaze shoots through him like a shotgun and his blood runs cold as he feels your cunning presence behind him. “Up.” You order, the man immediately doing as you say, holding his hands up as a sign of submission. Your eyes briefly glance at the ground, noticing all your belongings in tact. Fortunate for him, as you would’ve pierced him with a bullet had he actually taken something. 

“P-please.. I don-” The thief’s miserable pleas are cut off as you harshly press the gun to the back of his skull and grab him by the shoulder, turning him so he’s facing away from the camp. “Walk.” Your voice is dark and quiet, ringing in his ears like a shout that makes every bone in his body tremble. He takes a step forward, terrified of you. He hasn’t even seen you as you remain behind him, but the sheer power that radiates from your voice and presence alone make him regret trying to steal from you in the first place.

As for you, this feels good. Life was trying to make you suffer yet again and you were punishing it. The endless misfortune and agony built you into the woman you are now, so to an extent you should have been grateful. You were strong, determined to end your suffering and it would all start with this. Nothing would get in your way and there was only one way to ensure the success you have been craving for years.

Once you’re satisfied with the distance between you and the camp, you kick the thief to the ground, still pointing your gun at him. Your hand is steady and shows no signs of fear or hesitation and your eyes are filled with dark determination that desires to spill the man’s blood. The sight of the man, trembling and looking at you in terror only fuels said determination. “You’re pathetic.” Had life not been treating you so poorly, you would have probably felt sorry for the man. But in this state you’re in now, you feel nothing, hear nothing but your steady heartbeat and see nothing but the cowering man before you, begging for his life.

“This is another test, isn’t it? Fate is testing me yet again, trying to make me crumble. Isn’t that right?!” Your victim flinches at the volume of your voice and falls to the ground, shielding his head. The rage bubbling within you desires to be let out and heard by everyone. And because you can’t keep it in you any longer, that’s exactly what you do:

“I will not fall! I will conquer fate and make it regret trying to ruin my life! Do you see this?!” Your eyes lock onto the sky above you as you try to voice your determination to some higher power you’re not sure even exists. But it doesn’t matter if no one heard you as this was a moment you so desperately needed. Life has been punishing you from the very day you first opened your eyes and now, you lust for revenge. You felt powerful, invincible and the whimpering man in front of you only increases those feelings. Life was beginning to submit under your determination.

“I refuse to suffer any longer.” Your gaze returns to the unfortunate thief and you raise your gun, ready to eliminate your obstacle. You would finally get revenge on life and fate. “I will not suffer.” Your finger slowly presses the trigger, your eyes once again filled with that dark determination and lust for blood. This test wouldn’t be yet another failure.

���(Name)!” You gasp at the sudden noise and turn your head over your shoulder, only to see Gyro running at you with a terrified expression on his face. The thief takes this opportunity to scramble away from you, immediately making you shoot at him, the loud gunshot filling the air around you. Due to your hasty movements the bullet misses and your eyes fill with desperation. No! This can’t be happening!

Before you have time to fire another shot, you’re tackled to the ground by Gyro who has no idea what’s going on, but refuses to let you kill a helpless human being. The gun slips from your hand and you immediately begin struggling against your lover's grip. “What the hell are you doing?!” He shouts, grabbing your hands that try to push him away. Your mind loses all determination and instead fills with desperation, your eyes filling with tears. “Let go of me! Please! I don’t want suffer anymore!” Utter confusion makes its way onto Gyro’s features as he holds you in place, refusing to let you do anything you might regret later.

“(Name), stop it! Nothing is going to hurt you!” He tries to calm you down despite the uncertainty clouding his vision. He absolutely hates seeing you like this and wants to know exactly why you were about to shoot a defenseless man. You continue thrashing around, that fear of being betrayed by fate returning. “N-no! This was a test! And I failed! I failed again! How can I-” Your words come to a halt when you feel Gyro’s hands on each side of your face, his emerald green eyes looking into yours with increasing concern.

“Look at me, love.” His voice soothes you and for a moment, you forget everything and only focus on the man before you. “You’re fine. Nothing is going to hurt you, I promise.” A single tear runs down from the corner of your eye and the Italian gently wipes it off. Your lip quivers as you wrap your arms around Gyro. You felt stupid. So very stupid. You had failed to realize how fortunate you had been for once in your life, as Gyro had been able to bring happiness and joy into your grim and horribly unlucky life.

