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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Sub Rosa [99]

xv. the dying of the light

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.0k

Warnings: language, mentions of blood, angst, Cadogan is a piece of shit, anxiety, fighting, death, just some very sad, very heavy stuff.

Summary: bellamy is gone, gabriel is gone, and now madi has disappeared. desperation rises as you all race to save madi before she too is taken from you.

a/n: sorry, but my brain is struggling to process that this is number 99!!!!! i swear i just posted episode 1 like last week? how is this possible? the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

The first thing you realize is that Miller saved all of your lives with his quick thinking. You turn and meet his gaze, grateful that he was fast enough to get the bomb behind one of the solid doors. “Thank you.”

He nods in acknowledgment, before another soft rumble settles through the room, and the door the bomb is behind starts to groan softly. Which brings you to the second realization, that in saving all of your lives, Miller possibly doomed the others. Because the door he threw the bomb behind is the door that leads to the rest of the bunker. It’s the door that leads to the stone, in the rec room with Jackson, Murphy, Emori, and Raven.

Miller immediately pries the door in question off the hinges with one of the spears from the arena, revealing a doorway of stacked concrete, confirming what you already knew. The others are trapped down below, and the rest of you are trapped up here. You have access to the outside, but no way to reach the stone or the rest of your friends. You turn to look at Clarke, seeking out her counsel, despite still being angry with her. She gives you a desperate look, before a look of realization passes over her face. “We can still get to Madi.”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small vial, three blue pills inside. You recognize them immediately as nano trackers, likely brought over by Sheidheda, the same ones Cadogan used to leave the bunker. Clarke unscrews the bottle and immediately dumps one out, preparing to swallow it, but Gaia closes the space between them and stops her hand from dropping the pill into her mouth. “Clarke, we have to think this through.”

“Gaia's right. Only the second pill’s for me.” Clarke looks over at you in surprise, not expecting you to take her side after what she did. But she killed Bellamy to protect Madi, and if something happens to Madi, then Bellamy and Gabriel died for nothing. All of it was for nothing. You refuse to let their deaths be in vain, which is why you hold your hand out for one of the pills, and Clarke quickly passes one to you. Behind you, Octavia speaks up, moving closer to you and Clarke. “We're gonna need an inside man.”

You both understand her statement for what it is: an offer to go with the two of you, so Clarke hands Octavia the third and final pill. All of you swallow them, one after the next, Octavia the last to do so, and you stand staring at each other, waiting to instantly disappear the way that Cadogan did.

Except, you don’t.

The three of you stay firmly in place, looking at each other in absolute confusion. “Cadogan disappeared right away.”

“Why isn't this working?”

Hope answers you and Clarke both, shrugging a little as she does. “Maybe somebody has to be waiting in Bardo to pull you through.”

A strange look passes over Clarke’s face, half anger, half amusement, before settling into one of determination. She crosses the room in three strides, stopping at the door to the rest of the bunker, clamping her hands down on the first piece of stone she sees. She pulls, letting out a cry of effort as she does, the concrete moving nowhere. She tries again, her hands slipping off the stone, likely scratching her the way they did when the two of you tried to dig to this very same bunker, and you shake your head before moving towards her. “Clarke.”

She doesn’t turn around, determinedly yanking at the stones and sliding off them, making no progress, going nowhere, but still trying nonetheless. “We have to get to Madi! Cadogan could be digging into her brain right now.”

You reach out for her, grabbing her arm and spinning her towards you. “Clarke! We spent days trying to dig our way to the bunker before we nearly died in that collapse, and this is no different. You’re gonna dislodge a stone and get yourself killed if you keep this up, and you’re no use to Madi if you’re dead.”

She sets her jaw, and you think she’s about to start a fight with you before her eyes drop and her gaze softens. “Your shoulder.”

You peer down at your shoulder and the blood staining your shirt, the wound from Sheidheda still bleeding, the pain forgotten to you in the chaos of everything that’s happened since then. “It’s nothing.”

You try to shrug her off, stepping away from her, not wanting her comfort or her help, but she reaches out to grab your arm, her hand closing around one of the cuts on your forearm. She can feel the wetness on her hand as soon as she grabs you, and she immediately lets go of you and looks at you in alarm. “La lune!”

She grabs your hand and turns your arm over, eyes scanning the cuts on both of your forearms. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I honestly can't feel it. Adrenaline and all that.”

“Come here.” She tries to pull you to the side, and you don’t budge at first, but she gives you one of those looks that lets you know this is not negotiable, because your own words apply to you in this moment. You’re no good to Madi dead, and bleeding to death because you’re mad at Clarke is not the way to go. So when she tugs you to the side a second time, you let her, and she motions for you to sit across from her as she tears strips of cloth from the bottom of her shirt. The tension between the two of you temporarily melts away as she ties makeshift bandages around your forearms and shoulder, your access to real bandages nonexistent. You sit quietly as she fixes you up the best she can, before she finally breaks the silence to whisper, “I’m sorry about Bellamy, I swear I am. I didn’t want to do it, but I had to, to protect Madi. You can hate me forever, la lune, I’ll understand.”

You sit in silence for a second, weighing her words, and you can tell from the anguish in her voice that she means it. But that doesn't erase all of your feelings instantly, as much as you wish it did. You wish you could erase the hurt and the grief and the anger, but you can’t. It’s still raw and open, weighing on you at every moment. “Clarke, you’re my shining star. You’re a part of me. I understand why you did what you did, and I understand why you feel like it was the only choice. But that doesn't change the fact that Bellamy is dead and you pulled the trigger. I don't hate you, I don't think I ever could, but I don't forgive you either, at least not yet. Hopefully one day I’ll forgive you and we can move past this, but right now, I'm too damn hurt and angry.”

She nods her head, looking up at you with tears in her eyes. “I understand. If it helps, I regret it. I don't think I’d do it again, especially if I knew that Madi was just gonna turn herself in despite everything.”

You say nothing for a long second, your voice a soft whisper, cracking with emotion when you say, “I just wish I could have said goodbye. I gave him back the ring, you know, and he died thinking I didn't love him, but I do. I love him with my whole heart, my entire being. He’s my soulmate, and he died thinking that I hate him.”

You feel your bottom lip quiver before tears start to spill down your face, and you see tears in Clarke’s eyes before she pulls you in for a hug, holding you as you cry for Bellamy. And in this moment, you allow yourself to forget what happened to him, focusing only on the fact that he’s gone. You allow your twin to comfort you, hold you close, softly humming Clair de lune in your ear until you start to calm down again. And even after the two of you break apart, you stay side by side, unable to leave each other’s side, even now, when everything between you is tense and weird.

Indra is the first to break the silence and tension hanging over the room. “We should discuss the plan. Clarke, la lune, and Octavia bring us over. We get Madi and kill their leader.”

Gaia jumps down from the perch she was on, walking towards her mother. “Killing Cadogan won't change anything.”

“He can't chase us if he's dead.”

She shakes her head at Indra trying to get her to understand. “You've seen faith, Mother. You kill the Commander, another takes her place. You kill the Fleimkepa, another takes his place. Faith doesn't just die, it gets carried forward. Cadogan's people are no different.”

Miller asks the question that you’re all beginning to wonder. “Then how does this end?”

“Bellamy asked that question, too.” You all look towards Octavia, the mood sobering even further at the mention of Bellamy. “One Last War, and then we transcend and we become the light.”

Across the room, Jordan breaks his silence. “It's a beautiful idea, but fighting is not how we get there. War is a failure of everything. Which is why it's a test, not a war.”

“Test, war, test, war. The disciples have been studying the Bardo texts for over 1,000 years. You really think you know better?”

Jordan turns to Hope, answering her question with complete confidence. “Yes. And it's not just that I read some old books, I felt it. That red sun toxin showed me something. I couldn't figure it out, but I knew it was important, and then I read the Bardo texts, and it hit me... the next step in human evolution.”

You can feel Clarke going more restless with each passing second, until she abruptly stands and snaps, “Nonsense.”

Everyone turns to face her after the outburst, but she avoids everyone’s eyes as she stalks up the ramp towards the exit. “All that matters now is saving Madi and killing Cadogan. There's no Last War or test. Bellamy's dead because he believed that crap, and I've heard enough!”

You look after her retreating figure, wondering if you should go after her. Everything between the two of you is weird, and your anger is telling you to stay, bristling at the casual way she mentioned Bellamy’s death. But your softer side, the part of you that’s connected to her, it’s telling you to go after her, comfort her, despite what she did. Gaia seems to sense your conflict, because she steps towards you with a smile and whispers, “I got it.”

You nod in thanks, relieved that you don’t have to decide, before sitting back down and beginning the excruciating process of waiting once more. You’re quickly realizing that there’s nothing you hate more than waiting: waiting to fight, waiting to escape, waiting to die. Because waiting is usually silent, and that silence easily morphs into your regrets, and fears, and worries. It’s when you think about everything you've done wrong and everything you haven't yet gotten the chance to do. There’s time to think of who you’ve killed and who you’ve lost, which opens up the door to the painful memories that usually stay locked deep in your brain, in that place you try to keep hidden from everyone, including yourself.

Waiting is suffocating, and in the time you’ve spent on Earth, Sanctum, Skyring, and Bardo, you’ve already done too much of it.

You stand, starting to pace around the rotunda, the way Bellamy used to pace when he first got back from space. The same habit he turned to when he had to wait. And as your feet move you around the room in continuous circles, you start to understand. It’s rhythmic, the way your feet carry you across the floor, boots thudding softly against the metal, and each time you walk past Hope, the thuds stutter, your footsteps softened by an uneven spot on the floor.

As you pace around the room, you force your mind to stay on the safe topics. The ones that don't involve painful memories or the ghosts that seem to stalk you. Instead, you keep things light, reciting constellations and medicinal plants, anything to keep your mind occupied. A few times you slip up, your thoughts drifting to what Bellamy was thinking in his final moments, as he bled out on Sanctum alone. You start to worry about Madi and what she’s going through without you, cursing yourself for not getting to her sooner and stopping her from leaving. You think about Gabriel and his final words to you, what they meant... You shake your head, clearing the spiral of memories and grief, shifting back to your safe topics, ignoring the thoughts that are begging to pull you down.

You only pause your pacing once, when Clarke and Gaia come out of the decontamination room and take up a spot on the ramp, sitting across from each other cross legged, Gaia talking to your twin softly. You resume your pacing, glancing at them every few minutes, realizing that Gaia must be teaching Clarke to calm her mind the way she taught Madi to.

But Clarke’s peace is short lived, and within minutes she’s standing, her voice rising as she glares down at Gaia. “How do you expect me to focus right now when my daughter is out there, probably being tortured right now?”

“You think I don't know that?” Gaia stands abruptly, and you pause your pacing to watch them. She gives Clarke an anguished look, her voice dropping slightly when she adds, “I love her too, Clarke.”

A look of sympathy passes over Clarke’s face before she reaches out and pulls the former Flamekeeper into a hug. “I know, I know, I'm sorry.”

You’re about to start pacing again, the conflict seemingly resolved, when you catch a glimpse of green around Clarke. She pulls away from Gaia, her hands starting to disappear, and she turns to look at you with a smile. “It's working.”

Clarke disappears in a haze of emerald, leaving you to turn and look at Octavia, “I’m next.”

Miller yells out to you, “La lune, catch!”

You turn towards him, catching the pistol he tosses your way, seconds before you too fade away from the bunker. All around you, the world is green, bright and hazy, until it fades into a darker hue. It takes a second for you to realize that you’re not in the Stone Room, but in the oxygen farm, surrounded by an army of disciples, all of them pointing weapons right at you and Clarke. You raise the pistol that Miller tossed to you, you and Clarke aiming back at the disciples, and Octavia appears a second later, instantly lifting her rifle.

A disciple near the font of the armed group looks towards you and loudly yells, “Drop your weapons! Hands in the air!”

Octavia drops her weapon first, lifting her hands in surrender, and you and Clarke exchange a look before you both follow suit. Despite not wanting to surrender to the disciples, you both know you have no choice, and if you choose to take a stand here, it will only result in the three of you ending up dead. So you both drop your weapons and lift your hands in the air, following the commands of the disciples as they close in on you. The three of you are restrained and led past the waiting army, through the oxygen farm and the halls of Bardo until you’re delivered to a cell.

They release all three of you in one room, and you stand there for a minute, stunned by what just happened. “Why did we show up in the oxygen farm?”

Clarke shakes her head, “I don't know. But they’re preparing for a war, which means they have Madi and she’s in trouble.”

She plops down onto the nearest bed in frustration, dropping her head into her hands before she starts to softly cry. Octavia sits down beside her, offering her comfort, the moment soon overshadowed by someone singing. And not just someone, Sheidheda. He sings the Grounder Anthem, “Take a Life With Me”, over and over on a loop, until there is no sadness left in your prison cell, only frustration.

You take up pacing again as nothing you do drowns out the awful, annoying sound, which continues repeatedly, until you’re sure you’re about to lose your mind. You can sense Clarke growing tense too, her body starting to fidget more and more until she finally yells out, “Shut up!”

But Sheidheda doesn't shut up, he just keeps singing without a care in the world. Clarke looks at you with worry and frustration, her eyes wide, her nerves frazzled. “We did all that just to end up back here, locked up in a cell next to Sheidheda.”

“We'll get Madi back.” You don’t say anything beyond that, your anger at her now back in full force now that you’re back in Bardo, but you do let out a sigh, frustrated that your emotions are so all over the place. You wonder what Anders would say about you now, watching you pace the room like a caged animal, angry and frustrated and ready to destroy Bardo if you have to.

You’re pulled back to the present by Clarke sighing loudly, looking doubtful about your assurance of finding Madi, which Octavia notices. She puts a hand on Clarke’s knee, whose gaze shifts over to the younger Blake. “Think about it: someone brought us here. That means we have help on the inside, it's just a matter of time.”

Clarke nods, contemplating her words, realizing the truth to them, and she’s quiet for a moment before whispering, “Thank you.”

Something about her tone makes you pause, and you stop in front of her as Clarke’s gaze shifts between you and Octavia. “Both of you. Thank you for offering to come.”

Octavia answers first, “I told you I get it now, what she means to you. It's what Hope means to me.”

“It's what we meant to Bellamy.” Clarke and Octavia look towards you, the mood dampening the way it does when you all remember that Bellamy is gone, for real this time. You’re surprised you even said it, and you have to fight against the tears that are threatening to rise, glancing between the two women you call sister. “We were everything to him.”

Octavia whispers, “That's how I'll remember him.”

Clarke reaches out to grab your hand and you let her, before she reaches for Octavia’s hand too, the three of you sitting together as a small human chain, mourning the loss of Bellamy. And as the three of you mourn, tears streaming down your faces, the door to your cell opens. Clarke and Octavia stand beside you and turn to see Levitt hovering near the entrance, smiling at Octavia. She moves towards him, and as the pair hugs, you get a flash of disappointment. Part of you hoped that it would be Bellamy here to save you, despite seeing his body bleeding out on the palace floor in Sanctum. Something you remind yourself of as Clarke mutters, “Hate to interrupt, but we need to get to Madi. What’s the plan?”

Levitt and Octavia pull apart, and he looks between the three of you, growing anxious. “I don't know. Isn't this your guys' specialty? How would you do it?”

Octavia thinks for a second and then says, “Use the suits, go invisible.”

“No, that won't work. Too many disciples with helmets around.”

Clarke shrugs, “Then we come in hot, and we take them all out.”

You shake your head, instantly disagreeing. If the disciples are preparing for a war, then Clarke’s right. Madi is in danger now. You have no doubt that you, Clarke, and Octavia could come in and take the disciples out with ease, but how long will that give you? Five minutes? Ten? It’s loud and it’s messy, and it’ll put a target on your backs. You need a distraction, something to pull the disciples away from M-Cap, giving the four of you time to find Madi and get her to safety. You search your brain for a different plan, struggling to come up with anything, thanks to Sheidheda’s obnoxious singing.

And that’s when it comes to you.

You look between the three of them, smiling, pointing to the room next door. “Or we create a distraction.”

Realization passes over each of their faces, and you know you’re all on the same page. “Good idea.”

Levitt heads to the door of your cell and reaches for a bag that he left behind, tossing each of you a gun before leading you from your room and to the next cell over. He quickly pulls the door scanner from the wall, attaching a few wires to a tablet from his bag and typing in a code. He removes the tablet and tucks it away before reattaching the scanner and pushing the button. The door to Sheidheda’s cell slides open, and you, Clarke, and Octavia go in weapons hot, aiming directly at the man in the room. He stops singing when he hears your entrance, turning slowly to look at the three of you glaring in anger, Levitt waiting just behind you. “Well, since no one's shooting, I suppose that means you need me.”

He laughs a little and stands to his feet, musing, “What would Madi think?”

Clarke lowers her gun and lunges at him, intending to hit him, but you reach out and grab her arm to stop her. “Clarke!��

Sheidheda laughs, looking you over, taking in your bandages and the blood that’s still on your face, a mix of Gabriel’s and your own. “I got the doctor good, didn't I? Tell me, did he make it?”

And this time, it’s your turn to lunge, dropping Clarke’s arm and reaching for the man, seeing only red, your anger raw with grief. But Octavia grabs you, pulling you back, yelling out, “That’s enough, all of you! We need to stop Cadogan.”

You take a breath, calming yourself, aware that you need the man in front of you to save your niece and stop Cadogan from winning. Which means, for now, you’ll play alongside him. But if he makes it out of here and you get the chance, you’ll kill him for what he did to Gabriel and Madi.

Sheidheda shrugs at Octavia’s words, growling a little, “I tried, and for my troubles, they locked me up here.”

Clarke doesn't care, blowing past his complaint to snap, “Here's the deal. I'd love to kill you, but you're right, we need you. We set you loose, and you draw the disciples away from M-Cap.”

“I'm not some petty distraction. I'm the high king of Sanctum.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, Your Highness. Then we walk out of here and lock the door behind us.”

He sneers at you, giving you an annoyed smile. “Hmm, distraction it is.”

You motion towards the door with your gun. “Then let’s go.”

Levitt leads the way to M-Cap, the rest of you keeping your guns trained on Sheidheda, but you stop when you reach the last few hallways to your destination. You can hear people nearby, likely standing guard or prepping for the war, and you motion towards Sheidheda as you all duck out of sight. He smiles before he steps away, and you can hear the moment he catches sight of the disciples. “Attention, sheep. I'm here to kill your Shepherd.”

You can hear one of the guards yelling commands, followed immediately by the sounds of fighting. Gunshots ring out in the air, accented by screams of pain, but you all stay hidden in a nearby corridor until the sounds grow fainter and fainter, Sheidheda clearing the halls ahead of you. Once you hear no more fighting, you tentatively slip from your hiding spot and walk down the hall, rounding the corner to find blood splashed along the walls and dead bodies scattered everywhere. You shake your head at the violent scene in front of you, thinking that surely Sheidheda didn’t need to be so brutal. Still, he got the job done, because there’s no one in sight to stop your approach.

Unfortunately, there is also no sign of Sheidheda. “He's not here?”

Clarke turns to look back at Octavia. “We knew that was a possibility, we'll deal with Sheidheda later.”

Levitt looks around at the bodies littering the floor, carefully stepping around dark red puddles of blood, his voice horrified when he whispers, “I grew up with these people.”

“That's war, Levitt.” Octavia turns to glance at him, offering him no sympathy for the horror he’s experiencing. “It looks exciting in hologram mode, but this is the reality.”

Clarke shakes her head, grabbing a few grenades as she walks past the bodies, barely glancing back at the couple as she continues on her way. “Come on. Right now, all that matters is getting to Madi.”

You all follow her down the halls towards M-Cap, your guns raised, ready for a fight with each new hallway you turn down. But you find no one, this section of Bardo completely empty, everyone gone in pursuit of Sheidheda. “Looks like our diversion worked.”

As you reach the door to M-Cap, Clarke nods towards it. “Levitt, you go in first. They won't see you as a threat.”

He nods, and Octavia quickly pushes the button to the room, and as the door slides open, you all get into position and step inside behind Levitt. The first thing you notice is that someone is humming, the tune comforting and familiar. The second thing you notice is Madi, sprawled out in the M-Cap chair, someone’s arms around her. And when that someone looks up, you swear you’re dreaming.

Because it looks like Bellamy.

“Bellamy?” You freeze in place, the gun in your hand clattering to the floor as you stare at him in shock. He looks up at all of you, his expression surprised, clearly not expecting to see you here. He’s out of the white robes and into a white top and bottom combo, the same thing that Gabriel used to wear, and you’re relieved to see no blood on his clothes. He looks a little tired, and his curly hair is unruly, flopped all over the place, but he looks fine. Healthy even, no sign that he was recently dead.

Clarke seemingly breezes past the fact that Bellamy is alive and well, her gaze solely focused on Madi, and he releases his hold on her to allow Clarke the room to take over. He stands, looking at you closely, his expression blank for a moment, and you worry that he’s even more brainwashed than the last time you saw him. But then his expression morphs into one of relief, and he steps around the M-Cap chair to walk towards you. “La lune.”

His voice is warm and thick with affection and emotion, and you start to run towards him, tears welling up in your eyes as he jogs towards you. He meets you halfway across the room, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you once, before putting your feet firmly back on the ground, his arms holding you tight. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, and you can hear him crying as he whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never betrayed you. I should’ve listened to you.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pull away to look at him, tears running down his face and your own, and you whisper, “I love you. Oh my god, I love you, and I'm sorry I left you. I didn't want to, but-”

He cuts you off, “No, you were right to leave me. And you were right about Cadogan.”

It’s like the words remind him of something, and he turns to look at the others. “Levitt, something is wrong with Madi. Cadogan did something to her.”

You all turn to look at him in shock. “What?”

Levitt immediately crosses the room to grab the glasses that the disciples use for M-Cap, and for the first time since grabbing her, Clarke pulls away from Madi, realizing that Bellamy’s right, something is wrong with her. You miss the reunion between the Blake siblings as you rush over to your niece, though you can hear them quietly talking behind you. You look down at Madi in horror, catching onto what Bellamy meant. Madi’s eyes are open, but her expression and her eyes are blank, no sign of recognition in either of them. Her heartbeat is strong, but her body is limp, moving only when one of you moves her.

Clarke looks at you with tears in her eyes, and you feel tears in your own, both of you starting to cry as Clarke turns her teary expression back to Madi. “Madi, look at me. Say something. Please say something.”

Madi remains frozen, and Clarke lets out a panicked yell, “Say something!”

But still, Madi doesn't move, and Clarke pulls her into her arms, holding her tight as she sobs, rocking her back and forth, “Oh, my baby. My baby. My baby.”

You start to cry harder, not wanting to hear or see Clarke’s heartbreak, not wanting to see Madi’s blank expression, but you can't look away. You don't look away when you feel Bellamy slide up beside you, slipping his hand into your own, you don't look away when you hear Octavia and Levitt talking quietly behind you. You keep your eyes on your little sun and your shining star, unable to do anything other than cry at the scene before you.

Clarke lays Madi back down, before turning her teary face back to you, her eyes landing on Bellamy in the process. You see surprise pass over her face, meaning she really didn't register his presence when you all stepped into the room. But her surprise turns to anger as she glares at him, “What happened? What did he do to her?”

Bellamy shakes his head, looking just as upset as the rest of you, tears streaming down his face too. “I don’t know. When I heard she was here, I came looking for her immediately. She was like this when I found her. Cadogan was already gone.”

“You said you’d keep her safe!”

Bellamy stutters a little, his voice thick with emotion. “I tried, Clarke, but I woke up in a hospital bed. I left as soon as I heard she was here, but it must have been hours after her arrival by that point.”

Clarke’s expression turns horrified as she takes in the weight of his words. He got to her as soon as he could to try to help her. But the reason it took him so long to reach her is because he was in a hospital bed. Put there by Clarke. You reach out for her, squeezing her shoulder to stop her train of thought. “Hey, hey, hey, this is not your fault. This is Cadogan’s fault.”

Bellamy whispers, “You couldn't have known.”

And though he doesn't outright say it, you know that his words are forgiveness. Bellamy offers his forgiveness to Clarke for shooting him, her anguish over Madi punishment enough. He offers her the olive branch, and it’s up to her to take it. Thankfully, she does, looking at Bellamy with genuine regret. “I shouldn't have shot you, Bellamy. I panicked, and didn't know what to do.”

“No, you were right to. I don't blame you for shooting me, it was part of a wake up call for me. La lune giving me back her ring, you shooting me, finding Madi like this, they all woke me up to the truth about Cadogan: he’s a monster. A psychopath obsessed with being worshipped, just like he was on Earth.”

And everything is simultaneously okay and not okay, because the confession is big, but none of you get the time to respond to it, because Octavia steps up beside Clarke, looking between all of you. “She can hear you. She knows you're here.”

Clarke nods and turns back towards Madi, trying to hide her tears as she smiles. “Hey, baby, I'm here. I'm right here.”

You lean down into Madi’s line of sight, doing the same to mask your hurt as you whisper, “Hey there, little sun. Ani’s here too.”

Clarke turns to face Levitt, who’s still standing off to the side. “Is it recoverable?”

“What? I-” The question catches him off guard, not sure if he should answer, but after a second, he solemnly shakes his head. “No. The areas of her brain responsible for voluntary movement have been destroyed. I'm sorry.”

The words make all of you start to cry harder, now faced with the reality that Cadogan has paralyzed Madi permanently in the pursuit of transcendence. It's enough to make you sick to your stomach. But that feeling only intensifies as Clarke glances off to the side, where her discarded pistol now lays, and after a moment of thought, she leans down to get it. You know exactly what she’s thinking because you know her better than she knows herself, and you shake your head, your voice soft and firm. “Clarke, no.”

She starts to cry harder, her hands shakily lifting the gun, determined to do what she thinks is right for Madi. But the sight breaks your heart, as Clarke can barely hold the gun steady, too overcome with emotion. Your twin that has bore it so the rest of you don't have to is breaking, and you know you need to be there for her. Which is why you drop Bellamy’s hand and reach out for the gun. “I’ll do it.”

