#also that Mimics is the lifeblood butterfly!!!! i love drawing Mimic with them

[hollypies]

OOOOOOO NEW THORN REFSHEET!!!! OUGH OUGH THIS IS REALLY COOL!!!!!

Updated Thorn's refsheet, as the old one quickly became obsolete and I needed a new one for Art Fight purposes!

Once again Mimic and Briar belong to @hollypies and @original-character-chaos ! Also one version without the cloak and one with the hex codes listed for eyedropping.

[acenancy]

omg i don't really have a specific prompt but could you write a fic about anything season 4 bellarke related?? really whatever you feel like writing i trust you

omg i’m so flattered you trust me but IDK IF YOU SHOULD??? okay here you go, babes.

darkness brings evil things, oh, the reckoning begins

(AO3)

Fandom: The 100Pairing: BellarkeRating: T (for violent thoughts???)Words: 1,480

Maybe it seems like there’s no rhyme or reason to what Octavia isdoing, but there is. The rhyme is this: slash the throats, slice theveins, stab the hearts of those who do the same. Here’s the reason:Lincoln.

Octavia doesn’t particularly care why Echo approached her afterA.L.I.E. was defeated.

To eliminate the leaders of the Thirteen Clans and help King Roanrise to power, Heda once and for all.

Whatever.

To kill Wanheda, take her power, use it to annihilate them.

Again, Octavia could not care less.

Still, she agrees to Echo’s proposition.

Wiping out your competitors, taking power, putting people in charge –it’s all politics. Possibly, if things were different, Octaviawould have a vested interest in the state of the grounders and herpeople. As it is, she’s interested in one thing only: bringingvengeance upon anyone responsible, directly or indirectly, for thedeath of Lincoln.

The death of her soul.

And as far as Octavia is concerned, anyone in a seat of power heldPike’s hand and pulled the trigger with him. Now, thanks to Echo,she has a veiled excuse to kill them.

If Clarke Griffin happens to be one of the people she’s beencontracted to murder, well. That’s tough.

Has it occurred to Octavia that Clarke tried helping her and theresistance take down Pike? Yeah. That Clarke has saved Octavia andtheir friends and their entire people countless time? Yeah. Has italso occurred to Octavia that Clarke abandoned them all in aheartbeat and only came back after she killed her girlfriend? Thatshe’s committed genocide? That she left people Octavia cared aboutto die? Yeah.

When it comes down to it, killing Clarke will be one of the easiestthings Octavia ever does. There’s no doubt in her mind about it.Really.

Plus, it will be nice, won’t it, to rip the heart right out ofBellamy’s chest? To take away the other half of him, just like hedid to her?

She reaches Arkadia at night.

Clarke’s quarters are smaller than she expected. Her room in Poliswas extravagant, lavish for a home built from rubble. Octavia canonly assume her bedroom on the Ark was decent too. Here though, onthe ground, in Arkadia, Clarke’s shabby tent from the dropship wasprobably nicer than the room she has now. Clarke’s cot takes upevery inch of the room, not leaving any space on the sides so thatshe has to climb atop it from the foot of her bed. There are nowindows, no vents, no dresser for clothes. The room itself was quitepossibly a walk-in closet when they were in space.

Knowing Clarke is staying in such undesirable conditions should bringa smile to Octavia’s face, but all it does is make her stomachchurn with anger. Of course the princess is living modestly. What afucking a martyr.

It takes less than a second for Octavia to realize she has no placeto hide, though. The surprise attack she planned would be thrown outthe window, if there were one. If Octavia were to kill Clarke now, itwould have to be as soon as she stepped through the door, over herthreshold, in clear sight of whoever  stood in the hallway.

Would Octavia care if everyone knows she killed Clarke Griffin? Notreally. Actually, she wants them to know, especially her brother. Butit would hinder her plans of killing every other person on herhit-list, so she’ll refrain. For now.

Octavia is just about to make her exit when she hears two voicesoutside.

“You can’t sleep in here, Clarke. Seriously.” It’s Bellamy.

“I already have,” Clarke replies. “I can and I will.”

“Switch with me,” Bellamy insists. Octavia can tell by theirritation dripping from his voice that he’s genuinely distressedby Clarke’s sleeping arrangements.

Clarke huffs. “No.”

Eyes wide, Octavia’s heart kicks into overdrive as the doorknobbegins to turn.

