#ignore me and my love for doctor au Abby
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oh to be Abby’s sweet little trophy wife that flaunts around in lingerie while she working from home🙇♀️😫 like imagine walking by her office and abby goes “doing this to be a brat or what?” Then reader is like “I wear things like this all the time” and shrugs innocently AHHHHHH
YES ANON!!! Abby is a breadwinner. Provider. Mother. 😤
I feel like she loves being able to treat her wife to little presents and wants to do nothing but look after her. Any of the lingerie that you own, has either been bought by or bought for Abby. But let’s be real, it's for both of you cause when she see your ass hanging out from underneath that little blue babydoll she got for you last month - it’s over.
Even though Abby gets a Friday to work from home Abby would spend hours upon hours trapped in her office, on the phone to patients or other staff from her practice trying to approve surgeries or trying to get prescriptions processed if she could manage. Everyday at 1, you’d bring her lunch to her office and kiss her on her wrinkled little forehead, stress and pressure causing deep lines on her beautiful face. On this particular Friday, it would be business as usual. Blonde hair fuzzy from running her hands through it, laptop open and phone held against her ear. Keeping an ear to the closed door and hearing her set down the phone with an exhausted sigh, you put your plan into action. Pushing the door open plate in one hand, ice tea in the other, you kiss her on the crown of her head as she stays sat in the swivel chair. The pastel pink lace and chiffon adorning your body, sways a little as you move around her and set up the plate of beef and noodles in front of her. As you do so her blue eyes take in the view of you slightly bent over, smile on your face. Light makeup and cherried lips, you’re like a walking wet dream. As you move back out around the desk and towards the door, Abby grabs you by the hand and pulls you down into her lap, “nuh-uh, baby. Walking around like a fucking meal, and you expect me to eat that instead of you?”
Also I feel like Abby is really into kitchen sex and idk why. The cold marble countertops that give you goosebumps when she lifts you on to them, her hands sneaking round to cup your cunt as you’re standing at the stove cooking dinner. All the shenanigans that come with fucking in a kitchen.
Abby has a thing for those kinds of lingerie sets that aren’t just straps and frills, she likes the ones that sort of cover you up and make you look all pretty and dainty, her very own princess. Babydolls and teddy sets are her go-to’s. She’s especially fond of pastels and how soft they make you look. And as much as she teases you for wearing them for her, it's mildly disappointing for her when she comes back home and sees you in what she has dubbed ‘people clothes’. Like you’re hers, why do you have to go and do things, and why do you need to be seen by other people, why do you have to do that job? Because you live in a capitalist hellscape and junior surgeons aren’t paid enough.
She still has her old letterman jacket from senior year of high school, it’s big and oversized with ‘Anderson’ stitched across the back, and boy does she love seeing you in frilly blue lace and cotton. All that’s really covering you from her wandering eyes is something with her name on it. You’re hers. Her pretty little wife.
#Anna’s drabbles#tlou#abby anderson#tlou x reader#abby anderson x reader#Abby is a junior doctor and wastes her wages on getting her wife lingerie#ignore me and my love for doctor au Abby#modern au Abby Anderson
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The Last Enemy That Shall Be Destroyed (Clexa, The 100 AU)
I have no justification for this.
Major thanks @kokkoro who let me scream on Discord about this idea and @moczothe1st who lent his wonderful Batverse expertise because what I know of the lore is so small it could fit into a thimble.
AO3 link
It was moments like these where Clarke realized it’d be so much easier to let go.
There was darkness dancing around the corners of her vision and she tasted blood on her tongue, and everything hurt. She’d fallen, she thought--fallen too far, broken something. Another fight, another misjudged jump, another gadget malfunction. She couldn’t remember; her brain had gone fuzzy alarmingly fast. All she knew was she was on the ground when she wasn’t before, and everything hurt.
God. It’d be so easy.
She could just close her eyes, she thought. It wouldn’t be hard; the darkness was already there on the edge, waiting for her like an old friend. She could just close her eyes, and the pain would stop. Raven was shouting somewhere in her ear and well, okay, that was rude, but she was so tired and everything hurt so it was easy to ignore it.
It’d be so easy. All she had to do was close her eyes.
(This was what Clarke remembered, always:
She remembered Jake lunging for the gun the moment it was aimed at his wife and child.
She remembered Abby shoving her behind her body even as her husband fell and died in front of her.)
She groaned, bringing her hand to her earpiece. “Jesus, Raven, I’m right here.”
It came out wrong--slurred and ragged and she coughed up something wet and warm with it--but Raven laughed and it almost sounded like crying. “Holy fuck, Clarke--”
“Please tell me we got something from that. I don’t think I can do it a second time.” She couldn’t remember what it was right now and that was a little alarming, but she absolutely knew whatever it was she couldn’t do it again.
“I’ll look at the data in a second, okay, I’ll look at it all when you get back, I promise. Just stay awake, Wells is on his way right now.”
“Mkay.” Clarke’s hand fell away and she sighed, gingerly rolling over onto her back and gripping her ribs as she turned her gaze to the stars overhead.
She didn’t close her eyes.
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Clarke was counting the stars in the sky when Wells arrived. His car was silent--it always was--so she tilted her head slightly to watch him pull up and park as close to her as he dared. She managed a weak smile, gave a small salute, and tried to ignore how wet his responding chuckle was.
He knelt down next to her, but he didn’t touch yet. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.” It should have been funny, she wanted it to be funny, but the sigh those words came out on hurt too much for her to try. “I think… brain’s still a little fuzzy, but my chest took the worst of it. Landed on my side. Might have banged my head, since I can’t think clearly.”
Wells took her words for what they are; he finally reached out, gingerly urging her to sit up and slinging her arm over his shoulders. “I’ll take a look when we get you home,” he promised. “Just gotta get through the next few minutes, okay? One, two—“
Clarke lurched up before three, but Wells braced himself and went up with her, tightening his grip on her wrist and resting a tentative, steadying hand on her hip, mindful of her side. Her legs held for a single, hopeful second before ultimately betraying her, and she leaned on her best friend like he was the only thing keeping her steady, felt the way he leaned back into her to support her.
Wells Jaha, her rock.
If only he knew.
“Sorry,” she managed, once she could catch her breath.
Wells shook his head. “I’ve got you. Just relax.”
“My bike—“
“I’ll pick it up later. Let’s go home, Clarke.”
Clarke nodded tiredly, nuzzling into the space where Wells’ neck met his shoulder, and she finally closed her eyes.
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Clarke’s sleep was dark and dreamless, and when she finally managed to open her eyes again she was back home, true to Wells’ word.
Or, well--she was under home, if she wanted to be technical about it. As she blinked blearily, she could tell that from the sound alone; the faint roar of the distant waterfall and the steady, soothing drip of water on rock, the low hum of the underground stream. For all intents and purposes the cave was basically a part of home at this point, so she more or less considered it the same thing.
As her gaze finally cleared and sharpened, she became aware of the fact someone was beside her. She didn’t have to even tilt her head to figure out who it was; the pure aura of anger she could feel prickling next to her gave away who it was immediately. “If you want to say I look like shit, Wells already beat you to it,” she said, figuring the words couldn’t make anything worse .
“It’s almost like you look like shit because you didn’t wait for me,” Octavia snapped, and Clarke finally accepted the inevitable and tilted her head slightly to look at the other woman seated next to her. The brunette had taken off her mask and had tucked away her crossbow, but it didn’t do anything to help the fury blazing in her eyes.
Clarke grimaced and shifted on the cot Wells had settled her on, holding up both hands carefully. “You were dealing with a raid,” she began. “Even if I had called for you, by the time you would have made it to me--”
“Bullshit, I know the city like the back of my hand and you know it. I could have been there in a few minutes, tops. You just couldn’t be assed to wait.”
“This was a huge tip, okay? I had to move on it while it was still fresh. And it worked out, didn’t it? I still got the information.” Clarke paused, pressed her lips together. “Plus, considering the welcome I got in that warehouse, I don’t know how much having you with me would have helped.”
“I’m going to kill her,” Octavia told Wells as he came back from the massive computer Raven was hunched over, furiously working and ignoring her three old friends. “I’m sorry you went through so much trouble to bring her back here.”
Wells paused, looking between them for a moment. “Can I at least check her over before you kill her?”
Clarke groaned. “Wells.”
Octavia leaned back in her chair, wordlessly giving the man permission. Wells stepped up to Clarke’s side, and the blonde instinctively straightened up as he flicked on a flashlight and skimmed it over her eyes, lingering for a moment before he tucked it away. “She isn’t wrong,” he finally said. “You should have waited.”
“Wells--”
“Now you have a minor concussion and a few broken ribs for your trouble. You’re not dead, so there’s that, and maybe you’re right and her presence wouldn’t have helped, but you know what? It couldn’t have hurt.”
There was nothing Clarke could think to say in response to any of that; nothing she could say to that, so instead she huffed quietly and slumped back into her pillow. Beside her, Octavia let out a low whistle. “Damn, Jaha,” she said. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“You’re acting like I’ve never gotten hurt before,” Clarke finally sighed.
“You’ve gotten hurt before, you’ve never been reckless before,” Wells snapped back. “The information was good, but you wouldn’t have lost anything by waiting five or ten minutes for Octavia to back you up.”
Clarke chewed her bottom lip, before she finally shifted carefully and nodded. “You’re right,” she conceded. “I got… excited, and I rushed into this without thinking. I’m sorry.”
Octavia let out another whistle. “Damn, Jaha. Can you tell me what your secret is? Every time I try to get her to admit she’s wrong it’s like pulling teeth.”
“Fuck off, Octavia.”
Octavia grinned, getting to her feet. “You love me. You’ll be taking it easy for at least a day or two with those injuries?”
Clarke’s immediate response was to open her mouth and say no, she wasn’t about to do any such damn thing because the city’s underbelly was hardly going to stop running just because she’d gone and gotten herself hurt, but a look from Wells made the words turn to ash on her tongue. “A couple hours,” she said. “Maybe a day. I can still do some light patrolling, right?”
Wells sighed. “Let’s see how that concussion clears up first.”
The blonde smirked, unable to resist. “And you always said you never wanted to be a doctor.”
He chuckled. “We do what we have to.”
