#the100fanfic

[zaenight]

CHAPTERS SEVEN THROUGH 15 OF THE DRAGON & HER KNIGHT HAVE BEEN REPUBLISHED☺️☺️

[inmyownlaine]

John Murphy x Reader: Bold and Offended

GIF//

Warnings: Angst, soft smut, cussing

Word Count: 828

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“I don’t understand what the problem is, Murphy,” you groaned aloud, leaves and twigs cracking under the weight of your foot.

“The problem,” Murphy started, popping up alongside you, “is that I’m offended you didn’t ask me.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, nudging him in the process. Murphy reached out for your shoulder as he stumbled slightly. You paused momentarily, allowing him to regain his composure before responding.

“I’m like, the perfect trophy husband.” Murphy held up his fingers as he listed off the qualifying traits. “Hot, dark, brooding. What more could you ask for?”

“Acting skills?” you suggested.

“I am good at acting. I lie all the time! You know that!”

“Lying and acting are two different things, Murph,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“Are they, though?”

This didn’t cause you to stop, but it did force you to think. Acting like you had a boyfriend was definitely lying. You would be forced to sneak around, fabricate stories, and pretend to be in love. You hated to admit it, but he was right.

“There’s a reason I didn’t ask,” you told him. 

“The reason being?” he pressed, now standing in front of you. He held his gun in both hands, pointed diagonally towards the sky. 

“I didn’t think you would want to. At all.”

“That’s why you should ask,” he said sarcastically and slower than usual. You lowered your head, chin pointing to the ground. It was enough to let Murphy know that you were entertained by the conversation and not ashamed of it.

“You hate my ex. Why would you try to help me win him back?”

“Interesting,” Murphy said, a smirk forming on his face. Your insides were churning, but you tried your best to seem relaxed on the outside. The truth of the matter was that Murphy was driving you crazy in the best way imaginable.

“You ever thought about why I didn’t like him?”

You shrugged in response. “Probably something to do with deep seeded trauma and bad timing.”

Murphy took a step towards you. Instinctively, you took a step back. He wasn’t turned off by your recoil and continued to test the boundaries. The mischievous glint in his eye piqued your curiosity, wondering what was going on in that head of his. Before you knew it, he had you backed up against a thick tree. There was nowhere else for you to go as Murphy’s face inched closer to yours.

“I didn’t like him cause he was with you,” he practically growled. The gravel in his voice caused you to inhale sharply. There was no denying now that you were sexually awakened by Murphy’s blunt confession.

“How bold of you to say,” you teased, hoping that you were giving off more confidence than you felt.

“Do you like bold?”

“Yeah,” you told him as he closed the distance between your chests. They were now heavily breathing against each other, hearts beating rapidly between thin shirts. He reached for one of your wrists, which you willingly gave, and raised it above your head. He leaned against you gently, lips grazing your neck.

His teeth tugged at the tender skin. Goosebumps formed on your arms, a shiver traveling down the entirety of your spine. He found his way to your earlobe, nibbling on it lightly before saying, “Here’s what I want you to do.” You nodded, giving him permission to continue. 

“I want you to go back to camp,” he began, fingertips trailing up your forearm, “and tell everyone that you’re going to be with me tonight.”

“Just tonight?” You asked not only for the situation, but for yourself. The way he was behaving right now, one night wouldn’t do.

“Every night. Every day,” he added on. “However you want to put it. Just make sure everyone knows about us.”

You melted in his arms, completely succumbing to his words. He chuckled at your reaction before moving the top of your shirt aside, exposing your bare shoulder. Wet trails covered your body as he placed a soft kiss on the top, moving to your collarbone and then down your sternum.

But just as soon as it began, it abruptly ended. You watched as he lifted his head and hungrily found your lips. His arm wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck, you pulled each other in even tighter than before. Your bodies heaved in and out, swayed from side to side, as you were kissed with unknown passion and sensuality.

