Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 27, 2015 1:36:22 GMT
Bellamy explained why he had gone out this morning. It made sense to her. That was like Bellamy to get food, to hope she would eat and allow herself not to suffer a bit, while she so clearly deserved it. He was nurturing after all, even though he might not want to admit to it. He wanted to care for the people he cared for. How would Clarke, how could Clarke make it stop? He was not one to give up on people, no matter how much they deserved exactly that. He’d save her from whatever attack she would be under, if it came to it. Clarke slowly sat up, her eyes remaining on him, almost curiously. Should she explain things to him? And if so how? How could she explain how she felt? How the thought of eating made her feel nauseous? Even though she didn’t want to speak she knew she had to.
“I… it’s okay.” She replied, voice shaky, as if she hadn’t used it in days. Maybe it was because she was still weak or her mind would not let her use her voice like she was used to. Whatever it was, it was her status quo now. She would have to deal with it. Clarke looked down on her arm. Was it really okay? Physically, yes. But with her mental state, it was dangerous right now, for her own life, not that she wanted to save it. “I feel sick.” She explained. While part of her didn’t want to eat, it was actually true. She felt sick. The thought of eating made her feel that way, though Clarke consciously knew it was just her mind, it had quite the physical effects on her. Just as the blonde looked up, she noticed a shadow in the corner, as if someone was standing there, a shadowy presence that refused to come into focus for her. “Who’s there?”
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 25, 2015 23:01:57 GMT
“It’s perfectly safe for us.” Clarke commented amused as she walked with Bellamy to the new medical station. She was slower, of course, waddling along, but somehow it didn’t feel slow or sluggish today, not with what lay ahead of them. They would finally see their baby for the first time. They would finally see the child they created move or sleep inside of her, but most importantly they would hear their childs heart beat for the first time. It was something Clarke anticipated from the first moment she knew of the babies existence inside her, to feel the childs heartbeat for the first time, the small fluttering beneath her fingertips, when she would hold it for the first time, now she would get to hear it much earlier. In all honesty she was eager for this, almost giddy, yet she found herself completely incapable of letting go of Bellamy, even as they arrived and she had to lay down. The smile of Jackson couldn’t get any brighter even if he tried, neither could Clarkes. She all but grinned at Bellamy. Not even the coolness of the gel bothered her. It wasn’t like it was on the ark. The bed she lay on was actually comfortable, the entire room was more comfortable than the sterile clinic on the Ark. If this was where she was to give birth, she would be okay with it all, she hoped.
Finally the sound of a fast little heartbeat filled the tent. For Clarke all sound but this one was drowned out. This tiny and precious heartbeat was the evidence that yes, the small life inside her was alive and well. This was their childs heartbeat and they heard it for the very first time. In those moments Clarke, like Jackson and Abby focused on the monitor. No words were spoken anymore. They focused on the heartbeat and the pictures. Clarke could make out tiny fingers first. That’s when her mother started to speak. “That’s the hand – the arm. There we go, the little face. Oh it’s gorgeous.” It was adorable and perfect. Clarke could barely make out the face, the closed eyes, the moving lips, the hand being raised to the babies face, as if it was waving to them. Her mother slowly moved over her stomach, now again without a comment. The baby seemed to be so very healthy, Clarke could barely believe everything she saw. Finally her mother winked at her. She gave the instrument to her daughter, told her she could do the rest by herself and left, obviously wanting to leave her and Bellamy alone for when Clarke revealed their babies gender to him. She had seen it. There was no doubt anymore. She felt so full of love in that moment, love and happiness, that only got highlighted when she heard a squeal coming from outside, obviously Abby letting out her feelings at finding out there would be another woman in the Griffin family soon , though she would carry a different last name.
