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Archive for the tag “genre: angst”

The 100 (TV) fic: Every Time We Say Goodbye

everytime

Bellamy/Clarke

Saying good-bye gets harder and harder. Bellamy hopes this one isn’t forever. Episode tag for S02e16.

586 words | rating: PG


Every time we say goodbye, it gets harder and harder to let you go.

I want to tell her that. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but my pride stops me every time. Or fear. Fear of being rejected. Fear of being accepted. Fear of losing a part of me. I prefer the pride theory—it doesn’t sound as pathetic.

This goodbye just might kill me, though. My heart races when I realize she’s serious about leaving. Is she insane? Maybe there’s a tentative peace with the Grounders, but there are other dangers out there. And who knows how long the Grounders will honor the truce. Or if they all will. A lot of them dislike Clarke with a passion. She tends to have that effect on people. You either hate her or love her.

I know. Because I really hate the way her mouth keeps repeating, “I’m so sorry,” over and over. And I hate how defeated she looks. How defeated she makes me feel when she looks at me with those haunted eyes. I hate her for making me hurt this damn much.

“Clarke-”

She cuts me off, as she did the other four times I tried to talk some sense into her. “I just can’t, Bellamy. You have to understand.”

I’m trying. I really am, but panic is setting in and overriding whatever part of my brain is left for empathy. It’s selfish of me to want her to stay just for me, but I’m damn near close to begging her. The thought of her out in the forest alone scares me a lot more than losing my pride, but I bite my tongue and hold my breath.

My heart pounds in my head. I wonder how it got up there when it’s supposed to be in my chest. There’s probably no room left because I still haven’t let out that breath. She looks sadly over her shoulder at the camp. We worked so hard to get this started, I want to tell her. You can’t go now. Not yet. Not without me.

I’m ready to offer to go with her, but she catches me off guard when she leans up and kisses me softly on the cheek. It’s not my pride that keeps my mouth shut this time, but unbridled fear. Because I don’t know what that kiss means. I do know it’s not enough. The only thing keeping me from throwing her over my shoulder and dragging her back to camp is the fact that she’s carrying a knife and could carve my still-beating heart from my chest if she wanted.

That, and my unyielding respect for her. She walks away from me as I’m forced to swallow another breath, to keep pushing air in and out when it feels like the world is crushing me. She’s really doing it. And I’m letting her. And I think it might kill me, but what choice do I have?

If I told her the truth—that I needed her, that I didn’t think I could get through a day without her—would she change her mind? I almost died for her. I don’t ask, though, because it would hurt too much if she left anyway.

Maybe the next goodbye will be easier. If there is one. Because as I watch her disappear into the treeline, I vow there will never be a “next time” because I won’t let her go alone. Next time she won’t get rid of me as easily.

The 100 (tv) fic: Every Time I Turn Around

turnaroundSince she came back, Clarke is always there whenever Bellamy turns around, even when he doesn’t know he needs her. Bellamy’s thoughts during his emotional conversation with Clarke in 3.13.

272 words | rating: PG


I don’t know how long I’ve stood out here, listening to the softly lapping waves. The sun’s gone down so it’s been a while. When I hear the crunching of rocks, I know it can only be one person. Octavia isn’t talking to me and Jasper would never come out here for a heart-to-heart so that leaves Clarke. I don’t need her sympathy right now. Or the way she can crawl under my skin and get right into my soul. I hate it. I want to hate her. To hate the world right now. But the only thing I hate is myself.

I last about five seconds before I confess every sin in my heart. I don’t know what it is about her. She doesn’t even have to say anything and I’m bearing my soul to her. And I’m crying. Goddammit. I wipe away the tears and try to look anywhere but at her, but her face keeps drawing me back—the gentleness of her eyes, the sadness in her lips.

She wants to know if I’ll ever forgive myself. I don’t see how I can. I remember sitting under that tree with her a lifetime ago. I thought I was a monster then, but that was nothing compared to this. My mother wouldn’t even recognize me. But Clarke always sees me. Even in the dark.

When she reaches for me, I can’t think of anything that I deserve less, and nothing I want more than to feel her arms around me. I don’t know how she forgives me, but maybe if she can do it, so can I. Maybe. Some day.

The 100 fic: Worn Around the Edges

worn

Bellamy tries to be the friend that Clarke needs while she deals with what happened in The City of Light even if it tears apart his heart.