You tugged at Murphy’s lip as he broke off the kiss. It felt like your body had been set on fire. Like you had taken a plunge in icy waters. Every part of you was tingling and yearning for more.

Murphy patted your thigh, tilting his head towards the campground. “Go.”

“Right now?”

“I’ll be here when you get back,” he promised.

“But then what?”

Murphy’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, dragging his hand up the length of your leg and discovering something new to grab on. With one last squeeze, he raised his eyebrows and gave you a wink.

“You’ll see.”

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I was writing 

and then I discovered John Murphy TikTok...

So how could I not after seeing this

And This

And THIS

????

Like holy shit what did you expect me to do?

did you say watch more tiktoks i think i will

[kilibaggins]

Request Rules!

Request: Not requested!

Summary: You, being a Grounder who has lived on Earth your whole life, sometimes forgets that Murphy hasn't seen some of the things you have taken advantage of. In this case? It's his first snow fall.

A/N: I was inspired by a few people who wrote Memori Snow fics so, I decided to write one but with the reader instead! P.s. I'm sorry my fics are usually always formatted differently lmao. I am not consistent at all.

Warnings: I don't think there's any! Just pure fluff and Murphy being cute.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone had told you 2 weeks ago that you would be in the woods with a boy from space, who had no clue how to make a fire, let alone survive, and You would be absolutely in love with him, you would have probably stabbed them. But now, as you walk through the snow to get back to your cave, youŕe happy about the things that have happened. You walk up to the cave entrance, and walk inside, the firewood in your arms. Today was your day to get the firewood, and of course it starts to snow your day. When you walk in, Murphy is sitting by the fire, his hands out and close to the fire to warm up. You smile softly at him.

“Hey.” You say, walking in. He looks up at you and stares at you in surprise. You raise an eyebrow and look at him. “What?” You ask, and he gets up quickly and walks toward you. He puts his hand on the top of your head, and messes with the hair there. That’s when realization hits you.

“It’s snowing right now.” You say, and you walk from him. He gasps softly and looks towards your cave entrance expectantly. You guys can’t see the actual opening of the cave from where you have everything set up, you have to walk around a small wall to see. So, no wonder he didn't know it was snowing until now. He jumps up and down excitedly and starts walking towards the entrance, away from you as you put the wood down. He’s always been very adventurous with things.

“John! Wait.” You laugh, and start walking forward. When you make it to the cave entrance, you see him. He stares all around him in absolute awe, his mouth hanging open and his arms out. He looks everywhere, his head and eyes don’t stop moving as he takes in the amazing sight. He laughs loudly, and happily as he catches some of the big flakes on his tongue. You cross your arms and lean against the outside of your cave. You smile at his weird actions and laugh when he does.

“Oh my god.” Murphy says in Awe, and sighs happily. His hand comes up to his hair and he giggles when it’s wet from the snow.

“So, I’m assuming there’s not much snow in space, huh?” You joke, and walk forward. He just shakes his head and laughs. He reaches down and grabs a handful of it, and moves it around in his hands.

“It’s so beautiful…” Murphy mumbles, and he drops the snow out of his now cold hands. He looks up again and lets the snow fall on his face. There’s a lot of snow in his hair and you reach up to mess with his hair.

“You’re going to get very cold.” You say, and he shrugs. He hadn't even noticed that he ran out without a coat until now. You lean forward and kiss his cheek softly and he turns to you, a pleased smile on his face. You grab his freezing hand, and pull him towards the cave. He frowns softly and looks around at the snow.

“But…” He starts to say, and stops himself.

“You’ll see it again.” You promise, and he turns to you. “I’ll make sure of it.” You promise, because you know he has doubts of good things. He smiles at you, and leans forward kissing you softly. You kiss back, and rub at his exposed arms, trying to warm him up. Murphy pulls back and smiles at you.