“Sooo… I hope you’re ready to be completely outnumbered.” Clarke began. Her eyes started to really burn with unshed tears.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 25, 2015 22:33:05 GMT
Desperation and love were a powerful weapon, Clarke had to learn that the hardest way possible. As she watched the monitor, of Cage torturing those she loved, those she cared for more than anything, she felt as if someone was holding her, putting her on fire, torturing her mind and body at once. What choice did she have? She threatened Dante, yet it was to no avail, she shot him, trying to make Cage understand, but nothing worked on him. He still wanted to go through with it. Even her last real weapon would be misplaced, Clarke felt. Kane had argued with him as well, had tried to make him understand that they could have it willingly, slowly, but he refused. He wanted to kill them. He really wanted to kill them. There was no choice for her anymore.
The numbness set in the moment she watched the people die. Their skins broke open as radiation slowly killed even children. It was done. Their people were safe. Now all they had to do was find them somehow. All of them, which shouldn’t be too hard. Clarkes steps echoed in the now empty hallways. She passed the room with the bodies of the people of Mount Weather, though she couldn’t bring herself to care about them at all. Not right now. They had given them a chance, yet they didn’t take it. Clarke knew she’d break down sooner or later, but she had her people to find. She had people to take back home, some were more directly her responsibility than others.
Clarke almost would have walked right passed the room, had it not been for Octavias voice. Thinking she might be in trouble, since the blonde could not make out a word she said, she went in, ready to defend the former friends, but not ready for this.
She stopped as soon as she realized what she saw before her. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. She… tried so hard. God damn it. Everything she did, lately, aside from killing everything in this mountain and even that to an extend had the goal to keep Bellamy alive. But there he was, his skin unnaturally pale, his eyes unseeing and Octavia. If only her heart could catch up with what she saw. It wasn’t possible. He would wake. If she touched his skin, it wouldn’t be cold. She would feel a faint barely- there pulse. There had to be a pulse, but Clarke was frozen on her spot. She couldn’t move, couldn’t allow herself to step closer to Bellamy. “No.” Clarke whispered. Finally, as if her own voice was enough to shake her out of her trance, she walked forward.
Once by their sides the small blonde reached out, pressing her trembling fingers to the cold skin of his neck. Nothing. She moved them, but again nothing. Pulling her hand away, as if it burned her, Clarke shot up again. She backed away from the body and Octavia, still refusing to believe what she was. This was completely and entirely impossible. He had to be alive. This was impossible. Almost in desperation Clarke turned around, where Monty stood, frozen in horror. “Get my mom. Get Jackson. GET HELP NOW!!!!!!” He couldn’t be gone, not Bellamy. This world would make no sense without him in it. “HURRY!” They had to bring him back or save him. This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be allowed to be true.
blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 25, 2015 20:15:43 GMT
Clarke watched Bellamy with their daughter. She loved them both, but with her daughter being sick and in pain her instincts went crazy. Her instincts were to clutch her baby to her, to protect Hope from anything and everything, but Bellamy had her. She knew his instincts were probably similar. He wanted to hold her and protect her from anything. It was a natural instinct for both parents, who loved their daughter dearly, yet at the same time only one of them could hold Hope. Clarke let him. She had carried her inside her for over eight months, almost nine, so it was okay if he wanted to hold her right now. At least that was what she kept telling herself right now, while she so desperately ached to take her child into her own arms. Clarke watched him change their daughter, sitting on the bed, while doing so. She had her hand placed on Hopes belly, all the while gently rubbing circles on it, hoping to soothe her desperate cries.
Clarke followed her boyfriend and their child into the kitchen. While she didn’t want to take this away from him, she felt slightly good that Hope now held her arms out for Clarke, clearly wanting to be held by her mother right now. Clarke immediately took her into her arms and held her close. Now Bell even had his arms free to make tea for their little princess. Clarke still leaned against him, Hopes tiny feet kicking against Bellamys side. “In the upper cupboard.” Clarke explained. “Montys herbs. We should mix some. Uhm… can you tell them apart?” She could not tell if he knew or not. She had been a bit occupied with her pregnancy and then the newborn in the past months. Looking back she had been a shitty person on more than one way, a shitty friend and an even worse girlfriend, but she was a new mother, her life now revolved around her baby. “I bet she will want to go back to you soon, then to me again. She’ll be cranky all day long. It will be a very long day.”