“This isn’t even a room,” says Bellamy. The doorknob stopsmoving. “It’s a walk-in closet.”

That’s exactly what Octavia thought. She glares at the door.

“Is a walk-in closet not considered a room?” argues Clarke.

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m fine, Bellamy.”

“Clarke.” Bellamy’s voice has an edge to it now. He’s firm.“You’re cramped in there. There’s a draft. The couple next dooris loud the entire night. You can’t sleep.”

Octavia wonders how Bellamy knows what Clarke’s bedroom is likeovernight but quickly decides she doesn’t care. The state of theirrelationship has always been – and probably always will be – amystery to her. All she knows for sure is that Bellamy’s heart isClarke’s. That’s all the information she needs to motivate her.

“I can’t sleep because the world is ending, Bellamy, notbecause my neighbors don’t know how to stifle their moans.”

The doorknob starts to turn again. Octavia stumbles backwards.

“Stay in my room,” Bellamy practically yells. “With me.” Histone is softer. “Stay with me.”

There’s silence at that, and Octavia isn’t sure if they’vepitched their voices lower or if Clarke simply isn’t sure what tosay. Octavia collapses at the foot of the bed.

Her heart, in spite of itself, swells with emotion. It’s not angeror blind hatred or bitterness she feels either; it’s sad, a little.A bit regretful. Mostly, it feels light, like it’s floating away.

She remembers the anxieties that come with caring for someone morethan you care for yourself, care for anyone else. She remembersclinging to someone for big things and silly things and everything inbetween. She remembers wanting someone, one someone, at your sidealways, for the rest of your numbered days. She remembers what it’slike to love this way.

And isn’t that why Octavia is killing Clarke in the first place? Totake this love away from them? To make Bellamy feel what she feelsevery waking moment? Isn’t that why? Isn’t it?

Frustrated and confused, Octavia presses the heels of her handsagainst her eyes, smudging her warpaint.

She doesn’t know what she believes anymore.

On the other side of the door, Clarke finally speaks. “Just let meget my sketchpad.”

Even as the door opens, Octavia doesn’t bother standing up fromwhere she’s perched on Clarke’s cot. Clarke doesn’t hide hersurprise to see her, taking a step back into Bellamy’s chest.

Octavia swipes futilely at her eyes. The backs of her hands come awayblack.

From over Clarke’s shoulder, Bellamy exhales her name. “O…”

Octavia ignores him. “I need a place to crash,” she lies. Shefeels the guilt and dishonesty twist in her gut. “So I came here.”

Disbelief fills Clarke’s voice. She hasn’t stepped away fromBellamy. “Here?”

“Nowhere else to go.” The truth of it washes over her in onecold, harsh wave.

“Of course you can stay here,” Clarke tells her. She glances atBellamy whose eyes are cast down at the floor. “Actually, I’m uh– you can have the room to yourself tonight. I won’t be here.”

Unable to meet her eyes, Octavia nods. Clarke mimics her, then stepsinto the room to reach under her bed. The sketchpad she pulls fromunderneath is covered with sketches of herbs and oaks and the sky,and right in the center, as though shielded by it all, Octaviacatches a glimpse of her brother. His eyes are bright, smile small,face freckled with stars. Clarke holds the pad tight to her chest.

“Goodnight, Octavia,” she says. Clarke doesn’t wait for aresponse before she leaves. Bellamy hesitates in the doorway though,casting one final look at Octavia before closing the door.

Heart breaking all over again, she scoots up the cot. She lays down,staring at the metal ceiling, and forces herself to breathe.

She thinks of Lincoln, like she always, always, always does. Theirlove is still the lifeblood pumping through her veins.

Then Octavia thinks of Bellamy and she thinks of Clarke. She thinksof the two of them, together. And, though she hates to, she thinks ofhow much she loves both of them, more than any resentment she feels.

It’s the worst realization she could possibly have.

Because she was never going to kill Clarke, was she? Octavia isn’tsure what she was going to do. But at the end of the day,Clarke is her family, almost as much Bellamy, and she would never doto them what they have done to her. She could never take them awayfrom each other. She could never inflict the pain that’s become heronto people she hates with every fiber of her being to love.

Octavia wants to scream until her lungs give out.

Instead, she thinks of Clarke’s drawing of Bellamy. She remembersanother drawing, in a leather notebook, of a girl fresh from spaceand chasing butterflies, a lifetime ago.