“I-I’m.. S-sorry..” You say as Gyro allows you to sit up, still holding his arms around your sobbing form. He’s not sure what has been going on in your mind and he doesn’t dare to ask right away. For now, he knows you need him, and he’ll be there for you as long as you need. “It’s alright, love..” He gently runs his hand along your back, bringing you an endless amount of calm and silencing your lust for revenge.

You start to think back at the way fate had decided to test you tonight, and in this very moment can’t help but to wonder if the purpose of this particular trial was to make you realize just how enjoyable your sad, pathetic life had become thanks to Gyro Zeppeli.

[cellmint]

Long Night P.2

Monster Apex Legends Au

Vamp. Crypto x Adventurer Wattson

WordCount-1965

Warning/Tags: None

Our fellow adventures reach the witch's home located on the swamps.  They meet friendly creatures a werewolf named Mirage who was wearing some cowboy clothes a friendly skeleton named Pathfinder.

Wattson open the door smiling. There was a very strong odor of herbs potions spices. A purple smoke covered the brew in which a woman was located thinking, hearing the door open she moved her attention to them.

"Hey wraith!" The werewolf turned back into his human form grabbing a piece of cloth putting it on.

Since his transformation broke his current clothing. Wattson look at the witch while Crypto follow behind observing the small house. Crypto felt bothered by the scent.

"Hello." She waved her hand.

Wraith look at Wattson and made a soft smile.

"Hello there. What brings you into these parts." Wraith ask.

"I'm in need for some potions to help Tae with his temporary amnesias he received every time he wakes up." She spoke.

"Hm... If you bring me specific items. I could help make a potion for him." Wraith spoke.

"What items?" Crypto wonder leaning against the wall.

"First im going to need a specific type of pumpkin which grows in the hallow garden its color is lights blue very rare full of magical properties. There you will meet a protector. Do be very warry of them, they are an old friend of mine." Wraith respond.

"One thing? That's great" Wattson smile.

"Multiple, then you will meet a dangerous creature located in an abandoned fun house. His very unstable." Wraith warned.

"A clown?" Crypto ask.

"...yes and no.. He knows a location of a specific serum which can be used as a fire to make the potion its very neon yellow in color and seems to be a liquid. Which ignited will help with the potions quality." Wraith spoke scratching her head.

Wattson made a smile.

"I love clowns!" Wattson smile excited.

"Then a flower from the ever lasting forest." Wraith spoke holding an image of the flower.

It was like an orchid which had a beautiful faint glow. Crypto look curious then at Wattson. He wonder if she's ready for all of these small side quests. He look worried all these dangers just for a potion to cure his temporary amnesia. He look down hearing Wraith.

"Also you need fur of a wendigo and tears of a banshee." She spoke.

". . . . excuse me what?" Crypto look surprised opening his eyes.

"Fur of a wendigo and tears of a banshee. For the potion to cure your temporary amnesia." Wraith respond.

Crypto took a sigh annoyed. It was as if he was the only one believing its not going to work. Wattson look a bit nervous which crypto took interest? Is she afraid of banshees or Wendigo?  How about both? Crypto shake his head.

"Well with those items you should be good for now." Wraith spoke.

Crypto look at Wattson getting grabbed by the back of his collar and dragged away. Surprised by her actions he wrapped his arms on his chest angry.

"Lets go le vampire." She spoke in a French accent.

While being dragged all the way. Crypto decide to walk next to her and look at her in the eyes.

"Your crazy right. We can all just decide to not do this. You might get hurt." Crypto spoke worried.

"I can handle myself Tae." She smiled confident.

"I know you can handle yourself but everyone has limits just don't push yourself too much like last times. Your a human." He respond worried.

"Tae, I'm going to be fine. This is to help you besides we can learn about other monsters!" She spoke.

".. . . . The monsters we might encounter are dangerous." Crypto look at her.

"Stop being so paranoid" Wattson respond.

"I'm not paranoid, I just want you to know that those creatures aren't like me or Wraith or mirage." Crypto spoke.

"Calm down mon'cheri" Wattson spoke.

Crypto look as her scent got stronger, his icy blue eyes slowly changed to red, he made a fist holding his arm tightly. Piercing his sharp claws on his skin before releasing from doing any harm, snapping himself awake. She's so fragile to his eyes, he wants to protect her but his a monster, he closed his eyes trusting her knowing looks can be deceiving, she's capable of doing so much on her own. The small little bat flew to his face rubbing itself on his chin. He rub the small bat with his index finger looking a bit worried.