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 24, 2015 23:55:39 GMT
A good part of her had expected them to forget or reject the idea of Abby having a daughter. She expected hatred or pain, both of which she felt for herself as well, inside. She hated herself. She hated the way she had no destination, no way of knowing where to go what to do. She didn’t know herself anymore. Clarkes expression remained empty, easily mistakable for coldness, as she saw Octavia. The way they parted wasn’t exactly on good terms. Clarke had known that meeting her again would not be easy, meeting her alone even less so than in company. There was nothing to justify any of her actions, not to Octavia. Trying hard was not good enough, she wasn’t good enough and hadn’t ever been. Regardless Clarke had expected this to be hard, shattering maybe. Had it not been for the Grounders, she knew she would not have been able to ever return, she wouldn’t be alive to return, even though life was, in her own definition something else, something she didn’t deserve.
The blonde cocked her head to her side as Octavia mentioned her mothers death. While she felt a pang of pain, it was nothing but a faint sharp stinging in the midst of the constant emotional – and sometimes physical – pain she felt almost all day. Sometimes her mind had wandered to Camp Jaha, her desire to return turned into something so very self destructive then as the walk would have most likely been her death then. And then there was the entire matter of Jackson, he knew how to stop infections, even Clarke, someone who had only just started training back then knew. So if her mother was dead, others were, too. And still it didn’t hurt as bad as she thought. Other things hurt more. Living hurt more. “So I take it I’m not welcome back then.” Clarke commented, voice void of emotions still. “I had wanted to come back for good.” To deal with what she had left behind, to make sure they healed while she couldn’t and refused to let herself. She wanted to be among those she knew, she wanted their looks and hatred, which was not what she got with the Grounders. Life was complicated enough as it is. “I know you hate me, Octavia. Will you let me in, or should I leave again, so you won’t have to see me ever again?”
blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 24, 2015 22:17:39 GMT
Clarkes mind was still clearly affected by the fever that had held her in her grip. Maybe it was still there, high enough to make her slightly delirious – if so she didn’t really feel it. It was one of the reasons why she wasn’t sure what the situation was. Maybe she was still delirious and this was all in her head, but it looked real to her. All doubts dissipated the moment she lay eyes on the man. He was faster than Clarkes mind could act right now, holding a bowl to her lips and the back of her head. He ordered her to drink in simple and clear English. They understood their language. Then again should she be surprised? They were in what used to be the United States of America. Survivors could speak English and it appeared they did. It made sense. Clarke thought for a moment. Should she drink? He had her in a dry, warm place, the wounds were clearly treated, though still painful, but since Clarke didn’t know if he had painkillers to begin with. She could endure pain. Everything about the situations told her that he had no bad intentions with the drink, so she drank.
It tasted horribly, bitter, weird, but Clarke pushed through. Despite how it made her gag, she drank it all, though afterwards she put a hand on her mouth to stop herself from throwing up. Convinced that the man intended to help her – and if he didn’t, she was screwed anyway – she wanted to keep it down. Even on the Ark medicine tended to not taste nicely. Breathing slowly, she knew her stomach settled slowly, for now. She would not throw up what he gave him if she took down her hand, which she needed to do in order to talk to the man. For a split second doubt was in her. What if he had poisoned her? Well, she was screwed either way.
“I’m Clarke. You saved me, didn’t you? Do you know… why we’ve been attacked? I – what did we do?” They had to have done something, surely? Why else would they attack and then treat her? Maybe it was getting close to the mountain or any other rule they violated.