“Damn right we do.” Clarke shifted her head slightly, peering at where Raven still was by the computer--Octavia had lovingly dubbed it the Bat-Computer, but the other woman absolutely refused to let the name stick. “We get anything worthwhile from that information, Rae?”
“Si, jefa. As usual, I’m a genius. You’re welcome.” Raven stood up from the chair and pulled the drive out, making her way over to her friends. “Took a little bit of cleaning up to get a decent look at it, but here you go. All the proof you need that Carl Emerson has been selling those modified weapons circulating through the black market recently.”
It was really just confirmation of what they all already knew, and in the grand scheme of things Emerson was ultimately a bit player, but it was a small thread weaved into a much grander whole, and Clarke would take what she could tonight. Hurting like this, she needed a win. “You’re the best.”
“I always am, babe, keep up.” Raven took a moment to look Clarke over, subtly shifting her weight off of her bad leg; it always started to ache if she spent too long working, but she could ignore it for a little longer. “We can probably run this to someone and still get an official arrest. You up for that, or…”
Clarke wanted to say she was, because she knew exactly who was waiting for this information and she wasn’t sure Octavia would play nice with her; the brunette was blunt at the best of times with people who weren’t involved in her inner circle, and Commissioner Kane had developed a thick skin for it over her years of activity in the city, but an outsider would definitely be present at the drop off tonight. Besides that, the information had been given to Clarke, not to Octavia, and her pride demanded she be the one to finish what she’d started.
Clarke wanted to say she was up for it, but she felt the burn as she breathed and could only imagine the kind of headache she’d get from trying to move that much so soon after hitting her head, and beyond all of that she was pretty sure that if she did say it Wells and Octavia would team up and finally kill her.
What Clarke said instead, with a deep sigh that almost made her ribs ache, was “Octavia, don’t make me regret this.”
“Hey now.” Octavia plucked the drive from Raven’s hand. “I can play nice when I have to. It’s just Kane, right? I’ve worked with him a million times now. I’m actually starting to like him.”
“It won’t just be Kane tonight. So please actually be nice? At least try to be?”
Green eyes slowly narrowed, looking the blonde over. “Who else will be there?”
“Well, the person who passed that information to me, for one. She might help us out more in the future, so again, be nice. Please.”
“You’re being oddly tight lipped about this.” Octavia glanced between Raven and Wells. “Either of you know anything about this?”
Raven held up both hands, backing off. “No, nope, I’m not getting involved. I already told Clarke this was potentially a bad idea, I’m not having that argument again. I’m going home now that my work is done, because unlike you losers I actually have a stable romantic partner who enjoys my company.”
Wells sighed. “No one you’d know,” he told Octavia. “I can vouch that she’s clear, though. Even if Clarke got reckless tonight to have some results for her.”
“Traitor,” Clarke groaned.
“That tells me a whole lot of nothing, but fine. I’ll go and I’ll play nice, whatever that even means because neither of you are telling me anything about this supposed new contact.” Octavia paused. “And I’m going as I am. I’m not playing dress up again to be you.”
Clarke chuckled, closing her eyes. “Oh, man. We haven’t done that in awhile.”
“We’re never doing it again if I have any control over it.”
“You two are idiots,” Raven cut in, but her voice was affectionate as Clarke opened her eyes again--she wasn’t going to risk keeping them closed for too long at the moment. “If that’s all settled, I’m going to head out. I think I’ve done all I can for tonight.”
The blonde tilted her head, smiling tiredly at the Latina. “Good work tonight, Raven. You really came through.”
“Yeah, yeah, you say that every time.” The words were softened by the kiss the other woman pressed to her forehead. “Try and get some sleep, jefa. I’ll see you later?”
“Always.”
“Good. See you later too, Wells. Don’t kill anyone, Octavia.”
Wells gave Raven a small wave at the same time as Octavia flipped her off. Raven responded to both of these gestures with a blown kiss, and then she was gone. Octavia studied where she’d been for a moment, then dropped her hand to Clarke’s shoulder and squeezed. “I agree with what she said,” she murmured. “Try and get some sleep, Clarke. You look like you really need it.”
“That hurts. That’s hurtful.”
“It’s supposed to hurt, I’m trying to shame you into sleeping.”
“You’re such an ass.” But Clarke’s hand came up and found Octavia’s, squeezed reassuringly.
“You’ve known that about me for years.” Octavia lingered a moment, then pulled away. “I’ll head out then for this meeting with Kane and your mystery informant. Usual place, right?”
“Mm, yeah. Top of the precinct near the signal. They’ll be expecting me, so you won’t have to wait for them.”
The brunette grinned. “The Bat Signal?”
Clarke groaned. “Go. I’ll--try to get some sleep.”
Octavia left--finally--with a promise to send Clarke a message in the morning letting her know how the meeting had gone. The blonde took a quiet breath, tilting her head slightly to look at the man who was left sitting beside her. “Hey,” she said, finally giving in and letting exhaustion seep into her tone. Letting pain seep into her tone because God, she hurt.
“Hey,” Wells answered, his eyes soft.
“Do I still look like shit?”
That got a laugh out of him, even if it sounded as exhausted as she felt. “A little, yeah. It’s not as bad as when I found you, but…”
“That’s fair.” Clarke sighed. “Help me up? I think the world’s going to spin if I try to do it myself.”
Wells was already getting to his feet before she even finished speaking; when she held out her hand, he took it without any hesitation. They’d done this now a thousand times, and there was no doubt in either of them they’d be doing it a thousand times more as he pulled her up, easily slinging her arm over his shoulders and bracing his hand against her back to help steady her as she staggered on her feet for the second time that night.
“Thanks,” the blonde managed, when the pain from moving faded enough for her to be able to manage words. “Wells?”
“Yeah, Clarke?”
“You can pick up my bike tomorrow. Can you just… stay with me tonight? Please?”
Clarke knew she didn’t need to ask, not really. Wells had been by her side when her parents had been buried on a cloudy, rainy day, and he hadn’t complained when she’d held his hand so tightly she was sure it had to hurt. He’d had his chance to leave when she’d been seventeen and struggling to breathe, and yet he’d chosen to stay. She didn’t need to ask him every time.
Yet, a part of her still needed the confirmation. The reminder that after everything, he was still beside her and ready to keep going with it.
“Of course.” His voice was steady, like always. “Come on, lean on me. We’ll deal with everything in the morning.”
It may not have been the ending to her night Clarke had wanted, but it wasn’t the ending it could have been. She was willing to take it.
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“She’s late.”
From most people, that would have been an accusation; when Anya said it, it was simply a statement of fact. Lexa watched her breath mist in the late night--early morning? She didn’t know what time it was, she hadn’t brought her phone with her--air, and didn’t reply. The words weren’t meant for her.
Marcus Kane’s eyes were still trained on the signal he’d lit, patient. “She’ll come,” he said.
“And if she doesn’t?”
“She will. If she doesn’t, Huntress will instead.” Marcus shrugged, finally shifting his eyes to look at the women. “One of them will come.”
Lexa’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t give that information to Huntress,” she said. “I gave it to Batwoman, and I expect Batwoman to be the one coming to us with the results.”
“You’ll have to learn to live with disappointment, then.”
Anya’s entire body stiffened at the same time Lexa’s heart jumped at the unfamiliar voice. She wasn’t even sure where the new person had come from; she seemed to have simply materialized from the shadows, and the only thing that gave her away was the gleam of her eyes and the splashes of purple and white against the black of her suit.
Marcus smiled slightly; in comparison to his companions, he actually seemed to relax at the sight of their visitor. “Huntress.”
Huntress--not Batwoman--glanced at him, dipping her head slightly in greeting. “Commissioner.” Her eyes slid past him, focusing on the man standing quietly near the door so they wouldn’t be disturbed. It might have been a trick of the dark, but Lexa swore her gaze actually softened when she looked at him. “Officer.”
Keeping watch by the door, Lincoln lifted his hand in response to her acknowledgement, and now Lexa knew the night was playing tricks on her because she could have sworn the large, usually quiet and reserved man actually smiled slightly. She and Anya shared a glance, communicating without a single word.
“Anyway.” Huntress reached into her belt, flipping open a pouch. “I’ve got the flash drive right here. Batwoman got the information and it’s all been cleaned up for your use. I think you’re going to like what it says.”
Lexa looked the other woman over. Of the two vigilantes that called Arkadia home, she’d ultimately chosen to reach out to Batwoman for a reason; by all accounts Huntress was steady enough and trusted by the people of the city, but she had a ruthless streak that her companion didn’t share. Lexa had wanted to get her information, preferably without any blood on her hands if she could manage it, and she’d known Batwoman was the best chance she had of accomplishing that.
Instead of Batwoman, though, it was Huntress who had returned with the information.
Before Lexa could let her train of thought reach its logical conclusion, her eyes met the other brunette’s. Huntress looked at her for a moment, then at Anya, then back at Lexa again before she snorted. “Ah,” she said. “I see. You’re the informant she was being so tight lipped about, I assume?”
Lexa’s eyebrows went up, but she stepped forward and accepted the flash drive when Huntress held it out to her. “I didn’t know she mentioned me.”
“She didn’t mention you at all besides saying you’d be here, that was half the problem.” She rolled her eyes when Anya’s gaze hardened, her mouth beginning to open; the vigilante held up a hand before she could speak. “Relax,” she said. “Like I said, I don’t know anything about either of you besides the fact that you’re new, and frankly I don’t care to know who you are. Bats is the one who plays nice with you types.”
Anya didn’t relax an inch. “You seemed perfectly fine with the Commissioner and Forest.”
Huntress shrugged. “I’m used to them, so I tolerate them now. It’s not personal. If that’s all, can I go? I was just supposed to drop this thing off, not have tea and a friendly chat.”
What a charming woman.
Anya rolled her eyes at the same time Kane gave an amused, almost tired shake of his head, and Lexa could have sworn Lincoln was actually trying to muffle a laugh back by the door into the building as Huntress turned away to head back out. After that exchange it was terribly tempting to keep quiet and let the other woman go on her way, but…
“Is Batwoman okay?”
That made Huntress pause, and she turned back around to give Lexa a quiet look. The other brunette met her gaze evenly, even as she could feel her temper beginning to fray along the edges. She’d given the information to Batwoman assuming that it would be an easy enough task that would end with nobody dead, and now there was a very real possibility that she had been wrong. Lexa hadn’t been in Arkadia for long, and her partnership with the other vigilante was recent, but the thought still sat poorly with her.