He kept following after a long walk, both of them reach there destination but there was no garden in which wraith described, just a massive cornfield within the old rusty gates. Wattson open the fence and began walking, threw the cornfield.

As they both tried to follow the path. Crypto look to the left getting a strange feeling he was being watched, as he kept looking around he saw a couple of crows startle him and blithe.

Both crypto and wattson walk pass a scarecrow located on a piece of wood. The wood was old and broken deteriorating by age. But the scarecrow was still intact. There was something odd about it. It had an actual pumpkin on its head which looked new as if it never aged. I like the hat, wattson smile touching the scarecrow arm. It looked so real which made crypto get warry. He lead the way looking around.

They both walk for a while, something was different, it felt like they where walking in circles, but there was a twist which they notice the scarecrow was gone as they returned to the area.

"Mwoya" crypto spoke in Korean surprising Wattson.

"Uh Crypto?" She respond.

He look back towards her and saw two gloved hands cover her mouth and take her away despairing into the field.

"?! Natalie?!" Crypto spoke terrified.

He ran forward moving around the cornfield. He kept hearing rustling sounds all over, disorienting him, he sniff the air trying to find her scent. But couldn't. He ran looking around within the field. Blythe flew up into the air scanning the area.

"Wattson!" He spoke.

As wattson kept getting dragged away. The arms dropped her in an open field which seemed to be a different entrance. It had all sorts of pumpkins some small heavy fog and a very mysterious house.

"Your lucky I found you before that vampire hurt you." A mysterious voice spoke.

As Wattson turn around she was meet by the scarecrow which she saw earlier.

The being had a light up candle on its mouth which shine brightly within the pumpkin making her look fascinated.

"Wait nono. The vampire is my friend. His names Tae. His a sweet guy once you get to know him." Wattson spoke.

"Friends with a demon? No that's what they want you to think. Here in my pumpkin patch you are safe now." The mysterious being spoke.

As wattson examines the head she notice it wasn't moving its mouth to speak. Which made her watch the protector excited. She's never seen a talking scarecrow.

"Natalie! "a voice spoke coming from the corn field.

Wattson look back, worried a bit.

"Wraith sent me here to kindly ask for a specific pumpkin so that I can help my friend" Wattson spoke.

"Wraith? The witch that deals with black magic." The protector ask in a curious tone.

They where thinking for a while scratching there pumpkin head. As something came out of the fence Crypto tackled the protector to the ground hissing and snarling exposing his fangs.

"You stay away from her." Crypto hissed before getting pinched on the ear dragged away.

"Crypto the protector is friendly!" Wattson spoke.

Crypto look quiet fixing his clothes looking away.

As the protector made there way to the open field they point at a couple of pumpkins from the patch. Some where different than what wattson has ever seen. They all had varieties which where pretty cool.

"May we take one?" Wattson kindly ask.

"Take what you need." The protector spoke.

Crypto look at Wattson. She took a couple of steps finding the pumpkin with the description Wraith ask and picked it up. The pumpkin released a faint glow and the protector made a nod as a raven flew to there shoulder. Wattson walk off to the fence excited.

"Thank you!" She respond going off.

"You better not hurt this kind soul demon." The protector warned.

Crypto took a sigh having a small pain on his head. The migraine was getting worse every time he would walk. He took a couple of steps going to Wattson.

"Are you okay?" Wattson wonder as she held the pumpkin placing it on her bag.

As she look at Crypto from head to toe she noticed something creepy. His eyes where fully black. He had a smile from ear to ear showing his fangs, which made her step back a bit but stand her ground.

Crypto got close and she slap him on the face. He swore in Korean holding his left cheek. Wattson held her hand waving it in pain.

"Ow." Both spoke.

Holding her gloved hand wattson looked at Crypto.

"I didn't do anything!" Crypto spoke.

She look at him as his eyes where back to blue.

"Hey how about you take a blood pill." Wattson spoke holding out a couple of them.

Crypto look at it then at her.

"Pass I'm not going to lose it." He spoke.

"Your so stubborn." Wattson respond.

"Lets go take Wraith her stuff." Crypto lead the way.

"Come on and take your blood pills." Wattson grab Cryptos hand.

"No nat im good." He avoid eye contact.

"Tae!" She spoke serious.

He look at her and took one he moved away from her. He didn't like when he would feed and she would be around. He feared if he ever did that he would hurt her. The blood pills are basically compressed blood which Wattson made using her research. She would always find him fresh blood to drink sometimes even find blood packs from blood banks. How did she do it, he didn't know.