@nyko
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 23, 2015 9:59:08 GMT
@nyko
Jasper was dead, probably. He was speared in the chest, probably close to the heart. He could die from that easily and with whoever attacked them still close, there was no way they could just go over. They would make themselves easy targets. The kids ran, they had to. Given the unfamiliar terrain they stumbled over branches, struggling to hold themselves up, especially Clarke. She was no runner, had no real physical strength right now, so she was slightly behind, though not too far from Monty. The sound of an arrow cutting through the forest was entirely unfamiliar to her as well. Pain erupted in her shoulder as the arrow hit his mark. As Clarke fell, being knocked down by the force of the arrow, she saw Monty and Octavia stop, but Finns hand shot out to drag Octavia on. Clarke screamed again as another arrow hit her back. Soon everything went dark around her, though all she knew was that the others got away.
When Clarke came to, she still felt the pain, but she knew she was no longer on the forest floor. As the world came into focus again, she realized she actually lay in something akin to a bed. Was she back on the Ark? Was all of this just a nightmare? A feverish dream? No. The place looked nothing like the Ark. She could see decorations that she couldn’t place. Somewhere herbs were hung to dry, fabric shielded the inside from most of the light from outside, so she could not make out much more. Clarke sat up carefully. “Hello? Where am I? Ouch…” She noticed the pain in her back and shoulder again and her medically trained mind immediately made the connection to the warmth she felt. She was running a fever, probably, or coming down from one. “Anybody here?”
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 21, 2015 0:10:23 GMT
Winter had not been an easy time. It was only due to the Grounders help, that she survived the two months of winter. Otherwise she would have probably not been more than a frozen corpse by now. Luckily she wasn’t, it was not due to her own skills. Clarke found it was time to go home, finally. She gathered everything she had, including new knowledge of plants, antidotes and poisons, furs and weapons as well as new clothing and a new hairstyle. The trek to the Camp had taken up more than an entire days walk. Knowing she was close, Clarke walked into the night, while she usually avoided being out in the dark, due to nocturnal animals running wild usually. It was dangerous out there in the dark.
Clarke was shivering. It was still relatively cool, so she was looking forward to getting to a fire, to sit down and not worry about being killed every five minutes. Finally the impressive arch of the Alpha station came into view, the lights as well. Camp Jaha was so close. The blonde sped up, almost running now. Guards pointed their guns at her as she finally arrived at the gate. Clarke was aware she looked like a Grounder, so she knew she had to identify herself and maybe hope for a friend to come and identify her as who she was.
“I am Clarke Griffin.” She started, one hand raised, the other clinging to her bag. “I am Abigail Griffins daughter. Will you let me in?”
blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 20, 2015 21:18:27 GMT
“Good.” She needed him here. Clarke might have learned to be a mother, she might be analytical right now, but she was panicking, maybe just inwardly. This was her baby, her flesh and blood. She was sick. She was fragile. What if they underestimated the situation and in the end they would lose Hope? She wouldn’t be able to recover from losing her child, Clarke knew as much. She had known it from the moment she discovered her pregnancy and counted back to find out who the father was. From them every single effort in her pregnancy was to keep her baby alive, not even her own life mattered to her. Maybe that was part of why it had been so hard on her or it was just natural, either way, she knew she’d give her life for her child. She’d do anything to make sure she survived. She was their peoples Hope, her Hope. She was everything.
“We can give her tea for now. Medicine is there, but Mum doesn’t think she needs it yet. She might just get over it without medicine, just with tea. And medicine could always have side effects, so just the tea for now. We will see if it’s getting worse, then we might have no choice." Clarke reached for the plushy and blanket, both were eagerly grasped by the sick baby girl. It was familiar, meant comfort, so Clarke knew she’d want to have and hold it. And she might not allow her parents to leave her for long.