She looks at you, expression heartbroken but hopeful, and you whisper, “I'm not letting you live with this.”

She nods a little, passing you the gun, which you take with now shaky hands. Clarke reaches out for Madi, putting a hand on either side of her face as she whispers, “I love you so much. Don't be scared, just listen to my voice, okay?”

And just like Bellamy was doing before all of you arrived, she starts to hum Clair de lune, ducking her head beside Madi’s so she can't see her tears. You lift the gun with a shaky hand, your own tears blurring your vision, aiming the pistol at her chest. But as you stare down at the blank expression of your little sun, you don't think you can do it, the burden too great for any of you to bear. You start to cry harder, a sob escaping from your chest, and Clarke looks over at you, nodding a little, letting you know that it’s okay, it’s time.

But you can’t. You stare down at Madi’s face, reminded of the girl that couldn't speak English when you met her, who caught Clarke with a bear trap. The little girl you taught how to drive, how to fight. The girl who inspired an army to fight for Shallow Valley. You shake your head a little, unable to do it, your hand starting to lower again. But then Bellamy reaches out and closes his hand over your own. You look back at him, and he looks at you, tears falling down his face as he whispers, “Together.”

You nod, and the two of you turn to face Madi, lifting the gun to aim right over her heart. And as your finger lifts to the trigger, Bellamy’s finger poised over your own, ready to help you, you whisper, “I love you, little sun.”

But before the two of you can pull the trigger, Levitt suddenly calls out, “No, he got the code!”

You pause and you all turn towards him in shock, and he catches sight of the gun in your hand, suddenly apologetic. “Oh, God. Oh, I'm sorry.”

Octavia asks, “The test code? Are you sure?”

“Hologram mode.”

He enlarges the memory so you can all see, watching as Becca’s fingers press the symbols on the Anomaly Stone, the room glowing in white before the memory ends. Clarke shifts her gaze from the memory down to Madi, her heartbreak giving way to hard anger. “He got what he needed and left her here?”

The words hit all of you right in the chest. This man that is so determined to transcend, to prove that humans are worthy, paralyzed a child to do it, and then left her alone. Bellamy was right when he called Cadogan a monster, and you can feel Wanlida smiling as she steps into view. “We have to stop him.”

Octavia starts, “If one man represents the entire human race-”

Bellamy finishes, “It can't be him.”

Levitt nods, looking between all of you. “We can still stop him, but we have to go now.”

Everyone seems to silently agree, and you and Clarke turn back to Madi. Clarke puts her hand on Madi’s cheek, and you reach out to squeeze Madi’s hand. Clarke whispers, “I'll come back. I'll be back after we stop the test, and I promise I will not let him win.”

She presses a kiss to Madi’s forehead, and leans back so you can add, “We’re going to stop him, Madi, and we’re going to fix this. I promise. Bill Cadogan thinks he’s unstoppable, but he’s never met Wanheda and Wanlida.”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch21: Shards Of A Broken Soul

Summary: Katie is finally reunited with Steve, Tony and the rest of the Avengers, and the extent of her injuries become clear. Can Steve push his own feelings of anger and inadequacy to one side enough to help her focus on getting better?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language, injuries, mentions of rape. Avoid if these upset you. Smut (NSFW) 18+

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: @angrybirdcr you are the best image provider EVER!!!

Chapter 20

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Both Tony and Steve were anxious, Bruce could tell. He also noticed the Soldier’s knuckles were angry and bleeding. Standing up, he headed to the back of the jet to check the medical equipment. It was fully stocked as much as could be, and picking up an ice pack and some gauze he headed over to Steve and tapped his shoulder.

“Thanks.” Steve took the gauze and wiping at his split knuckles before applying the ice pack “Be fine in a coupla hours”

“Tony, you wanna switch out?” Bruce asked, “I can fly if you…” “No, I got it, besides…” he said turning his seat and gesturing to the ‘Jarvis is my co-pilot’ sticker that Katie had gotten him a while back as a joke, which was stuck to the control panel “As the sign says, its JARVIS doing it really not me…I’m just supervising.” “So, I hate to ask…” Bruce said.

“Then don’t” Tony looked at him fiercely and Steve sighed.

“None of us want to hear it Tony but…” he took a deep breath “we need to be prepared…did they say how she was hurt or…” Tony ran his hand over his face, stroking his less-groomed than normal goatee “They said she was bruised, quite severely, her left hand is in a bad way…” Steve let out a low growl at that, and his right hand flew to his sweat pants pockets, which he unzipped and ran his hands across the smooth metal and stones. Her rings had been with him ever since they’d been returned by Coulson “…and she’s in and out of consciousness, has a nasty cough, but other than that…” Tony trailed off. “Ok.” Bruce stood up, “I’ll prep what I can to make her comfy until we get her home.”

The 2 hour flight to the airfield seemed to take an eternity, but finally JARVIS announced they were approaching and shortly after they touched down. Steve was out of his seat before the plane had landed, and half jumped off the ramp before it was fully down and Tony wasn’t far behind. Bruce opted to stay behind with the jet and Steve knew it was because the gentle man didn’t want to intrude on what was going to be an emotional reunion.

The man waiting was a huge guy. Huge. Taller than Steve and equally as wide, but with the figure of a once welt built man that had slightly gone to seed. His eyes were a warm hazel and he gave of a friendly aura.

“Captain Rogers, Mr Stark.” The man greet them on the tarmac of the airfield as the various ATC staff bustled around, heading to the jet where they were greeted by Bruce.

“Sergeant Matkinson?” Tony asked, shaking the large hand extended to him in greeting.

“No, sorry Matkinson is the one who called you. I’m Dave Bellamy, the Duty Inspector.”

He turned as Steve and Tony followed him towards the waiting car. “I gotta admit, this wasn’t what I expected when I came in today.” “Has she said anything about…” Steve began as they approached the car, but the man shook his head.

“Other than asking for you and refusing to go to Hospital she hasn’t said much at all.” he said, stopping to open the driver’s side door. Steve climbed in next to him and Tony settled in the back. “The on duty medic has cleaned her up as best she could, but she got a bit hysterical at one point when she woke up. She calmed down as soon as she realised she was safe. She did mutter something about the leather jacket we found her with and her needing to keep it as it belonged to a friend but other than that she hasn’t said much at all.” Steve frowned and looked at Tony, the pair of them exchanging a puzzled look. “A friend?” Steve turned to the officer who fired up the sirens and pulled off with a screech of tires.

“Yeah.” Bellamy nodded “We figured that whoever broke her out gave it to her, on account of her having nothing else to keep her warm but all we know is that car was taken in Collorado. And someone drove it up here and dumped it with her in the back. Whoever it was, wanted her found and safe.”

No one spoke for a while until Bellamy chipped in again. “We tried to give her some food and a warm drink but she just stared at it, like it was going to poison her or something. She looks a lot better than she did when we found her on account of her being cleaned up but she’s still…” he shrugged “Well, the sooner you can call get her some proper medical attention the better.

"And you didn’t call a doctor?” Tony bit out.

“Of course we did Mr Stark.” Bellamy sighed, his tone a little annoyed “We called an ambulance but when the paramedics arrived she went crazy. And I mean, crazy. In the end we sent them away. Like I say, she let our medic, Sarah, look at her but…” he trailed off and once more the car felt silent.

With the sirens going it didn’t take them long to arrive. Steve walked into the station through the rear entrance with a lump in his throat, which got bigger every time he thought about what state his girl was going to be in. But she was there. In this building. Ignoring the obvious looks that Captain America and Tony Stark attracted in the busy corridors of the small station, he followed the large Inspector to a room and the Inspector nodded, opening the door.

“She said the light hurt her eyes.” The Inspector said by way of explanation as Steve and Tony stepped into the room. It smelt clean, slightly clinical and was dimly lit. Steve blinked, his vision adjusting to the lower level of lighting and saw Katie was led on the little medical bench. At the sound of voices she raised her head to look at the door.

“Oh Jesus…” Tony muttered, his hand flying to his mouth, turning away clearly unable to look at her battered form any longer than he had to. But Steve remained still, his chest heaving as his eyes focussed on her face as she looked at him, almost as if she couldn’t see him. He swallowed as nothing but utter relief washed over him, drowning out the initial flicker of anger he’d seen at the state she was in. The medic may have cleaned her face but her hair was a tangle of dirt and dried blood. The entire left side of her gaunt face was a mass of bruises, some faded and yellow, some new and angry. There was a raised line of pink to the left side of her mouth where a cut had healed, another large one down the side of her right temple, a deep slash over the bridge of her nose which looked to be on its way to healing and Steve’s eyes then flew to her hand which was bent out of shape so badly.

As Katie blinked, the two men came into focus. She noticed her brother, his face was utterly broken and then she looked at her soldier, and the first thing she saw was the growth of stubble on his handsome face that was well on its way to being a beard. His eyes, his brilliant ocean blues were dull with pain, worry, fright but there was nothing on his face but relief.

They were both there, the two most important men in her life, the men that had always made her feel safe and loved, and the emotion crashed over her in a huge surge. Katie felt her face crumple up as she spoke softly “Stevie…” “Oh, Doll.” his voice cracked as he crossed the room, dropping onto the bench besides her and pulling her into his arms. His touch was familiar and comforting, she couldn’t remember how long it has been since he held her. She wound her arms around his waist, her face pushing into his chest as she began to cry.

He held her tight as he pressed his face into her hair. It was dirty but he didn’t care. “Sweetheart, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry we didn’t…we didn’t…” his words trailed off as they were replaced by a choking sob as his tears began to fall whilst he simply sat there, his arms around her. She felt small, much smaller than normal, and as his hands gently rubbed up her back and he gave a horrified swallow as he realised he could feel her spine. He took a shaky breath and loosened his grip ever so slightly and he looked up as Tony crossed the room, wiping the tears from his face as he sat on the other side of the bed and gently sat next to her. She pushed away from Steve slightly to look up at her brother.

“Hey Kiddo.” he croaked out “Place has gone to shit without you.” She let out a little jerk of a laugh as he reached out and tenderly cupped her face.

“Take me home.” she said, the tears pricking into her eyes as she pressed her face once more into Steve’s chest, his warm, familiar, comforting chest.

“Of course doll,” he choked out, looking up at Tony who wiped at his face again. “Of course.”

******

“Hi Bruce…” Katie managed to stutter when Steve carried her onto the jet, Tony doing the thankyous to the officer who had driven them back, handing Tony the leather jacket that Katie had made a huge fuss about not leaving without for some reason, but there was plenty of time to dig into that later.

“Hey Nova.” he smiled softly, as Steve set her down on the medical bench at the back. He kept her right hand in his, gently kissing her knuckles as Bruce took her in. He looked up at Steve who swallowed and nodded, understanding and the Doctor looked at Katie. “I’m just gonna take a look at you, that ok?” Katie had to stop herself from laughing “It aint gonna be pretty” she said, before she started coughing again, scrunching herself up at the pain and Steve’s hand gently dropped to her head as he crouched besides her.

“She’s running a temp.” he looked at Bruce who nodded.

“Probably an infection.” he surmised “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll get you patched up and back to normal in no time.” he said as he gently hiked up the hoody they’d given her at the station.

“Told you.” she said, clocking the look on his face as he tried, but failed, to hide the gasp of shock and horror. Steve glanced over and his face paled at the mass of bruising on her sides. He could see her ribs, her hips. He knew she’d lost weight but this…

“I dunno when I last ate. Didn’t trust them.” She muttered as she lay back. Steve dropped a kiss to her forehead as Tony joined them.

“Well, on top of the obvious you’re probably a little malnourished.” Bruce sighed, as he leant to listen to her breathing with a stethoscope before letting out a small hum and a nod “Yeah, you have a nasty chest infection…and that hand is gonna need looking at.” “She gonna be ok?” Tony demanded as Bruce moved him out of the way to gather up some supplies. The jet was kitted out for quick missions, nothing like this, but he found what he was looking for.

“She is here.” Katie mumbled and Tony arched an eyebrow.

“Brat.” She let out a small smile and Steve dropped a kiss to her forehead, allowing himself a little chuckle at the fact her sassiness hadn’t been beaten out of her.

Beaten out of her. Jesus.

He straightened up, once more the tears stinging his eyes and looked away, composing himself.

“Once we’re home I can start you on some IV anti-biotics and glucose.” Bruce said, drawing something into a syringe. “But right now I’m going to give you something for the pain, which should help you sleep too.”

She nodded as Bruce gently rolled up the sleeve on her top, Steve letting out an angry growl at the finger marks there along with the marks on her wrists from restraints, and Bruce pushed the needle into her arm. Once he was done, Bruce readjusted her hoody for her and Tony gently placed a blanket over her, smoothing a hand over her head.

“I’ll get us in the air.” he said, and Bruce nodded.

“Sooner we get home the better.”

It wasn’t long before Katie felt her eyes drooping.

“Stevie, I’m so tired.” she mumbled and he leaned over, kissing her head.

“Then sleep.” he said gently, his hand stroking her dirty hair “I’ll be right here.”

And this time, as she drifted off into the darkness, the last thing she saw were those blue eyes, and the last thing she felt was her man’s hand gently caressing her hair in the way that always soothed her.

*****

Katie was still out of it when they arrived back, Steve not once moving from her side the entire flight back and as soon as the jet had landed, they were greeted by the rest of the Avengers plus Sam, Rhodey and Pepper. As Banner wheeled the gurney down the ramp, Steve walking along side it, holding her hand, Thor’s face contorted in rage at the sight of his friend and there was loud clap of thunder which made them all jump. Clint gently patted his back as he swallowed.

“She gonna be ok?” It was Rhodey who spoke first as they wheeled her past, the sight of the little girl who he’d seen grown up looking so badly beaten and frail made him sick as Banner wheeled her past, Steve not even acknowledging the rest of the team as they passed.

“She’s not in a great way but…” Tony sighed as Pepper strolled over to give him a hug, her eyes brimming with tears “Bruce thinks she’ll recover physically, it’s the mental trauma I’m worried about.”

“She’s strong.” Natasha said, wrapping her arms around herself. “A lot stronger than we give her credit for.” Clint gently rubbed at her back as she turned to him, blinking back tears. He pulled her in for a hug which she took, pressing her face into her best friend’s shoulder.

“Any idea on how she escaped?” Sam asked.

“No.” Tony looked at him “Not that it matters, main thing is she’s here.” he turned to Nat and Clint as the red head stepped back and turned to face him. “Cap was on about someone going back to check out where she was held…you wanna get on it?”

Clint nodded but Nat hesitated slightly. She was unnerved by the emotion she had felt upon seeing Katie and didn’t want to leave her. Sam instantly picked up on it and he turned to Clint. “I’ll come.” “And me.” Thor growled, the vein in his temple twitched slightly.

Clint nodded at the two men and Tony inclined his head to the jet. “JARVIS has the co-ords.”

With that he turned and the arm that wasn’t around Pepper gently draped over Natasha’s shoulder, giving her a quick squeeze before they headed inside, followed by Rhodey.

******

It was a good few hours before Katie came round again. When she did she sat bolt upright, panic flooding her system, a loud scream bubbling from her throat.

“Hey, hey…” she heard a voice and a gentle hand round hers and she took a panicked breath, instantly scrambling away across the bed as she felt it dip besides her. “Sweetheart, it’s ok…”

That voice. It was Steve. Her soldier.

At that realisation she instantly calmed, as she turned to face him.

“You’re safe, you’re home…” he smiled softly, his hand gently cupping her battered face as she looked at him, swallowing.

“Sorry, I was a little out of it, thought I was still…” she trailed off, looking down at the warm, clean, comfortable sheets and blankets she was wrapped in. “You’ve nothing to apologise for.” Steve sighed, “If anything I’m sorry…sorry we didn’t find you sooner. We tried…” he hung his head slightly “God did we try…” “Stop it, you idiot.” She squeezed his hand “This is not on you. It isn’t on anyone other than Hydra…” “Huh…” Tony spoke as he walked into the room “Not what Cap was saying when he broke Fury’s nose.” “You didn’t?” Katie looked at him as Steve gave a small groan.

“Oh he did.” Tony said, pulling up a chair at side of the bed next to where Steve was sat by Katie, and turning it round so he was perched straddling the seat, his arms crossing over the back as he leant forward “Made a terrific noise.” “Did J record it?” She asked and Steve groaned again.

“Oh you bet he did.” Tony smirked “I’m intending on using it as a warning to everyone about what happens when Spangles loses his shit. Not to mention the amount of punchbags, doors, walls and windows we’ve had to replace or repair…”

“Is this really necessary?” Steve sighed and Katie grinned.

“It’s very necessary.” she said seriously and Steve snorted, shaking his head. “What did you punch Fury for?” Steve ran his hand over his face and scratched his chin, he really did need a shave. “Because he was lying to us again. SHIELD knew that Sceptre had gone missing and if they had warned us then Hydra might not have targeted you specifically.” “You mean they would have taken someone else?” She narrowed her eyes at him. He fell silent.

“I tried.” Tony said softly, I tried to get them to take me, but they…” “Ok, enough.” she said, a little louder and both men looked at her. “This stops, right now, the pair of you. I can’t cope with the display of masculine self-pity.”

“It’s not self-pity…” Tony started, somewhat indignantly and she cut him off.

“I don’t care what you want to call it. But we stop now with the blame, ok? This was no-ones fault, no one but those motherfuckers who took me. And if I hear the word sorry come out of either of your mouths again in relation to this, as soon as I’m well enough to I’m going to kick both your assess…”

At that point Bruce swept back into the room, smiling softly at her. “Can I take it from the threats you’re issuing that you’re feeling a little better?” “A bit” she nodded. “Still, not great but I don’t feel as faint anymore, and my head doesn’t feel as full of cotton wool.” “Your blood sugar levels will be picking up.” Bruce smiled as he nodded to the needle in the crook of her arm which she hadn’t noticed and began to explain to her “I’ve started you on a low dose of glucose and some antibiotics to fight that chest infection, which was my first concern. You’re malnourished but I’m afraid there’s no actual food for a while, couple of days we can look at introducing nutrients orally by liquids.”

Katie looked at Steve and smiled “Know what I need?” He smiled back “Ma’s Chicken soup?” “Damned right.” she grinned “That stuff was magic when I had a cold” “I’ll make you all the soup you want.” he said, gently, his hand running over her forehead. No one stated the obvious, that she had much more than a fucking cold going on.

“And then when I can I’m gonna eat the biggest portion of Mac and Cheese I can manage” she sighed “And a cheeseburger…” “Extra pickle, chilli fries, vanilla milkshake and a slice of apple pie” Steve and Tony recited her order perfectly and she grinned.

“Preferably all from the Diner round the corner.” she said with a decisive nod.

“Well, as soon as Bruce says its ok that’s what you can have” Tony said gently “For now let’s just concentrate on getting you healthy again.” “I hate to beak this up, I really do…” Bruce said, and he did. Seeing them reunited warmed his soul, but he needed to dig into what was going on. “But now you’re awake I need to run some tests, do a few scans. I can’t see any signs of internal bleeding or anything but I want to be 100% what’s going on.”

Katie nodded “Other than my ribs and my hand…” she trailed off and looked down at her left hand which was misshapen but wasn’t as sore as it had been on account of the fact Bruce had expertly bound it to give it some support. “They took my rings…” she said softly, before looking at her right hand this time “They broke my fingers, and took my fucking rings, bastards…” The thought of anyone breaking any bone in her body alighted a fire of anger in Steve’s chest, but he gave a small smile as he shook his head “Coulson found them.” he said, reaching into his pocket. He held them out to her and her eyes started to water.

“I thought I’d lost them…” “Baby they’re not important.” Steve shook his head “Lumps of metal and stone…but you…” he swallowed “Anyway, doesn’t matter, they’re here.”

“Gonna be a while before I can wear it again huh?” she gently ran her hand over the shape of her engagement ring which lay in Steve’s palm before she looked up at Bruce who gave her a sad nod.

“’Fraid so.”

“Not this one.” Steve held up her emerald and she grinned, gleefully holding out her right hand for him to slip it back on her finger before placing a kiss just above it.

“I’ll keep the other one safe, promise.” Steve smiled.

She nodded, and held up her right hand looking at her emerald before she sighed, somewhat happily, and then she frowned.

“Hang on, how did Coulson find them?” she looked at Steve. “They were in the first place you were held.” Tony said “It’s a long story but SHIELD got a tip off about an abandoned base being back in use and they raided it, but they were too late. You’d gone.” “I don’t even remember them moving me.” she sighed, and Bruce shook his head.

“Amnesia is common when you’ve been through some kind of trauma.” he said “Your mind’s way of coping.” Katie lay her head back on the pillow. “Pity I remember everything else they did. Well, mostly…”

Steve shook his head “Don’t think on any of that. You’re safe now, and I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” “Well that’s gonna be awkward when I need the bathroom.” she looked at him and he played along, pausing as if he was pondering something.

“Ok, well maybe I’ll just wait outside and listen to you pee instead.” “Kinky fucker.” she shot back causing him to snort a laugh. Thankfully the scans and tests showed nothing more serious than 6 broken ribs, 3 of which were well on their way to healing, a slight tear in the intercostal muscle between two and a small tear in her spleen which again, Bruce was pleased to see was also repairing.

“You’re normally fit and healthy.” he explained “So your body shouldn’t have an issue repairing itself, granted not as fast as Cap’s but…”

“Well we can’t all be Super Soldiers.” she shrugged.

“What is slightly more concerning is that hand.” Bruce said. “the bones have started to set, and they’re not realigned correctly and I’m worried about long term damage. So I’ve made a call to Helen Cho, the geneticist I told you all about that I met at the Convention a few months back. She’s going to fly in with an old colleague of hers, a Dr Wang Xui Ying…” Katie and Tony both snorted, because Wang, exchanging a gleeful look and Steve rolled his eyes at their blatant childishness, but he wasn’t really bothered. It was good to see.

“Yeah yeah…” Bruce shook his head, a smirk dancing on his face “For obvious reasons he goes by his middle name in the Western world…anyway, he’s a leading Orthopaedic surgeon. I’ve sent him your X-Ray results and he says he can fix it, but it’s going to need an operation. And I don’t want to put you under any form of anaesthetic until you’re stronger.” “How long?” Steve asked and Katie bit back a smile at his demanding nature.

“If you’re vitals keep improving then maybe 5 to 7 days.” Bruce said. “We’ll see how things go. They’re going to arrive over the weekend.” “I’ve wanted to meet this Dr Cho for a while, she sounds intriguing.” Tony nodded. “I’ll make sure he guest rooms are prepped.” Katie spent the rest of the day greeting her various visitors and flitting in and out of sleep, which was perfectly normal, so Bruce said. She woke later in the evening to Steve talking in a hushed voice to Clint, Sam and Thor, whilst Natasha, Bruce and Tony listened in, Rhodey who had to get back to work had left a few hours ago after popping in to see how Katie was doing the last time she had been awake.

“No idea.” Clint said as he finished giving Steve a debrief on what they had found, the Captain insisting they did it in the medical room, not wanting to leave Katie for a second if he could help it “Place was littered with bodies. Mostly gun shots, bar Jones, who we found in the cell they kept Nova in.”

“Yeah, he hadn’t been shot.” Sam said and he looked at Steve significantly “His neck was snapped, and when I say snapped, I mean crushed.”

“Good.” Natasha spat, and Steve had to say he was inclined to agree. He hoped the fucker had suffered, his only regret was he wouldn’t get to do it himself. And then the significance of what Sam had said hit him.

“Hang on, you say crushed?” Bruce asked and Clint nodded.

“Never seen anything like it Doc.” he shrugged “It was like someone had put him in a vice”

Sam looked at Steve whose eyes widened as his memory flicked back to the first HYDRA base they’d raided back in DC.

No, it couldn’t be…

“There was one man.” Thor continued and Steve looked at him “He was in the laboratory area. His death was an execution.” “Bullet, straight between the eyes.” Sam levelled Steve with another look. “It was just like in DC…” he made a gun shape with his fingers and held it at the top of his nose, miming the action.

“Do you think…” Steve started to ask and then a soft voice cut him off

“You know you could just ask me.” Katie spoke as she suddenly realised that no one had asked how she had escaped yet. The group all looked at her, breaking up their huddle to move towards her. Thor, Clint and Sam, who hadn’t seen her since she had woken up all came over to drop kisses onto her cheeks, her head and Clint gently brushed her head with his hand.

“Good to have you back Nova.” He smiled and she looked at him, his face soft with emotion.

“Good to be back.” she said before she sighed “So I suppose you all want to know how I got out?” “It’s been puzzling us a little.” Nat smirked.

She looked at Steve who took a seat back by her bed and then she told him just what he had suspected “It was Bucky.” Steve swallowed, and looked up at Sam.

“How?” Tony frowned, “And I mean I’m beyond glad he did Kiddo but what we he doing there? It makes no sense.”

“Yes it does.” Steve said, looking up “When we were tracking him we found the same thing in DC. Bodies all over the place, windpipes crushed, but one had been shot straight between the eyes. When we found the footage he was one of the men strapping him into the chair before they…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath, it still hurt to talk about it.

“We think Ol’ Frosty was on some kind of revenge rampage.” Sam shrugged “I expect if we run that Doctor we found in La Ronge through the system, we’ll find he was connected to the Winter Soldier programme in some way too.” “And Jones?” Clint asked “Think he might have been too?” Katie gave a snort “No, he was trying to make a run for it and was dragging me with him, but I’d heard the shots and knew whoever it was wasn’t HYDRA. I thought it might have been you guys so I was screaming, Bucky must have heard…he snapped his neck like it was a twig. Then he gave me his jacket and carried me out.” “So that’s why you were making such a fuss about it.” Steve looked at her. She shrugged.

“He saved my life. Figured the least I could do was save his jacket, in case we ever do find him again.”

