I would just like to wish the divine @bending-sickle the

Happiest

Of

Birthdays!

lol. Oh jeez, okay... oh! This is my The 100 canon universe soulmate AU. I wrote a lot of this one, and I was pretty pleased with it, which is why it’s still on my WIP list. A long snippet, just because.

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He's still not totally convinced that Lincoln isn't planning to carry Octavia off, but he finally agrees to release him because Octavia insists that it's her risk to take, that she doesn't care, that she trusts this Grounder she barely even knows—and, honestly, a part of him wishes that Lincoln would carry her off and save him a whole heap of trouble. Not being responsible for his sister: what a concept.

But Lincoln stays. He doesn't run back to the Grounders, and he doesn't massacre them all single-handedly. He might be scoping them out, but honestly, Bellamy doesn't have much illusion about the strength and complexity of their fortifications. If Lincoln was watching them from the trees, he probably knows everything that's worth knowing by now. Which means he's staying for Octavia.

So Bellamy is trying to bond with him, god help them both.

"She's my... I don't know what you call it." Then Lincoln says something that sounds like gibberish to Bellamy's untrained ears. Soulmate marks started appearing during the first years on the Ark, so there's no shared origin word.

"Say it again?"

Lincoln sounds it out slowly. "Tom... bom... houmon. Tombom, like heart." He pats his chest, where Octavia's name hides under his shirt. "Houmon, like... people united with promises?"

"Spouse," Bellamy translates. Lincoln speaks fluent English, but on Earth it's a warrior's tongue; some words don't get used as often.

Lincoln nods. "Spouse, yes. Tombom-houmon."

"Tombom-houmon." It's a pleasant word. Bouncy. "We say soulmate."

"Soulmate." Lincoln turns the word over, thoughtfully. "It's easier to say," he concedes, eventually. Bellamy's lips twitch. "Have you met yours?"

He doesn't know what makes him pause. Lincoln should probably be the last person he'd trust with his secrets. But there's something about this quiet, thoughtful Grounder—no, this quiet, thoughtful man, he corrects himself—that he instinctively trusts. And if this is Octavia's soulmate, he needs to start somewhere.

"Octavia doesn't know," he begins, heart tripping nervously. "I always told her I didn't get a name. On the Ark, it was—I didn't think it would be fair."

Lincoln just looks at him.

"I know I've got to tell her the truth, but I just... I need time, okay? You can't tell her."

Lincoln considers this. "You will tell her?"

Bellamy sighs. "Soon," he finds himself promising.

Lincoln nods. "Then I'll keep your secret."

Bellamy stares the other man in the eyes. Lincoln looks back steadily, but honestly, he doesn't even need to do that: somehow, Bellamy already trusts him with this. He nods his thanks.

Then he lets his control slip, allowing his eyes drift where they always seem to want to go: to wherever Clarke is located. At the moment she's just across the camp from them, in their direct eye-line, going through the stores with Monty to head off any further incidents with hallucinogenic flora. But he always knows where she is, can always find her in a crowd, unerringly. Like his body just knows.

When he turns back to Lincoln, he doesn't need to say anything. "I see," says Lincoln. And Bellamy is pretty sure that he does see, too—that meeting his soulmate wasn't some defining romantic moment in Bellamy's life, that he can't just walk up to her and stake a claim or whatever, that it's hard and complicated, with precious little likelihood of a happy ending. That whatever happens, it's going to bring him trouble.

It's such a fucking relief to tell someone at last. He rests his elbows on his knees and lets his head slump between his shoulders for a moment, just breathing.

"You're well matched."

Bellamy's head snaps up so fast he's going to hurt himself. "What?"

Lincoln just looks at him. "You and Clarke. Don't you think?"

"Uh, no."

Lincoln—who is rapidly on his way to being the second biggest pain in Bellamy's ass—raises his eyebrows. "You're both strong. Wily. Mistrustful. Ruthless."

Bellamy winces, but Lincoln is saying these things as though they're compliments.

"You don't hesitate to do what must be done to protect your people."

"I hesitate," objects Bellamy, not particularly appreciating this assessment.

Lincoln ponders it, and then tips his head. "And yet, in the end, you'll still do it. You were both born to lead your people."