“I think we should keep them on. Or change her into something thinner. She’ll sweat. It will be easier to change her into dry clothes than to try off the mattress and blankets all the time. And that way we can monitor how much she sweats as well.” She hoped it wasn’t a mistake, but Clarke went by a hunch here. “I wish I could make it stop. She doesn’t deserve this. She should be happy. She should sit in the living room and play and learn, not have a fever.” She, Clarke, should not be panicking like that.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 20, 2015 20:59:44 GMT
“I was there. I was leading my people into Mount Weather, when your commander took the deal.” Clarke pointed out. She had been there, she had to pick up the pieces of what Lexa had done. Of course she knew the main blame lay on this woman. She was the one to decide, to force Lincoln with them, but they could have easily overpowered her and stood their ground, yet nobody did. They followed her, owing loyalty to her, but neglecting loyalty to their own culture. “We were aware of ‘blood must have blood’ yet you never took the blood they took from your people.” Clarke wanted to remain angry, she wanted to feel just a little longer, but soon enough she deflated. She had been betrayed, she had to do what she did, yet at the same time there was simply nothing that could undo it. She lived with the guilt, but she also lived with the only consolation that she’d ever have: Part of the blame would forever be on Lexa. This blood was on her hands, too. And like them, she could never wash it off. With the memories, Clarkes anger broke, the feelings disappeared into the numbness that had occupied her heart before.
“I know it was not all of your decision. That day more people, innocent people met their death – at my hands. What I know is, that she washed her hands in the blood of those people as well, by turning away from the mountain. Children died, innocents. How does your alliance still hold?” It was now a genuine question. How could the leaders of twelve clans just stand by and watch Lexa break an alliance. Didn’t it make the entire coalition as fragile as what their alliance had been. “Lexa will walk over anyones body to have her way.” Clarke looked at the Grounder. Turning the palms of her hands outwards in surrender, she mentally gave up. She couldn’t win. No matter what she’d say, the Grounders couldn’t undo anything. Maybe it would end the numbness finally. “Go ahead, take me prisoner or do what you have to do.”
Echo
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 20, 2015 18:08:56 GMT
“In the end it might not be my decision.” Clarke pointed out. “What has been done… I doubt there is a way back to them. And out of the Grounders clans… Azgeda is the one I can trust the most at the moment.” Not that she fully trusted anything or anyone at the moment, least of all herself. She had killed too many people, to trust herself and she had seen the depths and horrors in a persons soul, so she knew not to expect too much from people anymore or the worst. “What does it matter which group of people I belong to, blood will always flow and will always be the same shade of red, no matter what.” They were all just human. They had see different roads, they had different experiences, different governments, but in the end, they were all only human, only some had committed worse crimes than others.
“I never compared it to something like that. The air on the Ark was like it. Then again, I guess you could say it was a bit like a coffin in the sky.” It was a coffin for many people these days. Only a small percentage of the people who lived there had survive d coming down to earth and even then people kept dying. She hoped that was steady for the people now, that there was less death. But could they survive winter? “You could say a lot of us were dead up there and only earth revived us. We were going through the motions, never developing and going out of the ordinary was almost impossible or punished with death, so… yeah, I think you might be right. It could be what the dead smell.”
Isa
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 19, 2015 21:46:37 GMT
She didn’t move. Clarke noticed she was alone when she was finally fully awake. Bellamy was gone. Clarke stared at the place he was occupying when she fell asleep. For a long time she just stared at the place, wondering why it hurt so much to know he was gone, before she looked around. He was really nowhere to be seen in her tent. It was a sad tent really, but good for Clarke. It was empty, like herself, nothing left to enjoy, like there was nothing left to live for, for her. Slowly the blonde moved her painful arm, wincing a little. Slowly she rearranged her pillows and her blanket. Clarke had no intention of getting up that day. She wanted to hide away in what she created something like a nest really.