Wraith look at Mirage which she used magic to fix his cowboy clothes. At this point she didn't even want to ask. Mirage munch on a pork chop munching then the bone. Occasionally a tail would appear as it wagged from side to side happy. Wraith made a small smile looking at mirage.

"So whatcha doing?" Mirage spoke.

"Thinking about that vampire,  how did we meet him?" She wonder.

"Meh. Wattson brought him injured. Besides his a weird paranoid vampire with a small bat on him. Why?" Mirage look.

"I guess its been a long time since we meet him still why is he getting an amnesia now is he refusing to feed or did they both get into trouble?" Wraith wonder.

Wraith prepared a bowl for the items..

"You think.... Nat is going to be safe?" Mirage wonder.

"Yeah she is, she's been managing the vampire for a while." Wraith respond.

Mirage sniff the air receiving familiar scents and he walk to the door opening it.

"We made it!" Wattson spoke.

"Wow first try already doing well good job." Mirage smile.

Crypto look at Natalie and scratch his head cleaning his mouth. Wattson spoke to Wraith.

"Whoa. Buddy you don't look too good?" Mirage spoke.

As he gently touch crypto shoulder he hiss a bit backing away. The small little bat located on cryptos shoulder look a bit worried.

"I'm fine." Crypto spoke closing his mouth.

"Aw someone a bit sleepy." Mirage teased.

"I'm not." Crypto spoke.

"I'm just pulling your leg." Mirage smile.

"Okay! We are off!"  Natalie walk seeing crypto.

He closed his eyes taking a sigh.

[acenancy]

I don't know if you take prompts but if yes, I'd love a ff about the first Bellarke kiss. I hope that we get it in s4. How do you think that could happen?

Even though I’m answering this 7 months late…YES, I do take prompts. Lmao I’m so goddamn sorry. I just could not think of a way to write this for the life of me.

Also, this is actually NOT how I think a S4 Bellarke kiss will go down. However, I do think it will be…happy, if you know what I mean. I have yet to see one of Clarke’s first kisses be a happy thing. So, happy is kind of what this tried to be.

Like Petrol Soaked Paper and Fireworks (She Burns)

(ao3)

Fandom: The 100Pairing: BellarkeWords: 3874

The apocalypse isn’t as bad as Bellamy thought it would be.

Sure, the rain hasn’t turned black yet and the only cancerous lesionthey’ve come across is Jaha on his soapbox, but just knowingThe End is neigh should be enough to dampen moods, at the very least.

Which it has. Plenty of Arkadians have thrown their hands in the airand called it quits; they drink themselves into stupors, start brawlsfor the smallest reasons, spend entire days crying inconsolably intothe dirt.

It’s fair to say the news is devastating to pretty much everyone.

But truthfully? Since the moment Bellamy hit the ground, everyday hasfelt like his last one. Somehow, against all odds, it never has been.So this? The end of the world? It’s not the end of the world. This isnothing new. It’s just another fucking obstacle that needs to beovercome so his people can move on and get lives already.

Bellamy means that in the nicest way possible. Really.

Some people, however, have heeded his advice prematurely. They’vechosen to avoid jumping the hurdles to salvation and skipped straightto the victory party. Or maybe it’s a pity party. Bellamy isn’t surewhat to call it when you’ve given up on survival and decided tosimply…live. Is that what losing hope is? Accepting your fate andembracing every punch life throws your way with a bloody smile onyour face?

Bellamy understands the appeal, sure. Plenty of times he’s wanted tojust end the fight, let the universe have its way with him. “Gowith the flow,” Octavia would call it. The notion remindsBellamy of a boy, on his knees, begging a vision to kill him; of agirl, under a tree, not letting him surrender.

Bellamy never considered defeat until that night. He hasn’t eversince. The fight is ingrained in him like a bullet. It wakes him upin the morning and sets him moving, working, never contemplatingotherwise.

They say as long as there’s a will, there’s a way. Sometimes itfeels a will is all Bellamy has anymore. But he firmly believes thatyou can only have a will when you have hope to fuel its fire. ForBellamy, Hope happens to be sitting right in front of him, hangingonto his hand, the warmth of her cheek pressed firm against hisknuckles.

The apocalypse isn’t great. It’s not horrifically mortifying yet,either. What’s worse right now, for Bellamy, is seeing ClarkeGriffin sagging against him, her spirit wavering along the fine linebetween anger and despair.