Steve’s mind was whirring. He wanted to ask her so many more questions, had he said anything to her, had he recognised her, but he knew now that wasn’t important. Instead, he’d save it for later, when she was stronger. And he added it to the huge long list of times Bucky had bailed him out. Only this sat right at the top of things his best friend had done for him.

Right at the top. He felt her hand on his and he gave her a small smile, gently reaching over to kiss the top of her head and she smiled, looking around at the assembled crowd in the room.

“You know, they threatened to kill you all unless I told them what they thought I knew. And I laughed.” she said, shaking her head.“I mean, I’d have loved that. Them to meet you lot…”

Thor made a noise that was halfway between a snort and a growl “I would very much like to meet them too. So would my hammer.”

“Told you that you should have let me put an arrow through Ward’s head.” Clint crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Oh no.” She spat fiercely, and Steve was pleased to see there was a fire in her eyes “If anyone is putting a bullet between that fucker’s eyes it’s me. And I want him to see me when I do it.”

“Someone’s clearly feeling better.” Natasha smirked and Katie winked at her friend.

“Loads, thank God.” “You’re welcome.” Thor grinned and there were various chuckles around the room. Katie broke into a laugh which hastily descended into a coughing fit. As she took a sip of the water Steve offered her through the straw she glanced around, her eyes shining with humour.

“I love you guys!”

*******

Steve camped on the couch in the corner of the medical room for the next 2 nights, refusing to leave. He made sure Katie fell asleep in his arms as he curled up behind her whilst the sedative Bruce gave her to help her rest went to work, and she always woke up in his arms, but the pillow and the blanket on the couch were tell-tale signs that he camped there when he was satisfied she was in a dreamless sleep. Steve knew the nightmares were going to come at some point when the sedation was no longer being used, but they’d cross that bridge when they got there.

He’d finally been forced into going back to their floor for a shower, but first he decided to have a shave. He was glad to see his face looked a lot less tired, he certainly felt a lot less tired, having had the first two decent night’s sleep in weeks over the last 48 hours. Katie had told him all about Bucky, what he had said, how he had recognised her, carried her out and taken her to car, how she had tried to convince him to come back but he had refused, and she didn’t remember anything until waking up at the station in the back of the car. There wasn’t much to go on but Sam had departed at lunchtime the day before to follow up the leads. But as Katie had said, she didn’t think they’d see him for a while. Especially when Nat, who had been doing some digging, confirmed that all the men they had seen on the video strapping Bucky to the chair had been found, bullets between the eyes. With a sigh Steve wiped his face clear before turning on the shower. He was grateful to Bucky, he really was, but he couldn’t shake this horrible, hollow feeling of inadequacy that was balling in the pit of his stomach. He should have been the one rescuing his girl, and he’d failed. That said, as he stepped under the stream of scalding hot water he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact she was home, safe, and improving as each hour went by.

Katie could feel that she was improving too, although as she forced the last of the awful green concoction Bruce had given her to drink, she was seriously considering asking for her IV to go back in. The drink or smoothie or whatever it was, was fucking vile, but he’d assured her if she could manage it and her system didn’t reject it, then she could slowly start introducing different liquids into her system, starting with different nutrient packed juices and maybe, some soup. The thought of soup had never excited her as much in her life, but to be fair, Steve’s chicken soup was pretty damned tasty.

What was worse though, was the sheer boredom. At some point, whilst she was asleep, a huge flat screen TV had appeared on the wall, thanks to Tony as he had pointed out when he came to see her, and last night she’d curled up with Steve to watch the Wizard of Oz, but she was already going crazy led in the bed and she was desperate to get clean. She could still feel the dirt, and grime and them on her body. Steve had said he’d help her clean up when Bruce gave her the go ahead but she didn’t want him to. There was bound to be bruises on her thighs and she wasn’t ready for him to know about the fact they’d raped her. Not yet anyway.

As Natasha was sat with her, popping in as she did a lot during the day, she decided to take her chance whilst Steve was in their apartment.

“Bruce, I need a bath or something!” She whined “it’s been 48 hours… Look, I drank all that disgusting green shit you gave me…and I feel much better…”

Bruce groaned. “Look, I’m not sure…” “My hair and…” Katie sighed leaning back, tears pricking her eyes “please…” “Alright, but someone needs to be with you. The temperature change might cause your blood pressure to drop and you could pass out.” “Rogers can take her.” Nat nodded but Katie shook her head and looked at Nat.

“Can you?” “Me?” Nat frowned. She nodded and gave her a significant look, one Natasha could read instantly. There was something she wasn’t telling them. And as she looked into her friends eyes she had a horrible feeling she knew what. “Your hair?” She said, locking eyes with the brunette giving her an excuse and Katie nodded. “Alright. Bruce that ok with you? He sighed "fine. But not too hot, and you use the bathroom here on the medical floor.” Katie nodded and Steve chose that moment to walk back into the room.

“Hey handsome” she smiled and he dropped a kiss to her cheek as she pouted “You shaved.” “I told you, Captain America doesn’t have a beard” he chuckled. “You killed it. Murderer” He rolled his eyes. “Brucey says I can have a bath!” She said, almost excitedly “Can you go grab me some stuff? Toiletries, pyjamas, robe, towel?” Steve looked at her, then to Bruce "is that…” Bruce sighed. “It’s ok, yes. But just a short one and try not to get the bandages on that hand wet. They were fresh on this morning.” “Nat’s gonna help me” Katie said, looking at Steve. He frowned for a moment.

“I can do it.” he said, almost sullenly. She reached out with her good hand to squeeze his “It’s my hair. She can sort the tangles and braid it out of the way until I can get it cut…I think some of it might be beyond saving”

Steve looked at her, before he let out a sigh. "Alright. But at least let me help you to and from the bathroom?” She nodded and he looked at Nat who simply gazed back, her face passive.

As Steve gathered her things in their apartment, he tried not to take in personally that she didn’t want his help, he really did. It wasn’t like he knew how to braid her hair but she could always have done that once she was back in bed. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was pushing him away because she blamed him in some way. Blamed him for not finding her, for not being the one to help her. He grabbed her favourite pair of pyjamas, not just because they were her favourite, but because they were button up so would be easier for her to get on, and everything else she had asked for and headed back to the lab, and his worries temporarily flew from his mind when she smiled at him and held out her arms.

“Wanna carry me, Soldier?” Laughing he handed the items to Natasha and scooped her up easily into his arms as she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I love you.” she said softly and he smiled.

“Love you too, so damned much.” He said, deliberately exaggerating his Brooklyn drawl making her giggle, the sound music to his ears.

Natasha didn’t comment on the finger shaped bruising in between her legs and on the outside of her thighs when she helped her undress. Instead she’d handed Katie the wash cloth and soap so she could clean herself as best she could, and helped her reach the areas she couldn’t easily do like anything where she had to raise her arms too high. She’d washed her hair for her with infinite tenderness, telling her that she would get Pepper have a stylist to come and give it a cut soon. As instructed, Katie didn’t stay in the bath too long, the water was filthy so Natasha drained it and took the small shower attachment off the wall and carefully rinsed her off before helping her stand and wrapping her in a robe. Guiding her over to the small changing room off the side she gently sat on the bench in the middle as Nat carefully dried her hair. It was mass of split ends, brittle from the malnutrition and a fair bit of it fell out as Nat gently brushed it, but at least it was clean. "I want you to ask Pepper to call Dr Kellet my ob gyn.” Katie said gently, for the first time raising the issue “Tell her it’s just for a routine check- up after my less than adequate diet or something.”

Nat nodded. “Ok but you really should tell Steve”

“Not yet” Katie swallowed. “I can’t deal with more pity and sympathy. I don’t want anyone knowing. Not until…” she trailed off, tears forming in her eyes as Natasha gently braided her damp hair “Let me get some shred of dignity back please.”

Nat kissed the top of head in a rare display of affection and nodded before grabbing the pyjamas Steve had brought down for her, laughing as she looked at them “Tigger” “I’m a sucker for Disney”

“You wear these to bed? No wonder Rogers can’t keep his hands off you”

“I don’t wear much to bed.” She grinned back, wincing slightly as Natasha gently guided the top over her arms before buttoning it up, thankful to Steve for being so thoughtful to find ones she didn’t need to pull over her head. “Pyjamas serve as lounge wear” After cleaning her teeth she was pleased to report she felt fully human again. Natasha went to find Steve and he returned, smiling at the sight of his girl who looked a whole heap better. The only thing was that now her hair was out of her face, the injuries she’d sustained were far more noticeable but he tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he focussed on the relief in her face at finally getting clean. “Feel better?” He asked, gently grazing his fingers over the side of her neck. She nodded. “So much” she said and then shook her head as he went to pick her up “Let me walk.” "Katie…” he began but she shook her head

“Please.”

He looked at Natasha who took a deep breath “He’s right Katie, Bruce will go mad…”

“Like Hulk out mad or…” Neither of them laughed, instead Steve sighed “Please sweetheart, just…” he trailed off and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine.”

He swept her up, breathing in her once again familiar just showered smell, the vanilla of her shower gel and the oatmeal in her shampoo was like a tonic to his soul and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

All in all things seemed positive. That was until the next morning when Tony picked up a message which was meant for Pepper, saying that Dr Kellet would be arriving at Lunch. Unfortunately, her being Pepper’s Ob-Gyn too meant Tony knew who she was. And even more unfortunate was that her brother’s suspicious nature had led him to grilling Bruce about why she was needed, and of course Bruce knew nothing about it. And even worse than that, was that Bruce had asked why she was calling in another doctor without telling him, and it was the absolute worst thing ever, that Steve, with his impeccable timing skills, had walked back into the room at that point, clutching the flask of soup that Bruce had cleared her to eat and asked instantly what on earth another doctor was needed for.

She had tried to explain to them all that she just wanted some goddamned control in all of this, and that frankly calling her Ob Gyn was surely the right thing to do just to be on the safe-side after spending so long being practically starved, but their demeanour and reaction had guilt tripped her big time, even if he didn’t mean to. Bruce was hurt she hadn’t told him she was concerned, Tony was pissed that she hadn’t simply just asked him to call the Ob-Gyn instead of getting Nat to ask Pepper forcing her to go behind his back, and Steve was just upset she hadn’t told him she was worried in general. As they pushed her to the brink she snapped, and the tears flooded out of her, wracking her in hysterical sobs that she had tried and tried to stop and all 3 men had been absolutely devastated.

She slapped Steve hard when he tried to pull her into his arms, screamed at them all to leave her alone and a shocked Steve had called Natasha, his own tears clouding his eyes at the sight of his beautiful, strong girl breaking in front of him. Natasha had swept into the room, ordering them all out and sat on the bed, wrapping her arms round her friend, soothing her as she let everything out.

But Steve was frightened. Frightened as to why she needed an ob-gyn and frightened as to why she hadn’t told him.

And then he pieced it together. The secrecy, why she’d wanted Natasha to help her clean up…

“Oh God.” His voice was nothing but a choked whispter as the corridor swam around him, his legs giving way. He slumped to the floor, back to the wall, praying he was wrong. “No…please no…”

Natasha stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her and she looked at Steve, he raised his head and she instantly knew he’d figured it out.

“You knew?” He spat, shaking his head “And didn’t tell me? You FUCKING KNEW?”

“Rogers she asked me not to say anything…” “Anything about what?” Tony asked as Bruce gave a small moan, the pieces slotting into place in his head too.

“You should have told me!” Steve roared as he got to his feet, his legs still shaky “That’s…she’s my fiancée…”

“Told him what?” Tony pressed as he looked between the two of them, Steve’s face contorted in rage as he glared at Natasha. “I know, I told her to tell you but…don’t you think she’s owed this? To have some dignity and some control?”

“For fucks sake…” Tony began but he was cut off as Steve turned to him.

“She was raped, Tony.” Steve’s voice cracked as he spoke that word “Those bastards…” And with that he put his fist straight through the stud wall to his right. “They raped her…”

*****

Steve headed off to take his frustrations out on a punch bag, he felt sick. But knew it was nothing compare to how she must have felt when… he didn’t even want to think about it. But it all added to the fact that he hadn’t kept her safe. He had failed to do the one basic thing a man should be able to do for his woman. Especially when that man is a fucking Super Soldier. But the fact she hadn’t told him was what killed him the most. The tears poured down his face as he continued to pound the bag in front of him wishing he could take all this away from her.

Back in the medical wing, Dr Kellet was as sensitive as always. She softly examined Katie as Natasha stayed with her, and thankfully confirmed there was no lasting damage. She took swabs for tests and when Katie fearfully mentioned that she couldn’t remember her cycle coming in she’d smiled and shaken her head.

“You’re not pregnant.” She assured her, gently. “It’s perfectly normal in stressful circumstances, especially if you’re not in the best health too.”

It was a few hours later when tempers had calmed somewhat before Katie let Tony or Steve in the room. She hadn’t minded Bruce so much, but hearing Tony and Steve off loading at Nat out in the corridor before had pissed her off. The fact that they thought they had the right to know anything was annoying enough, but taking it out on Nat had made her even angrier. As Katie conceded they could come back in, Natasha stood up to leave and Steve shot her a positively filthy look as she left, before he turned back to his girl on the bed, unsure of how to even approach the subject, and slightly surprised to find her shooting daggers at the pair of them. Bruce left to give them some space and as her brother and fiancée both pulled up a chair, she didn’t even wait until they sat down before she spoke.

“You better apologise to Nat or so help me God Rogers, we’re gonna fall out big time.” She finished and turned to Tony. “You too,”

“She should have told us.” Steve sniffed quietly and Katie shook her head

“No, she shouldn’t because I asked her not to.” she said, “And the way you’re looking at me now is exactly why I didn’t want you to know.” “Looking at you like what?” Tony said.

“Like you feel sorry for me.”

Steve wiped at his face “So what did…Dr Kellet say?”

“That I’m fine.” she said “no lasting damage, just like the rest of my injuries.” She took his hand and looked at him, then to her brother and spoke clearly to them both. “Now, I’m gonna say this, and it’s the last anyone speaks on the subject. I don’t want pity or sympathy or treating like I’m made of glass. I’m not gonna shatter. Those bastards tried to break me in there and I didn’t let them and I’m not gonna let them now, ok?”

Steve looked at his girl, and the fierce look in her eyes and despite himself he felt a glimmer of pride. Pride at how strong she was but he knew that despite her protestations she was going to be broken inside. That was inevitable. And it suddenly dawned on him that it didn’t fucking matter that he hadn’t been the one to save her, or that he hadn’t been able to stop it. What mattered was that he was there now to help her piece herself together.

He gave her a nod and as her tears started again, he looked at Tony before the scientist stood up and sat on the edge of the bed to wrap her in his arms. He dropped a kiss to her head, before he stood up.

“I’m going to find Natasha.” He sighed, before grimacing. “If I don’t survive, say nice things at my funeral.” Katie let out a chuckle as he tenderly placed a hand on her head and left.

Once he was gone Katie looked at Steve and he swallowed, before she gave him a soft smile and patted the side of her bed. He returned her smile and stood up, kicking off his sneakers.

“I’m sorry I upset you.” He gently sat on the bed, swinging his legs up so he was led besides her. Katie lay her head on his chest and he gently carded his hand through her hair.

“This isn’t getting you out of apologising to Nat.” She sniffed “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It isn’t because I don’t trust you, because I do. With my life. I was scared, I supposed.”

“Scared, what of?”

“That all the sympathy would break me.” She shrugged, a tear escaping her eye. “And that you’d…”

“That I’d what?”

“Look at me differently, like…I dunno, like I was broken or something dirty or..”

“Woah, woah…no.” Steve moved a little, looking down at her, his hands cupping her face. “This was not your fault, okay? Nothing about any of this is your fault. And as for looking at you like that, no way. Fuck, baby I love you, I love you so much. None of this, what they did, nothing is gonna change that. You hear me?” His own tears gently trickled down his face as she gave a little nod, taking a deep breath as he pressed a kiss to her head. “Please don’t worry about that, Doll.”

He wrapped his arms round her, pulling her close as she pressed her face into his chest, gently crying. Steve held her for a while, his heart breaking at how she could possibly thing he’d feel like that towards her, nothing could be further from the truth. Eventually, he felt her shift a little in his arms and she looked up at him.

“Stevie, can you do something for me?”

“Anything, Sweetheart.” “Will you kiss me? I ain’t had one in a while.” Her lips curled up into a small, hopeful smile and Steve let out a soft chuckle and dipped his head, his nose brushing hers slightly.

“Think I can manage that.” His lips met hers in a gentle peck at first before it became slightly deeper, one arm round her shoulders, the other hand cupping her face gently as hers fisted in his shirt, ignoring the dull pain in her left hand. It was soft, gentle, both of them simply enjoying the first kiss they’d shared since the quick goodbye peck six weeks ago.

“I love you.” He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers. “Tilt e end of the line.” “Good job.” She smiled, as he wiped away the tears that had trickled down her face. “Seeing as I’m marrying you aint I?”

“Yeah, yeah you are.” Steve’s own face broke into a smile as he lay back and she once more rest her head on his chest, settling herself in his warm embrace.

***** December 2014.

Katie and Steve still took their planned trip to Europe. They’d had to rejig their original schedule slightly as Katie had only been given the all clear with her hand on the 5th December to fly, meaning they had to miss the first week of . But they didn’t care, there was plenty of time to go another time. What they did care about was the fact that they got the time to themselves. Once things had settled down at the tower they’d stepped up the search for the Sceptre, jointly deciding that was their priority. But after the events of the last few months all the Avengers had decided to take down time over the holidays, and post a large, raucous thanksgiving, they’d gone their separate ways for the holidays. Thor heading to be with Jayne, Clint and Natasha to Clint’s family (although only Katie and Steve by-proxy knew that) Bruce had gone to Seoul for a few weeks to help Dr Cho with some research and Tony had whisked Pepper off to the Maldives. Each one of them taking the chance to recover in a sense if you will, from what had been the hardest time they’d had to face as a team so far.

Katie’s hand was still a little stiff but with the physio she was getting there, and was on track to make a full recovery. And the best bit was her big fuck off Tiffany Diamond was back where it belonged. Her bruises were well gone, she had put on most of the weight she had lost (she was still a little too slim for Steve’s liking so he made it his job to feed her as much as possible) and today had been no exception. They arrived early on the Wednesday morning into Bruges, and had wasted no time in dumping their bags and heading out to explore. Their day had been full of snow, hand holding, Christmas treats, beer, long kisses stolen in the large square as they were bundled up in coats, hats and scarves. It was just so fucking normal.

And they’d never been so grateful for normal before.

Eventually, after a huge meal in a beautiful restaurant tucked away by the side of a canal, they’d headed back to the hotel. And they had every intention of just having one last drink from the mini-bar, led on the bed but things had started to get a little heated. It was the first time that either of them had pushed anything further than kissing since the incident they didn’t talk about, but whether it was the change of scenery or just the romance of being in a hotel room in Europe, surrounded by snow, they had no idea but it felt right, and they both just ran with it.

They undressed each other tenderly and Steve laid Kati down on the bed, and just took his time, making sure he worshiped every single inch of her body he could get his hands on. His fingers traced her slowly re-establishing curves, up her hips to her ribs which were no longer protruding, down to her no longer bruised thighs and across her belly, his lips simply brushing her skin just under her collar bone. He was gentle, and to some it would surprise them how a soldier made during a war to fight could be so soft and tender but Katie knew the man underneath it all and she wasn’t surprised in the slightest at how delicate he was being. He was never anything else when it came to her. What did surprise her however, was that whilst his touch was feather light and barely there she could feel it more than she ever had. It sent red hot fire spiking through her belly, and her heart swelled to the point she thought it would burst. She loved him, loved the way he touched her and felt and yet, underneath the fire there came something else. A sharp stab of fear. Fear, not of him, but fear that when it came to it, her body was going to betray her and do something stupid, involuntary, like make her freeze or lash out, or that it would feel different for either or both of them. Steve paused, his right hand gently hovering by her naval where it had been steadily making its way downwards. She was trembling. Shit. He frowned slightly and looked up to see her watching him, her green eyes shining in the soft, dim light of the room. "Sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick in his throat “if this is too much…” “No.” She replied quickly, “it’s not…” “You’re shaking” he said softly, his hand moving up to softly cup her face as his frown deepened. Was she scared of him? The thought of that was enough to destroy him and just as he was about to say something she laid her hand over his and moved her face softly to the side so she could place a kiss to his palm. And when she spoke, he was once again convinced she could read his damned mind. “These hands would never hurt me." Not could not, but would not. And she wanted him to understand she knew the difference. "I’m not scared of you Steve. I could never be scared of you…” she swallowed “I’m scared of me.”

His brow creased, he was confused. “I don’t understand.” “I don’t know what my body is gonna do, I’m worried I’m going to react differently to how it used and that it’ll feel different…I can’t explain.” His face softened and he looked at her, pressing his forehead to hers he tried to offer her some reassurance. “I love you.” He drew back to press a kiss to the bridge of her nose “And we’ll take it slow, that is if you still want to.” his nose gently brushed hers as he looked at her “If you don’t then that’s fine, I can wait…we can wait.” “No, I do, I don’t wanna wait.” She shook her head, her lips sweeping across his, drawing a moan from him. “I missed this, being close to you, being with you.” He looked at her again before their lips connected in a soft kiss that grew more urgent, but still stayed tender as they both poured their souls into one another. Steve’s hand gently gripped her hip and she let out a soft moan into his mouth making him pull back slightly, and press his forehead to hers. “I got you, Sweetheart.” He said softly, “I got you…” “I know.” She replied, voice barely a whisper. “You always do.”

His hand gently slid down to her folds, and as his fingers gently began to play she let out a soft gasp at his touch, it felt right, so damned right. He was gently, took his time, watching her carefully as she softly writhed at his touch, and when she begged for him, to feel him, he adjusted himself between her legs and slowly pushed into her. Katie sighed in pleasure, and relief too because it felt like it always had done.

Steve kept his movements slow, not thrusting but rolling, rocking softly into her over and over again, soft moans and whispers filling the room as her hands gripped round his biceps, his weight gently pressed on top of her, both of them needing to feel the other as they reconnected in the most intimate of ways possible. Katie gently moved her hands, dancing over his broad back, tracing between his shoulder blades feeling each twitch and flex in his muscles as he moved, the familiarity of it was so damned comforting. Steve’s large hands cupped her face as he kissed her, their tongues tangling together and even when he broke the kiss to let out a soft groan he kept his lips on hers, feather light in their touch.

“Katie…” Steve panted into her mouth, his hips continuing their gentle, deep roll into her “I’m not sure how much longer… are you close, baby girl?” She didn’t answer with words, instead he felt her tightening around him, her reactions the same as they always had been, and he gave another groan as she let out a soft whimper. Then, he heard it. The most beautiful sound ever to hit his ears, a sound he had heard so many times before but right there in that opulent hotel room in Belgium, the lights of the city bright and bouncing off the snow through the slight crack in the heavy, deep blue curtains, it sounded so much more sweeter, more significant almost than the first time she had said it.

"Stevie…” his name tumbled from her lips in a whisper and he felt the tears sting his eyes as he nudged her nose with his, making her look at him. She gave another soft moan before she tilted her head back and let out a gentle cry as her back arched and she came, her eyes fluttering shut. It was enough to make him tumble, gently rutting up into her he felt himself go and his movements became disjointed until he collapsed forwards, utterly blissed and consumed by her.

They both took a moment before Steve raised his head to look at her, and saw the gentle shine of a tear fall down her cheek.

“Are you ok?” He asked, wiping at her face with his thumbs. For one horrible moment he was petrified he had hurt her until he realised she was smiling and nodding. But this wasn’t her usual post orgasm grin, this was a pure, unadulterated happy smile. And then Steve understood, they were tears of joy. “Well I’ve never made anyone cry after sex before.” He quipped, his voice thick with emotion and she spluttered a giggle, sniffing a little as his nose bumped hers before his lips gently mopped up the few stray tears that fell from her sparkling emerald eyes. “I just…” she started to talk but stopped. She couldn’t find the words to explain. Explain how that last 20 minutes or so of him lavishing attention on her, right from that first kiss to taking her to the edge of ecstasy and back had fixed that final part of her that was broken. He had taken the last shards of the fragmented, shitty mess that Hydra left and slotted them back into place. "I’m ok.” She finished, unable to word it any better. "I’m ok.” He gently placed his lips on hers and drew her into a long, gentle kiss, his own tears threatening to fall at those 2 simple words. Ok was lame, she hated it, said it was just a “shit phrase and you should never just be ok” but here he knew what it meant for her to be just be ok. Without a word he rolled off her and took her with him, pulling her so she was led straight on top of him, like they would do on the couch, in front of the TV and she gave a laugh. He pulled the covers up over them and she lay her head on his chest, his fingers lightly dancing up her spine “I love you, Sweetheart.” He said as she gave a hum of contentment “More than apple pie?” She asked and he gave a chuckle, he really had missed this. Their playful banter that came before, during and after the act. “Infinitely” “More than mac and cheese?” He hesitated on purpose and she gave a loud scoff and hit him on the chest. He laughed, rubbing at the spot even though she hasn’t hurt him, giving a soft “ow” as she levelled him with a playful glare. “Is it your mac and cheese?” He asked “because we all know it’s the best damned mac and cheese in the world” “Flattery will get you nowhere, Soldier.” she teased and he chuckled again, as she lay her head back down. “But seeing as I’m in a good mood how about when I get back I make us apple pie AND mac and cheese… and then we can have more sex and you can decide which one is better?” “That sounds like the best idea you have ever had Miss Stark…” They lay there in silence and it wasn’t long before he felt her melt into him, her breathing evened out and he gently glanced down and saw her eyes were shut, her lashes fluttering slightly as she slept. He thought about moving her, setting her down beside him but as her chest rose and fell, pressing into him he decided better of it.

She could move herself when, or if she wanted to.

And if she didn’t, then that was totally fine by him.