Eventually Huntress decided she must have liked what she saw as Lexa continued to hold her gaze, because she finally sighed. “She’s fine,” she said. “If you’re out and about tomorrow night I’m sure you’ll see her again.”
That was all Lexa was going to get out of her, it seemed, because right after she said those words she just--stepped off the building like it was nothing. Lexa’s heart briefly flew into her throat before she heard the whistle of a grappling hook, and then Huntress was gone almost as silently as she’d come.
There was a beat of silence.
“She seems nice,” Anya said at last as Kane made his way over to her and Lexa, taking the flash drive from her when she offered it.
“She’s kept us safe for years,” Kane replied, his tone even but firm; Anya got the hint and kept her mouth shut, though Lexa could see the way she briefly clenched her jaw. “We should go inside and take a look at this. Knowing Batwoman it’s been cleaned up, but it could still be a lot of information to work through. The sooner we get through it the better.”
Lexa wordlessly agreed. She’d come this far to get what she had in her hands now; hopefully, she only needed a little bit more to see things through to the end. She didn’t know what came for her after this was all done--she’d never let herself think that far ahead--but she knew she was getting closer to it, step by step. It would do her well to go inside as quickly as Anya had followed after Kane and Lincoln, blowing into her hands to try and bring some warmth back into her body after almost an hour of the night chill.
Instead she lingered by the door, letting her eyes gaze out over the city that was either tucked away peacefully in sleep or just starting to stir in the early morning. She waited, hoping against all hope that maybe, just maybe Huntress would be wrong and Batwoman would somehow magically materialize in front of her. The other woman’s words had been less than helpful, and Lexa had always had an awfully vivid imagination.
(Nia had been counting on that.)
Lexa waited, but Batwoman didn’t appear, and with one final look out over the city the brunette stepped inside and closed the door behind her, taking a moment to rub her eyes before she checked the lock and headed downstairs to see what information they now had
Sleep could wait. There was still work to be done.
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Tagged by @rahleeyah to do this! I don’t have quite as many fandoms to choose from, but I managed to find some stories I loved (but either weren’t as loved by others or I just released them at the wrong time lmao)
What I’m Here For - [Brenda/Sharon, The Closer] starting off with one of my first tumblr fandoms! the Brenda/Sharon shippers were a small niche of friends that I still talk with a handful of them to this day. I wasn’t a prolific writer for the fandom, but I did enjoy some of the stories I’d done for them.
Beneath the Ice - [Brenda/Sharon, The Closer] my absolute favorite Brenda/Sharon story I’ve written and it was well loved when it was published, but with the show ending (and all of us b/s shippers ignoring what MC had become), it’s popularity drastically declined. I do love this universe though, and I had plans for expanding it, but never got around to it. Still, Sharon as a Bajoran in the Maquis was so good!
The Courage of Stars - [Matthew/Alice, Jean/Lucien, Doctor Blake Mysteries/Mass Effect: Andromeda Crossover] my very first Doctor Blake story! One I hope to eventually return to, but wasn’t well-received by the fandom, and that’s alright, it’s a weird niche au crossover and hasn’t gotten to the good parts of Mass Effect Andromeda lmao. I still love it though, and the little snippet I also wrote in the universe as well.
We Hold It In The Most When We’re Wearing Thin - [Matthew/Alice, Doctor Blake Mysteries] I loved this little prompt fill even if it did sort of get overlooked. A quiet moment following an argument where true feelings come out is always a favorite to write (and read!)
In My End You Are My Beginning - [Abby/Marcus, Callie/FOC, The 100/Sense8 AU Crossover] Ah yes, my very ambitious au that I update/updated like once a year. I love this au, I love the premise and my plans for it, but I just got burnt out creatively with it and the show as a whole, and so it’s not at the top of people’s lists. So, this AU is shelved for now, and maybe one day I might finish it, but if I don’t then I don’t.
uuuuuh I tag: @daringlybelieving, @brialavellan, @presidentlauraroslin, @bloodlnthemoonlight, and @blizzaurus and anyone else who’d like to do this, just tag me so I can see!
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Part 2 of my Season 6 AU of The 100!! It’s only the adults, and finally to the point of this AU - getting Callie back!!! Part 1 is here!! And there will probably be a part 3 to this!!
Enjoy this!! I had so much fun with this AU, even if it’s super crack and weird...
Part 3 [x]
Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Callie, after Jaha had came and pardoned Abby, she took off with her best friend, and then they had avoided each other. She had gone to handle something in Tesla and then they were coming down.
He and Abby hadn’t talked about Callie often. They did during the days following Jaha’s death, they aired everything out then - the floating, the shocklashing and everything that happened before, in the Ark.
But what Marcus knew about Callie was that Abby loved her, just like Callie did. He still remember the look on her face as she pleaded for Abby’s life, now Abby had the same determination on her face, and he found it harder to say no to her.
“We cannot save your friend, Abby,” Indra said, “We’re going to start a war with this people.”
“I’m not leaving her,” Abby said, looking up to Indra, moving steps away from Marcus, making him rely of Diyoza for support again.
“Abby, we can’t do this again,” Diyoza told her, “We’ll figure out something, but not now.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Abby agreed to that and moved away from Marcus, letting him sit on the bed again, and he offered her hand, but she refused it.
“I’m going for a walk.”
“Abby...”
“Not now, Marcus. Callie would have been with me if you didn’t... and I don’t really blame you, but right now I can only think of her going away, because of you, because she couldn’t look at you.”
“Abby...”
“Marcus... please... I’ll be back, I promise. I just need time.” Abby left the room, leaving the two other women looking at Marcus, not sure of what had just happened between the couple.
“Abby shouldn’t walk around alone,” Marcus said.
“I’ll go with her,” Diyoza said, leaving the room as well, Abby hadn’t gone far.
“I was waiting for you, or Indra...” she said.
“Who is she?”
“Callie, she was my friend, best friend. We met each other in class and we were inseperable since then. We didn’t have siblings there, but she was my sister.”
“And you thought she was dead?”
“When we came down, we were in different stations of the Ark. She was in Tesla - I thought it had caught fire, we got no answer from her station,” Abby continued walking as she spoke, and they were now near the gardens.
“And that’s somehow Kane’s fault?” Abby stopped at those words and sat down on a bench, before she started talking.
“Callie and Marcus were together, sometimes, when they had no other relationships, they fell in bed together."
“Okay, and that’s a problem... You were married, right?”
“That’s not the problem. The problem is that Marcus tried to have me killed and Callie pleaded with him and it didn’t work.”
“You’re still here.”
“Someone else stopped Marcus. But they broke up then and badly, that had never happened, they normally just stopped seeing each other and it was done, but she was furious with him. So he had her moved to another station.”
“So she was in that one instead of yours?”
“Yes, and I know she wanted to go too, she didn’t want to see his face all the time. But I barely saw her after that, and then there was an explosion in the Ark and I could not see her, she was on the other side - I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“I didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone, Abby. I was sent from prison to the rock. Most people don’t get goodbyes.″
“I wanted a goodbye with her, or I don’t want one now, she’s here, alive.”
“We can’t save her now,” Diyoza spoke.
“Dr Griffin, please come with me,” Aroa asked.
“Where?” Diyoza asked.
“Only Dr Griffin. You can go back to your room, Coronel Diyoza.”
“I’m not leaving Dr Griffin alone.”
“I’m okay, Diyoza,” Abby stopped her. It was the first time the leader asked to meet with her, she wanted to go, to finally meet the woman that was ignoring her.
Abby followed Aroa to the side of the station she still hadn’t been at, and found herself at the leader’s office, being led in. The moment she walked in, she was amazed by the woman, she was human like she had been told before, with blond hair and a frozen face, unreadable.
“So you found out the truth. You found out your Ark people. Any special name?”
“You took them.”
“Your Ark was always special. Eligius tech, my family’s investments, the best of the best. So we waited for an oportunity, of course, when you came down you were no longer the best of the best - we thought about taking the kids, but they weren’t that good,” she spoke, “Don’t get me wrong, your daughter is smart, of course. Raven Reyes is what people dreamed for the Ark, everyone was suppose to be as smart as her - her mind could face and win agaisnt alien races much older and smarter than us.”
The woman talked about Raven with a glint in her eyes, like she would be something else to add to her collection, with admiration and desire.
“Monty Green was very smart too, last I’ve heard he had boarded the ship with you, but with his kid walking around, I guess he never went to sleep - a waste. Maybe his kid could be useful. And Tim Bartlett had head for math and economics and his knowledge of latin.”
“But you didn’t take these kids.”
“No, with the news that you were all coming down, we were hoping for better, even if it meant loosing Raven Reyes, but she came to us in the end.”
“Why them?”
“It survived, first of all. It was not a large group, like Mecha and Alpha, and it was not on hostile territory like Farm. And smarter minds than in Arrow.”
“Arrow made it?”
“Not the praimfaya,” she answered, “they were close to you, you know. Never looked...” Their people had been out there. “I didn’t tell Mr Kane if you’re wondering, he has enough guilt.”
“How do you know that?”
“You should have realized by now that I know everything. You divided the doctor and apprentices by all the stations, Tesla had the only other fulll formed doctor.”
“Is he alive? Is he there?” she knew immediately who was in Tesla, they had worked together for years...
“Not anymore,” she answered, “He was needed immediately. He was happy, I’m sure. His wife and kids were awake too - he had an enire life here.”
“How can you know? How can I know you’re not lying?”
“You just have to trust me,” she answered, “Now, can you tell me if there was a name that sparked something?”
“Why would I trust you?”
“There’s something I could offer.” Abby was still thinking how to proceed but she gave away the name.
“Calliope Cartwig.”
“One of the smart minds, and working in communication.”
“Yes.”
“I agreed with your daughter that the pods wouldn’t be touched.”
“That won’t be acceptable, those are our people--”
“You’ve seen five without reacting. And you should tell your friend, that we have Eligius IV people as well, left in the Rock,” she said, “Oh, don’t be amazed, of course, we know she’s Coronel Charmaine Diyoza - her crimes against the world are known to eveybody. She was a legend in her days - a hero and a nightmare at the same time.”
