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Fun with Writing

For the longest time, my fanfic stuck pretty close to canon. Of course, I smoosh my favorite ship together, but I tried to keep it believable and as close to canon as I could get (so no Jack and Sam riding off into the sunset together).

But lately, I’ve been having a lot of fun writing AUs and pre-canon stuff. I especially like to go back in time and write stories about Bellamy and Octavia when they were kids.

Or in the case of what I was working on last night, alternative canon where they never went to the ground.

This is part of my Camp NaNo April group of stories. From day two (redo). The main plot is Bellamy goes back in time and gets to do over all of his mistakes. Starting with not getting Octavia arrested. At this point, it’s been a week since he changed history.


As soon as he walked in the door, Octavia was all over him.

“Where have you been?”

“I was out. What’s your problem?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You were gone all day.”

“So? Where’s mom?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He tossed his jacket onto the table.

“She left a few hours ago. Didn’t say where she was going. I was worried, Bell.” She hugged herself tighter and looked near tears.

He pulled her into a hug. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he whispered into her hair. “I just needed to blow off steam before I said something I’d really regret.”

She scoffed. “More than before.”

He didn’t answer that. Instead, he slid her hair behind her ears and cupped her face. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

She blinked away unshed tears and cocked her head. “Liar.”

Bellamy snorted and she swatted his hands away. He reached into his pocket and tossed her a ration bar. “Here. Don’t say I never get you anything.”

She rolled her eyes but ripped it open. He looked down at the other one in his hand. He was starving, but he didn’t think he deserved it after the last couple days–blowing up at people, taking off, worrying Octavia, making his mom mad. He left it on the table and laid down. Octavia came over a moment later and sat at the foot of the bed, drawing her legs up.

“So where were you?” she asked around a bite of food.

He closed his eyes and threw his arm over his face. “Nowhere special,” he said with a yawn.

“Yeah, well you smell like a still.”

He glanced at her from under his arm. “How would you know?”

She shrugged. Bellamy shook his head and went back to covering his eyes. “I was at a party.”

“Really?” This seemed to interest Octavia. He was constantly amazed that she could put aside her loneliness and isolation and be excited when he talked about freedom she would never have.

“It wasn’t that great. Just a bunch of people getting drunk and dancing inappropriately.”

Octavia laughed. “Sounds like a fairytale. Who did you go with?”

He licked his lips, realizing a beat too late that he’d waited too long before saying, “no one.” He could almost hear Octavia’s raised eyebrow.

“I hope No One was worth it. Is she pretty?”

He reached back and grabbed his pillow, tossing it in her direction. She batted it away then spread out next to him on her stomach, forcing him to move over. She continued to nibble on the ration bar. His stomach growled. She ignored him for a bit then gave him a look, still waiting for an answer to her question.

He sighed and covered his eyes again so he didn’t have to look at her. “Pretty, yes. Worth it–not really.”

“Wow. She sounds amazing. When do I get to meet her?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a sardonic sense of humor.”

“Just my brother, but he’s an ass so I don’t listen to him.”

He didn’t have another pillow so he jabbed a finger into her ribs. “Yeah, well my sister’s a brat.”

She squealed and tried to scramble off the bed, but he caught her around the waist. She struggled against him but he outweighed her by at least eighty pounds.

“Get off,” she said through giggles as he continued to tickle her. “Stop.”

He dropped his hand but didn’t let her go.

“You suck,” she said.

“No, I win,” he told her, snatching the rest of the ration bar out of her hand.

She spun on him as he leaned back, letting her go. “Hey, that’s mine.”

“Really? Cause it’s in my hand and possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

“Bellamy-”

He gave her a crooked smile then popped it into his mouth. She glared then suddenly jumped on him. He was caught off guard by a knee to his stomach and nearly choked on the dry bar. Octavia grabbed the pillow and started smacking him with it. He tried to snatch it from her, but she was moving to quick which ground her knee into his ribs. It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop laughing and was still half-choking on the food.


This story is full of so many of these scenes. Of course, things took a turn for the worse after this because I can never let them be happy for too long.

And this is what we call
procrastination

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The 100 fic: Unstoppable

unstoppable

[Octavia]
Octavia doesn’t need anyone to tell her who she is–she already knows.
523 words | rating: PG-13


I am a warrior. I am powerful. I am unstoppable. They see a scared little girl. Hah! They aren’t going to live long enough to understand their mistake.

Octavia dives into the battle, sword swinging. She takes out the first grounder with a foot to the knee. He collapses in a heap, eyes wide with shock before she slits his throat with the knife in her other hand. Hot blood sprays her face, but she does nothing to wipe it away.

I am a warrior.

She spins at the sound of someone approaching, catching the next grounder off guard with a sword to his gut. She makes sure to keep eye contact as he goes down.

Let him know my power.

She takes out two more with slashes to their chests and abdomens. Her arms are growing weary already, but the battle rages on. She will not falter. She drops to her knees as another grounder charges her. She slams her shoulder into him and flips him. She misses with her knife, allowing the much larger man to roll to his feet. He laughs.