**** Chapter 22

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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retromotherfuckers · 4 years ago

Text

Six Years (Part 3)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Kane!Reader, Platonic!Octavia Blake

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you’d become.

Warning:

so much mf angst, themes of addiction and depression, self-destructive behavior and a tiny bit of comfort in there

Word Count:

2k (i got a little ~carried away~ lol)

A/N:

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. i wasn’t happy with the og thing i had down so i literally just rewrote the whole thing in a few hours and it’s sm better than it would’ve been. me holding off posting this did wonders and i’m more confident in it too even tho i kinda think i suck at writing but also kinda don’t idk my self esteem varies wildly

Merry Christmas Eve Eve to those who celebrate ❤️

the gif (and all the other ones) are not mine and i take no credit for them

if you want to be tagged in any of my works, send me a message or an ask and i’ll add you :)

@shipshipshipau

The girl with aqua eyes - although now they were more of a spotted gray - had only seen one moment of weakness from you. It would be the last time Octavia had seen you, and you, her.

“We’re surviving!” She had started shouting, as if she believed that set in a lower tone, her words would be construed as lies. “The human race is surviving! That’s what matters!”

“He wouldn’t be okay with this, and you know it!” Your voice broke involuntarily as it rose to match hers. You shook your head as you tried to desperately stop the ache in your chest as you brought her - probably dead - brother up. Tears clung to your eyelashes, waiting for you to blink so they had permission to fall. Your throat had been closed for a while now, and the rest was merely a weak cry. “If this is the price that we have to pay...maybe we shouldn’t be.”

You’d never know if it was the crack in your demeanor or your choice of words, but either way, her eyes softened when you spoke.

“Look at me.” You did as told and she gripped the back of your neck in one hand, pulling your forehead so close it almost came into contact with hers.

The air changed as Octavia came alive under the monster she wore for armor. Her mask coming off allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You would begin to regret not smashing the helmet to bits while it was off and vulnerable.

“You have to stop listening to them,” She said. “It’ll tear you apart. It’s better they get to live to hate us than die slowly and love us-”

“They don’t deserve this either, O-”

“We bare it, so they don’t have to. You’re the one that told me that. You can’t back out on me, now. I can’t do this without you.”

For so long you were okay with her needing you to do the dirty work. Besides the first time - when you did it together - she’d give the sentence and you’d see it through. Every single time, it felt like it was killing you more than them, but that didn’t matter, did it? If you weren’t going to do it, who would?

It was the last thing Octavia had asked of you and you had no intention of letting her down.

Bellamy didn’t know what he would see when they finally dropped him down into the bunker, but it definitely wasn’t that. Surrounded by more death than he was prepared for, he couldn’t help himself to not move his gaze around the arena. The fences between him and the living reminded him of the cages the Mountain Men held him in. The walls were stained deep with crimson, leaving the dull concrete behind it unrecognizable. He looked to the blonde at his side, and they asked each other the same silent question:

What the hell happened down here?

His whiskey shaded orbs kept moving, albeit reluctantly. They stopped on Marcus Kane, who looked so much older than last time. His hair and beard were inches longer and grayer than the natural brown he used to have. He was so pale, it was unnerving - almost as if he was close to death. They connected eyes briefly and that’s when the younger saw the deadly weapon held to his neck by the hands of-

No.

Your back was facing him, but it didn’t matter how long it had been, he’d never miss you. The locks that adorned your head were longer too, almost to your waist. The natural shade was faded though, like you had aged twenty years instead of six. He watched your shoulders heave and your hands start to shake as Kane talked to you.

He couldn’t pull his eyes from the impure red that dyed your skin and clothes.

While you were distracted, he chose to act, protecting Marcus from his own flesh and blood. He didn’t miss the gears in your head turning as your gaze landed on him. He saw your eyes sink into a trance of recognition and a deep sort of longing overtook your senses. The melancholic need you had tried to numb for half a decade came back in full force and held no mercy.

You remembered how he always smelled of the forest after the sky wept. You remembered how sure but gentle his touch was on your skin. You remembered how his remarkably soft lips would feel when they pushed against yours as they begged for more at every turn. You remembered how it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heart thump as he assured you everything would be alright, even if he didn’t think it would be.

Was that gone forever, now, too?

Bellamy noticed something else, though; something he didn’t recognize. Something he’d never seen before.

Something that scared him.

It had been hours since and neither of you had bothered to find the other. Getting everyone out was a great distraction for him. Talking to his little sister, whose eyes seemed to hold the same thing yours did, was another. She had explained to him and Clarke that Wonkru had deemed her Bloodreina and you, Ripa. So, no, nothing as special as death from above or the red queen or the commander of death, but death, nonetheless.

People have done well not to forget that.

When Clarke told him you still hadn’t come out and no one had seen you, however, he didn’t have a choice anymore.

The halls were those of nightmares, spirits lurking around every corner and it was cold and empty. He knew the lights were kept low to save power but it felt almost purposeful, like they were meant to scare you. To tell you not to act out or some kind of monster would jump from the shadows and make you pay.

But he didn’t know if it was you or his sister.

A chill slithered up his spine.

If someone told him this wasn’t real, he’d do anything he could to believe them. He wished that he was seconds away from being shaken awake by Raven or Monty, and they would tell him it was just another nightmare. He wished he was still on the Ring, praying ignorantly to anyone that would listen that his family on earth were still okay.

Breaking him from his thoughts, a yellow lamplight caught his attention. At the end of the windowless corridor, it shone out of a slightly ajar door. Using every ounce of strength he possessed to not walk away, he pushed it open. It cried at the motion, diminishing any and all remnants of silence that swallowed the floor.

His eyes found you catching yourself from falling caused by a failed attempt at standing. A half empty bottle of whatever works in one hand, the other one holding you up against the bed frame. The high-pitched creak pulled your attention to the front of the room with a furrowed brow and he allowed himself to take in your appearance.

A wrinkled, cotton shirt sat on your chest and it was a different one than before; faded white and thin, yet cleaner than the other one which was colored with blood. Your hair was damp - the result of taking a shower - but lazily tied back in a half-assed effort to get it out of your face.

You stared at each other for a minute. A million things were hitting your slow-moving thoughts at once, too much for you to even try to comprehend. He finally took one step towards you, parting his lips to say something but no sound came out. He was stumped, hundreds of words flooded his mind but not a single one sounded good enough.

Nothing he could say would make what happened in the arena okay.

It was unbearably painful. There he was, finally right in front of you, and you had no idea what to talk about. No idea what to start with, end with, bring up, discuss, laugh about, cry about, scream about. Nothing was good enough to say to the man that kept you alive for such a long time, such a long time ago.

Too long ago.

You inevitably broke the silence, though your words came out cracked and in a slur. A defensive and humorless scoff left your lips, an effort to cover up the discomfort. Or it was because you were too drunk to shut yourself up. “You gonna say somethin’?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

You didn’t know why, but you hoped he’d sound different. It was childish and irrational, but you hoped that you could say you both changed too much and he would have nothing to hold against you.

Because no matter how far away it seemed, sometimes you could still remember what it felt like to be that innocent seventeen-year-old that hadn’t lived yet; what it felt like to be that girl who still couldn’t stand her father. To be that girl who sprained her ankle within ten minutes of being on earth for the first time. To be that girl who hadn’t made a friend aside from Clarke and Wells in her whole life. That girl who had just kissed a boy for the first time.

The girl who was loved and not lost yet.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Where the hell did she go?

That made the room spin, and you had to blink a few times to make it stop, taking a seat on the thin mattress. You took a drink, making the liquid slosh from the base to the neck of the bottle and back again. When it settled, you rested your head between your shoulders as you heard him say your name. It bounced off the walls in the room, hitting each one again, and again, and again like it was a bullet waiting to find its target. You had wanted the word to fall from his lips for so long that you’d forgotten what it sounded like. You had forgotten what he sounded like, and you fucking hated yourself for it.

Then you realized he said, “Ripa,” and those four deadly little letters crushed your throat and stole the air from your lungs.

That name hadn’t felt right from the start, but it was what you had been simultaneously promoted to and reduced by. The only person who refused to call you that over the years, was your father. For two thousand days, he made sure to steer clear of it.

That’s not who you are and I know it, even if you don’t.

A sudden and hauntingly raw sob escaped, and you knew his eyes were on you in an instant.

“Don’t call me that,” You begged, meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered. Breath picking up, you were practically terror-stricken at the idea that all you were to him now was a murderer. You vigorously tried to shake the thought away, squeezing your eyes shut as everything that kept you numb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Y-You can’t-Not you too. Please, not you.”

Bellamy’s hand brushed your cheek and tears rained freely. You immediately leaned into the familiar and delicate warmth and you really fucking hoped this wasn’t your mind playing a trick on you.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” When he spoke this time, his words sounded choked too. His other hand cradled the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest and just...held you. “It’s okay.”

It was like you were standing at the edge of a building, teetering the edge before accidentally falling. Only, before you could plummet to your death, someone caught your hand, and it occurred to you that you really wanted them to pull you back up.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Your voice was just so, so weak. Beaten down and broken.

“Never.” He said it with so much confidence and finality, you almost had to convince yourself it was real and not a dream. “I promise.”

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andimarquette · 4 years ago

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a taste of my latest Clexa AU

hi, friends--

so I’m getting ready to start posting another Clexa AU. This one has Clarke and Lexa as actors in a series that’s...remarkably similar to the loo. But I have a different meta-take. LOLOL Here’s a taste:

Part I

Chapter TBA

“Cut!” the director yelled.

“What the hell was that, ladies?” Jeffrey snapped.

Clarke tried to glare at Raven but ended up laughing instead. Bellamy clamped his hand over his mouth, which only made her laugh harder.

“Jesus Christ,” Jeffrey said. “Take twenty, people. If you’re not ready to go after that, I will personally find someone to replace your asses.” The camera crew made sure their equipment was protected in the ongoing light rain while people walked back and forth across the sodden ground.

“You mad, bro?” Raven muttered as she checked her ponytail.

Clarke laughed again. “Oh, my God. I hate this scene. I hate that you’re in it.”

Raven smirked. “I’m hurt, Griff. Truly.”

“And I hate that Jeffrey is such a douche about everything.”

“Same.” Raven stretched. “This brace is a pain in my ass. Or rather, leg.” She glanced over at Jeffrey, who was clearly chewing out one of the camera guys. “He’s been super douchey to Lincoln lately. Hasn’t been giving him as many scenes. It’s like he has some weird hang-up with him all of a sudden.”

“I noticed that. Have you talked to Lincoln?”

Raven shook her head. “He’s pissed, but willing to give it a shot and see if they can work through it.”

Clarke frowned. Everybody had noticed it. Lincoln was a pretty easygoing guy, but if something pissed him off enough, he would say something. She adjusted her jacket as Susan, one of the makeup people, rushed over to check her hair and the fake cuts and grime on her face. The rain was making it a little more difficult than usual and Susan looked like Jeffrey had been riding her ass all day. Lines of stress showed around her eyes and mouth.

“You guys, the apocalypse is so fucking hard,” Raven said, half-whining, which really did start Bellamy to laughing.

“Technically, it’s post-apocalypse,” Octavia said and Clarke almost spit her water out. Susan got out of the way.

“Sorry,” Clarke said. “Tell these asshats to stop making me laugh.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Susan touched up one of the fake cuts on her face.

“It’s just one of those days,” Bellamy said with an eyeroll.

“And it gets Jeffrey’s undies all in a wad.” Raven took the water bottle from Clarke even though there were plenty in a nearby cooler.

“Better his than mine.” Clarke smoothed the front of her pants, also marred with grime, only this was real because she’d taken them into the surrounding forest and got them dirty for the scenes they were shooting this week. Jeffrey was uptight ninety percent of the time, which made him difficult to work with.

Right now, though, she was hungry and really tired and mostly wet from a steady, light rain. Good thing it was August and not as cold as it could have been. They’d been working on this particular scene in the forest for hours and Raven finally got super punchy, which meant she started cracking jokes under her breath and flashing Clarke ridiculous expressions. Which just basically created a cascade of hilarity that pissed Jeffrey off even more.

Susan checked Bellamy then Raven and walked over to Octavia.

“So not feeling this whole AI cray Jeffrey is thinking about,” Raven said. “Oh, wait. Am I allowed to say that as an actress in the show that’s doing it?”

“Seems legit,” Bellamy said. “Just keep it on set.”

“Why? He’s hardly ever on set. He clearly doesn’t keep it here.”

Bellamy shrugged and adjusted his belt. “This thing digs into my back,” he muttered.

“How the hell is it even touching your back?” Raven asked. “It’s a belt. Around your waist.”

“It rides up and it’s stiff.”

“That’s what she said,” Raven snarked and this time Clarke did spit water out while Octavia howled with laughter.

Bellamy grinned. “Yeah, well—”

“Stop.” Clarke waved her hand in the air. “Do not say what you are going to say because there is not enough brain bleach in the world to get that image out of my mind.”

“You mean the one already in there?” Raven took the water bottle from her and drank.

She snorted. “I’m going to clear my head. I want to nail this scene like, right now because I’m starving and I need a beer. And if you all pull this off with me, you are all welcome to join me.”

“Done and done. Go get your Zen on.” Raven handed the bottle back. Clarke took it and walked toward one of the RVs parked nearby so she could stand under the awning the crew had extended. A couple of the show’s writers stood talking under it. Kevin was gesticulating with his cigarette but he stopped and gave her a sympathetic smile. ...

What do y’all think? This is going to be the behind the scenes meta-look fanfic of the loo show, in case you didn’t figure it out yet. LOL totally fictional, totally what if, but why the hell not? I already rebooted S3 in “Grounded” -- I thought I’d reboot the entire fucking filming of the show! nanner nanner.

Will start posting soon. Y’all take care and plz for the love of all that is holy, fucking MASK UP. Protect yourselves and your loved ones. And if you see some unmasked dickbag coming toward you, do not even have any shame about screaming and running the other way. MUAH.

#clexa #clexa au #lexa woods #clarke griffin #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #ridiculous cray #silly clexa shit

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troped-fanfic-challenge · 4 years ago

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Chopped: Holiday Trope Exchange 2020 Masterlist!

A huge thanks to every person who signed up for our fic exchange, we got 21 really wonderful fics! We’re sorry it took us so long to get this out to you all! For anyone who isn’t sure what this was all about, this was a double blind gift exchange where each of our twenty-one (21!!!) writers were assigned four tropes from an anonymous recipient, and were tasked with writing a fic that fit our holiday theme, and included all the tropes. The only guidance from their recipient were a couple of brief notes they included during the sign up, and both the writer and recipient were revealed when we shared all the fics! A big thanks to the Tropesters who stepped up to write a second fic when we needed them! These fics, as with all our TROPED fics, were creative and unique, and found ways to utilise tropes that may seem so simple but were transformed in really spectacular ways! Please enjoy these wonderful holiday fics!

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roots in my dreamland (my house of stone, your ivy grows) (Rated M) [Bellarke]

Written by @captaindaddykru for @thelittlefanpire. The four assigned tropes were 1) Doppelgängers, 2) one character is a dancer, 3) first snow, and 4) kissing to keep a cover/a secret.

Summary: Clarke really wants it to work out with Bellamy, but as an A-list Hollywood actress there’s a lot of contractual obligations she can hide behind instead of confronting her own insecurities and past mistakes. Luckily, this Christmas she’s lucked out, and her stand-in Josie is more than willing to (completely selflessly of course) take her place.

Now comes the hard part.

brighter than moonbeams (Rated T) [Memori]

Written by @the-most-beautiful-broom for @thedefinitionofendgame. The four assigned tropes were 1) The characters play a game,2) Secret Santa, 3) Exes to Lovers, and 4) Surprise kiss.

Summary: Murphy and Emori fall in love fast, and then talk themselves out of it. Years later, their paths will cross again, and they realize that their might be parts of their story that are yet to be written.

What a way to start the year (Rated T) [Bellarke]

Written by @bellarkeshoe for @bellamysgriffin. The four assigned tropes were 1) Law enforcement partners, 2) Character gets BADLY injured and they hide it somehow only to reveal later that they are mortally wounded, 3) Characters hugging after they’ve been through hell, and 4) Kissing in the snow.

Summary: It’s New Years Eve, and Bellamy and Clarke got stuck working.

It’s Alright, It’s Okay (Rated M) [Clurphy]

Written by @sailawaymayday for @wwjacksparrowd. The four assigned tropes were 1) Found Family, 2) Groundhog Day/timeloop, 3) Character gets shot/stabbed/BADLY injured and hides the wound somehow, only to accidentally (someone else touches them and their bleeding, they collapse, etc.) reveal later that they are mortally wounded, and 4) Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: Clarke makes it onto the Ring with the rest of Spacekru. What happens when New Years Eve keeps repeating itself? And what does Murphy have to do with it?

Dancing in Graveyards: An Arkadia Anthology (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Written by @justbecauseyoubelievesomething for @kinetic-elaboration. The four assigned tropes were 1) Small town gothic, 2) Christmas Lights, 3) First snow, and 4) Sneaking someone in/out of your window.

Summary: Three small town gothic stories intertwine as old friends reunite and try to make the best out of their lives. Raven returns home after her foster father’s death and is pulled like a magnet to her enigmatic highschool sweetheart. Jasper seeks solace from a tragedy and desperately attempts to outrun the ghosts of the past. Bellamy battles his inner demons and prays not to tear himself and his loved ones apart in the process. And all of them come to realize that they belong together, even if the place they call home is shadowed by sorrow.

do or die, you’ll never make me (because the world will never take my heart) (Rated T) [Bellarke]

Written by @shen-gong-oops for @probably-voldemort. The four assigned tropes were 1) Fake dating, 2) Amnesia AU, 3) Enemies to Friends to Lovers, and 4) Superhero AU.

Summary: As the youngest member of the Guard and the daughter of the Guard former leader, there are high expectations set for Clarke. The Marketing and PR teams at Ark expecting her to be prim and proper during any conferences, while simultaneously performing their well-rehearsed fight choreography to a T.

But when four unknown supes challenge the juggernaut that is Ark Industries, Clarke wonders if herodom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Merry Christmas, Lovebirds (Rated G) [Murven]

Written by @kinetic-elaboration for @shen-gong-oops. The four assigned tropes were 1) One character cautiously says “i’m going to kiss you now, okay?” or some variation of that, 2) Mutual pining, 3) A misunderstanding, and 4) Tattoos.

Summary: There’s never snow for Christmas on the beach, Murphy is a culinary genius, Raven has a boyfriend, and other presumed facts, too obvious to mention.

Once Upon Our Story (Rated G) [Bellarke]

Written by @andthelightbulbclicks for @bellamythology. The four assigned tropes were 1) break-up/make-up, 2) Did they or didn’t they, 3) Extremely biased flashbacks of the same event, and 4) Bookstore or library AU.

Summary: Bellamy returns with as much fanfare as one can imagine when driving a school bus decorated as Santa Claus through town, leaving Clarke shocked and all of their friends confused given he hasn’t been home in months.

(Or: Six months ago, Bellamy left Arkadia.

Six months ago, Clarke didn’t.

Six months ago, their friends knew the relationship ended, even came up with their own versions of what really happened. But the question that they all want to know for certain– is why?)

Dream A Little Dream of Me (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @queenemori for @vmreed. The four assigned tropes were 1) One character has a child, 2) Protectiveness, 3) Only one bed, and 4) Soulmates.

Summary: It was just Murphy’s luck that right as he was starting to enjoy Earth, he had to leave. But he’d rather that than succumb to a fiery death wave. He and the other residents of the Ring remembered Clarke every year during their New Year’s Eve celebration. But even when they weren’t celebrating Clarke, Murphy couldn’t seem to get her off his mind. He wished his brain would stop playing tricks on him by making him think she was alive. Clarke was dead. Wasn’t she?

i don’t wanna burn out, so wont you please set me on fire again? (Rated M) [Murven]

Written by @kuklash for @sparklyfairymira. The four assigned tropes were 1) Protectiveness, 2) Exes and Lovers, 3) Small Town AU, and 4) Characters fall on each other and have a moment.

Summary: The wind nipped at Murphy’s nose as he stood in the doorway of the gas station on the edge of town. Work was slow, as it always was after sundown, especially in the mid-December cold, but someone had to make sure the good townsfolk of Arkadia could get their milk and gas after the small general store closed. All 800 of them. He watched the cars drive by throughout the day, recognizing each and everyone of them. Bellamy’s beat up truck he worked all highschool to afford, Clarke’s clean new sedan, even that jerk Finn’s loud ass motorcycle. He watched them all pass one by one, his old classmates returning home after another semester of college at the University of Polis. The only sign that time was passing at all.

The phone inside rang, breaking him out of his melancholy, at least for now.

“Great,” he thought, sarcastically. “A phone call 10 minutes before we close.”

He walked back inside and put on the most cheerful customer service voice he could muster.

“Dropship Gas, this is Murphy. How can I he-”

A familiar female voice cut him off, leaving him cold.

“Murphy? Thank god!”

It was his ex.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you (Rated M) [Bellarke]

Written by @sparklyfairymira for @captaindaddykru. The four assigned tropes were 1) Celebrity AU, 2) Meet Ugly, 3) Characters must share something, and 4) Characters aren’t together but are mistaken to be.

Summary: Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin are household names thanks to their music. They belong to the same label so they often work together on duets—even though they can’t stand one another. Their first meeting is disastrous and six years later they still can’t get along.

toward brighter days (Rated T) [Sea Mechanic]

Written by @reggieshamster for @/ashplana. The four assigned tropes were 1) Apocalyptic Log, 2) bed sharing, 3) road trip au, and 4) mythical creatures.

Summary: Dear Harper,

I am ridiculously out of it this morning. Last night, when we reached the campsite, Luna suggested we give Echo her own bedroll, since she gave hers up the night before.

Which meant Luna was sleeping with me.

Beside me.

Excerpts from Raven’s journal as she travels to Polis for the Winter Solstice Festival

three words, two hearts, one maybe (Rated G) [Bellarke]

Written by @bellamysgriffin for @bellarkeshoe. The four assigned tropes were 1) Youtuber AU, 2) best friend’s sibling, 3) frikdreina, and 4) miscommunication.

Summary: After an accident blinds Clarke, Octavia’s been encouraging her best friend to keep up with her artwork. In order to inspire her, she recruits the help of her older brother, Bellamy, who’s recently launched a new exhibition at his museum, to feature her work. Bellamy likes Clarke’s work, and he’s more than happy to help. But when she doesn’t show on the big day, he takes matters into his own hands. With an old video camera, he records people’s reactions to Clarke’s artwork so that she’ll know just how talented she is. But when he sends it to his sister, he doesn’t expect her to upload it to YouTube. And he definitely doesn’t expect to go viral.

Something Beautiful, Simple, and Bright (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @wwjacksparrowd for @queenemori. The four assigned tropes were 1) Friends with Benefits AU, 2) Prank war, 3) characters are not together but are mistaken for a couple, and 4) Based on a Song.

Summary: Six months after Wonkru and Eligius manage to establish peace and divide Eden between themselves (with a little slice shaved off for Spacekru, of course), Clarke has a mission: plan a New Year’s Eve party for fifteen hundred people within three weeks.

Murphy’s mission? Stop her from burning out in the process. Oh, and if he could just get Monty to quit it with the freaking noisemakers, that would be great, too.

(…Okay, yeah, he’d also like to date Clarke for real instead of just sleeping with her. But that’s a pipe dream, right?)

put your faith in the devil and the deep blue sea (Rated M) [Clurphy]

Written by @probably-voldemort for @kuklash. The four assigned tropes were 1) Time Loop AU, 2) Characters fall on top of one another and have a “moment”, 3) Enemies to Lovers, and 4) Superhero AU.

Summary: Twenty years ago, when the clocks changed from 11:59pm on December 31st, 1999, to 12:00am on January 1st, 2000, the world ended, exactly as the doomsdayers had predicted. Now, there are only a few livable months left on Earth, and the privileged are evacuating for a life in space, abandoning the planet.

But not everyone has given up.

Clarke was only three when the world ended, and she’s spent most of her life in her mother’s lab. Now, as the last space ships are preparing to leave, her mother’s machine is finally ready, and Clarke and her mother are heading back in time to try to stop the apocalypse from happening in the first place.

An attack on the lab leads to Clarke heading back to 1995 on her own, and the past isn’t quite how Clarke’s vague memories from the beginning of her life paint it. Clarke soon discovers that not only did the machine do more than just send her back in time, but she wasn’t, in fact, sent back alone.

Will she be able to stop the apocalypse before the clock strikes midnight? Or are some parts of history unchangeable?

All I Want For Christmas (Rated T) [Memori]

Written by @thedefinitionofendgame for @the-most-beautiful-broom. The four assigned tropes were 1) Fake dating, 2) Joke kiss turned real kiss, 3) One character is sleeping and the other character is watching them totally in love, and 4) Blanket fort.

Summary: Tired of being single, Murphy decides to take matters into his own hands and get himself a girlfriend before the annual Christmas Day dinner with his friends. Having had bad luck in the past with girls - all twenty four of them - Murphy is determined to make the twenty-fifth, the “Christmas Day” number, his forever.

Of course, this is easier said than done. When his fellow coworker, Emori, seems to be having similar problems and suggests them being each other’s “fake dates” to their Christmas parties in December, Murphy jumps at the chance. Fake dating is better than being totally alone, right? It appears that way, at least until Murphy starts to catch feelings; the ones that make you question everything you think you know. As their “fake feelings” start to become more real, Murphy realizes that Emori’s the one he wants for Christmas. But she’s got walls up and even though his heart doesn’t stand a chance, Murphy’s determined to break them down and show her what falling in love really means, maybe with the help of a little December magic thrown in.

As long as we’re together, no I can’t get much higher (Rated T) [Murven]

Written by @dylanobrienisbatman for @andthelightbulbclicks. The four assigned tropes were 1) Zookeeper AU, 2) Treasure Hunt, 3) secret places, and 4) Secret Santa.