“You will need to talk to her about it and if she wants her people--”
“I won’t. I still doubt they can make it here. I imagine your husband has told you, that we have an agreement about violence. If you act like you did on your last planet, we will have to act on it.”
“Are you threatening us?”
“Yes, I’ve made that very clear,” she said, showing her a photo of the camp they were building, she could see her daughter standing besides Madi, a comforting hand on her back as they spoke to Echo, Bellamy, Gaia and Raven. “Russell is close by and he has made contact with your daughter - he is a peaceful man, like your husband.”
“Clarke has nothing--”
“Clarke is a leader. But I won’t hurt your daughter if you do what I need you to do.”
“And that’s?”
“Not touching the pods, including your friend’s,” she said, “Unless you would offer Raven Reyes as an exchange.”
“No. No, you don’t touch Raven.”
“Why? You didn’t seem close.”
“She’s-- Raven is good and she’s not a barging chip,” Abby argued. She needed to make things right Raven, she couldn’t let her be hurt again. Abby had already once hurt her to protect someone she loved, she wouldn’t do it again, Raven was someone she loved too.”
“So Callie will stay here. Or I would offer an exchange for you, I believe your daughter and Mr Kane wouldn’t stand for that,” she said and then added, “You’re dismissed, Doctor. I’m glad I’ve finally met you.”
Abby didn’t get to say anything else, the door was opened from the outside and Blue led her to their room, he didn’t speak, and neither did she. Abby opened the door to their room, Indra and Diyoza were training again on one side of the room, probably annoyed at Marcus, because she could see he was stressing.
“Abby,” he called out, when she came in, and she immediately went to him.
“I’m okay,” she told him.
“Diyoza said Farley asked to speak with you.”
“Yeah... she didn’t even introduce herself.”
“What did she want?”
“The entirity of Tesla is here - they got them when they landed. Arrow landed too, Marcus.”
“You sure?” he asked and Abby took his hand.
“She said so...”
“And Callie?”
“She was clear about it. It’s a no,” Abby answered, “Unless I trade Callie for Raven, which I won’t do. I’m worried about Raven, Marcus, she’s fascinated with her...”
“You should tell Clarke next time you talk.”
“Bellamy. Raven is still not talking to Clarke either. Also our calls are still being monitored.”
“I’ll speak with him then. I’ll find a way.”
“You know I’m still not leaving without Callie, right?”
“Abby...”
“I don’t want to fight,” she said. “But I’m not. But you do have a point, we need a plan, I can’t just do it,” she continued, now moving closer to him, “And I need you to look at the list of names with me. They are our people, if they still have family with us. And I need--” she said, looking up to the other two woman and calling out, “Diyoza.”
Diyoza came closer followed by Indra, they were both sweating, even if they hadn’t been training too hard - her belly was getting too large and she was getting back pain most nights.
“She knows who you are and she says she has Eligius IV people as well, left behind in the Rock.”
“It’s possible. Some of us were sick or too hurt, so they didn’t bother bringing them in,” she said, “There was a reason for rebelling. We would be next.”
“She doesn’t trust your people. She’s sure they will break the peace,” Abby said.
“I need to see the names,” Diyoza said, stress wasn’t helping her and the pain in the lower back aggravated.
“Do you know who it could be?” Abby asked, making space on the bed for her, so Marcus could message her back like Abby had taught him - she remembered how her back and feet hurt after a day of work and only Jake’s hard fingers could make her feel better. And while she knew it wasn’t the same as having a man who loved her touch her, the touch would still help.
“A few people. About twelve were left behind, alive, not sure of they all were that way when they got them,” she explained, before letting a sound of relief.
“That’s good,” Abby told her, “How are your feet?”
“Not bad. I’ve been barefoot since I got back here and the cold floor helps.”
“Anyone you want to be there?” Abby asked turning to the issue in question, just after laughing at Indra instructing Marcus about where he should put pressure, making some quick comment in trigedasleng that made him blush.
“No one I can remember anymore,” she answered, before moaning once more. “Do you know when I’m due?”
“You’re just in month 7, so still a few weeks to go. But I fear the baby will be born before the nine months - she didn’t have a regular growth, but she seems to be on track to be born with a good size.”
“Can you?”
“I’ll get the stethoscope.” Abby was checking the baby every night now and Diyoza as getting used to falling asleep listening to her heartbeat. “She’s okay,” Abby said, “Strong. You can rest for awhile or is your back still hurting?”
“I’m better. Thanks, doc.”
“Anything, call for us,” Abby said, helping her stand, before turning back to Marcus now in a whispered conversation with Indra, who had pulled her armour back on.
“I think Kane is good to train.”
“Indra, he is not.”
“I am, Abby,” Marcus argued, “Only small exercises. I can’t do anything anymore. Look at it as physical therapy.”
“Marcus... I don’t know... You needed Diyoza’s support to stand today.”
“Just arms, Abby,” Indra said, “Sitting down. Just to teach him how to throw a punch.”
“I know how to throw a punch, Indra. I was in the guard in the Ark.”
“You, skaikru are weak.” Indra and Marcus continued arguing, having now moved to trigedasleng, and Abby ended up letting them train as long as he didn’t exert himself.
Abby moved to another bed, and started writing in plans to how to get to Callie back - she had different options written down, but none stopped the Eligius people to come after them. She couldn’t risk it especially with the Russell guy so close to Clarke.
Abby also didn’t want to attack this people, there had been too much war, Abby wanted to make it work with Eligius III, but it wasn’t right what they were doing - if they had kidnapped the people from the Ark, how could she believe they hadn’t kidnapped everyone in those pods?
How could Abby continue to do her job and nothing else? She needed to, she knew that, but it was hard... but she was also making sure they were alive.
She filled two and half pages with notes when Marcus came back to her, resting behind her, kissing the top ofher head, and looking over her shoulder. He smelled nice and his hair was wet, dripping on the bed, and on her clothes, but she found comfort on the fact that he was alive.
“It’s dinner time,” he whispered.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Good. I didn’t pull any stitches, I promise.”
“Let me check,” she said, raising his clean shirt, and pulling out the bandage, to find his wound still healing.
“I’m okay, Abby, I’m okay,” he whispered.
“I know,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder as he rubbed her back. Before raising her face to kiss him, running her hands through his wet hair, Kane immediately kissed her back, like they hadn’t had the time to kiss like this since... in a long time.
“Where are Indra and Diyoza?” she whispered when she pulled back.
“They’ve gone to dinner. We should...”
“They can wait,” she said with a smile, “Now if you can exercise, I imagine we can take some time for us,” she said, and Marcus was ready to kiss her and taking her to their bed. “Carefully, Marcus. Don’t move too fast, or we’re leaving for dinner.”
“I won’t move a single thing,” he said with a smirk.
“I definitely did not mean that,” she said, getting up to lock the door. “Lay down and take of your clothes.”
“Yes, Doc,” he said with a laugh, and she turned to find him in his underwear and she undressed as well. The look of the bandage on his torso and neck constrasting with his naked skin hit her hard.
“I’m okay, Abby,” he told her, reading her thoughts.
“You sure?”
“I am,” he told her. “But we don’t need to go all the way right now. We have time, a lifetime together,” he said as she climbed in bad with him.
“Not really when we’re sharing bedrooms with other people,” she said, kissing him again, just before climbing on top of him, mindful of his wound, but ready to love him and be loved.
They ended up missing dinner all together, and Indra and Diyoza ended up coming to a locked door and their knocking woke up Abby and Marcus, who had fallen asleep together and still naked.
“Someone is at the door,” she whispered to his chest, “You go.”
“Why me? I’m hurt.”
“Haha, you didn’t complain before,” she said, “Also I did most of the work.”
“Are you complaining? You enjoyed yourself, Abby, three times if I remember right.”
“See, I need to rest. You worked me too much...” she said and convinced Marcus as the knocking outside got louder. He got up from the bed, pulling on his underwear, pants and shirt; while Abby put on her underwear and one of his shirts too, but letter herself continue being inside their bed - it was still warm and she was honestly tired, it was an emotional day.
“We brought you dinner since you were to busy to joins us,” Diyoza said giving him a plate, “I’m sure it was worth it.”
Indra made some comments in trigedasleng, and while Abby couldn’t recognize everything, it was enough to make her blush right next to Marcus. He came back to her, sitting with her on the bed, as they shared from the plate.
“I didn’t realize I was this hungry,” she commented as she took a bit of the thing that resembled bread, and had to many a and f for her to pronounce.
“I’m sure you worked out an appetite,” Diyoza said from the other side of the room.
“We’re never leaving this down,” he whispered and Abby just threw a smile at Diyoza, who laughed a bit more.
“Hey, I was meaning to mention, Farley called you my husband,” she said with a smile and then wasn’t sure how to react when Marcus’ face fell.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Abby. Diyoza stopped me from correcting her, she said it didn’t look good when I did it in--”
“Marcus,” she said, stopping his rambling, “Marcus, I like the sound of you being my husband,” she said with a smile. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I... I don’t know. You want me to be your husband?”
“Marcus, we’ve been pretty married, according to the kids, it was like that before we even got together,” she said, “And after everything we’ve been through,” she said with a kiss to his lips, “I know I plan to spend the rest of my life with you, and it would be a honor to be officially your wife.”
“I... Jake’s your husband,” he whispered, looking down, and she took his face in her hands immediately.
“Marcus, I’m with you. I’m in this with everything,” she reminded him, fearing that he had doubted this.
“I know, Abby, I know that, and I love you, I just didn’t think you would want to get married again, and I was okay with that.”
“I don’t need to get married to know what we have is real, Marcus, but if you want to, I would be happy to marry you,” she told him with a kiss, “And when it comes to Jake, he will always be my first husband, and us getting married won’t change that and it doesn’t need to. Jake to me will always be Jake, but I don’t think of him as owning the word husband. He was a man I love, someone I shared a life with,” she said, reaching for her neck, for something that hadn’t been there for years. “You are the man I love, the one I plan to share the rest of my life with.”
“Would you like to get married? After things calm down,” he asked, still nervous after everything she had just said, so she just kissed him with a laugh.
“I know you’re having a moment and everything, but you do know we’re still in the room, right?” Diyoza asked.