Bellamy scoffs slightly at this. "I was born about as far as you can get from leadership. I took it down here because I had to, to protect my sister."

Lincoln nods, as if he understands. "I see. And if not for her, you would willingly have followed someone else."

"Well..."

"That one, perhaps." He points out Miller. "Or her." Fox. "Or him." Jasper.

Bellamy's entire soul revolts at the idea, and it shows on his face, apparently, because Lincoln looks smug. "Not just anyone," he mutters. His eyes light on Clarke again.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," says Lincoln. "Whatever traits you do or don't share, she's your soulmate. You fit together. You are made for each other."

He blinks at Lincoln in shock. "What? No we're not."

"That's what this means," says Lincoln, gesturing to where his soulmark rests. "Do your people not understand this?"

"No, we—we do," he croaks. "But that's—Clarke and I aren't—it's not like that with us."

"Yes it is," says Lincoln, inexorably. "It is like that for all soulmates, whether or not they wish to acknowledge it."

He ducks his head and stares at the floor.

"You don't really think you can ignore it, do you?"

But Bellamy doesn't answer, because he's in the middle of an unwelcome epiphany. "Fuuuuuuuck," he mutters, dropping his face into his hands. Lincoln chooses now to fall silent, leaving Bellamy with his churning thoughts. It's not just the way he's drawn to Clarke—he's given up pretending that feeling doesn't exist. It's the sudden realisation that he wants this—he wants her. He doesn't want to fight this attraction, this sense of connection with her. He wants it to be real, for him to be part of her life. He wants to know that this isn't some fluke or the result of necessity, that it's not going to end as soon as the rest of the Ark comes down. He wants... he wants everything.

So now here he is, trying to go to pieces quietly because he's in the middle of camp, in the middle of the day, and he doesn't need a fucking audience for this.

"Ah," says Lincoln, catching on.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Lincoln pats his shoulder awkwardly. He seems to have been knocked off balance at last, and Bellamy would find some satisfaction in that, under any other circumstances.

They sit quietly, and Bellamy tries to get himself under control, and not be so obviously in crisis.

"How?" says Lincoln, at last. Bellamy glances at him, and the other man gestures helplessly. "How did you not know?" He sounds baffled.

"It's less than three weeks since we first met," says Bellamy. "And most of that time we've been busy trying not to die."

Lincoln winces, and looks away. "Sorry," he says.

Bellamy huffs a quiet laugh, staring down at his boots again. All this bloodshed, and Lincoln is sorry that it messed with his love life? Abruptly, he remembers Roma, and loses any inclination to find any of this amusing. "Yeah, well."

When he looks up, Lincoln is staring across the camp at Clarke. She's laughing with Monty, and Jasper has come over to join them, and Lincoln looks... conflicted. He's making connections, Bellamy realises. They're becoming people in his eyes. He was already protecting Octavia, but now there's Octavia's brother, and Octavia's brother's soulmate, and all their friends...

In a way, he can understand Lincoln's position. Now he's getting to know Lincoln, the Grounders don't feel so distant and unknowable, so threatening. Well, okay, still pretty threatening, he thinks, remembering how fucking built the guy sitting next to him is, how hard he was to take down. But he also remembers Lincoln's face when he looked at Octavia, and as hard as he fights it, how much he hates that this strange and terrifyingly competent Grounder is his baby sister's soulmate (why couldn't it have been Atom? He could control Atom), he still—with the greatest reluctance—understands how he felt in that moment.

He looks across the camp at Clarke, just as she rolls her eyes and smacks Jasper with the back of her hand, sending him packing with a sharp word. Jasper and Monty exchange their dumb handshake thing, and Clarke turns back to the table, hiding a fond smile. And Bellamy feels his heart clench.

4. What is the longest your hair has ever been?

Past my bum. My hair cycle is to grow it to the longest aka end of back or pass it, and then cut it super short and boyish and then grow it again. I’m in my short hair period now and been enjoyed it so far. I think I will keep my hair short for the time being.

12. What foreign country would you most like to visit and why? 

Mongolia. I started to take interest in it after watching the documentary Babies and it’s been on the top of my list for quite a long time already. But don’t know when I can go there. 

71. Have you ever broken any bones?

Oh god. Hang in there, buddy /o/

*holds you*

\o/ and *\o/* good luck!