“Do you still have hope?” she’d asked him

A gust of breath slips from her nose between his fingers.

“We’re still breathing,” he’dsaid.

Bellamy inhales, heavy and deep, when her lips part just theslightest against his hand.

Yes. Yes, he still has hope.

“I wish they did too,” Clarke mumbles against his skin. She tiltsher head so her chin rests against the back of his hand and she cansee him. “Do you think I was wrong?”

Bellamy knows what she’s asking. Was she wrong in telling Jasper tosettle down? To stop throwing ragers in the woods, sneaking awayrations of alcohol for the oddly happy nihilistic portion of Arkadia?No, Bellamy doesn’t think she was wrong. Jasper is wasting valuableresources and he’s putting himself and others in danger. He’sbeing stupid. Bellamy isn’t opposed to seeing Jasper happy again,but he needs the kid to find another way.

On the other hand, Clarke and Bellamy have bigger fish to fry than arowdy delinquent these days.

“I think we need to pick and choose our battles,” Bellamy tellsher, “and what Jasper does in the woods is the least of our worriesright now.”

Frustration flashes in Clarke’s eyes for the briefest of momentsbefore she casts her gaze to her feet. “I know,” she says. “Iknow. I just- I want-” Unable to get the words out, Clarke dropsher hands into her lap, shaking her head at the floor.

Bellamy sits on his haunches in front of her. He slips his hand alongher cheek, fingers light at the nape of her neck. His thumb sweeps agentle path across her cheekbone. “You want to look out for ourfriends.”

Clarke’s eyes, boring into his, roll dramatically before runninghome to Bellamy’s again. “Yes,” she huffs. “Like you don’twant to?”

Bellamy snorts. It’s impossible for them not to care about people,especially the people they fell from space with in a fiery tin can.You can’t break bonds made like that. Bellamy will watch over thosekids until his dying breath, even when they’re wasting their own.

“I don’t want them to give up,” Clarke concedes, shouldersshrugging stiffly. “After everything we’ve been through, aftereverything we did to get here…I don’t want them to let it allgo.”

“Maybe, if we do this right, they won’t have to.”

Bitterly, Clarke laughs. “Will anything we do even matter if theydon’t want it? If they don’t want to be alive?”

Holding her gaze, Bellamy leans in closer to her. “I don’t thinkthat’s the issue, Clarke.” Eyes desperate, Clarke watches him,waiting for him to say what she needs to hear most. “I think theywant this – the ground, their people, good times. To live.They just don’t believe they’ll ever have it again. So they’retaking it now.” Bellamy watches Clarke’s shoulders fall as sheexpels the air that’s been winding her up. “And that’s thedifference between us and them,” Bellamy presses on, “webelieve.”

They’ve leaned into each others’ spaces, Bellamy realizes. Theblue of Clarke’s eyes is piercing, freezing him. The rosy blushrising along her cheeks dances in Bellamy’s peripheral vision. Heknows, if the moment were right, he could close the distance betweenthem. He could press his lips against hers and take the next step inthis dance they’ve been ambling through since the Drop Ship. Theycould change the game right now. From the way Clarke is looking backat him, Bellamy can tell she knows it too.

Not here, though. Not now. Maybe not ever.But Bellamy hopes.

“Hey,” Clarke says. Her voice is quiet but sure, enough to breakthe weighty silence between them, “you want to go to a party?”

Bellamy ducks his head to hide the stupid grin devouring his face. Itdoesn’t work. When he peeks back at Clarke from under his lashes,he’s relieved to see his smile mirrored on her face.

“Why? You giving up?” he teases.

There’s no chance in hell she ever would.

“No,” Clarke says. She stands strong and ready to her feet. “Justgiving in.”

–

Jasper throws his End of the World parties sporadically, deep in thewoods, skirting the line between Arkadia and Grounder territory. Youcan always find them if you track the iron stench of moonshine andthe belligerent hooting that should attract vicious predators butmostly scares them away. Raven says the parties are a good timethough she’s only been to one of them, for an hour, and left whenMiles tried pouring liquor on her brace to make the squeak go away.

“Other than that? Fun,” she’d said, then, “Clarke would havea blast.”

Bellamy wasn’t sure if Raven was being sarcastic or not.

Clarke always claims she doesn’t know how to have fun, but bothBellamy and Raven have been privy to the rare moments when she’slaid down her armor and let loose. Fun radiates from Clarke in waveswhen she allows it to; flipping cups, tossing coins, cracking jokes –it all comes natural to her. It’s jarring, perhaps, to those usedto seeing the seriousness she wears like a second skin, but onlybecause she lays back so well. Who would have thought?