“Fine… We can go.” Murphy says, and you pull at his hand. He allows you to lead him back to the cave, while he looks around him some more at all of the white around the area. When you guys get to the cave entrance, he takes one last look and sighs happily. He turns to you and nods.

“Come on, let's warm you up.” You say softly,and pull him over to the makeshift be you both share near the fire. You lay him down, and stock the fire.

“You get to see that every year?” He asks, and you laugh softly at his cluelessness.

“Yes. I assume the Ark didn't teach much about Earth weather.” You say, and he shakes his head no. You lay next to him, and pull the blanket up over the both of you. He shivers softly and he cuddles into your warmth. “I knew you’d feel cold soon.” You laugh.

“The Ark didn't teach us much about Earth until They started doing Earth Skills. Then, they taught us certain things, but nothing about frozen water from the sky other than that it happened.” He says softly. You smile at the way his voice softens with you. You’ve seen him around others, he’s always tough and harsh around the edges. His tongue is angry around others, but with you he’s soft. And there was one point in time where you thought that was a bad thing. Soft was what got you killed. Soft was what got you taken advantage of. But now with Murphy, you see it’s not all bad.

“Tell me about the Ark.” You say suddenly, and he sighs. The Ark has always been a tough subject. He sits up lightly, and you grab his hand to test how cold it is, and are happy to see he’s not that cold anymore.

“It was… Boring. But it also always had something happening.” He says, and you look at him confused.

“What?” You laugh softly, and he laughs as well, realizing how the sentence sounded.

“I mean… The Ark was boring for me. I didn’t do much. Most of the time it was either work, break the rules, or sleep. There wasn’t much there for me.” He says, and you grab his hand, urging him to talk more. “It was always too quiet. Even with the constant humming of the technology, it still was way too quiet. The only person I had was John.” He says, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Mbege.” He clarifies. He sighs softly.

“And there was no snow, so fuck that place.” You joke, knowing thinking about Mbege makes him sad, and he laughs loudly.

“Yeah, No snow, so It’s automatically shit.” He says, and settles back down into your arms. “I’m happy I can be in a place where I can see snow.” He says, and you look at him. You smile at him, and kiss his cheek. You know he has trouble admitting exactly how he feels to you, so you know that him saying that means that he’s saying he’s happy to be here with you.

“I’m happy you’re here too, John.”

[malirbly]

The 100 Fanfiction Options

Here is another post about the wonderful show the 100!!! So I have many plot Ideas for the 100 fanfictions bouncing around in my head so I thought I’d share them and you guys could vote which one I should do first!! I chose my favorite five! 

Option # 1 

Title: I will Command Death

Summary: After irradiating Mt. Weather, and leaving Camp Jaha, Roan kom Azgeda captured her, and brought her to his mother, Queen Nia, who with the agreement to spare her, trained her as a warrior and made her swear fealty to Azgeda, five years later Clarke Griffin or Clarke kom Skaikru is no more she is Klark kom Azgeda, and Wanheda, but no one outside of Azgeda knows that the most powerful Azgedan general is also Wanheda. What happens when Azgeda is called to war with the Heda of the Coalition? 

Option # 2

Title: We won’t just survive, we will thrive

Summary: Emma Clarkson was born in Alpha, seen as privileged for where she grew up. When she landed in the Sky box everyone hated her for being Alpha, what happens when she’s sent in the Dropship headed for earth, and what will she do when she meets the whirlwind of genius named Raven Reyes?

Option # 3 

Title: In love may you find the next

Summary: Heidi Carson, was born in factory station, she was put in the Sky box when she was 11 and now she’s 16 and she’s being sent in the dropship with 99 other delinquents to the ground. Can she survive? Will she survive? Or will earth and her crush on Clarke Griffin be the death of her? Can she find love on the ground?

Option # 4 

Title: Ogeda

Summary: Clarke Griffin was sent to earth with Octavia Blake a few weeks after her father was floated. They land in Trikru, taken in by the people of Ton dc, they defeat the Mounan, ogeda. When the ark lands they find Wanheda and Skairipa, the commander of death and death from above. Can the grounders and Skaikru find peace? Will Skairipa and Wanheda side with The Grounders of Skaikru?