“Spechou,” Indra said, “it’s about time you made her your houmon.”
“Yes, congrats, but please let’s not have a repeat of this evening while we’re still in the room. There’s a baby in here.”
Abby and Marcus didn’t argue with that, but it didn’t stop them from kissing again, and a few more times as they finished eating. It felt light and happy like she hadn’t felt before, even if right now they were still in danger and had pressing issues to attend to.
“Hey, why didn’t you ever talk to me about this? About marriage, if it was something in your mind,” Abby asked him, very quietly so they wouldn’t be heard on the other side of the room.
“I did, after the few weddings we attended in the bunker.”
“But that wasn’t serious, just in the abstract. Why did you not bring up us?”
“I did,” he said.
“No, you didn’t, I would remember,” she argued.
“I did. You won’t remember,” he said and things started clicking in her mind.
“I was high.”
“I didn’t realize, not until the next morning and you couldn’t remember a word we said.”
“What did I say?” she asked, afraid of what she said.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Marcus...”
“It doesn’t matter, Abby. It really doesn’t.”
“I’m sorry, Marcus.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Abby, we’re okay,” he said, pulling her closer, kissing the top of her head.
He held her for a bit, just in silence, glad the other was alive, before she spoke up and brought up the notes she had written hours ago about the way to get Callie, and soon Indra and Diyoza joined - the discussion lasted most of the night.
The next day went by as normal, Abby worked, Diyoza was with her, and look at the names, recognizing the ones that were Eligius IV, Marcus stopped by late in the afterrnoon as her shift ended, to check the names too, writing down which ones were their people.
Abby stopped to look at Callie a few times, she still looked the same - she was the same, she hadn’t aged those six years - Callie was six years younger than her now; that felt weird to think, they had been each other’s partners since school started.
“Marcus,” she called, wanting to show him Callie, “she’s here.”
“She looks young,” he said.
“You’re going to look pretty old to her,” she smiled as Marcus complained, “I wonder what she will think of the beard and hair,” she said, touching his beard, “She really liked your hair when it wasn‘t gelled - it was that sweet moment when she woke up in the middle of the night, having fallen asleep on your bed, to leave the room and you were stll sleeping.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine myself with long hair in the Ark. My mom would have like it, she wanted me to grow my hair out as a child, but I already knew guard regulations.”
“We will see what she says when we get her out.”
“Abby...”
“Go, you have things to do. I just wanted you to see Callie too. I have work to do,” she said, kissing his lips, touching Callie’s pod again and moving on to her job.
Every night, Abby brought up the issue of Callie, she was getting closer to finishing her job, but she still had no answer from them. They just kept punching holes in each of her plans and only Diyoza was actively helping, which led to multiple discussions with her now-fiancee.
When Abby wasn’t mad and paralized with the idea of loosing Callie again, she saw the sense in Marcus not wanting to risk the fragile peace - Farley had not changed her mind about large societies being dangerous, but she was letting the progress with building their village continue (and Raven was safe and had been warned).
Abby had not expected the answer to her problems to come one early morning, two days before she was scheduled to be done, when a knock on the door woke them up. Abby who had fallen asleep semi-mad at Marcus woke up on his arms and took his hand as they were marched out of their rooms to the main office.
Blue and Aroa stood on each side of Farley, who in the middle had someone kneeling in front of her, a bag over her head.
“I have what you want, Doctor. We all know your plans wouldn’t work.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
And then she heard a faint, “Abby”, a sound of pain and longing. A voice she wished to hear for so long.
“Okay, what do you want?”
“If I need you, you come. You will do anything I want when I need.”
“None of those things can include hurting my people,” Abby argued.
“Of course. I wouldn’t ask that of you.”
“You ask for me, not anyone else. Not Clarke. Nor Raven. Or anyone.”
“Agreed.”
“Agreed,” Abby said.
“Abby,” Marcus called, she squeezed his hand, but didn’t look behind her, “Take me instead, make the agreement with me.”
“Ohhh, I’m sorry if you’re mistaken, but you’re not as useful as your wife,” she answered, “But I won’t stop you from coming with her when I call on her presence.”
“It will be okay,” Abby told him.
“You can come and take your win,” she said, moving to exit the room, “I still expect you to be done in two days and at work on time today,” she left with that, followed, by her people, leaving the five of them alone in her office.
Abby with a last squeeze at Marcus hand ran to the center of the room, kneeling on the ground, pulling the hood out of Callie’s face and throwing her arms around her. Tears falling down now and words of love shared between the two women.
“You’re alive... I missed you,” could be heard from both women, over and over again.
“I’m never letting go,” Abby whispered, to her ear, “You’re safe now.”
“Where are we?” Callie asked pulling back, but not taking long to throw herself onto Abby again, without an answer.
Diyoza and Indra looked on, finally fully realizing how important Callie was to Abby, the strong love she held for Clarke or Kane. Marcus was at the table, finally finding something sharp, to kneel next to Callie cut her restraints and she threw her arms around Abby immediately.
They stayed in the comfort of each other’s arms for a bit longer, and then Abby helped her up, offering comfort to someone who hadn’t used her legs in awhile, and when she pulled back, she recognized another face, even if it looked very different.
Callie walked up to Marcus and threw her arms around him and then pulled back and punched him on the chest, then hugged him again and pulled back and punched him in the same place, and then hugged him again and then punched him again, and then on the fourth hug, Marcus threw his arms around her and she melted into his arms and chest. In the twenty something years of their on and off relationship, Callie had never felt that warm and safe in his arms.
“I still hate you for trying to float Abby,” she whispered, looking up to him.
“I know. I hate myself for that too,” he said, looking at Abby behind them, and squeezed her a bit tighter.
“You have a beard and long hair,” she commented, tracing his beard, “How did it got this long?” she asked, turning behind her, “You have grey streak, Abby. I don’t get how.”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be confusing, girl.”
“That’s Diyoza,” Kane said, pulling away from Callie, “And Indra.”
“Indra is a grounder.”
“Like with the kids, attacking them,” she said, before immediately adding, “Clarke, darling, how’s Clarke?” she said, reaching for Abby.
“Clarke is okay, she’s okay. Safe.” Callie pulled her for a hug again.
“And yes, one of those grounders. The kids landed in our territory.”
“We made peace with the grounders,” Marcus spoke, ”Much has happened since then.”
“Let’s go to our room,” Abby said, taking Callie’s hand, as they moved through the halls. Indra and Diyoza moved to their side of the room, while Callie moved with Abby, before she was stopped.
“There’s only one used bed.”
“Right...” Marcus whispered, taking his hand to his hair, not knowing how to answer.
“Marcus and I are together.”
“Ohh...”
“It’s been awhile now.”
“So it’s not been less than a week since we came down.”
“There have been about 132 years.”
“Okay, you’re not 172, Abs,” she said with a laugh.
“No, you spent 132 asleep. I spent 125 of those asleep as well.”
“You lived seven years without me.”
“Almost seven.”
“On Earth, with Clarke and Marcus.”
“Closer to seven months and the ground was beautiful and fascinating, and dangerous. And then six years under the floor without Clarke.”
“You had Marcus.”
“Yes, a lot happened, Callie, I don’t know where to start.” Callie took Abby’s hand and they sat on a made bed, Marcus giving them space and going to their own bed; Abby and Callie sat next to each other against the headboard, holding hands between them, and then she spoke.
“Start by where we are, Abby. And then the beginning,” she spoke and Abby told her the truth.
#the 100 fic#the 100#kabby#abby griffin#callie cartwig#marcus kane#charmaine diyoza#indra kom trikru#abigail griffin#fanfic#fanfiction#fic
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you’ve watched ER?? omggg me too, i have started a re watch of it recently and damn, when i say hotchniss live in my mind rent free i really mean it. because all i can think is wow, imagine carol and doug but it’s hotch and prentiss.
hotch, ER chief of staff who has never really been able to commit to someone after the loss of his wife, and who began a relationship with emily too soon afterwards and breaking it off after a few months, only to realise he’s absolutely in love with her when she begins to see someone else.
emily, an ER doctor, (ik carol was a nurse but i just cannot see emily as a nurse idk why) who refuses to acknowledge that she’s absolutely undeniably in love with aaron hotchner, and begins dating someone else, all while trying to ignore the pull she feels towards hotch as he fights to get her back.
or are they more mark and susan? best friends for years, he’s married with a kid until it falls apart, she’s very work crazy, keeps her personal life separate from work but after years of denying their feelings they give in?
idk man,, it’s just it lives, no, THEY live in my mind. rent free. and for what? very inconvenient :/ hahaha
OH anon, I have. It’s actually the first show I ever “shipped,” at an age where I was WAYY too young to even comprehend what was happening. So much of it went over my head. I was OBSESSED. FWIW, ER was way ahead of its time in terms of progressive storylines. I recently did a rewatch in March (quarantine perks). I LOVE the Hotchniss AU ER idea. OMG - you are so right (yes, Emily as a doctor. I LOVE IT). Doug was such a little shit to Carol, but George Clooney is a beautiful man (and always will be). I lean towards Doug/Carol with the Hotchniss plot line more than Mark and Susan. Doug and Carol had chemistry that couldn’t be matched. Plus, Hotch would be a great twin dad. : ) Yes. I love it. SO Much.
On the subject of ER, I HAVE to say, Abby and Luka are my endgame. My younger self stanned Carter and Abby so hard and on my rewatch I wanted to gauge my eyes out at that because those two were THE most toxic pairing that show had. Carter is such a whiny little brat most of the time. Luka is .... ah. I love him so damn much. Luka loved Abby to no end. The scene in the bar in WSNE where Aaron punches Tom (chapter ... I don’t even remember now) is based on the scene where Luka goes and punches that guy who assaulted Abby in her apartment. That was actually one of the first scenes I wrote, I think. I am such a longtime ER stan.