So Bellamy doesn’t think it’s far fetched to say Clarke islooking to enjoy herself tonight. It’s been a rough few weeks,after all, and though she’s never completely run away from herproblems, she has been known to hide from them when she needs to.

And what better place to hide from the end of the world than in thevery middle of it, surrounded by earth and humans and life livedfully?

“Come to shut us down, Officers?” Jasper greets when Bellamy andClarke trudge into a clearing.

There’s a bonfire blazing in the center, people sitting on logs,drinking around it. On the far side of the clearing is the rover,parked between two trees, music blasting from its speakers as loud asit can play. People hover near it, grabbing drinks from the trunk,dancing to the beat of the sound.

“How’d you get my car?” Bellamy barks.

“Last I checked, the rover is property of Arkadia.” Jasper leansforward, peering at Bellamy mischievously. “Do you come here asArkadia, my king?”

“We come as friends,” Clarke declares. She announces it, likefriendship is official business and not a refreshing drink at the endof a long day.

“Ah, friends,” drawls Jasper. “I didn’t realize thetwo of you remembered how to be friends.” He lifts his cupat them, wagging a finger between Bellamy and Clarke. “Even to eachother. If you know what I mean.”

Bellamy growls. “Watch it.”

Jasper raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, hey, we’re allfriends here!” Slowly, he backs away, smirking deviously as hegoes. “Just don’t be narcs, ‘kay?” With that, he turns hisback on them, stumbling to Monty and Harper who are wrapped aroundeach other by the fire.

Unperturbed, Clarke jerks her head to the rover. “Come on.”

The stares they receive just for being at this party don’t gounnoticed by Bellamy and Clarke. They’re aware that by now, to mostpeople, they’re viewed differently than most. They’re held apart.Bellamy supposes it makes sense. They took charge of the delinquents,and they eviscerated Mount Weather, and then they rescued theirentire people from a soul sucking A.I., and now? Now they’vetasked themselves with saving the human race. It’s not usual, no,even for your typical “hero”. But Bellamy still feels normal.Normal enough that people shouldn’t be watching and whisperingevery time he and Clarke happen to be near them. The whole thingmakes Bellamy’s skin itch. Part of him wants to take Clarke’shand and get the hell out of dodge, hide away forever. Mostly though,he wants to walk across the grass and grab a drink with his bestfriend, no worries, just like everyone else.

Stopping at the back of the rover, Clarke leans her weight againstBellamy’s side. “Relax,” she whispers. “Ignore them.”

Bellamy scoffs. “Ignore who? Everyone?”

She looks around, then back at him, lifting one lazy shoulder.“Yeah.” Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

With great effort, Bellamy trains his eyes on the barrel of moonshinebefore them, away from the crowd, and rolls the discomfort off of hisshoulders. “I’m gonna need more than one drink if you want me todo that.”

Thrusting a tin filled to the brim in Bellamy’s hands, Clarkelevels him with her eyes and says “so have more than one,” andclinks her cup against his.

And have more than one they do.

Despite having built up a tolerance to moonshine over the last year,it still only takes one drink for Bellamy and Clarke to becomepleasantly wasted. The eyes that were following them melt into spotsat the corners of Bellamy’s vision, and it’s with ease that heand Clarke step away from their secluded corner at the edge of theparty and move to sit with the delinquents. Maybe they’re all toodrunk to remember they haven’t gotten along in months, or maybeit’s simply this easy to fall back in love with old friends, butBellamy and Clarke have…fun.

Harper is goofy – something Clarke never had the chance to learn –and constantly has everyone doubled over with tears in their eyes.Jasper and Monty recount their adventures on the Ark, and Bellamy canalmost imagine he was with them if he tries to. Miller has just theright type of morbid humor to bounce off of Clarke’s and Bellamy’s,and even Bryan jumps into the conversation, enthralling everyone withthe story of how Miller was arrested while sitting on the toilet.

It’s only one more round of drinks before Jasper pulls Clarke toher feet, spinning her in a clumsy circle. Bellamy can only assumethey’re supposed to be dancing.

Half joking, he asks Monty how much Jasper has had to drink.

Proudly, Monty smiles, pointing to where Jasper is dipping a laughingClarke. “Eight cups,” proclaims Monty, grin stretching wider, “ofstraight water.” He must be amused by the look of surprise onBellamy’s face, because Monty laughs when he says “he’s notthrowing life away anymore, Bellamy. He’s grabbing it by thelapels.”