Option # 5 

Title: We will Rise

Summary: What if Skaikru had killed Anya? With her help the alliance with the grounders is more easily made. What happens when Anya finds herself falling for the blue-eyed blonde that saved her from Mount Weather?

Which Option is your favorite?? 

I am aware I’m not the best at summaries sooo, yes, also if you have any better title ideas pls do tell!! :D  

Vote your fav option! 

[lahnistersden]

the core four ( damaged souls ) + the four elements ( insp )

[lizziebeth98]

The 100 x The Vampire Diaries 

A work in progress. First two Chapters done. I’ll begin posting when I’m done with the first 10. 

[fire-of-the-sun]

Paths to Eden

A Kabby fanfiction on AO3

Synopsis: Determined to find Abby after her decision to leave the Bunker, Kane searches for her, ready to die by her side. But life isn't through with them yet...

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522870/chapters/48709595

[insideabunker]

The Games: Chapter 1

Inspired by this year’s USWNT Gold Medal victory.  An Olympic Hockey AU where Clarke is the Captain of the U.S. Women’s National team and Lexa is the new star goalie for team Canada.

“Ow! Shit!” Clarke grimaced as the team trainer, Eric Jackson, wound a roll of plastic wrap around the ice bag shrouding her knee.

“Is the pain worse than normal?” The young man paused, peering suspiciously at the sweaty, miserable woman seated in front of him.  Clarke Griffin was not a model patient per se.  No one could accuse her of being a prima donna when it came to the bumps and bruises typical of a hockey player, but then again, she was never one to admit to an injury either.  The latter fact worried the trainer much more than the former.

She shook her head, jaw clenched. "No.  The ice is just cold is all."

Clarke closed her eyes.  Refusing to acknowledge the throbbing in her knee, she resigned herself to suffer through the uncomfortable rehabilitation measure in silence. 

"Clarke, playing through an injury is a young woman's game.  You've been at this for eight years now. You need to start being more cautious."

Jackson avoided his patient's gaze, though he could feel her withering gaze.  He heard her sigh and felt her shift uncomfortably as he adjusted the binding around her leg.

"I promise I'm fine. It's just a little overuse pain.  I swear I'd tell you if I thought I'd re-injured it."

Jackson stared down at the star athlete discerningly, weighing the truthfulness of her statement. One eyebrow rose, and he squinted skeptically.

"You promise?"

"Promise."

"Good," he nodded as he finished wrapping her leg, "because you can't lead a team from the bench, Captain Griffin."

Clarke growled, bright blue eyes rolling at the always gregarious gentleman.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves.  Coach Kane hasn't announced anything yet."

Jackson smirked, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"Come on Griffin; you're a shoe-in.  2014 NCHC Player of the Year. 2014 NCHC scoring champion, four First Team All-American selections, Bob Allen award recipient, five-time IIHF Women's World Championship medalist..."

He paused wiggling his eyebrows, "four of those medals being gold.  Plus, you're a two-time Olympic veteran, and..."

"And the slowest person from red line to red line, the second oldest by two years and the only person on this team to miss a full season of play due to injury. Kane is as likely to cut me as he is to pin a C on me."

Clarke finished the statement for him, looking discouragingly at her ice wrapped knee.  She heaved herself off the bench, groaning as she stood and made her way towards the training room door.  Jackson grabbed his medical supply bag, following hot on her heels, undeterred in his enthusiasm.

"You bounced back from what would probably have been a career-ending injury for anyone else.  You've dedicated yourself to this team beyond what any reasonable person would expect of you, and you've become a role model for every woman in this organization, not to mention countless young girls out there.  Stop being modest. Nobody deserves that C more than you do.  Coach Kane would be crazy not to give it to you."

