jennickels: (gg: fish)

The machine is finished. It works just as Agatha predicted. But not everything goes according to plan. Now Gil has to make a difficult decision. Too bad Tarvek is thinking the same thing. Written for Day three of Girl Genius Week 2018.
1100 words | [PG]



Gil stumbled back as their creation came to life. It chugged and whistled while it gained momentum, gears spinning and parts clanking in a growing cacophony.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Tarvek shouted over the noise, his voice shriller than usual.

“I-” Gil joined Tarvek a few feet from the machine. “I have no idea.” The contraption vibrated violently, raining dust and debris from the ceiling as the tremors grew. Gil feared it might tear itself apart and take half the castle with it. What have we even done?

Tarvek said something Gil couldn’t hear—alarm etched all over his face. Gil shook his head in confusion.

Then it all stopped. The silence was deafening. They exchanged worrying looks before Gil inched forward.

“What are you doing?” Tarvek screeched, grabbing at Gil’s arm.

“Something’s-”

The rest of his statement was lost to the boom of an explosion. The blast threw them across the room. Gil skid along the rough, stone floor, landing in a heap with Tarvek. He groaned as they untangled battered limbs.

“You did it!” Tarvek grinned, adjusting his glasses.

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jennickels: (100: bellamy/clarke)

When Bellamy and Clarke get stuck in the mud, it's finally time to have a conversation that's been brewing far too long.
2585 words | PG-13



Bellamy’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He leaned forward, scowling at the pounding rain. The windshield wipers couldn’t keep up, making it almost impossible to see. Next to him, Clarke stared out her window like she didn’t have a care in the world. This was her fault. He told her coming out here was a mistake. They should have waited until the clouds passed. But she insisted they needed to go now. So here he was, driving through a freaking monsoon. Because Clarke always got what Clarke wanted.

“We need to stop,” he said, not looking at her.

“What? No, we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not going to make it in one piece in this storm. I can’t see where I’m going.”

She craned her neck to see out the front window. “Just stay on the road.”

“What road?” His voice raised an octave. “There’s no road, Clarke. Just mud.”

“We can’t go back. We’re so close.”

Bellamy ground his teeth. “I didn’t say go back. I said we need to stop and wait out the storm.”

She glared out her window, arms crossed defensively over her chest. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was pouting. She was obviously pissed.

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jennickels: (100: bellamy/clarke)



An accident takes something from Bellamy that he can never get back, but he has Clarke to get him through.

1597 words | [PG]



It hurts. Everywhere. Bellamy’s vision blurs. Sound is muffled by the fog in his head. He tries to roll, but it sends a stab of pain across his chest.

Ribs broken then.

He moans, getting the attention of whoever is with him.

“Don’t try to move.”

“Clarke?” he croaks. “What-”

Her hands press his shoulders down gently, but he’s too weak to fight her anyway. “Just stay calm and don’t move.”

She’s using her stern doctor voice. It’s a step away from her I’m-going-to-shoot-you-in-the-head-if-you-don’t-listen voice. He rests his head back as everything spins.

“You’re doing great,” she says—softly this time. “Real good.”

He’s so confused. “Is that a surprise?”

She blinks at him. “Do you remember what happened?”

He searches his memory for something. Anything. It’s all blank. He shakes his head slightly, sending waves of pain down his neck. “What happened?”

“There was an explosion.” She leans over him so he can see her face without moving. “You were hurt by the flying debris.”

“I don’t remember-”

“That’s probably a good thing.”

Now she’s scaring him. “Clarke-”

“Just stay still.”

“Why?”

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jennickels: (rvb: i like me)



607 words | [PG-13]

Carolina and Tex get left behind after a mission gone wrong.



They never come back from their last mission.

North and South. Maine and Wash. Connie and York.

Just gone.

Now the last search team is missing. Florida and Wyoming went out two days ago. They should have been back by now.

Carolina paces the length of the landing bay, biting her nails—a nervous habit she thought she kicked in high school. The rest of the crew is on edge and give her a wide berth, but she hears them murmuring about it. Them. Her. All of it. She wants to scream at them but bites her tongue.

The door to the landing bay flies open, startling her just as the klaxons start blaring, red lights flashing. Tex looks around, spotting her. “They’re coming in hot,” she shouts.

The crew scramble out of the way as a Pelican careens wildly towards the ship. Carolina is frozen in shock until Tex knocks her to the side. The transport hits the deck hard, screeching to a stop, feet from the wall where Carolina had been standing moments earlier.

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