Jasper has one hand in Clarke’s and the other on her waist as hedrags them around the clearing, singing comically at the top of hislungs. Still shaking with laughter, Clarke can barely hold herself upas she falls against him, occasionally trying to sing along. Bellamywatches her, entranced. The glow of the fire highlights her in theshadows of the night, the embers of the flames flickering around herlike stars. Moon rays ignite the dark, break through the trees, andilluminate her, following her every move.  She’s always beenbeautiful, but like this, letting go, smiling on Earth with theirfamily, Bellamy has never seen her more radiant. She owns the dirtaround them and the grass beneath her feet; she sprouts straight fromthe ground, same as the trees behind her; she blows with the wind andshines like Polaris and Earth spins around her as though she’s thesun. Clarke sets the world in motion. She sets everything in motion.She moves him.

Miller coughs, dragging Bellamy’s attention away from her. “Youshould too, by the way,” he suggests. Bellamy squints at him,confused. Miller elaborates. “Grab the world by the lapels.” Hiseyes dart to Clarke, then back to Bellamy, and he raises his eyebrowsto make his point clearer.

Loving Clarke has never been about making a move, though. It’s beenabout standing at her side because she stands at his, about trustingher with everything, least of all his life; it’s about reachinginto the darkness and holding out a hand, guiding each other backinto the light. It’s a love peppered with soft touches and tightembraces, with understanding looks and dry teasing. It makes them thegreatest allies and the best of friends, and sometimes, when it hasto, the worst of enemies. Always though, no matter what, lovingClarke and being loved back, is everything they need, exactly whenthey need it. Having Clarke’s body against his isn’t necessary toprove that. All he needs is her heart and his, beating together, forthe world and for each other. That’s it.

“Don’t need to,” he tells Miller. Over Jasper’s shoulder,Clarke’s eyes catch Bellamy’s. The smile she wears is gentle andwarm and only for him. “The world and I grabbed each other by thelapels a long time ago.”

–

It’s cold on their trek back to Arkadia. Bellamy’s jacket isdraped over Clarke’s shoulders despite her promise that she’llmurder him if he freezes to death. He insists his buzz is enough tokeep him warm. It doesn’t hurt that Clarke is tucked into his side,sharing her heat, too. Bellamy pulls her closer, arms wrapped aroundher shoulders. He hides his smile into his collar when she reachesfor the hand dangling over her chest.

“I’m sorry I dragged you to the party,” Clarke apologizes.

“Sorry?” Puzzled, Bellamy looks down at her. “You didn’t dragme, Clarke. I said I would go.”

“Only because I wanted to.”

Scoffing, Bellamy leads them through the gates of Arkadia. “I don’ttake orders from you,” he reminds her.

She pinches his side where her hand rests on his waist.

“I don’t regret going,” Bellamy assures her. “I had fun. Morefun than I’ve had in a while.”

He senses Clarke’s apprehension as she shifts her body against him.“But you wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t want to go.”

“Would you have gone if I decided to hang back?” Bellamyasks.

Clarke hesitates, and that’s all Bellamy needs to know her answer.“No,” she admits.

“I didn’t mind going, Clarke,” Bellamy reiterates. “Like Ialready said, I’m glad we did. And I wouldn’t have if I didn’tthink we needed a break.”

“Did we need a break, though?” asks Clarke. She slips outfrom under Bellamy’s arm, turning to face him. She lets his handfall between them.

They’re standing outside the dilapidated station that leads totheir quarters now. The only thing disturbing the darkness shroudingthem is the burning torch hanging on the wall, flames licking thenight sky over their heads. A harsh gust of wind blows, sending itslight dancing down toward them. The glow it casts cloaks Clarke,haloing her head like a blazing golden crown. It matches the fire inher eyes and the sight sets one starting in Bellamy’s chest.

“Did we really need to go to one of Jasper’s parties?”she asks again. “We have so much mapping that needs to be donebefore we meet with the Glowing Forest Clan. Rationing, too. After wewasted all of last week dealing with Ice Nation, we can’t affordto shirk our responsibilities anymore. We can’t do this again,Bellamy.”

He fails to remember a time they ever did. “I think we should,”he says.

“Should?”

“Should shirk our responsibilities more.”

Bellamy takes a step closer to her, farther into the light of thetorch, sharing the warmth it bestows upon  Clarke.