Sorry for this ramble - but I just got very excited : )
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Five times cried ( idk, angst its the best i got )
SEND “FIVE TIMES ______ED” FOR A DRABBLE OF 5 DIFFERENT TIMES OUR CHARACTERS DID THAT. | status; selectively accepting - @faultedleader
they gotta go under a read more though cause, damn i got carried away.
letters from home
1. it has to be lincoln’s fault. when she thought of what her big brother would do come graduation she always assumed college. fun. some time to finally act like the eighteen year old he was but she never imagined he’d come home to tell mom and her that they two men had enlisted in the army. at first she’s angry. he tells them and mom wanders stumbles towards bellamy before she wraps her arms around his frame and tells him how proud she is. what a good man. a good soldier. at their mother’s last words, octavia stomps up the staircase, leaving the two alone in the living room. time passes and she ignores his gentle knocks on her door. ignores his pleas for her to come out of her room. her once brightly lit room succumbs to darkness as the sun sets and octavia hears her mother chatter with another outside her window until eventually the whole house falls silent. she continues to sit with her knees tucked against her chest, back pressed against her bedroom door when her ears perk up at the sound of his footsteps heading to his room. how could he do this? the thought has been turning in her mind and finally as she gets to her feet she’s ready to ask him. throwing open her bedroom door she goes across the hall, not bothering to knock before she barges into his room. “what’s wrong with you!” she demands, arms coming to cross over her chest. “how — how can you leave me?” it’s selfish, but he’s always been there. she’s angry, vibrating even when his eyes come to meet hers. that’s when she loses it. the tears that have welled in her eyes begin to fall. too quick for her to harshly brush them away. “it’s supposed to be you and me – it’s always been you and me against the whole world and now you’re just going to leave me here?” her head shakes, voice losing to her sobs as she moves further into his room. “w —what am i — i supposed t – to do without you, you can’t leave me bell, what if you get hurt, what if you die over there and i never see you again?”
2. she’s nervous and her fingernails reflect it. fox had to take octavia’s hand in hers to stop her from completely chewing on her nails until they bled as they wait near the gate bellamy and lincoln’s should be coming out of any minute. they’re not kids anymore. by now the girls have graduated and it feels like it’s been too damn long since she’s seen her brother. octavia spent weeks rereading the letter bellamy had sent her. the one that stated it was time and they would be back at the end of the month. she can still see the image of her tackling fox to the ground in a hug, screaming he’s coming home! they’re coming home! octavia’s head snaps up when a warm voice comes over the PA, announcing that bellamy’s plane was beginning to deboard. by now she can’t stop the shakes in her hands and knees as she waits, emerald hues searching for the familiar freckled face as other soldier’s begin trickling in. her grip on fox’s hand only tightens as her heart begins to beat rapidly in her chest. come on, bell, come on. she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth when she takes one step forward, as if that one step might make it so she can see him more easily. where are you? where are you? eyes continue to search for him until…there! she doesn’t even realize she’s let go of her best friend's hand and is dogging her way through the crowd until her body slams full force into her brother. she doesn’t notice the tears that have begun to blur her vision as arms wrap around his neck. hands tightly dig into his uniform as if someone might try to take him from her again. “i love you, big brother.” she whispers, head resting against his as the tears come pouring down her cheeks.
broken inside with no place to go; there’s nobody home
3. octavia, group therapy is very vital to your recovery and we can’t keep giving you the benefits without any of the work. that catches her attention. causes her to look up from the floor as dead eyes settle on her therapist. octavia knows the benefits doctor griffin refers to is the luxury of having her brother here. three visits a week. it’s not nearly enough time for her considering bellamy’s only home for a month but she’ll take whatever she can get. even if that means a family therapy session between the blake family and her doctor. abby wasn’t overly thrilled when bellamy was the only one to step through the doorway earlier and octavia wasn’t paying close enough attention to the excuse aurora had given her brother. but it didn’t bother the younger blake. she didn’t need aurora. “what you want me to say?” octavia asks finally, breaking the silence as she tucks her knees against her chest on the sofa in abby’s office. she’s always hard during these times. refusing to give abby barely an inch. well, maybe let’s start with your childhood, tell me what that was like – or if you feel up to it, we can all talk about the last couple years, must be quite a change at home with bellamy’s absence. her jaw clenches. the younger sibling in her ready to jump to her big brother’s defence. she hated the way her doctor spoke – making it seem like all her problems could have easily been solved had bellamy stayed. as if it were that simple. normally, she can bite down the urge. smother the need to jump to his defence when it’s just patient and doctor sitting in these four walls. but this time with bellamy beside her, hues narrow towards the doctor. “sure, love to.” her tone drips with bitterness as she rolls her shoulders back, sitting up straighter. “so what, you wanna know about how my brother’s been my parent longer than i can even remember? how bellamy’s been the only good thing we got going on in this family?” she hesitates, eyes shifting towards him beside her. it’s not untrue. he was a hero. her hero. there wasn’t anyone who could tell octavia differently. “or you wanna start with my mother – i could tell you about the time she took off for so long that bell started forging her signatures on my school forms, y’know so no one notices she had disappeared again, so social services wouldn’t separate us.” octavia explains casually with a lift of her shoulders, as if this was the most normal thing she knew. “or sure, let’s talk about when bellamy had to go – when i made the mistake of asking aurora if she could tell me about my dad, school project – some family tree shit,” her head shakes, hues shifting back towards her doctor. “she slapped me so hard i thought her hand print was gonna be there forever – didn’t go to school for a few days after that one.” the look on her doctor’s face shows the disapproval – must not have been what she had in mind for their group therapy session. but octavia’s tired. so sick of everyone looking at her brother like he was some sort of trigger for her. “maybe, you actually wanna fucking listen to the time i woke up in my room with aurora’s hands around my neck – when she tried her hardest to squeeze all the life out of me,” it’s been three months but even now as the words flow past her lips it’s like she’s back in her dark bedroom. the panic and fear rises in her. tears well in her eyes for the scared little girl her mother tried to murder. the tears that prick her eyes bring about her anger as she gets to her feet. it’s not unusual for voices to be raised during session with abby. that one hour with her was always emotional for patients. except maybe louis. “or maybe,” her voice grows louder, a single tear rolls down her face. “maybe we should talk about the time i woke up in a haze with my mom’s body pinning me to the ground, feeling every single bit of pain the razor made against my arm but unable to stop any of it!” this time as her words stop the tears continue to flow. leaving tracks on her cheeks as she realizes she’s said too much. swallowing hard she pushes her hair out of her face. “i’m done – i want to go back to my room.” she finishes, unable to look her brother in the eye.
i won’t let anything happen to you; separated
4. she can’t help it when the sobs erupt from her lips. nightmares bring out the fear in her. the loneliness however is what causes her tears. it’s not as if the skybox is new to her. it’s been two years since she last saw her father before being locked away for a crime she’s still unsure of. it’s then she hears the soothing voice coming from the cell beside her. they’re supposed to be asleep. not supposed to talk to the people beside them and yet after two years, the boy beside her is still trying to calm her fears. even if it meant he could be punished. “w-what if he just didn’t love me anymore?” she asks, bringing the worn out blanket with her as she settles herself in the corner where she can hear the other boy the most. maybe she never committed a crime at all. her father simply didn’t want her – better to get rid of her now before she became more of a hassle as she grew older. “do you think —” she starts, sniffling quietly as her gaze casts downwards. “do you think that’s why i never had a mommy, she didn’t want me either?” aurora asks, her voice feeling smaller than ever before.
i was born for this - azgeda au
5. “bellamy, bellamy!” octavia screams calling out for her brother, emerald hues flashing open. she awakens with a sharp gasp in, immediately sitting up with a great force. the nightmare had seemed so real. like she was back in the small cell that kept her a prisoner to the queen’s torturous rath. for a few moments she sits on the edge of the medical bed, feet dangling over the side as she tries to steady her breaths. she doesn’t even realize she’d been crying until she hears the light drip as tears meet with the paper covering on the bed. it’s the small sound that allows her to let it all go. she stays quiet -- something that’s been drilled into her since the moment she was born. shh, shh, i won’t let anything bad happen to you octavia, i promise. she’s always been taught to make herself smaller and bellamy’s always been there to make everything better for her. except this time, he can’t. this time he’s at the center of what’s destroying her. who are you -- bellamy you killed everyone! listen, octavia -- our new chancellor pike put lincoln in lock up. she’s so deep in her sorrow and thoughts that she didn’t even notice bellamy had made his way inside med bay. that he was standing in front of her, reaching out to calm her fears. “no!” she shouts, the tears blurring her vision as fingers push at the body in front of her. “you did this.” her head shakes. “you’re a monster.”
#faultedleader#( letters from home | group military au )#( broken inside with no place to go; there's nobody home | psychiatric hospital au )#abuse tw#( i was born for this | season three )
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sail with me to someplace new
clexa pirate au | chapter 1/13
Summary: When Clarke learns that her father’s trading ship has been attacked by pirates, she sets out on a daring rescue mission. The only problems – Jake could be being held prisoner anywhere in the Caribbean and Clarke has never sailed a ship before. To help save her father’s life, Clarke attempts to enlist the help of the notorious Captain Lexa Woods, a fearsome pirate who is just as broody and mysterious as she is unwilling to offer her assistance.
Read on AO3.
Secrets.
The town of Nassau feeds off them. With sailors of every kind passing through the port every day and the pirate population rumoured to outnumber everybody else, the town drips with corruption and delinquency, and with that comes the secrets.
Clarke Griffin trades in them. Her mother runs a very respectable medical practice from their cottage using medicines and equipment acquired through not so respectable methods. Being the daughter of the best doctor in town means that Clarke is a familiar face to many, which has its share of advantages. The people in Nassau love to gossip as much as they love to drink – who is sleeping with who, who is working on which ship, who has stolen what from somebody else – and Clarke hears it all. She trades gossip for more gossip, then trades those secrets for tangible goods; medicines, herbs, ointments, even gold. It always amazes Clarke what some people are willing to exchange for the right piece of information.
Abby Griffin turns a blind eye to what her daughter gets up to around town. As long as Clarke helps her with the patients a few mornings each week and returns home safely each night, Abby pays very little attention to how Clarke acquires the supplies she needs to keep the medical practice in business, particularly with Clarke’s father away for often months at a time working on a trading ship bring imported goods into the Caribbean.
Besides, Clarke trading secrets for medicinal supplies is hardly the most scandalous or illegal thing happening in a town inhabited by so many pirates.