Clarke continued down the hall towards the locker room, doing her best to cover her discomfort as she walked.

"Raven is just as talented, and she didn't miss the last IIHF appearance."

"Raven is a phenomenal player, but she's not a leader."

Clarke shot Jackson an annoyed glare, her objection to the statement evident.

"You're selling her short."

Jackson sighed.  "Okay, I agree that Raven has leadership qualities, but they are unrefined.  She's impulsive, and frankly, a little immature.  I'm sure she'd make a good captain, one day.  Right now though, everyone is looking to you for leadership.  You know it, I know it, and I'm telling you, Coach Kane knows it as well.

The two burst through the swinging doors that separated the women's locker room from the main hall and immediately descended into a scene of utter chaos.  Balled up wads of stick tape were being tossed back and forth in every direction and jets of icy cold liquid flew through the air, showering anyone within range.

"Take it back!"

Raven ducked, dodging an errant tape ball that had just been hurled her way and immediately retaliated by blasting her attacker, an already soaked Octavia, with spray from her water bottle.

"I take nothing back!"

Raven snatched her goalie stick off the floor and used it to deflect another tape ball.  The trash bounced directly into the annoyed face of Harper McIntyre, one of the team's defenseman.  

"Your brother is a first class hottie with a rockin' bod, Octavia. End of story."

Raven grinned maniacally at the younger girl. "Just out of curiosity, is Bellamy packing a pistol or a shotgun when it comes to his... You know."

She pointed towards her lower torso and winked, her merriment only increasing as she watched the rookie winger's face turn from pale pink to bright red.

Clarke rolled her eyes at the scene.  Teasing Octavia about her brother, Bellamy, the team's new assistant coach had become Raven's favorite pastime as of late.  The game always seemed to escalate into pandemonium if Clarke wasn't there to play mediator.

"On second thought, maybe I should just ask him myself."

"Ugh! You're so gross!"  Octavia grabbed a loose piece of locker room debris and lobbed it at Raven contemptuously.  Before the wadded-up garbage could find purchase, it was snatched out of the air by a furious looking Marcus Kane.

"Care to try again?"

All revelries immediately ceased.  As the realization of just how unamused Coach Kane looked dawned on the ladies, a dead silence fell over the room.  The women hurried to compose themselves, each one scrambling to resume their place in front of their ordained lockers.  A moment later, only Jackson and Clarke were left standing in the middle of the floor.

"Are you waiting for an invitation, Miss Griffin?" Coach Kane eyed the veteran forward, frowning as he waited for her to take the hint.

"No, sir."  Clarke hustled to her locker, taking great care not to betray any hint of her limp as she moved.

As soon as she took a seat, Kane turned to Jackson, clearing his throat.

"Mr. Jackson, if you wouldn't mind making yourself scarce for a moment, I need a word with my team."

Jackson nodded, hurrying back through the swinging doors, in no hurry to be on the receiving end of a Marcus Kane telling off.  The moment he was gone Kane's expression turned deadly serious.

"The walls have ears, ladies."

He folded his arms behind his back and began pacing slowly down the rows of lockers, eyeballing each player sternly.

"Nowhere is that truer than at the Olympic level.  When you ladies put on a Team USA jersey and step into the international spotlight, you do so as ambassadors of your home nation and role models to young women everywhere."

He turned, marching back in the other direction.

"One misconstrued comment, one joke taken out of context, and you besmirch the character of this team, and erode the good name of female athletes the world over."

He paused, shooting an annoyed glare at Raven Reyes, the team's starting goalie.

"Lewd and lascivious comments regarding teammates, coaches, and staff are unacceptable, and will not be tolerated.  Such behavior detracts from the esprit de corps we have worked so hard to cultivate, to say nothing of creating a climate of sexual misconduct that is beneath the dignity of this program."

Kane paced back to the middle of the locker room floor, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed the room.