Someone entered the tent. Clarke moved deeper into the pillows, dragging the blanket just a little higher, to hide herself. It was Bellamy. Did he just return? She peaked out almost curiously. Did he think she’d eat or drink? He was wrong there. Clarke had no intention of doing either. But he was back, for whatever reason. She didn’t get him. She didn’t understand so many things. She didn’t deserve kindness and bringing breakfast was kind. At the same time it hurt to even see him and she didn’t even understand why. All Clarke knew it did. And she knew she could not do anything about it, she needed to either be supportive or let go. She was letting go. Of everything and so she didn’t move or speak.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 18, 2015 21:59:28 GMT
Keeping her mind at strictly business, she could focus. But apparently Bellamy disagreed with letting her mind stay in that headspace. She was a left hander, so the right hand stabbed would not hinder her too much. She needed her left hand more. Bellamy still drew attention to the pain in that hand by pulling it to him to wrap it with a piece of cloth. What he did stopped the bleeding thoroughly, so really she had to be grateful for it. He had made it easier and otherwise her blood might have mixed with the blood of Nykos son. “Thank you.” She could not do much more than that. She couldn’t react to his announcement, as that would alert the guards to what he said and it was better if they stayed happily oblivious to it all. She had to focus on Nykos son and then she wanted to know what the fuck happened to get him there and why Octavia and Bellamy were with him. Did one of them shoot him? No. No way. They might be willing to protect their own, but they wouldn’t just shoot someone.
“You can… hold him down, should he come to.” Clarke moved forward now. She examined the kid for what was wrong. The bullet went straight through. Feeling inside him, she could feel clearly how bad it was. It wasn’t as bad as she thought. It missed major organs, the bullet was clean through. Once Nyko was back with the seaweed and water, Clarke turned to Bellamy and Octavia. “We got this.” Meaning her and Nyko. She worked a bit more than the other healer, teaching him what she knew better than him. Once the boy was stitched up and no longer bleeding, Clarke told the guards outside to take him somewhere quiet to monitor him and let him recover. Nyko followed of course. A small click was all that indicated the fact that the two Blakes and Clarke were locked inside her hut now. Clarke didn’t bother cleaning herself up. She pulled a curtain open and plopped herself down on the mattress behind it. It was the only real seating option for her in there, it was the place she spent most time in, sleeping and resting in between being needed and cut and food. The blonde carefully arranged the chain, so it would give her the most freedom she could find.
“What happened? You haven’t told me something. And how are you alive? They said no one survived. They said… they said I’m the only one to survive. And now you’re here. Are you two hurt? What happened with Nykos son?”
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 17, 2015 20:27:39 GMT
General:
1. How long have you role played? 10 years 2. Favorite genre of role play? Fantasy, Sci Fi 3. Favorite fandom to rp? Once Upon A Time / The 100 4. Favorite pairing to rp? Captain Swan, an OC pairing, Duskeeper Swan and Bellarke 5. Favorite rp author's threads to read? A girl named Dana, Sammi and Euphoria 6. Favorite plot ever rped (or one of them)? Baby Liam, a baby rp - now Hope, Time heals all wounds, I can't lose you 7. Short or long threads? Long and plotted 8. Do you read WIPs or wait for threads to finish? I read WIPs 9. What is the longest thread you’ve wrote? It's not finished yet. 10. Favorite trope/element/scenario to rp? Post-Apocalyptic 11. Least favorite trope/element/scenario to rp? Forced Romance and unhealthy Crack Ships 12. What turns you away the most from a rp? Force Shipping and blatant abuse of my muse Angst: 13. Has a rp ever made you cry? YES! BELLAMY YOU ASS! 14. What tropes/elements/scenarios get you the worst? Death and abandonment 15. Do you mind when characters cry? Kinda love it. 16. How do you feel about character death in rp? Love it. 17. Any characters who you can't stand to see in pain? Uhm... nope. I like to put my muses into painful situations and those are those I love the most, so no. I'm good. Hurt them all. 18. Favorite angst plot? Stranded somewhere Kink:19. Do you read kink or does it make you uncomfortable? Reading it, I'm good with it. 20. Do you like PWPs? (this is basically no plot, all kink) I like it with a little bit of plot 21. How and when did you get introduced to smut rp? Any horror stories? *casually points at Bell* 22. Biggest turn-ons in rp? Uhm, I'll tell you when I know 23. Biggest turn-offs in rp? Abuse of ANY kind 24. Do you have any dirty kinks that you’re ashamed of? I know what a Dirty Sanchez and Figging is, I'm no longer ashamed of stuff. 