Having lived in Nassau since the age of three, Clarke knows the streets of the little town as well as anybody could, the web of wide dirt paths and hidden alleyways ingrained in her memory as clearly as if she were holding a map of the streets in her hand. The walk from the apothecary by the docks to her own house a little further inland is not far – she made the outward journey earlier in the day in just a few minutes, thanks to the shortcut behind the old tavern – but it feels much longer on the way back home with the new cargo in her arms. The wooden box is awkward to carry, splintered edges digging harsh grooves into the soft skin of Clarke’s hands where she holds it up and the muscles in her upper arms screaming out in pain under its heavy weight, a reminder that she is not as strong as the young lad who packed the box up for her to take home with her.
She makes the final turn onto the familiar road upon which the small cottage she lives in with her mother is situated, scuffing up a cloud of dust in her hurry to get home before her arms give out completely under the weight of the box.
“Mother!”
With her lack of available hands to knock, Clarke settles for shouting through the oak door and giving it two hard kicks with the tip of her leather boots.
“Mother, it’s me! Can you let me in? I’m about to drop all the medicine!”
Clarke hears a flurry of activity on the other side of the door and it swings open within seconds to reveal Clarke’s mother, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and wisps of graying hair escaping from the hastily made bun on top of her head. It’s clear that she’s in the middle of something, or at least that might register with Clarke if the muscles in her arms weren’t crying out for her to relieve them of their heavy load.
Clarke pushes past her mother, ignoring the cry of protest as she rushes straight into the room on her immediate right, which her mother uses as a treatment room for patients.
Where she is met with the surprising (and, if Clarke is being completely frank, not entirely pleasant) sight of a bare man’s chest, scattered with dark wiry hair and where a horrible gash just beneath his collar bone is oozing a nasty mixture of blood and some other sticky fluid.
“Oh,” Clarke gapes, suddenly forgetting her desperation to drop the box in her arms as the sheer amount of unexpectedly naked male skin on show startles her into stillness. “Oh, I am so sorry.”
The man, who is perched on the edge of the large wooden table in the centre of the room that Abby Griffin uses to treat her patients, wearing nothing but a loose pair of dark brown britches, seems unaffected by Clarke’s sudden clattering entrance to the room.
“Clarke, what have I told you about not entering this room without my say so?” Abby scolds her as she enters the room behind Clarke. “I could have been operating on somebody for all you knew!”
“Sorry,” Clarke mumbles, still determinedly avoiding staring at the shirtless man sitting on the table in the centre of the room as she places the crate down on the counter against the far wall of the room, the bottles within clinking as she does so, “but this box is heavy. I had to put it down or I would have dropped it.”
“I’m so sorry, Marcus,” Abby says to the man, and Clarke turns their way enough to watch as her mother dips her fingers into a pot of salve and starts rubbing it on the wound on the man’s chest. “Clarke, do you remember Marcus Kane?”
Clarke lets her eyes flicker up to the man’s face, meeting his dark eyes with her own and making a feeble attempt to return his warm smile as if she hasn’t just walked in on him in a state of semi-undress.
“Hello,” she says to him.
“Captain Kane works for the same trading company as your father,” Abby explains, dabbing the lower end of the cut with a warm washcloth that has the captain hissing in pain, and then smoothing over the area with the salve on her fingers. “He’s an old friend of Jake’s. He visited us many times when you were a child.”
Captain Kane’s face is familiar to Clarke, though she can say with a fair degree of certainty that it has been quite a few years since she has seen it before, and there are more lines around his eyes, more gray in his hair, than she recalls from the last time she saw him.
“You’ve grown up since I last saw you,” Marcus confirms Clarke’s thoughts. “You were just a girl, I think, causing your parents all kinds of trouble with the boy from across the road. What’s his name again? Thelonius’ son.”
“Wells,” Clarke answers for him.
“That’s it,” Marcus nods in recollection. “Quite the pair, you two. Are you still friends?”
Replying with a nod, Clarke then adds, “But we don’t see each other as much anymore. He’s busy working for his father and I help mother with the patients in here.”
Clarke’s eyes drop to the scar on Marcus’ upper chest again, this time allowing herself to examine it more closely. It’s a pretty long gash that stretches from near his shoulder to the centre of his breastbone, lying almost parallel to his clavicle. It doesn’t look particularly deep, but the blood that is caked into the hair on his upper chest makes it look no less vicious, most likely a brutal swipe of a sharp blade cutting through the skin.
“A swordfight?” Clarks hazards a guess.
“Pirates,” Marcus nods, the muscles in his forehead tensing into a bitter frown.
Clarke’s eyes widen in surprise at the word. It’s impossible to live in a town like Nassau and not be aware of the pirates, but they can be so difficult to distinguish from the normal honest sailors that Clarke tends to just lump them into one big group, along with the non-seafaring drunkards who live in the town. She knows a lot about the pirates who pass through Nassau and the dangerous and crooked lives that they lead, which is exactly why she tries her best to stay out of whatever trouble they might be causing next, unwilling to allow herself to be a victim in their next heinous plot.
“They attacked your ship?” Clarke gasps.
“No, nothing like that,” Marcus replies. “I tried to intervene in a fight in a tavern and one of them pulled out a knife.”
“That’s why I tell you to stay away from places like that,” Abby interjects, giving Clarke a stern look.
“I do,” insists Clarke.
It’s only a little bit of a lie. There’s only one inn that Clarke goes to, a fairly quiet one that is much further inland than the taverns that tend to be frequented by the rowdier sailors, and she doesn’t go to it very often either.
“That’s not what Raven has been telling me,” Abby comments, quirking a single eyebrow at her daughter.
Clarke blushes furiously and, not for the first time, mentally curses the fact that her best friend is one of her mother’s patients.
“And you seriously believe Raven over me?”
Abby crosses the room and opens a door on a wooden cabinet, pulling out a small box, from inside which she takes a sharp needle and some thread. As she makes her way back over to Marcus, she sends a smile Clarke’s way, warm and gentle and with the tiniest hint of an amused smirk threatening to pull at the very corners of her lips.
“I’m not angry, Clarke. I was young once.” For the briefest of moments, Clarke wrinkles her nose up in disgust at the thought of a teenage Abby running around the town getting up to the kind of things that Clarke does, but then Abby continues with much more solemnity, “I just worry about you more when your father is away.”
“He’ll be back soon though,” Clarke reminds her, her voice full of hopeful optimism that Jake will in fact return from his travels sooner rather than later.
There is a moment of silence as Abby frowns in concentration, splashing some alcohol over a fresh cloth and dabbing it across the cut on Marcus’ chest, then makes the first stitch to seal the wound. Marcus grimaces visibly, but makes no sound.
“I know,” Abby agrees with her daughter, continuing with a neat row of dark stitches that contrast against the pale skin of Marcus’ chest, “and then I can go back to worrying that both of you will wake up drunk in an alleyway with no recollection of the previous night.”
Rolling her eyes once more, Clarke says, “That happened to Raven and not to me.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m just teasing.”
Finishing up Marcus’ stitches, Abby cuts the thread with a pair of sharp silver scissors, placing the needle away to the side to be sterilised and smiling at Marcus.
“There, all done,” she tells him. Her mothering tone returning, she adds sternly, “And the same goes for you – stay out of trouble! No more trying to play the hero. You won’t be so lucky next time.”
Marcus bows his head slightly in shame as he reaches for his still-bloodstained shirt, slipping his arms into the sleeves and buttoning it up from the bottom. He leaves the top couple of buttons, the shirt hanging open enough to display part of his chest, and he casually rolls the sleeves up to his elbows before placing his tricorne hat on his head.
Returning her attention to Clarke, Abby says, “Thank you for your help this morning. You’re free to do whatever you want this afternoon.”
Trying not to seem too eager to get out of her mother’s company and out into the town, Clarke says, “I told Raven I’d see her later. I’ll be with her if you need me.”
“Stay safe,” Abby warns her, as Clarke makes her way towards the door.
Clarke’s default reaction is to roll her eyes she forgets to wait until she is out of Abby’s sight before doing so, earning herself a scolding glare from her mother.
“I mean it, Clarke. There are some dangerous people out there. You need to be careful.”
Clarke takes a deep breath, then plasters a fake smile of obedience onto her face, before responding dutifully, “Yes, mother.”
Pressing a quick kiss to Abby’s cheek, Clarke hurries out of the room and through the front door to go and find her best friend.
Raven is as predictable as the cycle of the sun and the moon and Clarke finds her, just as expected, tinkering with a boat down in the shipyard. She seems to sense Clarke’s approach more than she hears it, looking up from the long plank of wood she’s midway through sawing in half and shooting Clarke her signature smirk.
“Griffin.”
“You told my mother that we went to the tavern?”
It’s not the question that Clarke ever intended to open with, but with the conversation with her mother still fresh in her mind, it’s what ends up coming out of her mouth.
“Sorry, but your mother has a certain charm that I find it very difficult to lie to,” Ravens answers with a shrug, as she starts moving the saw back and forward in even strokes through the coarse wood once more. Raven lifts her head slightly, her brown eyes lit up with mischief, and then adds, “That, and I can’t be held accountable for anything that I do or say after taking morphine.”
Clarke perches herself on the edge of a bench near to Raven’s work station, where the shadow of the boat provides a welcome respite from the unrelenting heat of the afternoon Caribbean sun.
“Well, we may have only been to that inn a few times, but my mother probably thinks I’m an alcoholic.”
“There was that one time that you…” Raven starts unhelpfully.
“Yes, thank you, Raven,” Clarke is quick to interrupt, having been friends with Raven for long enough to know exactly where her best friend is heading with that sentence.
“I mean,” Raven screws up her face in disgust, “he wasn’t even that attractive…”
“Thank you, Raven,” Clarke repeats through clenched teeth, flushing in shame at the memory of the night in question. Definitely not one of her finest moments.
As the saw in Raven’s hand finally makes its way through the entirety of the wood, one end of the neatly sawed plank drops to the deck with a clatter.
“Please don’t deny me of this one thing,” Raven grins wickedly. “It’s the only shit I have to hold against you.”
Raven tucks the shorter of the two halves of the plank beneath her arm and hauls herself up onto the stepladder beside the boat as best as she can with only one working leg. Clarke worries for a moment that Raven won’t be able to balance up there and gets ready to dart forwards and catch her, but Raven manages to support most of her weight on her good leg, using the wooden peg at the foot of the other as a prop to keep her stable.
“Can you pass me that hammer, please?”