"There exists no greater joy in life than making the game you love your profession, and make no mistake ladies, playing for Team USA is a profession.”

Kane stressed the last word, adding an extra sense of gravity to it.

"This arena is a workplace, and while you are here, you will conduct yourselves in a professional, respectful manner befitting the prestige of Team USA Hockey.  Which means..."

He swung his arms in front of him, rolling back on his heels as he crossed them over his chest.

"Check the grab ass at the door and save the details of your exploits for after hours."

He shot Raven, who was now staring at her feet bashfully, another stern glance.  Satisfied that he had made himself clear, Kane uncrossed his arms and began stomping off towards the coach's suite.  He paused as he passed Clarke, lingering just long enough to place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"My office, Griffin. Five minutes."

As soon as he'd left the locker room, the air filled with murmuring.  Clarke could hear fragmented bits of conversation, words like "cut" and "retired," though she did her best to ignore them as she pulled on her sweats.  A moment later, a shameful Raven extended a hand to her, helping her up from the bench.

"He could be making you captain."

"He could be sending me home."

"He's not.

Clarke stared at Raven, once her rival, now her oldest friend on the team.  She felt a pang of nostalgic as she remembered their first season together, nearly a decade ago.  Those days seemed like another lifetime now, a lifetime in which being too old or too slow would never become a reality.  Those had been the best years of Clarke's life, and whatever fate awaited her in Coach Kane's office, she was determined to remain stoic.

"Guess we're about to find out."

Without another word, she zipped up her hoodie and exited the locker room, afraid if she lingered her emotions would get the better of her.  Clarke's mind shifted into autopilot as she drifted down the long hallway toward the stairs that lead to the coach's suite.  Her heart beat faster as she climbed upwards.  Her palms sweated.  Her ears buzzed with white noise.  Her body trembled with the kind of nervous energy that was precipitated only by life-changing moments such as this one.

 She barely registered passing through the small waiting area and into the back until her hand had wrapped around the polished knob on the entrance to Kane's office.  Suddenly, all Clarke could do was stare at the placard on the door.

"Marcus D. Kane - Head Coach”

Clarke remembered the staring at a similar placard years ago, one tacked to a rickety wooden door in an ice rink in Bemidji, Minnesota.  Back then, she'd felt like a tiny child cowering in front of the principal's office on her first day at a new school.  Eight years later, she and the grizzled head coach had built a comfortable rapport, a relationship grounded in mutual respect and admiration.  That fact didn't stop her from feeling anything but apprehensive every time she walked through the door of his office.

Clarke remained frozen, unable to get air into her lungs or move her hand.  She reckoned at least three minutes passed before she was able to regain her composure.

"Have some courage," she thought, critical of her timidity. "Take a breath, go in there and see what's going on."

Finally, she turned the handle, opened the door, and found herself staring directly into the piercing gaze of Marcus Kane.

"Have a seat, Clarke."

Coach Kane gestured to the spare chain on the other side of his immaculately kept desk.

Her nerves getting the better of her, Clarke crossed the room slowly.  She lowered herself into the chair as though it were a bed of nails; her hands clenched around armrests, her knuckles white.

"You wanted to talk to me, Coach?"

Kane pressed the tips of his fingers together in front of his face, creating a steeply.  He flexed them a few times before reaching for a small framed photograph on his desk, pushing it towards her.

"Remember this?"

Clarke stared at the scrawny blond teenager in the photograph, grinning like a maniac as she and a taller, olive-skinned girl waved tiny American flags from the cheap seats of a second-rate airline.  An annoyed Coach Kane looked on in mock embarrassment.

"Of course I do.  That was the day we left for Vancouver."

He nodded.  "Your first Olympics. You were the youngest player I'd ever selected; barely old enough to vote, let alone represent your country on the global stage."

Clarke nodded, running her fingers over the glass.  "I kept thinking you were going to change your mind."

"I almost did.”

Marcus held out his hand for the photograph and gave it a wistful look before placing back on the desk.