25. Any kinks that you’d love to try in real life? Yup 26. Any kinks that you don’t want to try in real life (but are still hot in a rp)? Nope 27. Rough kink or gentle kink? Rough - at least on here 28. How do you feel about masturbation in rp? It's part of life, so go for it! 29. How do you feel about non-con and dub-con? Under limitations 30. Favorite kink thread you've written? That's one on here and, again, it involves Bellamy AU:31. Do you like AUs? Hell yes 32. Favorite AU tropes? Placing the characters in different historical settings. 33. Least favorite AU tropes? Omega Verse for example 34. Do you like UAs (universe-alterations, when the main universe and characters are the same but one plot point/decision/outcome is altered)? Yep 35. Do you like high school and college AUs? No. Mainly for the reason that it involved research on my part. Roleplaying can be quite ruled by americans, needing you to comply to their systems. Most of my characters would be in the american school system, which is anything but understandable to me. So I avoid it. 36. Do you like crossovers? If so, favorite crossover? The 100 and The Walking Dead. It's kind of a no brainer. Or with iZombie 37. How do you feel about parent!rps/lovechildren? I'm good with them, I guess. 38. How do you feel about genderbending? De-aging? Animalizing? Genderbending can be epic, especially if original gender muse and genderbent muse meet! I'm not a big fan of de-aging, it needs a good plot and I haven't seen too many with that yet. I really don't like Animalizing, unless it's temporary. 39. Favorite AU plot? Close Call Fluff:40. Do you like fluff? I like angst more (I bet you guys already noticed that) 41. Favorite fluffy tropes? Dates and vacation on cute little islands. 42. Least favorite fluffy tropes? Can't think of one yet, actually  43. Do you like fluff on its own or in conjunction with other elements (angst, sex, etc.) I always bring other elements in, if I want it or not. But fluff rarely stays pure fluff with me. 44. How fluffy is too fluffy? Straight through fluff for weeks. Characters have conflict, rps and stories live through conflict most of the time. Too much fluff gets boring eventually. 45. Favorite fluff plot? Babies |
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 17, 2015 20:00:54 GMT
Clarke thought she heard the last notes of a lullaby. She loved those very, very rare moments when Bellamy would do something as intimate as that with their daughter, but unfortunately this time it was about something not as nice as she would have hoped it would be. She hoped her boyfriend would sing for her in a quiet moment where he thought it was just him and Hope and maybe the stars watching them and with them his mother, from whatever afterlife there was, if there was one. Maybe her father watched over them, too. In any case Clarkes mother rushed forward. She didn’t take Hope from Bellamy and Clarke knew exactly why. She had seen her do it on the Ark before. Her looking into Hopes mouth and ears was new, unfamiliar and uncomfortable for Hope, as was taking her temperature. Of course being in familiar arms would make it easier, if only a little. Hope still screamed and cried in discomfort and annoyance, a small fist holding Bellamys shirt very tightly. Abby beckoned Clarke outside with her, as there was next to no chance to talk without yelling over Hopes cries.
Outside, Abby told her what to do, so that she could return to her loves just moments later. They had a plan of attack, that was good. Instead of joining Bellamy and their crying daughter. She went to wet two socks, which she put on their daughter. It quieted her for a moment, confused because of the socks on her now. The baby still whimpered. “It’s like the cloth to the head, but to her feet. It will help bring the fever down. Mum says it’s just her body fighting off some germs, not a full sickness yet. We will have to watch her and keep the fever down.” For a moment Clarke considered telling him he could go about his day as usual, but she saw her daughter in his arms and she knew there was no way she could take her daddy away from her today. And she couldn’t take him from her. And she really wanted him there, too. “Let’s go sit down with her. You’re not going to work today, are you?”
Bellamy Blake
|
|