Clarke’s eyes dance across Raven’s untidy workstation, where tools of all shapes and sizes lie haphazardly scattered in a mess that makes Clarke wonder how Raven ever manages to get any work done at all, let alone earn herself the reputation as one of the finest shipwrights in a town inhabited by sailors.
“Which one?”
Clarke can almost hear the way that Raven rolls her eyes in her tone as she answers, “One that looks like a hammer.”
Selecting a heavy tool from the crate at the foot of Raven’s stepladder, Clarke extends her arm to pass it up to her best friend. She watches as Raven pulls a couple of iron nails out of a pouch on the leather utility belt slung low on her hips, then starts to hammer the plank of wood in place over a hole in the side of the boat.
“Whose boat is this?” Clarke asks Raven, raising her voice so as to be heard over the rhythmic sound of the hammer hitting the head of the nail.
“That guy,” Raven replies, taking a couple of seconds out from hammering the nail to point over her shoulder with her thumb.
Clarke follows the direction of Raven’s thumb and her eyes fall on a burly guy with tattoos covering parts of his exposed skin and hair cut close to his scalp. He’s an intimidating figure, his eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the two girls near his boat and his muscled arms folded across his chest, and it’s a wonder that Clarke didn’t notice his presence before. Clarke gives him a meek wave, which he doesn’t return, and then turns her attention back to Raven.
“Wow,” says Clarke. “I hope you know what you’re doing because he looks like he’ll skin you alive if you put even one nail out of place.”
Raven stops what she’s doing and turns to give Clarke a look; one eyebrow quirked ever so slightly, the rest of her face impassive except for a glare in her eyes that looks like it could bore a hole right through Clarke’s skull.
“Have I ever made a mistake before?”
“I’d say that Kyle Wick was a pretty big mistake…”
Raven gives her mother of all scowls and Clarke worries for just a moment that the heavy tool in Raven’s hand is going to find a new home for itself embedded in Clarke’s head, until Raven’s gaze turns into a squint focused on something far behind Clarke.
“What’s tha- … oh my god, I think it’s a body!”
Clarke’s head snaps around in the blink of an eye and she has no trouble spotting the dark person-shaped mass lying motionless on the pale sand in the distance.
Before she has time to even consider what she is doing, Clarke is running towards the body, the small heels of her leather boots getting awkwardly stuck in the sand with each stride that she takes and her long skirt swishing around her ankles. She hears a clatter behind her but doesn’t think to check that Raven is okay. (Raven has survived much worse than stumbling off a two-foot high stepladder, Clarke reasons, while this girl lying in the sand is quite clearly unconscious and could be in desperate need of urgent medical care, if she isn’t already dead.)
She’s about halfway there when she hears somebody coming up behind her, and she is briefly confused about who this person might be – the rhythmic thud of one heavy footstep after another, gradually getting louder as the mysterious person catches up with her, means that it can’t be Raven, who would need nothing short of a miracle to be able to chase after her on only one good leg. Clarke’s question is quickly answered, however, when the sailor who owns the boat that Raven is fixing overtakes Clarke on her left, his stride much larger than her own and his thick arms pumping fast as he shoots past Clarke.
He reaches the girl long before Clarke does, and by the time that Clarke finally reaches them, out of breath and a little sweaty, the sailor has already rolled the girl onto her back and has his ear against her chest, checking for her heartbeat.
“Is she breathing?” Clarke wheezes, bringing one hand up to her hip to clutch at the ache in her side as she drops to her knees on the sand next to the unconscious girl.
“Only just,” the man replies gruffly. “She needs warming up. I can make her up a bed on my ship.”
Clarke dismisses his suggestion at once with a shake of her head.
“She needs immediate medical attention,” Clarke insists. “My mother is a doctor. We live five minutes away. If you can carry her, I can show you the way.”
The man hesitates for just a moment, his dark eyes fixed on Clarke as he assesses her words, but when he glances back down to the barely breathing girl on the sand between them, he makes his decision and gives Clarke a curt nod. He sweeps the girl up into his arms almost effortlessly, draping one of her arms around his neck as he cradles her against his chest like a small child, then looks at Clarke expectantly.
“Let’s go,” Clarke says decisively. She looks up at the sailor as they begin their journey off the beach and onto the boardwalk that lines the docks. “I’m Clarke, by the way. Clarke Griffin.”
The man grunts out a single word in response.
“Lincoln.”
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Our story is still unwritten (1/?)
Summary: Taking a deep breath, Abby smiles when the smell of books fills her nose. She has always liked libraries, liked being surrounded by hundreds of books. After the loss of her husband two years ago and her daughter leaving for college, Abby finds herself with some free time so she decides to visit the local library every Saturday. She soon becomes friends with the librarian, an elderly woman named Vera, who just happens to have a son who’s single too.
Aka Kabby meeting in a library modern AU story
Taking a deep breath, Abby smiles when the smell of books fills her nose. She has always liked libraries, liked being surrounded by hundreds of books. Growing up, there wasn’t a Saturday when she didn’t visit the local library and god knows she spent endless hours studying and revising in the library during her college years. After becoming a doctor and especially after she married Jake and had her daughter Abby didn’t have that much time left to visit. Sure, there was the occasional visit with Clarke when she was little, but it soon became clear that she was more interested in drawing and painting than reading.
But now, after being a widow for almost two years and her daughter off to the college herself, Abby finally has the time again for weekly visits. During her first visit, she ended up crying over a copy of John Grisham’s latest book because Jake had always loved his work. She’d been mortified when the librarian had caught her sniffing in a corner, eyes red and swollen, tears streaming over her cheeks, but the woman, who had later introduced herself as Vera, had merely handed her a handkerchief before pulling her into a hug and letting her basically cry until the woman’s shirt was wet from her tears. To thank Vera for her kindness and to appease her embarrassment, Abby had brought her a cup of tea and a muffin the week after. Which quickly became a weekly thing. She’d enter the library and stop by Vera’s desk for a quick chat while handing her the cup and whatever food she brought with her before dropping her bag near the couches on the far right and picking a book.
Closing the door behind her, Abby spots Vera carrying some books and makes her way over with a smile. When the older woman notices her presence, she drops the books on the cart and gives her the friendly smile that seems to be permanently stuck on the older woman’s face.
“Morning Vera”, Abby greets her while putting her things in the cart, “I brought you a cup of Camille tea and one of my blueberry muffins”
“Oh, thank you, dear. Those muffins are delicious”, Vera replies as she pulls Abby in a quick but affectionate hug.
After they pull away, Vera lets her eyes wander over her in a scrutinising manner. Abby’s looking much better than the first time the older woman found her crying. Her eyes seem less sad and she’s got a bit more colour. When she’s satisfied, Vera gives her a content nod before gesturing at Abby’s regular spot.
“I already took the liberty to place Pride & Prejudice next to your seat”, Vera states, eliciting a broad smile from Abby. After giving the other woman another short hug, Abby makes her way over before settling down and diving straight into the world of Elizabeth Bennet.
——–
Marcus is still on the phone when he walks through the doors of the library, deliberately ignoring the no cell phones sign. It was quiet anyways, besides, there were some perks to being the son of the librarian.
When his mother spots him on the phone, she throws him her usual exasperated but affectionate look, while almost imperceptibly shaking her head and returning her attention to the computer screen.
Swiftly ending the conversation, Marcus opens his mouth to greet his mother, only to falter when a soft laugh catches his attention. Brows furrowed, he turns his head towards the source of the noise and feels his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the woman sitting there. She’s all curled up on a sofa, book in one hand while the other one supports her head. Marcus can’t properly see her face because it’s partially covered by her hair, but even from that, he can tell that she’s beautiful.
“Her name’s Abby,” Vera casually remarks.
“Sorry?”, Marcus mumbles, tearing his gaze away from the woman and turning his attention back to his mother.
His mother smiles, eyes twinkling, “Her name’s Abby Griffin, she comes in every Saturday and almost always stays until closing time. She always brings me a cup of tea and something to snack in the morning. Lovely woman. Regularly stops by my desk throughout the day for a short chat.”
“Hmm”, Marcus hums, before sneaking another glance at the woman, observing how she’s biting her lower lip while being completely immersed in her book.
“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” Vera offers.
Returning his focus on his mother, Marcus can tell by the gleam of her eyes that she’s trying to set him up, again. Remembering the last time he ended up going on a date with one of her suggestions, he inwardly shudders. That date had been a complete disaster. He still doesn’t know whatever possessed his mother to set him up with someone like Diana Sydney. That woman had spent the entire evening talking about herself and whenever he brought up his job or his children, she’d make a face, before giving him some names of excellent boarding schools. How he managed to survive the evening without stabbing himself with a fork or banging his head against the table is still a mystery to him.
“That won’t be necessary mom. I’m still recovering from the last date you forced on me”, he informs her, smirking when his mother throws him a sheepish look.
“And I’d like to apologise for that one, again. She seemed nice enough to me, but guess that even I can be wrong sometimes”, she offers with a shrug, causing Marcus to chuckle.
“Guess so”, he agrees and they share an amused smile.
“Oh, do you have to book on butterflies O. requested?”, Marcus asks after a couple of seconds.
“Ah, yes I have. I already took it from the rack as well, so you don’t have to go looking for it”, Vera responds, turning in her seat so she can pick up the book she’d set aside.
“Here it is dear”, she adds, handing him the book, “I already checked it out for the usual two weeks although I’m certain that she’ll finish it before the weekend is over”
“Oh, she’ll probably finish it tonight after she’s supposed to go to sleep. I caught her reading with a flashlight around midnight just two days ago”, Marcus recalls with a fond smile on his face.
“That girl really loves to read”, Vera responds with a fond smile of her own.
“She certainly does, but I got to get going. Her karate class ends in twenty and traffic is slow due to the snow. You’re coming for lunch tomorrow?”
Vera nods, “I am. I’ll see you tomorrow Marcus, please drive safely”, she cautions, standing up so she can give him a peck on the cheek.
“I will mom”, he assures her and throws one last glance at the woman, no Abby, in the corner before leaving.
#kabby fanfic#kabby au#the 100#kabby#marcus kane#abby griffin#kabbysource#kabbyfam#kabbytrash#kabbykru#otp let's call it hope#skyparents#lore writes
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