"Twice. The second time was right before the games. The board tried to convince me that taking someone so young would be a disaster."

"And the first?"

Kane hesitated, considering the question carefully.

"It was when I read the player profile the Olympic scouts sent me about you.  I took one look at your height and weight, and I almost discarded it right then and there.  I remember thinking that nobody your size could ever complete at such a high level."

Forever sensitive about her stature, the blonde tried not to be offended by his comment.

"What changed your mind?"

"Just before I closed your file, I saw where you came from."

"What is that? Some weird form of nepotism?"

Clarke furrowed her brow, skeptical that her always pragmatic coach would have considered her solely based on their mutual hometown.

Kane leaned over towards her, resting on his forearms.

"Did you know that no U.S. Olympic hockey team has ever won gold without a player from Warroad, Minnesota on the roster?"

"Is that true?"

He nodded.  "You come from one of the oldest and strongest hockey traditions in the world, Clarke.  As soon as I saw that you came from Warroad, I knew exactly the kind of player you were; unselfish, dedicated, indomitable. The type of skater who earns her spot, over and over again, every day.  I spend years trying to teach players that kind of hockey, but you... I never had to teach you. You were born into that tradition."

Kane's face finally lost some of its intensity.

"And if I hadn't been convinced to give you a look at that, I certainly would have been after I realized who your dad was."

The mention of her late father, Kane's former high school teammate, stirred conflicting emotions in Clarke.  Once upon a time, her memories of Jake had all been images of him teaching to shoot pucks in their driveway, or cheering her on during games. In the year since his death, new memories had begun to eclipse her time with him; memories of an empty spot in the stands, and of a house that had stopped feeling like home after his death.

"He'd be so proud of everything you've accomplished, Clarke.  I hope you know that."

She smiled, blushing a little as she stared at her feet.  "I know."

An awkward silence permeated the room as the two waited for the ghost of Jake to dissipate.  Finally, Kane leaned back in his chair, his face emotionless.

"The hardest part of my job is telling players when their time is up."

Clarke's jaw clenched, her head remaining down, unable to look her coach in the eyes.  Every muscle in her body tensed as she prepared for the crushing blow he was about to deliver.

"Eight years ago I took a chance on a scrawny kid from Northern Minnesota, and in eight years I haven't spent a single second regretting that decision.  You are, without a doubt, the hardest-working player I've ever had the privilege of coaching.  You are talented beyond question and selfless to a fault.  You've given more to this team than any coach could ever ask of a player, and you have done so enthusiastically and without complaint. When you tore your ACL, I worried that you might never put on skates again, let alone play another period of hockey.  You proved me wrong.  You battled back. You worked harder than ever to rehabilitate yourself. You learned to adapt, and reinvented the way you played the game. But..."

Clarke's eye screwed shut, and her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. 

"I can't ignore the fact that you've slowed down.  You still have better on-ice vision, and a quicker stick than just about any player out there but, speed-wise, your metrics are down across the board."

Kane paused, staring across the desk at the player who he'd come to consider a kind of surrogate daughter.

"Clarke, please, look at me."

It required every ounce of her determination for Clarke to raise her head.  She clenched her bottom lip between her teeth, determined not to burst into tears.

"I think you and I both know that this will be your last Olympics."

It took more than a moment to process the statement, but when the weight of Kane's words finally dawned on her, Clarke's breath caught in her throat.

"Wait. If this is my last Olympics, then you're not.."

The corners of Kane's mouth twisted upward almost imperceptibly. It barely qualified, but it was a smile if you looked carefully.

"I need a leader, Griffin."

He fished something out of his pocket and, keeping it covered with his hand, slowly slid the item across the desk.

"No U.S. Olympic hockey team has ever won gold without a player from Warroad, Minnesota on the roster."

With that, Kane turned his hand over, revealing its contents.  There, clutched reverentially in his palm, was a captain's C.

Next Chapter ->

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