With her eyes, she levels him, and warns him with his name.“Bellamy.”

“Clarke,” he mimes her. “What exactly is the point in doingwhat we’re doing?”

Her eyes practically bulge out of her head. Clarke blinks at him,baffled, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “To saveour people, Bellamy.”

“Why?” he prompts her.

Her voice is loud when she answers him, angry. “So they can live.”

“Yeah.” Bellamy points to the woods, in the direction whereJasper’s party is still raging on. “That is what livingis. That is what you fightfor every single day.”

Clarke stares off into the distance where Bellamy directed herattention. She soaks in the trees and the land and the sky like shehasn’t seen them in a lifetime; like she knew them once, but forgotthem, and just remembered how much they fill up her heart.

“We did need tonight, Clarke.” Bellamy’s voice is soft, almostlost on the wind. “We needed to remember why we do what we do.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” Clarke confesses. Hermouth flounders around words she can’t quite squeeze out yet. Hereyes are glassy with unshed tears. “I don’t even know who I amanymore.”

This side of Clarke is not new, but it isn’t one people see often.Clarke, so confident and sure, losing faith in herself and cracking.But, like she is for him, Bellamy is there, always, to catch herpieces as they fall and put them back together.

“You’re Clarke,” he says simply, “and you’re standing inthe cold with me, having an existential crisis. Sometimes you try tosave the world.”

Clarke battles the smirk struggling to inch across her face. Raisinghis brows at her, Bellamy waits for her to give in and let it. Whenfinally she can’t hold her smile back, Clarke scoffs at herself forlosing. Bellamy can’t bring himself to feel bad for her. His wordsgot through, after all.

“That was one of your more sub par motivational speeches,” Clarketells him.

Offended, Bellamy frowns down at her. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Whatever.” She crosses her arms over her chest, looking up athim with small wonder. “I don’t know what I ever did to makeBellamy Blake nice to me.”

For a moment, he considers answering sarcastically. That’s when witabandons him. Nothing about Bellamy and Clarke has ever been a joketo him, after all. And she’s done everything. She’s doneeverything for him, to him, with him. She had the nerve to challengehim, and she surprised him, and she showed him the world in anentirely different way; she rescues him from his demons, every secondof every day, and lets him return the favor; she thinks about him,cares about him, and she made him do the same for himself. Clarke haschanged Bellamy, completely. She ignited a spark in his soul, onethat was always there but dimming, and taught him how to make it rageuntil it set his world aflame in a fiery inferno, fueled by purposeand possibility.

Bellamy sags before her, melting. “You gave me hope.”

It’s not the answer she expected, he can tell. Her arms fall to hersides, mouth falling open; her eyes swell with emotion once more.“Bellamy…”

Like he hasn’t just confessed she set his world spinning, heshrugs.

“Bellamy,” Clarke says again.

She inches closer, cautiously, minutely. Her eyes never leave hisonce. Not even when their chests are brushing, and they’recentimeters apart, and he can feel her breath fanning across hisskin.

“Bellamy.” His name is barely a hush falling from her lips, butit shoots heat down his spine, straight to his toes.

Clarke’s rests her hands on his chest, sliding them feather-lightup to his neck. The air escapes Bellamy’s lungs in quick, shallowspurts.

“I only have hope to give,” Clarke says, breathing her wordsstraight into him, “because you gave it to me too.”

Bellamy doesn’t believe he’s heard anything quite as unreal andearth shattering in his entire life. Somehow, he’s acquired theunique ability to inspire a belief in something more in people. Heknows this. He’s used it as a weapon. He’s sent innocent peopleto their deaths with it. Though, Clarke would remind him, he’ssaved just as many with it, too. But he’s always thought Clarke,who lives on a totally different plane than a typical human being,was impervious to him. It’s the most beautiful and terrifying thingin the universe to learn she’s not.

“Clarke.” Bellamy chokes out her name like it’s strangling him.He can’t resist from framing her face in his hands, savoring thewarmth of the blush on her cheeks. She lets herself fall into him.

Breath mingling, noses bumping, they savor the brush of skin on skin,tangling themselves together. Bellamy counts the erratic beats of herheart besides his, waiting until they’re lazy, content. He openshis drooping lids to catch her eye.

It’s a question – are you ready? Should we really take this leap?

The corners of Clarke’s mouth tick up into an answer.

Then, under the light of the moon, beneath the flames of the torch,with love kindling deep within their hearts, they do.