3013 words | rating: PG


“So,” Bellamy says, leaning on the wall next to Clarke. It’s late; everyone not on watch is asleep. Of course Clarke is up. He’s not sure she sleeps anymore. Day or night, whenever he’s on patrol, she’s wandering around.

“So.” She pushes her hands into the pockets of her jacket. He hadn’t noticed her trading in her Grounder leathers for standard Ark attire. Hadn’t realized how much he missed the familiar look until now.

He mimics her pose—hands in his jacket pockets. She lets out a soft sigh; he’s not sure if it’s just relieving stress or from agitation. He sighs in return. She leans her head back against the cool metal; he leans his head back. Finally she looks up at him, eyes narrowed.

Read more…

The 100 (TV) fic: I Found a Girl

hug_foundagirlI Found a Girl
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
The 100 (TV)
Bellamy/Clarke
495 words
rating: PG

Bellamy’s been walking all night, carrying the weight of the world and the lone survivor of Factory Station. His mission to find Clarke has failed miserably. And another member of the group died on his watch. He’s not looking forward to this homecoming, but Camp Jaha has a surprise waiting for him.

My take on the reunion scene in episode 2.05: Human Trials. I fudged the details just a little—call it poetic license. (Title: I Found a Girl by Jan and Dean.)

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.


I hurt. Everywhere—inside and out. My arms ache, my feet are blistered, and my soul is splintered. We hobble into Camp Jaha, ragged with exhaustion. Abby runs up, and I try not to look as defeated as I feel. I’m not sure I can take her disappointment on top of my own.

I didn’t find Clarke.

But Abby barely glances at me—her concern concentrated on the girl I’m practically carrying. She listens to my pathetic report then guides Mel and Monroe away. Not a single question about Clarke.

I find out why a second later when Clarke launches herself at me before I can even process the sight of her. She’s here. In camp. In my arms. And I’m standing here like an idiot as she cries into my shoulder. I don’t know what this means, but I do know the weight inside me lifts. Suddenly I can breathe.

I throw my arms around her, holding tight. I’m afraid to let go because this might just all be a dream. I bury my face in the crook of her neck. She smells like sweat and dirt and the antiseptic used to clean her wounds. I fight back burning tears. Eventually her grip eases, and I have to let go.

Her eyes search my face. I wonder what she finds there. I take the chance to blatantly stare back. She looks horrible—her face a patchwork of cuts and bruises, blood and grime. If I could take away her pain, I would. Not that she’d ever let me.

She sniffles; I sniffle. She smiles; I smile. Is her heart racing like mine? She steps away to hug Octavia. My sister eyes me with the kind of look that always puts me on guard. Her smirk says, “I know your secret.”

I swallow hard. I have no problem admitting that I care about Clarke. We’ve been through too much together to deny that, but anything more seems dangerous. Love makes you do stupid things. Like take your illegal sister into public knowing your mother will be floated if anyone found out. Love weakens you. It opens whole new paths of pain. Of course, none of that changes the warm tickle in my chest when she’s around.

Clarke looks between Octavia and me, her smile fading. “Where’s Finn?”

It feels like an eternity before I can pull myself together and not sound like she shattered me into a thousand pieces with two words. I take a deep breath, rebuilding protective walls, then catch her gaze. “Looking for you.”

Her lips scowl at me, but her eyes are a million miles away, already searching for Finn. She’ll leave as soon as she can, and she won’t have to ask if I’ll go with because we both know I will. I’d follow her to the ends of the Earth. Even to look for the guy she’s in love with. At least then I’ll know where to find her.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic: All I Want for Christmas is You

buffyspikeAll I Want for Christmas is You
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Buffy/Spike
1322 words
rating: PG
WARNINGS:

Set in season six. Buffy’s back from the dead and still having a hard time dealing with life; Christmas is almost more than she can handle. While her friends take a break from the chaos that is their lives, Buffy sneaks out, only to find Spike doing his stalker routine. But things aren’t always as bad as they seem, and neither is Spike.

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.


The door clicked softly behind Buffy. She pulled her sweater tighter around her as she sat on the back steps. Her breath hung in the cool December air. From inside, she could hear her friends singing carols, buzzed on too much spiked eggnog. She leaned her head into her hands; everything was so hard.

After a moment, she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “What do you want, Spike?”

Spike chuckled. “You always seem to know where I am, love.”

“I could smell the smoke.” Read more…

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