Summary: Murphy has only known Raven for a little while, but the longer he spends getting to know her, the more he realises that there’s no hope of him not falling in love with her.

So when he gets her for Secret Santa, he makes it his mission to nail it.

before i knew you (Rated G) [Clexa]

Written by @dylanobrienisbatman for @sailawaymayday. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Pen Pals, (2) 3+1, 4+1, 5+1, etc., (3) surprise kiss, and (4) character meets another characters ex.

Summary: What do you do when your penpal, the person you know the best in the world, who you love, turns out to be the rather rude (if also rather pretty) sales girl from downstairs? Lexa is about to find out. or - 3 times lexa and clarke meet without knowing they’ve been penpals since childhood, and the 1 time Lexa figures it out.

when life gives you shit, you make kool-aid (Rated M) [Becho]

Written by @reggieshamster for @dylanobrienisbatman. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Bodyguard AU, (2) Bed Sharing, (3) Kissing to Keep Cover/a Secret, and (4) a Character gets shot/stabbed/badly injured and they collapse, being caught by their loved one.

Summary: Bellamy used to have it all, and then one screw-up cost him his career and his fancy life. Now, working as a bodyguard for alcoholic businessmen and their families, he gets a call from his sister for a job… escorting a hitwoman to testify against a man convicted of crimes against humanity. What could possibly go wrong?

and left the secret at the grave (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @probably-voldemort for @justbecauseyoubelievesomething. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Murder Mystery, (2) Partners in Crime, (3) Exes to Lovers, and (4) Snowed In.

Summary: At 8:57 on the morning of December 23rd, eight year old Jordan Green discovered the body of Skybox Inn owner Vera Kane on the floor of the lobby. His screams woke up the other guests of the inn, as well as the live-in butler.

The discovery of the body was followed shortly by two more discoveries. The first was that the storm the night before had knocked out the phones and the internet, and the second was that the inn was completely snowed in with no hopes of escape anytime soon.

Thirteen people trapped in an inn.

Uncountable secrets.

One murderer.

One question.

Who killed Vera Kane?

what a tangled string of Christmas lights we weave (Rated T) [Linctavia]

Written by @thelittlefanpire for @reggieshamster. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Royalty AU, (2) Cyrano AU, (3) Characters fall and end up landing on top of each other and have a “moment”, and (4) Hair brushing and/or braiding.

Summary: When the royal family loses their beloved Prince Wells, the future king of Arkadia, all eyes are on them. The Queen remains as stoic as ever, the Spare grapples with his new responsibilities, the Princess drowns in her grief, and the King is threatening to abolish the monarchy forever.

At Christmastime, as tensions in the palace rise with the vicious tabloids outside, the royal family makes an escape to a castle in the mountains, hoping to find solace and reconcile with their loss.

Princess Octavia will try to mend her broken heart back together as she becomes entranced with the letters sent back and forth between herself and another. But when it’s revealed who the true penman is, will she rise above her sorrow or sink further into it?

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Take a read! Leave a kudos/comment! Our Tropesters worked so hard on creating some unique, festive fun fics from all the amazing tropes that were sent in. Thanks again!

#TROPED: masterlist #chopped: holiday gift exchange #chopped: holiday trope exchange #chte 2.0 #chte2020 #masterlist #the 100 fanfiction

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dearbellarke · 3 years ago

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Clarke, the New Girl

Chapter 5: Grief

Bellamy focused on the road as he drove down a highway littered with traffic. Clarke glanced at him, taking in his side profile which she had never quite gotten a decent look at before. His jaw was sharp and clean shaven, his dark curls fell in small swoops around his hairline. Clarke smiled to herself as she realized she had been staring for at least a minute, then followed Bellamy’s eyes back to the cars and semi-trailers. Now, she felt Bellamy staring at her, and she slowly turned her head so that they were making eye contact. He smiled warmly at her, and this time she noticed the dimple in his chin. Her face began to feel flushed, so she cracked her window open to welcome the warm, October air that brushed alongside Bellamy’s black Land Rover. She expected it to feel cool, and the warm air sending her hair into a frenzy reminded her that she was not yet used to the California weather. “Sorry that we have to wait in all of this traffic, princess,” Bellamy broke the silence, “this is L.A. for you,” he laughed.

“Oh, no, trust me, New York had its moments,” Clarke responded as she swiped a loose, blonde hair out of her face. She began to think about her home, how the trees in Central Park would be adorned with a spectrum of colors as the weather got colder. She felt homesick, and a pit in her stomach started to form as she thought about her parents.

“You miss it,” Bellamy interjected, “the east coast.” He turned the air conditioner on, switched it to a low setting, then told Clarke to close her eyes. He told her to imagine the city in October, what it smelled like, who she saw, what she ate. Tears began to form in Clarke’s eyes as she thought about her mother, all alone. October reminded her of the day that her father died, and the funeral thereafter. It was a nostalgic feeling that she was experiencing, but it was tender on her soul. As Clarke wiped the tears that trickled down her face, she opened her eyes to find that Bellamy had pulled over on the side of the highway.

“What are you doing, Bellamy?” Clarke inquired, blinking a few times to clear her vision.

“Clarke, I didn’t mean to upset you, I thought it might help you to cope with the move. I had no intention of overstepping boundaries or making you uncomfortable,” he answered apologetically. Clarke reached for his hand and gripped it tightly.

“I’m crying because I miss my parents, that’s all. What you did was very sweet,” Clarke sniffled. Bellamy reached for a tissue from the glove compartment with his free hand and placed it gently on her lap.

“I’m sorry that you’re missing your family. I want you to know that I’m here for you, and if you need to talk, I’ll listen,” he assured her. She was still holding his hand. “So your mother and father are still in New York, then?”

“Well...my mother is. My father died a few years ago, actually,” Clarke tried to smile through the pain of his memory. She looked at Bellamy with concern, then explained, “He was my guide, you know, and when he died...I felt like the whole world opened up beneath me, and the sky opened up, too, and I had nowhere to go, but get lost in this...in this disorienting state of mourning.” She sat with this thought for a moment, until Bellamy added,

“I know that feeling. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was young. It has just been Octavia and me ever since. We look out for each other.” Clarke had no idea that Bellamy and Octavia had dealt with similar grief, and now she wanted to hug Bellamy, hold him in her arms and feel him breathing against her.

“I’m so sorry, Bellamy,” she comforted. She knew how empty those words could sound, and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing to him in such a vulnerable moment for the two of them. She waited for his reply, but instead, he reached over the compartment between the seats and wrapped his arms around her. They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, Clarke wasn’t sure how long, but it felt right, to be clutched in Bellamy’s arms as they opened up to each other. When he finally loosened his grip, and pulled away, Clarke could see that tears were streaming from his eyes.

“It felt good to tell you that,” he told Clarke, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. Clarke reached for another tissue and instead of handing it to him, she held it up to his eyes and dabbed it softly against his skin. His eyes seemed a bit sad still, but something like affection or adoration rippled at the surface. “We should get back on the road,” Bellamy breathed as he put the car back in drive.

The car drove silently along through traffic as the radio played eighties and nineties rock hits. Bellamy’s head lightly bobbed forward and back as he followed the same cherry red car for five miles until he took the exit heading to their loft, and the red car continued moving with the traffic. They were almost home when Bellamy cut through the comfortable silence yet again.

“We’re all going to the bar later, where Murphy works, you should come,” he insisted. Clarke smirked and thought about the four of them going to the bar after work, or on a weekend, and how they probably talked about ridiculous things that made them break out in laughter. She wanted to be a part of that.

“I will,” she agreed.

#bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellamy x clarke #new girl #fan fic #fan fiction #the 100 #sorry for the wait #it's been a while #bellarke fanfiction

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fandomrewrites · 4 years ago

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Chasing Butterflies: Twilight’s Last Gleaming

Hello all! As always constructive criticism is appreciated and I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please let me know if your have any imagine requests or want to be added to any of my taglists.

Season 1; Episode 5: Twilight’s Last Gleaming Pairings: OC x OC best friends, no love interests chosen yet Warnings: Swearing and mild violence Word Count: 2,265

Season 1 Masterlist

"E! Nova! You guys gotta get up and see this!" Harper calls as she walks into the girls tent. She moves to shake Elara awake and turns to check that Nova is up when Elara blinks her eyes open. "Come on!" She says once more leaving the tent.

Elara and Nova share a look but stand up following Elara's old cellmate out of their tent. Elara stands with just a singlet and underwear and Nova in a sports bra and pants. Upon exiting the tent they see the rest of the delinquents looking up at something in the sky.

They follow their gazes to see a pod from the ark falling to Earth. "They're coming to help us. Now we can kick some grounder ass." Jones says from the girls left.

The rest of the delinquents cheer. Nova rolls her eyes as she hears Roma mutter, "Please tell me they brought some shampoo."

"I hope they sent weapons." Nova says.

"And medical supplies and warmer clothes." Elara adds.

Nova turns on her heel, heading back inside the tent. She throws on a shirt and her jacket then starts packing a small bag. A few minutes later Elara joins her back inside, "We're going, right?" Elara asks.

"I am. And I'll bring some others. You should stay behind though." Nova replies.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know where Clarke is right now. You need to stay here since you have medical experience."

Elara sighs, "Fine. Just be safe."

"Always am."

This comment makes Elara raise an eyebrow at the petite girl, "Please. Don't make me laugh." Nova smirks then walks past her and out of the tent.

"Octavia! Ready?" Nova calls.

Octavia nods, "Yeah, we just have to get Bellamy." Nova follows Octavia into the tent used for setting up plans, "We should get moving. Everyone's ready."

"No one's going anywhere. Not while it's dark it isn't safe. We'll head out at first light; pass the word." Bellamy answers.

"You aren't the boss of me in case you’ve forgotten. I'm going whether you like it or not." Nova snaps at the older boy.

"Can you please listen for once in your life." Bellamy sighs.

Octavia answers before Nova can argue, "Everyone for a hundred miles saw this thing come down. What if the grounders get to it first? Bell, we should go now."

"I said we wait till sunrise." He says once more.

Octavia huffs and leaves the tent, "I'm going. I don't care if I go alone. No grounder is going to get me. And you can't make me stay." Nova says. She turns on her heel to leave but Bellamy grabs her arm, stopping her.

"Nova, I'm serious. I don't want you getting hurt."

Nova carefully looks at Bellamy, "If you keep acting like that I'm going to start thinking you care about me, Blake."

Bellamy cracks a smile, "Maybe I do, angel."

"Well you know I can fight. A grounder doesn't have a chance against me. And if you're that concerned, come with me."

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

Nova tilts her head and smirks, "What made you think that?"

Bellamy rolls his eyes and finally let's go of her arm. "So, are you coming with me?" Nova asks.

Bellamy sighs, "Sorry for this, Nova." Nova opens her mouth to ask what he means but before any words leave her mouth Bellamy hits her over her head with a heavy stick, knocking her out.

Nova slumps over, Bellamy catching her before she hits the ground. He gently lays her down and walks past her out the tent, getting ready to leave the camp without anyone else's knowledge.

Outside of the tent Elara made herself busy talking with some of the other delinquents. After about 15 minutes Elara looks around, a concerned look plastered on her face. "Have any of you seen Nova?"

The delinquents around her shake their heads, "She probably left." Atlas says.

Elara turns her head to look at her ex-boyfriend. "Bellamy said to wait until sunrise."

"Like she would listen to him. Come on, Elara. You're her best friend. Don't you know her better than that?"

Elara rolls her eyes, "Did anyone see her leave?"

"I didn't."

"Then help me look for her. If she's not here then you're probably right."

This time Atlas rolls his eyes, but rather than arguing he turns around to start looking for Nova. Not thinking that he would actually find her, he pushes open the tent that they use to discuss plans. His eyes immediately find the petite girl.

He sticks his head out of the tent, "Elara! I found her!" He yells for the brunette. Hearing his calls she quickly runs out of the dropship and to the tent. She rushes over to Nova and gently shakes her awake.

Atlas stands over her shoulder, watching the interaction. "Nov? Nova, wake up." Elara quietly says.

Nova finally wakes up groaning and raising her hand to the side of her head. "I'm going to kill Bellamy." She grunts out.

"What? What did he do?" Elara asks.

"He fucking knocked me out. What a piece of shit."

Nova pushes herself off the ground, almost making herself lose her balance. "Be careful! You might have a concussion!"

"I'll be fine once I kill him."

"Nova Marie Kane!" Elara scolds.

Nova looks at her shocked, "Did you just mom me?" Elara glares, "Sorry, not funny. But seriously I feel fine. Just incredibly pissed off. Can I please go find Bellamy so I can kill him now?"

Without waiting for a reply Nova pushes past Elara and Atlas. She walks outside the tent at the same time that Clarke and Finn enter the camp. "Did you guys see that? You know it's from the Ark, right? It has to be." Fox tells the two delinquents.

"Grab your stuff. Let's find out." Clarke replies.

"Bellamy said we're gonna wait until sunrise." Fox says.

"Where is he?" Clarke asks, starting to walk towards his tent.

"Don't bother. He already left. Let's go." Nova says. She angrily walks past delinquents, who are literally jumping out of her way. She exits the camp, Clarke and Finn on her heels.

"What do you mean? How do you know he already left?" Finn asks.

"Because the asshole knocked me out so I didn't leave. Whatever is in that pod he wants bad. And he has a head start."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Just as the sun begins to rise, the trio of delinquents arrive at the area where the pod landed. "Should we split up?" Clarke asks.

"Yeah. You go that way, Clarke." Finn says, gesturing to the left. "You can check that way." He gestures to the right.

Nova and Clarke nod, "Stay within yelling distance." Nova says, walking away from the other two.

After wandering aimlessly for a few minutes Nova turns around to head back the way she came. She makes it to the pod just in time to see a girl kissing Finn. "Well, that's one way to greet someone." Nova says.

Nova looks towards Clarke, seeing that Clarke looks rather annoyed. Her attention is brought back to Finn and the girl when Finn asks, "How did you get here?"

"You know that big scraphold? The one on K deck?" She answers.

"You built that from scrap?"

"I kind of rebuilt it." Finn laughs in response.

"You're insane." He says with a shake of his head.

"I'd do more for you and worse. Just like you would for me." She staggers into Finn's arms.

"Come on, sit down." Finn says. He leads her over to a rock and takes his jacket off to put around her.

Clarke and Nova finally walk over to the couple, "You need to put pressure on her wound." Clarke says, handing Finn an ice pack.

"Thanks," The girl says.

"This is Clarke and Nova. They were on the dropship too. This is Raven." Finn introduces.

"Clarke? This was all because of your mom."

"My mom?" Clarke asks, shock evident in her voice.

"This was all her plan. We were trying to come down here together. If we waited-" She cuts herself off, "Oh my God. We couldn't wait because the council was voting whether to kill three hundred people to save air."

"When?" Clarke asks in a panic.

"Today. We have to tell them you're alive." We all move back to the pod. Raven reaches inside, "The radio's gone." She says, moving back to face the other three.

"That jackass." Nova curses. She squeezes her hand into a fist and punches the pod. She hisses in pain as the sensitive skin on her knuckles comes into contact with the metal.

Clarke reaches over to Nova in concern but Nova pushes her away, "I'm fine. We have to head back. We need to find him."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Spotting Bellamy, Nova quickly runs over and punches the older boy across the face. She shoves him against a tree and pulls out her knife, holding it against his neck, "I should kill you." She hisses out, glaring.

Bellamy glares back but doesn't say anything, knowing that he deserves this. "Where the hell is it Bellamy?" Clarke asks from behind Nova.

"Where's what?" He questions, playing dumb.

"They're getting ready to kill three hundred people up there to save oxygen, and I can guarantee you it won't be council members. It'll be working people, your people."

"Where's the radio?" Finn asks.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Bellamy says once more.

"Stop playing dumb Blake." Nova says through clenched teeth.

"Blake? Bellamy Blake? They're looking everywhere for you." Raven says.

Nova turns her head to look at the girl but doesn't stop pressing her knife to his throat. "Why are they looking for him?" Clarke asks.

"Shut up." Bellamy grunts out.

"He shot Chancellor Jaha." Raven replies.

"That's why you took the wristbands. Needed everyone to think we're dead." Clarke says.

"All that whatever the hell we want? You just care about saving your own skin." Finn glares at Bellamy.

Nova scoffs and finally backs away, shaking her head. "Where the hell is the radio Bellamy?" She asks.

Bellamy rolls his eyes," Jaha deserved to die. You all know that."

"Yeah, he's not my favorite person either, but he isn't dead." Raven replies.

"What?"

"You're a lousy shot."

Clarke steps closer to Bellamy, "Bellamy, don't you see what this means? You're not a murderer. You always did what you had to do to protect your sister. That's who you are. And you can do it again by protecting three hundred of your people. Where's the radio?"

Bellamy hesitates, then sighs, "It's too late."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

After regrouping at the camp and bringing more delinquents out to help look for the radio, the group stood in the river where Bellamy threw the radio.

Bellamy moves towards Elara, "It's going to take a long time for Nova to forgive me, isn't it?" He asks.

Elara looks at him, "Why does that matter to you?"

Bellamy shrugs, "I don't know. I guess it was kinda nice with her not hating me all the time. But I fucked up big time."

"Yeah, you did."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes. But I don't hold grudges. I know you did it to protect Octavia."

Bellamy nods, "Hey! I found it!" Jones calls bringing Elara and Bellamy's attention away from each other.

They all run over, "Can you fix it?" Clarke asks Raven.

"Maybe, but it'll take half the day just to dry out the components to see what's broken." Raven answers.

"Like I said, it's too late." Bellamy replies.

Clarke marches up to Bellamy and shoves his chest, "Do you have any idea what you did? Do you even care?"

"You asked me to help. I helped."

"Is there any other way we can let them know that we're alive?" Nova asks, stopping any arguing.

"You mean without a radio?" Finn asks.

"Yeah, I have an idea." Raven replies, smiling brightly at Nova. "You're a genius."

Nova shrugs, "I've been called a lot of things but never a genius." She then flashes one of her rare smiles, "I like it."

Elara can't help the laugh that escapes her lips.

*_*_*_*_*_*

As night falls, the group of delinquents get ready to launch flares. The group quickly gets everything set up and lights the flares. The rockets blast off, the delinquents all looking up at them in awe.

Clarke, Bellamy, Elara, and Nova stand next to each other watching the rockets light up the sky. "You think they can see it from up there?" Bellamy asks the girls.

"I don't know. I hope so." Clarke replies.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough." Nova says.

"Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?" Clarke asks. The three others turn to give her questioning looks, "Forget it."

They turn their heads back to the flares, "I wouldn't even know what to wish for. What about you?" Bellamy questions.

"I would wish for my parents to be here with me." Elara says.

Nova hums, "I would want to go back in time."

"For what?" Bellamy asks.

"So that I never went to councilman Abraham's place."

"Didn't he die from a heart attack?" Elara asks.

"Nope. He's the guy I killed."

"Didn't you say he deserved it though? Why would you want to stop yourself from killing him?"

Nova shakes her head, "That’s not what I- Forget it. It’s not important.”

#The 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 rewrite

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

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Sub Rosa [39]

x. fallen

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: language, bleeding, fighting, death, violence, general angst.

Summary: Bellamy learns the news of Lincoln’s fate, and Octavia lashes out. from Arkadia, Monty calls and asks for help, sending you on a rescue mission.

a/n: hi just a heads up that TOMORROW IS MY BIRTHDAY, so I probably wont be that active!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Octavia’s cries for Lincoln quickly turn to anger.

You can see it set in her face, feel it rolling off of her in thick tidal waves, and you know that no matter Octavia does, she’ll get revenge for Lincoln.

She turns away and walks back to Helios, the mood of the group somber as she takes his lead from Harper and starts to walk to the cave. There’s nothing the rest of you can do except follow, everyone quiet as the rain soaks you to the bone and hides your tears. You feel your heart crack open at the thought of Lincoln being gone, forever, sacrificed to keep his people safe. Nothing you do will bring him, or his quiet wisdom, or his intense sparring sessions, or his kind comfort, back. Lincoln is dead, by Pike’s hand, and you were almost dead too. The same way you want to honor Gina with your life, you want to do the same for Lincoln. All he ever wanted was peace, and a life with Octavia. He’ll never get the latter, but maybe the rest of you can achieve peace in his name, his memory.

At some point, Miller pulls ahead again, and Octavia drops back to walk with you. You know there’s nothing you can say to ease her pain, so you reach out and grab her hand, letting her know that you’re there for her. You walk the rest of the way to the cave hand in hand, but she drops it when you get there so she can tie up Helios.

You follow the others inside, Ocatvia beside you still, and as you come around the corner you see Bellamy. You let out a little gasp at the sight of him, chained up to the wall, unable to go anywhere. He looks relieved when he sees you and Octavia both alive and well, but he catches on to the mood of the group quickly. You see his eyes bounce over everyone one after the next, before he realizes who’s missing. “Where’s Lincoln?”

Octavia turns away from him, pulling her sword, Lincoln’s sword, off her back and setting it on the ground at her feet. You see her fighting back tears as she answers, “Pike put a bullet in his brain.”

“O…” He trails off, begging her to look at him, but she ignores him and pulls her wet jacket off, dropping it on top of the sword. “O, I’m so sorry.”

You can see the change again, can practically feel Octavia pushing her heartbreak down and pulling out her anger instead. It’s lighting fast, but it’s written all over her face, and you have half a second to register the change before she spins around quickly and punches Bellamy across the face. Everyone in the cave shifts slightly, towards Octavia and Bellamy, you included, all eyes on the siblings, waiting to see if you need to intervene.

The force of Octavia’s punch knocks Bellamy’s head to the side, and he looks up at her in shock, before she punches him again, once with her right fist and then with her left. You step forward, grabbing her arm. “Octavia, stop.”

She turns and pushes you down, blinded by anything but anger, and Kane steps closer to the pair of you. “Octavia, that’s enough.”

Bellamy looks over at him, blood already starting to mark his skin. “Kane, stay out of this.”

Octavia stands panting, watching her brother, before she continues her assault, hitting him wherever she can reach: his arms, stomach, face. You can hear her sobs in between the sounds of the punches, and everyone turns away from the scene, unable to watch. You stay frozen on the ground, still watching, unsure what to do. Miller is the only one still watching alongside you, and as soon as Octavia knocks Bellamy to the ground, he closes the space between them and grabs her arm, pulling her away. “Okay, stop. That’s enough.”

She turns and punches him in the chest, knocking him back, into Bryan’s arms. You scramble to your feet as Bellamy pants, “Miller, back off.”

He pulls himself to his feet, blood all over his face, and as she punches him again you walk towards them, unable to watch anymore. She knocks him to the ground as you reach her, and you wrap your arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides. She struggles for a second, tears falling down her face, before she finally goes slack in your arms. She stares down at Bellamy, her face a storm of emotions, and he looks up at her from her spot on the ground. “You’re dead to me.”

You see his face fall, her words devastating him more than her fists ever could. Octavia shrugs you off and storms out of the cave, and everyone stands frozen for a minute, unsure what to do. Bellamy pulls himself into a sitting position, tucking his knees to his chest, and avoids everyone’s gaze as he processes Octavia’s words. You look at Kane and nod in the direction Octavia ran off in, and he nods, standing to follow her. You move to one of the packs and grab a first aid kit, before walking to Bellamy and plopping down in front of him. He glances up just enough to know that it’s you, before dropping his head again. You reach out, tip his chin up so his gaze meets yours, and eye his face.

He’s covered in blood, but you can’t tell where it’s coming from, though you suspect it's from a few places. You reach for the first aid kit and start to wipe away the blood, wordlessly cleaning him up as his eyes roam over your face. As you’re applying antiseptic to his wounds, he whispers, “What happened?”

You glance back, making sure Octavia isn’t nearby, and answer, “Pike said there was going to be an execution today, and if we didn’t turn ourselves in, it’d be the prisoners.”

You see that unreadable expression settle on Bellamy’s face again, and you hate it, how closed off it makes you feel, but you say nothing. He’s quiet as you clean him up, clearly lost in his thoughts, and you struggle with whether to say something to him, or leave him in his head. Ultimately, you keep quiet, deciding to let him process things on his own, for now. When you finish, you stand, turning to leave, but he reaches out to grab your hand, stopping you. “Lexa’s dead. Indra left to meet the new commander.”

You feel the breath leave your lungs as he says it, thinking about Clarke, and the loss of someone special to her. You realize now that you were so focused on Lincoln’s death and Octavia’s reaction that you didn’t even notice Indra’s absence. You nod, thanking him for the information, before returning the first aid kit to the pack and joining the others, passing along the information.

Kane returns with Octavia less than an hour later, and they find you all sitting around the fire, talking quietly about nothing. No one wants to address the elephant in the room, or the traitor in the cave, so the conversation is kept to light topics.

When Kane and Octavia return, they join the circle, and you all fall into silence, turning to look at Kane. “We need to talk about next steps.”

Bryan is the first to speak up. “I say we run two men patrols around the clock, starting now.”

“We'll do that but we should be safe here. The Grounder blockade's too close for Pike to risk looking for us.”

“Yeah, but are we safe from the blockade?”

“As long as we stay on this side of the line, we should be.”

You give Kane a serious look. “None of that will matter if we give Pike to the Grounders.”

Miller agrees, “We take him out, we can go home.”

Kane nods, already on the same page. “That's right. We become the thirteenth clan again. Those were the terms.”

Sinclair shrugs, “Lexa's terms. If what Bellamy said is true and she's dead, how do we know the next commander will honor them?”

“One problem at a time.”

“The only thing that matters now is killing Pike.” Octavia’s voice is flat when she says it, her mind focused only on Pike’s death as she sharpens her sword.

“Octavia's right. So how do we do it?”

Before anyone can offer up any ideas, a radio to your left crackles to life with Monty’s voice. “Bellamy, come in. It's Monty, I'm in trouble. Please say you still have your radio.”

