Okay, so because I have little self-control when it comes to writing fanfiction, I decided to make one-shots. Of Bellarke. This will have no particular updating time-as if I ever have one-and will consist of my own ideas and the requests people have. But I've had this idea for awhile, but didn't want to write a whole fanfiction revolving around it so, I present: Bellarke one-shots. Please review! Ideas are also welcome. (This first shot will be a mini-series.)

I became aware of a light breeze, rustling my hair, disturbing the small clutches of grass at my feet. Sunlight bled from the sky, rich and sweet. It cascaded in a curtain and formed a pool of gold in the cupped valley I stood before. The hill wasn't much, but it was enough. From this vantage point, I could make out the tower of Polis. It punched through the thick knot of trees to the west like a triumphant fist.

I tried to remember how I'd gotten here, but my memories were broken and murky. I thought I recalled Arkadia, but it was as far off as Polis. As unreachable as a dream. For all I know, it had been one.

"I bet you're feeling pretty confused," a friendly voice came from behind me.

I went perfectly still.

The blood in my veins stopped flowing. I couldn't even hear my own heartbeat.

No. That was my first thought. Because it was impossible. My ribs tightened around me like ropes, squeezing all the breath from my lungs. Slowly, I turned around.

Familiar brown eyes met mine. His hair was the same length, but it seemed longer, twining around his neck from underneath a faded beanie. His hands were in his pockets and his lips wore a lazy smirk, as if this was a casual meeting. As if he weren't dead.

"Finn?" I whispered. The word barely held any sound as I stared at this boy. But it couldn't be. Finn was gone, wiped from this world with nothing more to show for it than the blood that had been on my hands. But blood washed with water. Ashes faded away.

He smiled at me. "In the flesh. Well," he shrugged. "Sort of."

I gaped at him, wide-eyed. The wind dried out my mouth, but I couldn't seem to close it. "H-how-" my voice caught. "How are you here?"

Finn took a step forward and on instinct, I took a step back. This wasn't right. None of this was right. "You're dead," I said aloud, as if he didn't know.

But if this bothered him, he didn't let on. He rolled back and forth on his heels, his expression thoughtful. "Last I checked."

The world spun. Polis changed positions, moving from the west to east. My legs threatened to buckle under me. "What's going on?" I asked, and I could hear the panic there, tasting of pennies from where I'd bitten my tongue. "Am I dead?" That was the only thing that made sense, and even that seemed unlikely. Was Heaven known for being a carbon-copy of the world only the deceased recognized?

"Now don't go getting your braid in a twist, Princess," Finn said, and he took another step forward. When I fell back another step, he raised his palms to me. His voice turned gentle. "I'm not going to hurt you," he told me as he stepped forward again. I hesitated, hearing his final words echoing back to me through the haze. Thanks, Princess.

As if reading my mind, Finn took another step. "It's me, Clarke."

I shook my head. Blinked. Waited for him to vanish on the air.

He didn't.

"No," I breathed. And then, louder, "No!" I stumbled back, but my foot caught on a stone in the grass and I lost my balance. I toppled back but before I could hit the ground, arms were around me, keeping me from colliding with the dirt.

Finn was suddenly very close, staring into my eyes. What little air had been left in me was gone now. I had no choice but to take him in. No choice but to acknowledge what every instinct in me was pushing me to believe and this time, I didn't try to move away. Because his arms were around me. Because they were real. Tangible. They were as I remembered, as were his eyes, before all the blood and death had leeched the light from them. He was the boy I'd known him to be. The one who had refused to wear his harness as the dropship came down. The one who'd crafted me a double-headed deer out of a scrap of metal.

"You're . . . " the wind snatched away my words. I took a breath. "You're . . . here. You're really here."

Finn grinned widely at me, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Welcome to the City of Light, Princess."