They think I’m weak because I’m small. Because I’m a girl. Because I’m Skaikru.

She fakes a little jab with the knife to test his reflexes. He smacks her sword away with his own, a smug look on his face. When he lunges, she’s ready. She does a spin move as she drops, taking his leg out from under him. He stumbles, landing awkwardly on one knee but doesn’t go down completely. Not a problem for Octavia. She easily hops to her feet and kicks him in the backside. He falls face first onto the ground.

What they don’t know is that I’m not Skaikru. And I’m not a grounder. I’m Octavia-fucking-Blake. And they are the ones who should be afraid.

The grounder turns with a growl and runs at her full speed. Octavia takes a lancing blow to her side but manages to dart away. Before the grounder can recover, she drives her sword deep into his back. She’s done playing games. She kicks the dead man free of her sword, swinging it to dislodge his blood then looks for her next target.

She’s not alone in this battle. The staccato pops of gunfire mix with clanking swords. The grunts and screams echo in the valley. Indra isn’t far away, her blade moving so fast, it’s hard to track. Clarke is holding her own with a knife—Miller covering her. And somewhere, Bellamy is picking off anyone he can that gets too close to them.

She ignores all of that as the next grounder moves in. He stops in front of her, head cocked. Octavia swings her sword again then stands in the ready position. “Bring it, asshole.”

I am powerful.

The grounder charges at the same time Octavia runs at him. At the last second, she drops into a slide. Right between his legs. He looks around in surprise and spins just in time to get a knife to his chest.

She turns her face to the sky and howls. “I am a warrior!”

And I am unstoppable.

The 100 (tv) fanfic: Always & Forever

always[Bellamy & Octavia]
Just a little snapshot of a cold night on the Ark for young Bellamy and Octavia.
673 words | rating: G


Bellamy was half asleep when a small hand rocked his shoulder.

“Bell?” Octavia said softly.

“Hmm?” He didn’t bother to open his eyes.

She didn’t say anything.

He counted to ten in his head. He had a test in the morning in physics, and he needed a good grade or he’d be stuck cleaning toilets the rest of his life. “What do you want, Octavia?” he mumbled.

“I’m cold.”

“So?”

She made an exaggerated shiver. He popped one eye open to look at his ten-year-old sister. She wore only her nightgown which was just one of his extra shirts that was way too big on her. Captain Wigglebottom, her stuffed bunny, was tucked tight to her chest. She shifted from foot to foot as if to prove how cold the ground was.

“Bellamy-”

He propped himself up on his arm. “What?”

“It’s cold in here.”

“It is. You should put on some warmer clothes.”

She crossed her arms, pouting. “I only have one outfit and Mom is washing it.”

His face flushed. “Oh.” He glanced over to the empty bed Octavia usually shared with their mom. She’d gotten into the habit of disappearing at night. Bellamy didn’t ask a lot of questions because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers.

Octavia bit her lip, waiting. Part of him wanted to tell her to get lost. She had her own blanket, and he needed to get some sleep. But she looked at him with big, watery eyes and a quivering lip. Whenever he got frustrated with her, he tried to remember that she had no one else. Her entire existence was this room. Him and their mom—that’s all she knew. As socially awkward as Bellamy was thanks to his circumstances, at least he could say he had friends. He’d even had a girlfriend or two. Octavia had nobody. And never would. He was her only friend.

He sighed then scooted over, lifting the blanket. She dove in next to him and curled up to his warm body. He yelped when her ice-cold feet touched his legs as she squirmed around, looking for a comfortable position. Sliding his arm under her neck, Bellamy pulled her close to keep her still as much as to warm her. Soon her breathing evened out, and he could tell she was falling asleep.

Bellamy laid back and stared up at the ceiling of his bunk—the little seven by three foot space he could call his own. The bed wasn’t made for two, and even with Octavia’s tiny frame, it was a tight fit. But he didn’t complain.

For one, he was a lot warmer with her in the bed with him. And two, he had to admit he kind of liked having her close. They shared a bed when they were little until around the time he turned twelve, and well, his body started changing. He demanded privacy. At six, she didn’t understand why he kicked her from the bed. Now he regretted it because he always slept better with her near. That way he knew she was safe.

He covered his eyes with his free arm and tried to fall back asleep.

“Bellamy?” Octavia mumbled into his chest.

“What?”

“You’re the best.”

He smiled at the ceiling. “No, you’re the best. Just next time, don’t leave your feet outside of your blanket until they go numb before coming over here. You’re not fooling anyone.” He jabbed a finger into her ribs. She giggled and tried to touch his leg again.

“Okay, time to go to sleep,” he said with a yawn. “Or you’re going back to your own bed.”

“Would you do that?” Her voice sounded tiny.

Bellamy stared at her for a long time. He couldn’t believe she thought he was serious? Octavia looked back at him, eyes wide, her lip caught between her teeth. He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her softly on the forehead. “No. I’ll always let you stay, cold feet and all. Always, O.”

And he meant it.

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.

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