You pick up the radio, looking at it, and Sinclair puts a hand over yours. “If we respond and Pike's listening-”

Bellamy cuts him off, “Go to channel seven. ‘Please say you still have your radio.’ That's seven words after the word trouble. It's code, go to seven.”

You turn and look at him, scanning his face for any signs of deceit, but you find none. You turn back to Kane, who nods, and you change the channel before passing the radio to him. “Monty, it's Kane. What's wrong?”

“Pike knows that I helped you get out.”

You can hear a sigh of defeat pass through the circle, before Kane asks, “Can you get to the dropship?”

“I think so.”

“Good, go there, I'll bring you in. Stay off the radio. Over and out.”

Harper turns to Kane, looking worried. “Hold on, what if it's a trap and Pike's waiting?”

“That's why I'm going alone.”

Octavia glares and stands when Kane does, “Like hell you are.”

You stand as she says it, adding, “You’ve lost it if you think I’m not going with you.”

Kane looks between the two of you, sighing. “If it is a trap, I'm not marching our entire insurgency into it, so you two and you two alone are coming with me.”

Octavia nods to Bellamy, still chained to the wall, silent since the tip about the radio. “He's coming too. We’ll need a hostage to trade for Monty.”

Kane looks at Bellamy, thinking it over, before agreeing. “That's a good plan. He stays chained, and gag him.”

You turn to Kane is shock, protesting at the same time as Miller. “Kane-”

“Sir, with all due respect-”

Kane cuts you both off, snapping, “He's the enemy. Do what I said.”

“You were the enemy once too. So were we.” You give him a long look, before glancing over at Miller, the only other one on your side, and when he drops his head, you sigh, conceding. “Fine.”

You walk over to one of the packs, pulling out one of the strips of fabric for bandages, before moving back to Bellamy. Miller comes over with the keys to the chain, detaching it from the wall, but keeping it on Bellamy’s hands, and Bellamy stays still the entire time, letting you both work. Miller passes you the keys before he steps back, and you shove them into your pocket. And then you lift the gag to his mouth, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

He lets you slip it between his teeth, and you pull it around to the back of his head, securing it in place. You turn and look at Kane, who grabs one of the rifles, and Octavia, who is busy strapping her sword on her back. You lead Bellamy to the entrance of the cave, waiting for the others, and when they finally appear, Kane tries to pass you the rifle. “In case he acts out.”

You roll your eyes and push it away. “I’m not going to shoot Bellamy. If he runs, he runs.”

He sighs and pulls the strap over his chest, taking it himself, before he nods to the entrance. “Lead the way.”

You turn and grab Bellamy’s arm, leading him out of the cave, Kane and Octavia right behind you. They both have their weapons out, ready to attack if necessary, and you have to resist the urge to say something. Because despite Bellamy being on Pike’s side, he’s not the enemy. Not really. An asshole maybe, blinded by his pain, but not the enemy.

The walk to the dropship doesn’t take long, and before you know it, you can see the remains of the gate up ahead. Kane and Octavia press closer to you, Kane now turning his gun towards Bellamy’s back. You stop just inside the walls, and Kane yells out, “Monty?”

You all wait, listening for a response, eyes searching the camp for a sign of life, but you hear nothing, see nothing. Kane whispers, “We got here first.”

He pushes on Bellamy’s back, urging him forward again, but he only manages to take three steps before Octavia lifts her sword to Bellamy’s throat and mutters, “No we didn't.”

You turn to her in surprise, “Octavia, what are you doing?”

She doesn’t answer you, just keeps her eyes on the dropship door as she yells, “Get outside! Now!”

Monty slips out the door, slowly, hands raised, followed by the barrel of a gun. You glare as Pike comes into view, his weapon trained on the back of Monty’s head, who apologizes. “He followed me. I'm sorry.”

“Let him go, Pike!”

“I can't do that.” He says something into his radio, quiet enough that you can’t hear, and a second later a bullet whizzes towards you, lodging into the dirt by your feet. You all jump in surprise, turning to look at the closeness of the impact, as Pike adds, “It's over. Put down your weapons.”

Octavia whispers, “Shoot him.”

“Monty's in the shot.”

“Come on, Marcus. I promised Monty's mother that I'd bring him home alive. Don't make me a liar.”

You turn and look at Kane, waiting for his instructions, and he lowers his gun as he steps away from Bellamy. You step away too, lifting your hands in surrender, and Octavia protests, “No, don’t.”

Kane pulls his gun off and drops it at his feet, lifting his hands in surrender. Pike glares at Octavia, who still has her sword to her brother’s neck. “Now you.”

She pulls Bellamy closer, wrapping her arm around his neck to get a better angle. You and Kane both protest, but she ignores you. Pike lifts his radio again, and you can see Bellamy tense, both of you guessing what the next command is. Bellamy ducks under Octavia’s arm, twisting it back painfully, forcing her to drop her sword. Pike whistles, and hidden guards move into the camp, making a beeline for all of you. They pull out cuffs to restrain you, while another holds a gun to your head. Bellamy pulls his gag from his mouth as Pike walks towards him, looking him over. “You don't look so good.”

“I'm fine.”

“You’ve got about five seconds to make me believe you're still with me.”

Bellamy deadpans, “All the others are in a cave not far from here.”

You yell out his name, angry that he would sell out the others, just like that. No hesitation at all. He turns to look at you, a flash of something passing over his face, but you can’t tell what. Octavia turns towards Bellamy, just as angry as you are, screaming, “You son of a bitch!”

She runs towards him, ready to attack, and Gillmer pulls out his shock baton and zaps her with it, the force of it taking her to the ground. You try to move towards her, to go check on her, but the guard in front of you steps closer, pressing the gun to your forehead. You look up at him, glaring, lifting your chin in defiance, daring him to pull the trigger.

“Give me the coordinates.”

You Glance over at Bellamy, gun still pressed to your head, and he shakes his head. “I don't have the coordinates. But I can take you there.”

“Good.” He turns to the other guards. “Gag them.”

The guard in front of you steps away to get a gag, but Gillmer beats him to it, coming to stand in front of you, holding the gag up with a smirk. “Not much of a fighter now, are you?”

You look up at him, eyes landing on his nose, set differently from before, a cut across the bridge of it. You smirk in return, looking up to meet his eyes. “Nice nose. Little crooked now though.”

His smirk drops into a glare and he punches you in the stomach, the force of it sending all the air from your lungs in a whoosh. You double over, letting out a pained groan, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t you worry, soon you’ll be just like your friend Lincoln. Dead.”

The words send a wave of rage through you, angered that he’d even say Lincoln’s name, and you try to leap at him, yelling as you do. But the guard at your back expects the move and wraps his arms around you, holding you back as you kick and thrash, trying to get to Gillmer, who stands in front of you, smirking again. Bellamy walks over to him, holding out his hand for the gag. “I’ll do it.”

“No, I can-”

His voice is firm when he cuts him off. “I’ve got it.”

Gillmer slaps the gag into Bellamy’s palm, turning to stalk off, and you calm your fighting enough to let Bellamy approach you. He reaches into your pocket and pulls out the keys to his cuffs, quickly freeing himself before he steps toward you, gag lifted, voice scolding. “Stop fighting.”

“I’m nothing but fight.”

He sighs and holds the gag right in front of your mouth, waiting for you to comply the way he did, and you look down at the gag and back to him before opening your mouth just enough. He slips it between your teeth before reaching back to secure it behind your head. His mouth is right at your ear, and he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

He pulls away, stepping back and turning to nod at Pike, letting him know he’s ready, leaving you to wonder what shitty thing he’s apologizing for, because the list is getting long.

You all trudge through the woods back towards the cave, hands cuffed and mouths gagged. Bellmay leads the way, Pike at his side, and you and Octavia follow closely behind them. Her gaze never leaves the back of Pike’s head, staring daggers at him. If looks could kill and all that.

Kane is behind you, and Monty behind him, and the guards are all dotted between you, sticking close. Gillmer is behind you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on your back, leaving you feeling uneasy. As Pike walks beside Bellamy, you can hear their conversation drift back towards you. “You sure about the route? We're getting close to the blockade line.”

“That's why Kane set up out here. He didn't think we'd risk it.”

We. You feel a wave of nausea roll over you. “Well, he was wrong.”

Bellamy glances back at you and Octavia, and his voice drops slightly, but you can still make out his question. “What's gonna happen to my sister? I know she has to answer for her crimes but-”

You glance at Octavia, watching her glare shift from Pike to her brother. “Tell you what, I'll make you the same promise I made Monty's mother. Immunity for all past actions, but if she screws up again…”

“Oh, she won't. I'll make sure of it. My sister, my responsibility.”

Octavia’s glare deepens, and you can practically feel the scoff she’s trying to hold back. Bellamy glances back again, eyes focusing on you, before turning to Pike. “What about...those that were sentenced to death?”

“I told you, crimes against our leadership can’t be tolerated. Miss Griffin and Kane will die for their crimes. We need to set an example.”

You tense up, turning back to glance at Kane, who seems to understand the conversation being had at the front. Though you expected nothing less from Pike, hearing that your execution will resume as soon as you’re back at camp is not a comforting thing. You turn your gaze back to the front, eyeing the tension in Bellamy’s shoulders, something you’re sure wasn’t there a few minutes ago.

You watch as he turns off the path to the cave, and starts to walk down a hill, towards the blockade line. Your brows furrow, confused, because this new path takes you away from the cave, not towards it. Pike realizes the closeness of the blockade line, and holds up a closed fist to stop his people. “Hold on.”

“The cave's just on the other side.”

You want to turn and look at Kane, to see if he realizes what’s going on, but you don’t want to risk exposing Bellamy’s intentions. Instead, when Pike gives the order to continue walking, you keep your eyes on the treeline, looking for the Grounders, but saying nothing.

When you reach the bottom of the hill, a horn echoes through the air, signaling their arrival. “The blockade! Anybody got eyes?”

The guards all spread out, turning in circles, looking for the Grounders that are no doubt hidden in the trees. When they see nothing, Pike yells, “Back to higher ground!”

You glance at Bellamy to judge his reaction, looking over just in time for him to pull Pike’s pistol from his thigh holster and point it at the man. “Drop your weapon!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

Bellamy’s command is so forceful it makes your brows lift in surprise. “Drop your weapon!”

To your right, you see Gillmer turning towards Bellamy, lining up his gun, and you channel all of your force into your hands and hit him in the stomach. While he’s still caught off guard by the move, you hit him hard in the head, splitting your knuckles, knocking him out the way Lincoln showed you. You pull your gag from your mouth and turn to look at Bellamy.

“We bring you Chancellor Pike of the Sky People!” Bellamy turns to look at his sister, who is still taking everything in. “O, translate.”

She slides her gag from her mouth, and yells, “Osir lid yo in Chansla Paik kom Skaikru!”

Pike glares at Bellamy. “You've killed us all!”

Bellamy ignores him and tells Octavia, “Take him and lift this blockade.”

“Teik em in, ban disha treibloka we!”

All of the guards that are still standing in between your group are shot down, killed with arrows. As they hit the ground, Grounders come towards you from all sides, dropping from the trees, materializing from the bushes, slipping from their camouflage hiding. Octavia leans down and pulls a knife from her boot, one they clearly forgot to take from her when they took your weapons, and she turns towards Pike.

You realize what she’s going to do and you step towards her, but Kane beats you there, pulling the gag from his mouth to say, “Hey, hey, no. The Grounders are gonna need him alive. They didn't get justice for Finn, so we won't get away with that again.”

Pike, who must have been listening, turns to Bellamy, ready to take his gun. “In that case-”

He is cut off by an arrow flying towards him and lodging into his shoulder, knocking him to the ground, and one of the Grounders descends on him and knocks him out. Four men walk to Pike and each of them grabs one of his limbs, as Kane tries to follow. “Where are you taking him?”

“To the new commander.”

“May I join you?” He pulls up his sleeve, revealing the mark of the coalition. “We're the thirteenth clan.”

“Don't slow us down.”

You step up to Kane and grab his arm to stop him. “Are you sure? We know nothing about the new commander.”

“I'm sure. Go home, tell our people what happened here. Tell Abby…” He trails off, trying to find the right words to say, before shaking his head and giving you a small smile. “I'll look out for Clarke.”

You nod, and he surprises you by stepping forward and pulling you into a hug. It’s quick, almost like he’s embarrassed he even did it, so you smile at him when he pulls away, letting him know you didn’t mind. “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again.” He turns to follow the Grounders, but as he passes Bellamy, he stops. “Did you do this for them? Or because it was the right thing to do?”

“You're welcome.”

As Bellamy tries to walk away, Kane grabs his arm to stop him. “It matters. Until you see that, you'll still be lost.”

You see Bellamy’s jaw clench, before Kane lets him go and turns to leave with the Grounders. Monty is standing nearby, staring down at the dead guards, and Bellamy stops at his side. “My mom turned me in.”

Bellamy glances over at Octavia, and then you. “You're family. You'll work it out.”

Before anyone can say anything else, you hear a groan from the body near your feet, and look down to see Gillmer waking up. Octavia closes the space between them and lifts the knife from earlier and plunges it into his chest. He groans, struggling to breathe for a second before his head lulls to the side, and he takes his last breath. Octavia looks up from his dead body, and you follow her vision over to Bellamy as she mutters, “Jus drein jus daun.”

Blood must have blood. It takes you a second to remember that beyond Gillmer’s usual asshole behavior, he was one of the main guards that threatened Lincoln, and he was the guard that threw a rock at Lincoln at the memorial. You look down at his dead body, and feel no sorrow, glad that he’s gone.

Octavia wipes the blood from the blade on Gillmer’s shirt, before holding it out to you. “I believe this is yours.”

You finally realize that it’s your Grounder knife, the one the guards took from you when they arrested you. “Thanks, I was wondering if I’d get it back.”

She kneels down and starts stripping the guards for gear, and you grab the holster from Gillmer’s thigh for your knife. As you strap it on, you glance at her. “Wait, how’d you get it?”

“It was on Bellamy when I searched him.”

You hum, but say nothing else, just kneel down to help Octavia take anything useful off the guards. Later, after you distribute the gear between you, Bellamy, Monty, and Octavia, you’re walking back towards the cave, ready to tell the others what happened. Bellamy comes up to walk with you as you lead the way, and you walk side by side in silence for a while, before you finally ask, “Did you only do this for us? Because Kane’s right, if you still agree with everything Pike did and you’d do it all over again, you’re still lost.”

“I didn’t agree with everything he did. I didn’t want to kill the wounded when we went to that army, I saved Indra’s life, I protested the attack on the Grounder village, I spoke up for you and Kane after your sentencing. I came to Octavia to save your life.”

He whispers the last sentence, and you’re reminded of his conflict, and all the times you’ve seen him struggle with the leadership he chose to endorse. You know you should be angry, hold a grudge like Octavia and make him earn your forgiveness, but you don’t have it in you. Not with him, and not after nearly getting executed in the last 24 hours.

“It’s behind us now. Now, we start over. We’ll fix things in Arkadia and fix our relationship with the Grounders. We can work for peace, real, lasting peace. Build a life and a future that isn’t full of fighting and killing.”

You reach out for his hand, and as you make contact, he pulls away. You look over at him in confusion, and you can see that he’s wound tight, ready to pop. He whispers, “What if I’m nothing but fight? Nothing more than that?”

You shake your head, surprised at the way he twisted your earlier words. “You’re more than that, Bellamy. You always have been. You’re kind, and smart, and strong, and you’d do anything for your people.”And then you see it, the guilt weighing down on him for everything he’s done, the belief that he’s worth nothing more than the fight to survive. “You deserve more than fighting to survive. You deserve peace, too. Happiness. A future.”

“You’re wrong.” He snaps it at you, so fiercely that you feel yourself pull away from him on instinct. He notices right away and his face falls, before he walks away from you in a hurry, dropping back to trail behind the group.

You glance back at him and then back to the path, nearly at the cave now, and you know there’s nothing you can do at this point. Others will forgive him, some quickly, some slowly, but none of it will matter until he forgives himself. Until then, you can stay by his side, offer your support, and hope he sees that.

next chapter

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #the 100 #the 100 rewrite #the 100 fanfiction

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years ago

Text

Banished (Part 38)

*Not my Gif*

~Banished Master~

Summary: When the 100 was sent to the ground, Y/N Y/L/N was one of them. Having been locked up for almost 8 years, how will she react to surviving on Earth? Especially when she gets banished…

Post Date: 3-21-20

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 6.5K (wait... what?)

~Master~

~The 100 Master~

*Based off episode 3x09 of the 100, Stealing Fire*

Previously…

“Y/N YL/N, for the crimes of treason, kidnapping, and attempted murder,” Bellamy found himself standing straighter, his hands falling to his sides fast when he took a step forward, mentally pleading that Pike wouldn’t finished his sentence. That you’d get one more chance. That this wasn’t the end for you. “I hereby sentence you to death.”

Bellamy couldn’t breathe.

You didn’t move. You didn’t blink. You didn’t protest or say anything. Bellamy couldn’t believe it, he didn’t want to believe that after everything this was how it was going to end, with him watching a pair of guards hoist you to your feet and out the room, straight into the cell without a second word.

Bellamy brought a hand to his face, wiping beneath his eyes because he could’ve sworn his were watery. “Sir we’re killing our own people now?” Bellamy asked Pike the moment your body was pulled from the room. Pike sighed, putting his hands on his hips under his jacket as he looked at him.

“We’re at war. Crimes against leadership won’t be tolerated.”

“And she dies to be an example?” Bellamy lowered his voice, hoping the new level will keep him from showing his emotions but Pike saw right through him. The older man spared a glance to the door.

“Y/N’s actions put this whole camp at risk. I know what she means to you,” Bellamy adverted his eyes. “But am I making an example of her? Damn right I am, and I hope their executions make it clear where our people’s allegiances lie.” He finished as Bellamy quirked a brow.

“Their?”

Pike nodded, moving amongst the room to the door before looking back. “Their. Kane and Sinclair were in on this, they will be examples as well.” Bellamy’s eyes widened as Pike straightened his back. “Do I make myself clear?” Bellamy didn’t know what to do, but ultimately, he hesitated before nodding. Pike held the door open for him, dismissing him as Bellamy shuffled out fast. As soon as he left, he went looking for Monty, trying to think of how to reverse this whole situation.

Kane was pacing back and forth in the cell, Sinclair watching him the whole time until the door to the open to show you being escorted by 4 guards, two of them holding your biceps. You tried to pull yourself free from them briefly, but they held on strong and soon you gave up, closing your eyes before hearing Kane say your name.

You looked up, seeing all the grounders looking at you as well as Sinclair and Kane himself. You were shoved into the cell rather harshly as you glared at the man to your right. He didn’t say anything, just unlocking your hands and closing the door behind you. Kane was the first to step forward, his mouth opening to say something, but you just shook your head.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I failed.” Your voice cracked as Kane finished off the final distance, pulling you into his embrace. You let him wrap his arms around you and you tucked your head against his chest, feeling him hold his hand against the back of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay Y/N.” He said as you nodded against him, not coming out of his embrace as you looked up at him.

“I’m being executed.” you told him. Kane felt like he was punched in the stomach as his hold on you tightened. He licked his lip, glancing around him at all the crestfallen people around him. You didn’t need him to say anything for you to know he had no clue what to do.

You messed up.

You should’ve killed Pike.

You messed everything up.

Bellamy and Monty stood in the hallways of the ark. “What happened in there?” Monty asked Bellamy who placed his hands on his hips, his eyes wide as he liked his lips.

“They’re gonna execute her. They’re gonna execute Y/N. Kane, Sinclair, and Lincoln too.” He told Monty who sighed, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

“We have to do something. I mean, Sinclair, Kane, even Lincoln are one thing, but Y/N? I mean she’s one of us. She’s practically family now.” Monty said and Bellamy ignored the way his chest clenched at his words because to him, Monty was right. He wasn’t going to let this happen. “What about Harper and Miller?” Monty questioned, thinking about the last two of your accomplices. No sooner than he got the words out did Hannah, his mother, came through the set of doors next to them, stopping their conversation.

“Nicely done today.” She told them both with a smile that Bellamy wanted to peal off her face. In no way what today was nice. Were you able to identify anyone Kane and Y/N were working with?” Monty slowly looked up at her as Bellamy almost immediately answered a no, making Hannah eye him curiously. Monty followed with his eyes before shaking his head, lying to his own mother. Hannah knew something was up, but looked past it, reminding them about the correct sides of this war. “It’s not hard choosing what’s best for your people, isn’t it?”

Bellamy looked at her, biting the inside of his cheek as he again answered with a slight shake of his head. “No. I do it every day.” He spoke, similar words to his ordeals earlier but this time his ‘people’ were different. This time he was going to whatever was best for you. Because to him, right now you were the only ‘people’ that mattered.

Back in Polis, things have been going down since Lexa’s death. Clarke and Murphy were stuck in Polis thanks to the blockade and at the sound of a horn echoing throughout the city, they knew the conclave was to begin. The bed in the room was still covered in Lexa’s blood, slowly dripping onto the floor as Clarke stared at it. Murphy watched from across the room as Clarke seemed to snap out of her daze, pulling her eyes away from her love’s blood and pounding on the door.

“Clarke.” Murphy said in between her pounds as they stopped. “I’m sorry. I knew how much she meant to you.” He apologized, thinking about the prospect of finding Emori, the girl had grown to care about being in the same situation.

Clarke didn’t spare the boy a glance as she deflected her emotions. “This isn’t about me. We have to make sure Aden wins this conclave.” The door opened as Titus walked through it, barely glancing up as Murphy scoffed.

“What, you come here to finish the job?” Murphy asked bitterly, subconsciously talking a step back as he remembers all the torture ensued at Titus’ hands. Titus handed over some clothes to each of them before stepping back.

“I’m fulfilling a vow made to Lexa. Put these on.” He told them. Clarke looked at the grounder clothes with disgust as Murphy followed directions, putting the coat over his own.

He glanced over at Clarke, seeing her make no move to change. “The door we’ve been trying to open for the last 24 hours is open Clarke. Let’s use it.” He reminded her but Clarke ignored him, turning to Titus and throwing the clothes back at him.

“You killed your commander. How are you still free?” She asked him, biting back her words not to scream.

“I’m the only Fleimkepa.” He told her as she scoffed. “Please, if you go now, you can slip in the crowds arriving for the conclave.” He told her as Murphy stepped up, grabbing her arm.

“Clarke, Let’s go.”

“I need to see Aden.” She told Titus.

“That’s out of the question. The Natblidas have begun the purification ritual.” Titus informed her. After Clarke demanded once again to see him, Titus led them both to where the Natblidas, the Nightbloods, were in ritual. 5 nightbloods knelt on the ground, watching as Aden stuck his hand into a container of red powder and stood in front of a dead Lexa.

“Hofli Keryon kom Heda na sad ai op.” Aden whispered into the air as he sprinkled the red powder over Lexa’s dead body.

May the Spirit of the Commander choose me.

The door opened to reveal Clarke, Murphy and Titus standing in the doorway as Aden turned to look. Clarke asked to speak with Aden who offered her a moment to be with Lexa, but Clarke denied, insisting she needed to speak with him about honoring his promise to her people.

“If Heda’s spirit chooses me I will honor the promise. Lexa made us all vow it. We loved her.” The boy looked distraught as Clarke nodded, feeling relief in the fact her people would be supported.

Roan came into the ritual, Ontari, the nightblood Clarke had met earlier when Nia dripped her black blood across Clarke’s face, followed behind Roan and the second she saw Clarke she attacked. She took Clarke to the floor, holding a knife in the air only to be stopped by Titus after she pushed Aden away from his attempt. Roan ordered her to put the knife down, but she snapped at him. “She’s the reason your mother is dead.”

“You will obey your king.”

Ontari tightened the grip on her knife before pulling it away. Looking Clarke dead in the eyes. “No matter. When I am Heda and the king bows to me, you and every last Skaikru will die.”

You sat on the bench next to Kane, watching from across the room as Lincoln spoke to a woman bandaging up another before he stood up, walking across the room. You took a deep breath, crossing your arms as Lincoln stood in front of you.

“She going to be okay?” you nodded over to the woman as Lincoln looked over, sighing softly.

“She will be. So will you.”

You let out a defeated chuckle, knowing Lincoln was wrong. “You inspire them. That’s the Lincoln I knew.” He put his hand on your shoulder, making you look him in the eyes as he offered a sad smile.

“I’m not gonna let you give up, either.” You wanted to tell him to give up, to accept that this was your fate just as you had, but you couldn’t say anything as the door to the room opened.

Pike, Bryan, a few guards as well as Bellamy entered. Bellamy immediately caught your eyes through the cage as you got to your feet, looking towards Pike. “I thought I had more time.” You muttered.

“I’m not here for you.” He looked over your shoulders and around the room at the several grounders and Kane and Sinclair. “Each of you are guilty of the same crimes as Y/N. You will all share the same fate. Death.” You swallow back the awful dose of reality Pike just shot at you as you felt Bellamy’s eyes boring into the side of your face.

The grounder woman from earlier asked Lincoln what Pike was saying, not understanding English to which Lincoln told her not to worry. “My people are innocent. They know nothing. Don’t let them suffer for my crimes. Please.” You looked over your shoulder at Lincoln, watching his jaw rigid as he pleaded to Pike.

“Sir, Lincoln’s right.” You were shocked when Bellamy spoke up. “All the others did was run through an open door, same thing we would do if we were in the same position.” Pike paused as he looked at all of you before nodding.

“I agree that true. Kane, Lincoln, Sinclair, and Y/N as leaders of this coup, you will pay for your crimes with your lives.” You gasped, stepping forward to protest but the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you stopped you. Pike looked you up and down. “Execution is set for dawn.” He led the guards out of the room as they followed, everyone except Bellamy.

“Y/N-“

“Don’t. You chose your side. This, all this, is not your fault, but I wouldn’t be here if you’d chosen the right side.” You whispered barely loud enough for him to hear before you turned around, walking away and wiping tears trying to fall out of your eyes. You went years without crying, but on Earth Bellamy Blake managed to turn you into a damn waterfall. He doesn’t know the affect he has on you.

Bellamy watch you join a slumped Kane on the bench. Kane wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you let your eyes close and you could feel the soft trail of a tear making its way down your cheek. His eyes hardened and he practically dashed out of the room in search of Monty.

Monty and Bellamy stood outside Miller’s room, Bellamy having just pounded on the door. Miller and Harper exchanged glances before Miller opened it. “What are you doing here?” He asked as they let themselves in. Bellamy brought a finger to his lips, shushing them. He reached into his pocket pulling out a knife. Miller and Harper went into high alert, hands reaching for their guns before Bellamy calmed them down. He reached for Miller’s jacket, cutting open a part of it to reveal the bug Bryan had placed a few days ago. Miller looked to Harper, both equally as shocked as Monty dropped the microphone into a bag.

“The bag blocks the signal.” Monty told them.

“Who put it there?” Miller asked although deep down he already knew.

“That’s not important. Pike just sentenced Y/N to death. Lincoln, Sinclair, and Kane too.” Bellamy looked distressed; all he could think about was prospect of losing you. Harper just scoffed.

“Are you trying to scare us?” she asked.

“We’re here to help. You’re going to get them out right? What can we do?”

Harper and Miller exchanged looks, not believing a word they were saying. “What are you talking about?” Harper feigned confusion.

“Look, we can help from the inside, but we need people to hand them off to on the outside.” Miller and Harper continued their act, making Monty and Bellamy mad as Bellamy groaned. “You know what, forget it. If my sister wants to save Lincoln’s life, you tell her to meet me at the dropship in an hour. But I’m not letting anything happen to Y/N.” Bellamy stormed out of the room, shaking his head and running a hand over his face, wiping away any look of his troubles. Monty called after him before turning to Harper.

“After everything we’ve been through, you don’t trust me?”

Harper bit the inside of her cheek, shaking the hair out of her to look at him. “Does your mother know you’re here Monty?”

Bellamy stood outside the dropship, hoping on everything his sister would show up. He heard the clopping of a horse as he spun around, relaxing at the sight of his sister. “Octavia.”

She went in for a hug, almost wrapping her arm around him before she plunged a syringe into his neck. Bellamy fell onto her, slowly falling to the ground. “Sleep well, big brother.” She said softly as she caught him.

Bellamy came to in a cave, Octavia and Indra were standing over him as his hands were locked in front of him. “It was a mistake to bring him here.” Indra told the younger girl.

Octavia sighed, looking down at Bellamy sat on the floor. “He was out the whole way. I searched him for bugs.”

“You think I’d let them hurt you?” Bellamy questioned, hoping Octavia would realize everything Bellamy would do was for her.

“You let them capture Y/N, didn’t you?” Bellamy was taken back, his mouth falling open as he looked at her.

“You waste time.” Indra interrupted them, looking towards Octavia. “You should be in their camp by now.” Octavia nodded, reaching to grab her things.

“Pike will be expecting you. You won’t be able to get close, but I can. We work together and we can save them!” Bellamy tried to explain but Octavia refused to look at him. “They’re going to execute her, Octavia. They’re going to kill her!”

Octavia finally looked at him, taking a step forward to stand over him. “You’re the reason she needs saving Bellamy. If she does die, her death will be on you.”

“O…” he whispered. He tried to ignore the part in him that agreed with her, knowing that if you did die, if he couldn’t save you, it’s his fault. “You need me.” His voice was small as Octavia shook her head.

“For the first time in my life, that’s not true.” She turned around, heading right out the cave entrance as Bellamy called out her name. He was worried, of course he was, if this doesn’t work, he hated the fact he couldn’t even say goodbye.

He messed up.

He should’ve chosen your side.

He messed everything up.

You leaned against the wall as you watched Lincoln talk to a man laid on the ground. He stood up, looking down at you as you chuckled. “Did you ever think that day you found me in the woods, that we’d be here?” Lincoln quirked a brow at you as you shook off the question with a smile, but Lincoln just joined you against the wall. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get Pike out of the camp.”

“That wasn’t on you. Your people, they think they’re doing the right thing.” He said as you scoffed.

“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me that. I couldn’t even get through to Bellamy.” You didn’t miss the way Lincoln sent you a smirk out the corner of your eye as you felt your cheeks heat up. “I swear Lincoln, if you say anything right now.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Uh huh, sure you weren’t.” you joked before seeing the smirk on his face fall slightly. You knew just by the look on his face what he was thinking about. “You’re thinking about Octavia, aren’t you?”

Lincoln nodded solemnly as you looked up into the ceiling, staring at the crack in the wall and thinking about your best friend. You didn’t know if you were going to see her again, and that hurt. You watched across the cell as Kane who was previously let out to talk to Abby came back, much more depressed than he was before.

You left your spot next to Lincoln when the man caught his attention again. You headed over to sit on Kane’s side. His arms rested on his knee and you could see the brand of the coalition peaking out from his rolled-up sleeves. You took his arm, turning it over to run your fingers across it. Kane watched you, paying more attention to your soft facial expression than the mark. “Could’ve worked.” You told him, letting the pad of your thumb run right down the center.

“Death can be an act of unity. We don’t break. No fear. The people will remember.” He told you. You sighed, looking to give him a sad smile.

“So, you and Abby Griffin.” You spoke referring to the disappearance he made with the woman earlier.

“So, you and Bellamy Blake.” He backed as you let out a small scoff, hiding the frown you would’ve worn behind a forced smile.

“You’re going to die and she visited you. I don’t even know where Bellamy’s at.” You stared at the floor in front of you, gently picking up the toes of your feet only to press them back down and distract you. Kane eyed you, knowing you were giving up hope when your shoulders slacked, resting your head against the wall and your fingers still tracing his mark.

“Bellamy’s going to figure it out eventually. He’ll come back for you.” He argued.

You just remained still, not moving at all. “How can you be sure?”

“You love him.” You inhaled quickly as you looked anywhere but him. Kane, being ever so knowledgeable about your predicament, put a hand on your knee, pulling your attention back to him. “And I’m willing to bet he feels the same about you.”

You let a small scoff leave your lips. “And look where that got us. We’re about to be executed.” You heard Kane sigh next to you, yet he followed your words with none of his own. This wasn’t how you thought you were going to die, given you imagined it many ways, yet an execution never made the list. “Kane… I’m sorry.

His brows pulled together. “What are you sorry for?”

“For what I am. For what I became. My parents would be disappointed in me.” You let go of his arm but Kane didn’t move it as his sight remained locked on your face, downcast as you took a deep breath. “They always taught me to be strong. To not let others decide my fate, that I needed to make my own.”

“You are one of the strongest people I know Y/N.” He grabbed your hand, giving it squeeze.

“Then why wasn’t I enough for them?!” Your voice cracked as you looked at him with broken eyes. It was as if in the final moments before the guards come in you needed to be free from your feelings, you needed to know. “Why did you leave me?”

“Y/N, your parents. There’s something you don’t know.” He whispered as he wiped a tear off your face as you gasped quietly.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Chancellor on deck!” Someone shouted as you both jumped to your feet, feeling Kane grab your arms and stare out at the guards. Lincoln spoke to the grounders as you scanned the room, feeling your heart plummet when you don’t see the brown eyes you so wanted.

“I told you, Bellamy’s not here.” You mumbled right before Pike shouted for everyone to back against the walls. You listened, following directions as you peaked over to Lincoln. His eyes pierced through the room, sending daggers straight at Pike who was walking over to you. You glared at Pike as he handcuffed your wrists, tightening them more than necessary as you hissed.

The four of you were led through the hallways in a line. This is it. You thought. I’m about to die. You followed behind Kane, seeing him look over his shoulder at you but you didn’t meet his eyes. You knew this would be easier if you didn’t.

“Make way!” Pike yelled one the halls as you watched your feet shuffle against the ground, barely picking them up.

“Yes sir, Mr. Chancellor.” Someone says as you immediately shoot your head up, seeing Harper stand off to the side. Her lips curl up slightly when she sees you and for the first time in 24 hours you think you might have a chance to live.

“Package is on the move. I repeat package is on the move.” She spoke into a microphone after you’ve passed to not get caught.

But it was all for naught as Monty and Hannah were listening in on her call. “She’s talking about the prisoners.” Hannah pointed out as Monty leaned forward on his knees, bouncing his leg getting his whole body to shake. “Whose voice is that?” Monty didn’t want to lie to his mother, but he knew he had to. He shook her head, motioning he had no idea. Harper came on the call again before another’s.

“We’re in position. Ready to intercept.”

“Octavia kom Skaikru.” Hannah said when she realized the second voice belong to the girl. You heard Hannah’s voice come over the radio on Pike, telling him Octavia was here. You held back a gasp, knowing how much more trouble you could be in if Pike knew you were a part of this whole thing, you’d be in even more trouble than you could imagine.

Pike ordered you all to your knees and you obliged, feeling the nerves get to you. Pike scowled at you as he talked to Hannah over the radio. “Can you confirm a location?”

“Negative, sir.”

Bryan stepped up to Pike. “Sir, we can assume her friends already told her where were talking them. We shouldn’t move until we know the route’s secure.” Bryan told him as Pike nodded, finding an empty room just in front of him. He assured you all into the room, telling two men to stand by the door.

“Anyone comes out of there, shoot to kill. Anyone enters this corridor, one warning then shoot to kill. Everyone else, on me.” The guards nodded as they took positions, two of them staying with the four of you. The moment you were seated on the ground you looked to Kane; his mouth was upturned into a little smirk. You raised a brow at him before he mouthed ‘I told you so’. Your smirk then matched his.

Bellamy was still handcuffed in the cave, leaning against the wall as he clenched his fists. “Indra please. Pike tripled his security; he’ll see her coming.”

“Good. We’re counting on that.”

Bellamy just groaned. “He still trusts me. If anything goes wrong, we can use that.” He tried to tell her as Indra stood up to tower over him.

“I’ve seen where that trust came from. The battlefield where you massacred my brothers and sisters.” She snapped at him.

“Should I have let him kill you?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Same reason you haven’t used that sword on me.”

She tilted her chin in the air, staring down at the boy. “Octavia.” Bellamy nodded, pleading one last time for release over the fact Octavia could die at Arkadia. “Then Octavia kom Skaikru will die the warrior’s death you denied me.”

Pike took his guards towards the hanger bay, they kept their guns in their hands, ready to shoot anyone threatening their safety. “Same drill!” He ordered as the guards separated. “Watch for blind spots.”

“Sir, the hangar’s secure.”

Pike wasted no time in pulling out his radio. “Unit 4 come in. Unit 4 what’s your status?” He asked again after a few minutes of silence. “Are the prisoners secured?” Still nothing came through as they left the hangar, running down the halls to get back to you all. They reached your door, seeing the two guards laying on the ground unconscious. Pike stepped past the guards on the floor, letting everyone care for them as he stepped into the room you were supposed to be in.

“Damn it!” He yelled out as the room was empty, not a trace of you all to be seen. “We did exactly what they wanted us to do.” He mumbled as he turned around to the others. “It won’t happen again.”

The left the room, a few seconds later the floorboards moving out from their spots as the five of you clamber out. You wore a relieved smile on your face as Kane helped you to your feet. ��Bit right down there.” He said soon as you were all out and Octavia was unlocking his handcuffs.

Octavia just glared at him and scoffed. “Try doing it for 16 years.” She snapped. Kane was taken back as the tension in the air thickened. She turned to you, her glare still locked on Kane as she undid your own bounds.

“Hey.” You tapped Octavia on the shoulder, getting her to look at you. When she did, you wrapped your arms around her, bringing her in for a tight hug she returned. “Thank you for saving us.” You mumbled into her ear.

“Couldn’t let you suffer for my brother’s mistakes.” She replied before pulling away, seeing her boyfriend standing behind you. You watched them embrace, thankful they’d get many more. Abby came in the door as you went on alert, ready in case a guard decided to stop by.

“Abby… I told you not to do this.” Kane spoke in a hushed voice to her, asserting his authority as you watched carefully.

“Why would I start listening to you now?” You chuckled at the woman’s defiance. She was just like Clarke.

Harper’s voice was the one to break up the reunions this time as she informed you all of the numerous guards blocking your exit.”Stay put.”

“They’re trapped.” Hannah told Monty as they continued to eavesdrop on your radio calls. Monty didn’t look at her, wasting only a beat before grabbing their radio.

“Attention all guards. Calling all guards. The prisoners are headed for the main gate. The prisoners are headed for the main gate! Over!” He shouted as his mom stared on in shock at him.

“Monty, what are you doing?”

For the first time during their spy work, he turned to his mother and looked her in the eye. “I’m saving my friends.”

You looked around the room all equally confused. “Was that Monty?” You asked through the silence.

“Guess he’s with us after all.” Miller said with a shake of his head. You couldn’t help the way your heartbeat leaped. If Monty was helping then maybe Bellamy…

“Pike will figure it out.” Kane asked, bringing you back to your senses. Abby brought her hand up to comfort Kane’s arm.

“We don’t know that.” She assured him.

You shook your head, moving to look outside in the now empty hallway. “What we do know is we have to leave.” Everyone followed your lead out of the room, Octavia running ahead of you to show you the plan’s route.

Monty stayed in his seat after his little radio call. His mom on the other hand was pacing back and forth behind him. “Your friends are traitors!” She yelled.

“Then I guess I’m one too.” There was no doubt in Monty’s mind if he had to do it all over he would help you again, but next time he would be on the correct side from the beginning.

“How many men do we have on the gate?” Pike asked them as he barged into their roomHannah looked to her son, seeing him stand up for what he believed in as she sighed.

“Sir, we just got word. It was another false report.”

“Put this camp on lockdown.” He growled to the two guards behind him.

Octavia led you all to a hatch where Harper waited. The moment she saw you she smiled, pulling you in for a hug before dashing through the hatch. You stepped back, letting everyone go before you until Lincoln, Octavia, Kane, Abby and you were left. “Ok, Abby you’re next.” Kane said as he motioned for her to enter.

Abby just shook her, taking a step back. “I’m not going. They need someone to show them out of the darkness. Besides-“ her speech was cut short when Kane put his hand on the side of her face, pulling her flush against himself and kissing her. Your eyes went wide as you looked away, wanting to give Kane the privacy he deserved. You met Octavias eyes across the room and she smirked at you before going back to lookout. “May we meet again.” Kane told Abby when they finished kissing.

“We will.”

You listened for the sound of Abby making her way through the out the door by Lincoln before you finally turned around, seeing a slight dusting of blush on Kane’s face. “Go on.” He said to you, motioning to the hatch. You patted him on the back as you began to climb on through, only to be stopped by the sound of Pikes voice on Octavia’s radio.

“I have a message for the traitors in this camp. There will be an execution. Either turn yourselves in or the other grounder prisoners will die in your place.” You jumped out of the hatch, trying to figure out what to do.

Someone was going to die today.

“Let’s go.” Octavia said, giving Lincoln and you a slight push. You nodded wearily as you grabbed on the wall but Lincoln didn’t listen to Octavia. He was going to save his people. “Lincoln please!

“I can’t let them die because of me. Go.”

Octavia continued to plead and you joined in, not wanting to lose your friend. “I know what you’re feeling, but they’re searching the station. We have to go.”

“Go.” Lincoln repeated himself but you still shook your head.

“They‘ll kill you Lincoln.” It felt like you were screaming but to Kane and Lincoln your voice was small, trying not to waver as you bid your friend goodbye. Lincoln just smiled down at you, pulling you in for a hug as you shut your eyes tight, trying to wrap your arms around him.

“Take care of her.” He asked you, looking at a teary-eyed defiant Octavia as you nodded softly, sucking in a deep breath to keep yourself from joining her. “May we meet again Y/N.” He pulled away earlier than you wanted him to as you dropped your head, feeling tears prickle the side of your eyes as Kane put his hand on your shoulder.

You threw yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he rubbed your back. You turned right back into that little girl who watched her parents float themselves, running to Kane for comfort.

“I’m going with you.” Octavia told him. “Oso throu daun ogeda.”

We fight together.

Lincoln smiled down at Octavia, bringing a hand up to caress her face. “I love you.” He whispered to her but you heard it, the feeling striking you on the gut hard. He pulled her into a kiss and while she was distracted, took the opportunity to sneak a hand into her satchel and pull out syringe, injecting it into her neck.

“No…” she mumbled as she fell unconscious. Lincoln lifted her into the air as you stepped back from Kane, letting him carry her.

“What are you doing?” Kane asked.

Lincoln looked down at his girlfriend sorrowfully. “Same thing you'd do for your people. Just get her out of here.” Kane nodded, taking the girl through the hatch as you let him, risking one last glance to Lincoln.

“Ste yuj, Lincoln.” You told him as you lent up to kiss his cheek, giving him one last smile.

Stay strong.

“You too.” He told you before watching you disappear into the hatch. He fixed the door, removing any evidence you were there before heading out of the room, right into the hands of Pike and the guards.

Somehow in Polis, everything was getting even worse. Ontari cheated the conclave, killing all the Natblidas in their sleep. Everyone was confused when the fight supposedly ended, and when they found out what happened, Clarke was scared. Ontari would in no way protect your people. Roan, in honor of Lexa sparing his life, tried to get Clarke and Murphy out of Polis, but Clarke refused to leave without the flame, the one physical connection to Lexa she has left. The flame was pulled out of Lexa after her death, it contained all the past commanders and shall be placed inside the next Heda. Which should’ve been Ontari, but Clarke remembered something Lexa had told her.

Another Natblida was left from Lexa’s conclave, a girl who ran. Titus told Clarke her name was Luna and Clarke knew Lincoln talked of a Luna once and figured it was the same girl. She took the flame from Titus with the promise of bringing Luna back as a commander. Clarke left Polis, leaving Murphy in the hands of Ontari. Titus, the only person able to perform the ascension confronted Ontari with Roan during the purification process. He told them he provided the flame for Clarke to take but wouldn’t tell them where. Ontari, angered at Titus’ defiance ordered Titus’ death, but Murphy reminded her she needed him. Titus, at the knowledge Ontari wouldn’t let him die, took the knife Roan had held and slit his own throat, killing himself. Ontari was outraged, she was going to be the new commander and Titus stopped her plans. No one outside of the room and Clarke knew Ontari wasn’t the commander, so she came up with a plan.

She was going to fake it.

Bellamy was going crazy in the cave. He didn’t think it would take this long unless something happened. No matter what he couldn’t get the feeling something happened out of his head. He sat up at the sound of horns seeming to come from Polis.

“Heda.” Indra whispered as Bellamy looked at her confused.

“What is it?”

“A new commander has risen.” Bellamy was on his feet as he watched Indra grab her things, getting ready to leave.

“And you go running?” She ignores him as she continued moving. “Well maybe, this time, Octavia will get it, your loyalty will always be with your people.”

“Octavia is my people.” She snapped at him over her shoulder.

“Then take these chains off me and we can help them together.” He hoped he was getting through to her and for a second he was, but Indra sighed, looking out into the forest with a shake of his head.

“Tell them I’m sorry.” She said before running out of the cave, leaving Bellamy alone.

You didn’t say a thing as you left the camp, not sparing a glance at anything besides the ground beneath your feet. “Lincoln.” You beard mumbled next to you from Octavia laid on a horse. You made no move to let her know you heard her and half of you suspected it was just in your head. She started to roll off before you looked up at her, helping her weak body off the horse. Octavia was stumbling as she looked for a clearing, finding one just in front of you that overlooked Arkadia. You joined her after a minute of needing to know what was happening. But the air was sucked out of your body at the sight of Lincoln kneeling on the ground in a mud puddle with Pike standing in font of him with a gun in hand. You knew it was coming but knowing it didn’t hurt any less. You felt Kane’s hand on your back, seeing him clutch Octavia out of the corner of your eyes but you paid him no mind, your eyes never leaving the scene playing out in front of you all.

Pike promised Lincoln his people would be cared for. Not free, but cared for. “Lincoln of Trikru, you have been sentenced to death by the rights of the Exodus charter. Any last words?” He asked your friend mere seconds away from being executed. Lincoln just stuck his head up in the air.

“Not for you.” Pike slowly brought the gun up, pointing it at Lincoln’s head. Lincoln slowly turned to look up, catching sight of Octavia above him. “Meibi oso na hit choda op nodotaim.”

May we meet again.

You could hear Octavia whimper next to you but still you stayed silent and stoic, your head screaming but the only moment occurring on your outside be the twitch of a finger. You counted the seconds in your head until this was all over, pleading that somehow Lincoln won’t be shot. Maybe Pike would come to his senses, or one of the guards, or even Bellamy coming to your rescue and stopping Lincoln’s execution.

1… 2…

Gunshots.

A/N: Long chapter, oh my. Also when this episode aired I was absolutely devastated because I LOVED Lincoln, Ricky Whittle was so amazing in his role. I think I cried for a while tbh... well, tell me what you think!

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!!!

*Reblogging with Banished*

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys

Bellamy: @jodiereedus22 @nyxxxwtp @danielabetancourth

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kiintsugi · 4 years ago

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Vagrant's Rhapsody Excerpt #002

“You can't change the wind but you can set your sails.” ― Billie Joe Armstrong

“Sometimes the world decides it doesn’t need you. Sometimes you decide you don’t need the world. But, you... fuck, I need you.”

Drink because you’ve got nothing better to do than wallow in self-pity on a Saturday night. Drink because you’re letting the straights play jump rope with your nerves. Fling your glass across the bar so you have to watch the whiskey run down your distorted, cracked reflection.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Train hopper modern au. aka the road trip quarter-life crisis au no one asked for but i’m writing anyway

Spotify insp. playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3nIWt2B8z1kNTovOlKI9jR?si=lqCCZXmPTsKZXPkJW0kOKg

EXCERPT:

There were three things that Clarke loved about Bellamy Blake

His love of world history which allowed for enough overlap with her love art that he was actually someone she could talk to about post renaissance painters and have a fulfilling conversation with.

He was literally the kindest human on the face of the earth.

His arms. They were great.

She remembered the third thing as he offered her his elbow to walk her into the little diner. Which, conclusion: Bellamy was without a doubt, the kindest human of all time.

They found a table toward the back, near the jukebox that only ever played one song. It had been that way for as long as Clarke could remember and would likely stay that way until it stopped working all together. Not that it mattered. It didn’t bother the regulars – mostly grumpy older men and industrial, blue collar workers – and it didn’t bother the employees either. The only people who ever complained was the rare newcomer who always thought it necessary to blame the waitress for their own piss poor taste in music.

Mary Jane’s Last Dance played when Clarke was young and her father would take her out to watch the sunrise in the Beacon parking lot at four something in the morning. It played when Clarke was sixteen and bussing tables and sneaking links of sausage because she had already been given two formal warnings about sneaking bacon and when she was sliding ice down Octavia’s shirt on late weekend nights to keep her awake for their three graveyard regulars. It didn’t matter what she was doing or who she was or who ahead wanted to be one day; Tom Petty was always there. For Hungover Clarke, however, she could really do without the residual emotions of her past right about now.

“Is it even possible to hate Tom Petty?” Bellamy mused with a nostalgic twinkle as he slid into a booth. She knew he meant well, he always meant well. But Clarke still had to bite her tongue and actively stop herself from being a certifiable grump towards one of the only people she could stand to be around.

She waved a hand with dismissive intent and peered across the diner. It was a small joint, cracked and aged in this timeless charm sort of way with a dozen booths, six on either side of the door, and a row of diner bar top seats that always had some industrial worker with sunken eyes hunched over endless coffee and a plate of grease drenched potatoes.

There were two waitresses. The first was and older woman who had been with diner since Clarke was young named Bea. The other was younger, even more than Clarke and unlike Bea who had something a rapport with the regulars, was having hard time knowing when to approach customers and when to leave them the fuck alone.

“Charlotte. What the fuck? We got customers!” Murphy’s head peaked out from the window behind the counter, his expression wrinkled with frustration.

“I got it,” Bea interjected. “She’s one of my girls.”

Murphy turned towards them, eyes lighting up when he realized the customers in question were her and Bellamy. “You,” he declared, reaching an arm out of the window to point his spatula at them. “Bout time.”

Bellamy smiled. “We’re here, now.”

Ever chivalrous Bellamy Blake, acting as if it were his fault Clarke hadn’t bothered to stop by. Of course, Bea knew better than to believe it.

“Where the hell have you been?” she asked, pushing her weight onto one hip as she set down two mugs coffee.

Clarke reached for the obviously larger of the two mugs. “Europe.”

“That was six months ago,” Bea said.

“New York?”

“Try again, girlie.”

Clarke shrugged. She really didn’t have an answer; at least, she didn’t have one that she was willing to admit.

“Well, you’re here now.” Bea put her hands on her hips and sighed. “That’s what matters. Just in time for the wedding, too. Oh,” she breathed. “I never did expect to say that about Octavia.”

“Yeah,” Clarke said, looking out the window. “Me either.”

The Beacon was a tiny building that built its success through its service to blue collar railway workers and, while the railroad workforce was nothing compared to what used to be as a in their small midwestern town, the trainyard still lingered across the window pane like a distance relic and – somehow – added to the charm. Now days, hardly anyone who worked on the railway came into the diner, but Clarke always wondered what the place looked like when it first opened. Train tales had to be better the complaints of long sleep-deprived truck drivers and stoned teenagers who poured chocolate milk on their hash browns.

The bells over the door gave an off-key chime and Clarke could hear the trudging boots of new customers filing in through the door.

“Charlotte,” Murphy’s voice boomed. “You’re up!”

Bellamy chuckled across the table and Clarke whipped her attention back to the diner as he said, “I haven't heard Murphy this frustrated since Clarke and Octavia first left.”

Bea looked over her shoulder to the table of new arrivals where the young waitress seemed to be stumbling through her job. “It’s her first job,” she said. “She’ll get better. You and O weren’t much better when you started either. Besides, that lot’s an easy ticket. She’ll be fine.”

The table consisted of four people, each as begrimed as the last. They were covered in something black and greasy, with stringy unwashed hair and dirt ridden, sweat soaked clothes. One of them was wiping their hands clean, leaving a pile of dirty napkins in the center of the table before collecting them all and trading the used napkins to the waitress for coffee.

“They’re filthy,” Bellamy noted.

“They’re harmless,” Bea said. “So, your orders still the same? Southwest Omelet and a Beacon Traditional?”

They both nodded and Bea sauntered away to shout the orders at Murphy through the kitchen window.

“Can you believe Murphy still works here?” Bellamy asked, leaning over the table. “Eight years at the same diner.”

Clarke frowned. “Bea’s been here longer.”

“Yeah, but that’s Bea. This place is nothing without her.”

Clarke shrugged. As much as she loved Bellamy, it was hard to keep a conversation with him. It was hard to keep a conversation with anyone these days.

They fell into a sort of uncomfortable silence as Bellamy sipped at his coffee and hummed the repeating tune of the Jukebox’s only song while Clarke stared absentmindedly across the diner towards the table of four. She watched the young waitress, Charlotte, bring out four piled plates of diner classics, refill coffee mugs on at least four separate occasions and chat idly with the group about things Clarke couldn’t quite make out.

“Fuckin’ frozen hell, Princess. You gonna say hi to me, or what?”

Clarke snapped back to the table. There were two steaming plates of food in front of them, Bellamy’s half consumed and Clarke’s completely untouched and her coffee had gone cold. She looked at the plate, frowning before looking up to Murphy who had stolen a seat next to Bellamy. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she began to pick at her food. “Long night.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ bet,” Murphy said. He pushed back his hair and leaned one elbow on the table. “I heard you go real hard these days.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow as she shoved a fork full of food into her mouth.

“Hey, man, I hear what I hear,” he said with an innocent shrug. “Not like we’ve talked since you got back to set the story straight.”

“There’s nothing to set straight,” Clarke said.

Murphy gripped his chest with gasp. “A woman after my own heart. No fucks and an iron liver.”

“Murphy,” Bellamy interjected. “Enough.”

“I’ll take you on on that. If you can keep up.”

Murphy balked with laughter. “Come on, princess. You really think your debauchery can keep up with me? I’ve been running the garbage kid scene since you were still a star student.”

Clarke raised her coffee mug with a smug grin. “What can I say? I’m a fast learner.”

#fic update #vrau #clexa fanfiction #clexa fanfic #clexa #the 100 #t100 #clarke griffin #commander lexa #writing #art historian clarke #vagabond lexa

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kelseaaa · 4 years ago

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Alone with the Sunrise

Part Two: I’m Only Sleeping

Masterlist

Pairing: Lieutenant Oliver Cochrane x f!MC (Abigail Bellamy)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: angsty angst and feels

Series Summary: What really happens when Abigail goes back through the time portal after their fight against the Admiral? And how will Oliver and the pirate crew handle it? This is a follow up series to my first Oliver fic: Together with the Sundown.

~~~~~

Tagging: @jaxsmutsuo, @krishu213, @greedy-choices, @imrookieramsey, @choicesficwriterscreations please let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed :)

~~~~~

~Five Days Later~

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Oliver sighed. Charlie had asked him this same question countless times over the past several days. He grew weary of the question over time.

The journey back to Port Monarque and Tiburon had been hell. At first, he thought he was sleeping. That he was in some terrible nightmare and soon he would wake up and realize it wasn’t real. That she wasn’t gone. But he was awake. In fact, he had hardly slept since the moment Edward came to his door and uttered the worst words imaginable.

“She’s gone, Lieutenant.”

He was good at masking his emotions. Never one to overshare and remain stoic in the face of uncertainty. Only one person had ever really broken that facade. But she was gone.

“I’ll be fine,” Oliver replied, his gaze never wavering from the tiny island they were docked at. The island where they first met. Where he had realized that there was more to life than the Navy. Where love blossomed and burned.

Oliver knew the Quartermaster wasn’t convinced, but he was thankful when she didn’t push further. He was just so tired.

Charlie dipped her chin then left him be, making her way over to the rest of the crew who were gathering their things. It was time for his crew and the Poseidon’s Revenge’s crew to go their separate ways.

After leaving the disappearing island, The Intrepid set course back to Port Monarque to tie up loose ends. When they had arrived, the Admiral’s crew had just beat them back. However, with the crew's stories, along with Oliver’s, they were able to convince the Governor’s men about the truth involving the Admiral. They skipped a few details - such as the magical island and the time portal - which aided their story.

Oliver didn’t think anyone would believe them. People trusted his father, some even idolizing him - Oliver included at some point in his life - but now here they were, pulling into Tiburon. They were moving on. The plan now was to drop off the pirate crew so they may find other means of travel. They had already stocked up The Intrepid with supplies to last them on their next journey.

Before they left Port Monarque, several of the Admiral’s old crew had asked to join Oliver. He had agreed, ensuring that none of them would speak a word about the pirates he was harboring, which they all obliged much to Oliver’s relief.

Oliver was broken from his thoughts when someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned his head only to be greeted by the Poseidon’s Revenge’s captain.

“Lieutenant. A word?”

Oliver sighed then turned his body around to face the man. Oliver stood tall, his shoulders pushed back and chin tilted slightly in the air. Instead of answering verbally, Oliver nodded his head.

“I wish to thank you,” Edward began. “For your assistance with all this and for the use of your vessel.”

Oliver should have been more grateful but right now, he was broken. A shell of a man. “Think nothing of it,” was his only response before slowly turning back to gaze off the side of the ship again. He waited for the man behind him to leave. Waited to hear the sound of retreating footsteps so he could be left alone to think and brood. But it didn’t happen.

“I’m sorry… About Abigail.”

Oliver’s throat tightened at the sound of her name. He hadn’t heard it since that first day. The day he woke up into this nightmare. Oliver wanted to scream. He wanted to jump from the deck and sink to the bottom of the ocean. He wanted to disappear.

Edward continued. “She was a peculiar woman.”

Oliver almost smiled as he remembered their first night aboard his ship. He had said the same thing right to her face and she nearly died of hysterics. How he missed her laugh…

“I pray you find peace, Oliver.”

Oliver couldn’t take it anymore. He turned around to face the captain one more time. He eyed him cautiously, looking for any crack or fissure that would give any sign of deceit. When he found none, he merely held out his hand.

“Thank you, Captain,” the Lieutenant replied. Edward inspected the man's hand, then, without reluctance, grasped it.

No more words were exchanged. Edward took his leave, joining his crew on the top deck. From his place atop the quarterdeck, Oliver watched as the pirate crew made their way off the ship and down the gangplank. When the little pirate girl waved at him, he waved back. And when Adelia pulled Officer Alvarez into a passionate kiss, Oliver’s lips quirked slightly into a smile. Soon the Poseidon’s Revenge’s crew were all gone, disappearing into the crowd of the tiny port island.

The sun was still low, barely coming up from the ocean. Dawn approached them and Oliver knew they needed to set off if they were going to make it to their next stop in a timely manner. He made his way from the ship rail, stopping to talk to his navigator, then walked down the steps to the top deck.

“Everyone is accounted for, sir,” Officer Doyle informed his Lieutenant as the crewmen began to weigh anchor.

Oliver dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “I’ll be in my quarters, should you need me.”

Once inside his cabin, Oliver removed his hat, placing it on his desk. Making his way out onto his private balcony, he closed his eyes and gripped the rail. He momentarily reveled in the feel of the sun's first rays hitting his skin and for a moment there was peace.

Then it hit him. The truth. The reality.

He was truly alone.

And with that acknowledgement, he did the only thing he hadn’t done in the past few days.

He wept.

~~~~~

~Two Weeks Later~

The first few days at sea had been rough. A nasty storm threatened The Intrepid multiple times. Waves crashed against the hull and the rain, cold as ice, pelted the crew that worked mercilessly on the deck. The sails were torn and battered and there were times - countless times - Oliver thought they wouldn’t make it. But then the sun came out and they assessed that the damage wasn’t all that bad. The crew were able to repair the ripped sails and they continued on to their destination.

Oliver stood next to the helm, hands firmly tucked behind his back as he looked out over his crew. Beside him, Officer Alvarez gripped the wheel, steering them into an old, familiar port. An odd sensation of comfort mixed with dread washed over him. Being here again made him feel strong yet somehow vulnerable. But when the call to drop anchor rang out across the ship and the crew got ready to dock, those thoughts and emotions were swept away and out of his mind.

As if he could sense it, Office Alvarez looked over his shoulder to his commanding officer. A curious look on his face. “Alright, sir?” the officer asked.

Oliver glanced at him, doing his best to hide the annoyance on his face. He was so damn tired of that question and wished people would stop asking. “I’m fine. Now get us docked.”

And with that, Oliver took his leave of the helm and made his way down to greet the Harbormaster.

“Lieutenant Cochrane,” the Harbormaster greeted once the ship was docked. “We received word to expect you. Though it seems you were delayed.”

Oliver kept his face neutral as he spoke. “We were caught in a storm and blew off course by about a day.”

The Harbormaster nodded his head before sending his men to inspect and take inventory of The Intrepid. Oliver got to work signing the docking forms and soon all his personal items were being unloaded off the ship.

“How long can we expect you here?” the Harbormaster asked as Oliver watched over his things getting loaded into his carriage.

“I’m not sure,” Oliver replied earnestly. He truly wasn’t sure how long he would be here. He wasn’t sure if he could even return to the sea. Return to the heartache and emptiness that it now held.

“Very well,” the Harbormaster replied before departing back to the docks.

Oliver let out a sigh before turning back towards his carriage. He looked to his Coachman, an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair, a thick mustache and soft, blue eyes. “Greetings, Thomas,” Oliver addressed his Coachman with a faint smile.

Thomas smiled a small, congenial smile. “‘Ello, Lieutenant. Ready to head out?”

With a nod, Oliver stepped into the carriage. Before closing the door, he looked back out at the vessel where he resided for the past several years. The one place where, at one point in time, he found solace. But now all he found was pain. He closed the door of his carriage and soon they were off.

~~~~~

The journey inland took a full day, but soon Oliver’s stagecoach was pulling into the bustling city streets. He gazed out the window, taking in his surroundings. There were more buildings than when he was here last. The market streets were packed with people shopping during the early hours. There were children running around, playing games and ignoring the adult world around them.

They continued further, the busy markets turning into quiet, ornate buildings. White columns and sturdy, marble homes lined the road now. Soon, his carriage stopped in front of one of them. A minute later the carriage door swung open and Oliver stepped out onto the cobblestone. He stretched his sore limbs, reaching his arms behind his back to pull at his muscles.

Oliver’s eyes glanced up to the bronze nameplate that was hung just beside the door and let out a weary sigh. Years had passed since he had walked these halls. And now, without his father around, the large, empty building seemed more daunting than anything.

He turned around and watched Thomas remove the last bit of Oliver’s belongings out of the carriage, gently placing the trunk and garment bags on the ground. The old man looked up and gave Oliver a warm, hopeful smile before speaking. “How does it feel to be back, Lieutenant?”

Oliver’s gaze went back to the familiar building. “Strange,” he replied honestly.

There was a twinge in his chest. Either longing or regret, he wasn’t sure. Then he heard footsteps and soon Thomas was at his side. Oliver glanced over to the man who he’d known for most his life. This sense of familiarity was nice, welcomed even. The Coachman wore a wry smile before clasping his hand to Oliver’s shoulder.

“Welcome home, sir.”

~~~~~

~Seven Months Later~

Life back in London was tiresome.

When Oliver first arrived back, news quickly spread of his father’s disgraceful acts. Many people came up to him on the streets as he strolled around town. All asking him if the rumors were true, prying into his business. Soon, people would show up at his home, all hours of the day and night. There were job opportunities, business deals and - worst of all - marriage proposals. It all made Oliver sick and soon, he refused to leave home.

Eventually, and after weeks of harassment and getting his staff to personally man his front door, the people stopped coming. Things grew quiet and, once again, Oliver was alone.

He told himself he should move on. That he should stop wallowing in his own self pity and do something for himself. But try as he might, he just couldn’t shake her from his thoughts.

Then, one evening, Oliver awoke in the middle of the night to the thunderous sound of rain beating against his window. His room was bathed in light as lightning struck and soon followed by the bellowing sound of thunder.

Oliver let out a tired sigh while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was used to the rain. Used to the storms that he would sail through on the sea. But he knew there was no going back to sleep now. Something was gnawing at the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite brush off.

He sat at the edge of his bed and lit a candlestick. He pulled on his robe, covering up his nude body, and made his way downstairs. All of the staff had gone home for the night, leaving Oliver alone in the Cochrane manor. He walked into the parlor and sat his candle down before turning to the fireplace. Soon, the room was aglow with the fire light.

Oliver sat down in one of the velvet accent chairs and cradled his head in his hands. Something about tonight made him feel… strange. Something felt off and he wasn’t sure why. He was tired, he felt it in his bones, but he knew that right now he needed to be in that spot.

The lieutenant sighed and sat back in his seat. He closed his eyes, willing his body to relax and grow weary. He was just… so… tired.

Boom!

Another crash of lightning, but he didn’t flinch. Instead he welcomed the sound of the storm.

Boom! Boom!

Several more, and still, Oliver remained unfazed.

But then...

Knock! Knock!

That wasn’t the sound of the tormenting thunder outside. That was the sound of someone knocking on a door. Someone knocking on his front door.

Oliver bolted up from his seat. His heart rising dangerously high in his throat. It was late, way too late for any sane person to be at his door right now.

“Maybe a beggar.” He thought to himself.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Oliver tightened the ties around his robe, then slowly - ever so slowly - made his way towards his front door. He tried to peer out the window but the rain and the evening sky made it impossible to make out the shadowy figure standing on his stoop.

But then that strange feeling he had disappeared. And for a brief moment he felt something else. A feeling that he hadn’t felt for months.

Hope.

Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!

The person outside his door slammed their first several more times. But following the knocking came a voice.

“Oliver! Please, are you there?”

That voice…

His knees nearly gave out on him. With a sharp inhale, Oliver quickly unlocked his door before swinging it wide open. His heart stopped. His eyes blew wide. His mouth opened and closed, floundering like a fish out of water. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

This was a dream. Surely he was still in his bed, fast asleep and this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

But then the person on his doorstep finally spoke.

“I… I love you, too, Oliver.”

And Oliver realized that this was truly and utterly real.

~~~~~

#oliver cochrane #oliver x mc #lieutenant oliver #distant shores #alone with the sunrise #fic #my writing

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years ago

Text

SKIN DEEP—a fic

So Rainbow had a pretty funny exchange on Twitter yesterday about the Watford crew and teenage acne, and in particular if Baz would have acne. Which she said he most certainly would. So, being me, I had to go write a fic about it. Because I have no chill and even less self control. So here is a slightly crack-y fic, set at pre-canon era Watford, as hormones start to surge and Simon becomes pimple obsessed.

Screen shots of Rainbow’s tweets at the end of this post, to prove this lunacy had a real life prompt.

Simon and Baz fourth year, as the ravages of adolescence commence. Pimples, blemishes and spots. Questionable concoctions. The roots of Baz’s immaculate skin care regimen. Some things even a vampire can’t avoid.

Skin Deep

Year Four

Simon

I’m just about to splash water on my face when I notice them in the mirror. I mean, I’ve been expecting this to happen. I saw the older boys go all spotty at the homes. There’s no way I’d be lucky enough to be spared.

But fuck it all. I’ve got one on the side of my nose, two on my chin and one right between my eyebrows. How did I get all these pimples in one night?

I’m half tempted to think Baz spelled me. But that’s not his style, he doesn’t sneak about doing something like this, even though he’s a prick and a plotter. No, he did things like this when we were first years, but now when Baz spells me he wants everyone to know what he’s done.

Makes a production of it, the wanker.

Like when he knocks my boater off. Spells my shoes untied during class, so I trip when I stand up. Or seals the lid on the butter dish at breakfast.

If Baz was going to spell me spotty he’d do it in on a Monday, right before class, when everyone would notice. Not in our room, on a Saturday morning, when we’ve got nothing to do and nowhere to go.

He’s still asleep so if he did do it, it must have been in the night and really what would be the bloody point of that?

I have to reluctantly admit it’s probably not him this time. It’s me. I was just hoping this particular stage of puberty would just pass me by.

The other milestones have been coming one right after another though, so I guess I’m not that lucky.

I’ve got hair in more places now.

And I grew three inches this summer (Baz grew four, the tosser, so he’s still taller than me).

He’s taller but it’s like he fits in his body. Glides when he walks. Smooth as silk on the pitch. Bloody infuriating, is what it is.

I feel like a marionette on a string, my arms and legs all out of sync, knocking into furniture and tripping over my own feet, even when my shoes are tied.

And my voice has been doing that stupid thing where it gets all deep mid-sentence, and then it goes up so high I sound like Madame Bellamy. It’s bloody awful. Baz always gives me shit about it --“going to break into song for us, Snow?”

He’s such a prick.

I lean in closer to the mirror. The ones on my chin are small. It’s the nose one that’s a disaster.

No help for it. I’ll ask Penny if there’s a spell at breakfast. Though I doubt there is, seeing as Agatha’s been spotty for weeks and I know she’d use a spell, if there was one. Penny says Agatha spells her hair to be that straight and shine like it does. I wasn’t sure I believed her but some days it’s got a bit of an uneven wave to it so I wonder if Penny may be right.

*******

“No, Simon, there isn’t a spell.” Penny is using her patient voice with me, which means she thinks my question is unbearably stupid. She leans across the table to peer at me over her glasses. “You’ve hardly got any.”

“I might only have four now. But just you wait. They’re bound to get worse. With my luck I’ll be covered in them.”

“You don’t know that. And even if they do get worse it’s human nature! The universal teen experience!”

I groan.

“It won’t be that bad, Simon. Besides everyone’s spotty.”

“Baz isn’t spotty.”

She rolls her eyes. “Not Baz again, please.”

“Have you seen him, Penny?”

“I see him every day, Simon.”

“Yes, but have you really looked?”

“Obviously not as intently as you.”

“I live with him!”

I get another eye roll.

“He’s not got one spot! I tell you, it’s proof he’s a vampire. You can’t go through normal adolescence and be as pristine as all that.”

“Everyone goes through puberty at different times. He’s probably not at that stage yet.”

“He’s taller than me!”

“He’s always been taller than you.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“It’s not like he has any control over that, Simon. It’s genetics.”

I know that. I know height isn’t something that you can magick. But it just doesn’t seem fair that each time I grow enough to catch up to him, he grows too.

He did it last summer. Did it again this summer. Even grew over the Christmas holiday this year, the jammy bastard.

And now I’m sprouting pimples right and left and he’s across the dining hall with his flawless, pearly grey skin. Not a spot to be seen.

Typical.

****

I can tell I’ve got more when I wake up. Bloody hell. The old ones dry up and get crusty and new ones take their place.

My face feels heavier this morning. I grimace and I know there’s one on the side of my nose again. It pinches when my cheeks move so it must be massive. And the one on my chin itches— it’s probably grown overnight, red and welted around that nasty white center. I can’t even imagine what my forehead looks like.

I’ve tried everything.

Washing my face twice a day.

Alcohol to try to dry them out (didn’t do a thing, except make my skin all flaky so I looked like I had dandruff and the pox).

I borrowed some ointment off of Gareth. (He’s worse off than me, the poor sod, just a face full of them.) (Which should have tipped me off that whatever he was using wasn’t working.) (Got an earful from Penny about that.)

I had some sort of allergic reaction when I used his, so my face was itching, red even in the areas between the spots, and felt like it was on fucking fire.

Practically scrubbed my face off trying to wash it away.

Of course, Baz walked in right as I came out of the en suite. Did a double take at the sight of me, the wanker, then raised that eyebrow of his and curled his lip up in a sneer. Leaned forward and studied me for a moment. My face got even hotter. I don’t like it when he stares at me like that, all intense and focused. Like he’s plotting the best way to end me without triggering the Anathema. Makes my stomach twist, it does.

Made me wish my wand wasn’t half way across the room.

But I know Baz won’t risk the Anathema. He’s never done anything remotely threatening in our room. (It’s another story out of our room.)

He’d crossed his arms over his chest after he was done inspecting me and smirked, the tosser. “You know, Snow, between the excessive quantity of moles, infinite number of freckles, and extraordinary collection of pimples you have on your face, I don’t think I can actually see anything resembling skin anymore.”

He’s going to make me trigger the Anathema one of these days.

I ended up having to see the nurse for it, when I couldn’t stop scratching at my face. She rolls her eyes almost as much as Penny. It’s not like I can help being there so often. I’ve got missions. Important work for the Mage. It’s what I do.

She’d shaken her head at me and cast some spell that made the itching go away but didn’t do a thing for the bloody spots. Looked bored and put upon even doing that, she did.

This teen experience is a bloody nuisance.

I’m more and more convinced Baz is a vampire. The entire class looks poxed except for him. Like we’re in the middle of a plague while he’s all alabaster skin, unblemished and smooth, immaculate and bloody flawless.

Perfect, just like he always is.

Wanker.

Baz

Snow is an absolute spotted mess. It was entertaining at first, to watch him peer at himself in the mirror, hear the muttered curses as he would catch sight of each new blemish.

But I’m actually finding myself almost feeling sorry for him now.

Almost.

He’s standing at his mirror, turning his face this way and that, grumbling to himself as he inspects his reflection.

It’s something he does on a daily basis since his skin condition deteriorated so precipitously. I should probably stop needling him about it.

But I won’t because he actually seems quite bothered by it. Can’t let him think I’m going soft.

I wasn’t joking the other night, when I mocked him. I don’t think he has a span of skin left that doesn’t have some manner of spot or blotch or freckle on it. At least he’s stopped with the alcohol washes. He was shedding more than a snake when he was doing that, leaving errant flakes of skin all over the bathroom sink.

Disgusting.

Whatever he’s doing certainly isn’t making anything better. Making it a far sight worse by my estimation.

He’s literally a textbook illustration of acne vulgaris. The full range: from red and bumpy spots, to glaring pustules, to crusted over, scabby craters.

More like a walking dermatologic visual in actuality. You could slap a label on him: progressive stages of teenage acne and the entire range of pigmented facial anomalies.

Although they weren’t really anomalies before the acne got to Snow. His moles and freckles just seem to fit with his tawny skin—vast arrays of constellations scattered across his face, mapping out patterns against the smoothness of his complexion.

I don’t know what I’m thinking. What absolute nonsense. Snow’s freckles are a travesty.

And he’s anything but smooth complexioned. He’s more of a lunar landscape than Shakespeare’s damask’d roses.

I can’t be arsed to mess with him now though. I’m too comfortable under my blankets.

It’s far too early for anyone to be up, but Snow’s probably readying himself to head off on one of the Mage’s blasted missions again. Despite the fact that it’s a Sunday morning and by all accounts he should be doing what the rest of us are—having a lazy lie-in.

I watch him from under half-lidded eyes, the blankets pulled up to cover the bottom half of my face. He growls one last time, savages his curls in an attempt to tame them, and then charges out the door. It slams shut behind him, further proof that Snow has no regard for the niceties of sharing a room.

Thanks to all his thumping about, I’m now wide awake. I try to go back to sleep, try to will myself into a drowsy oblivion, but that ship has sailed. No Sunday lie-in for me and I lay the blame directly on Snow.

I stay under the covers for a bit longer, dreading the chilly walk to the en suite, but eventually my need to piss outweighs the comfort of the bed.

It’s not until I’m washing my hands and happen to glance up at the mirror that I notice.

There’s a pimple on my nose. Not just on my nose—at the very tip of it. Right in the fucking center of my face. If it were anywhere else—my forehead or my cheeks, for example—I’d have some chance of hiding it. But this. I can’t hide this.

And I can’t hide the one on my chin either. Bloody hell.

I shouldn’t even have pimples. I should by all rights be immune to this. I don’t get sick, I’m not prey to infections—how the bloody hell have I ended up with acne, for Crowley’s sake? It should be one of the perks of being undead—imperviousness to the ravages of teenage skin eruptions.

For half a minute I wonder if Snow has spelled me, in retribution for my insensitive commentary on his facial imperfections. But there is no possible way Snow could have managed a spell this precise, this nuanced. I’d be covered in boils, like Job himself, if Snow had attempted to pox me.

That’s not to say that this is acceptable. It most assuredly is not. And there’s no bloody spell for it. Dev’s been spotty since last year and he and Niall have yet to find anything that does more than slightly diminish the redness.

It’s fine. This is fine.

It’s not fine.

I need to call home and talk to Daphne. Surely she’ll have some advice for me.

Simon

The sunlight filtering through the window wakes me up. I’m still knackered from yesterday. Didn’t get back until well after midnight and I’ve got class in just a bit. I stretch and groan as my shoulder pops. I wrenched it trying to free my sword from that basilisk’s skull last night. I roll my neck and pull myself to a seated position.

Baz is already up. The door to the en suite’s closed but I don’t hear the water running.

My stomach growls. I’ll have time for seconds if I get to breakfast early enough. I’m just about ready to head down there when Baz comes out of the bathroom, steam drifting behind him and bringing the scent of his shampoo with it. It’s some posh brand, in sleek, artistically shaped bottles.

Penny says it smells like cedar and bergamot. I’m not sure what cedar and bergamot smell like. All I know is that the scent is unfairly pleasant.

Unlike Baz, who isn’t pleasant at all.

He looks murderous at the moment, eyebrows lowered, eyes narrowed. He’s an arse in general but more so in the mornings. He’d sleep late if he had the chance—he’s rarely out of bed before nine on weekends, the tosser, not unless he’s got exams to study for or an away match.

I’m trying to stay out of his way as I leave but I make for the door right as he crosses the room to his wardrobe and we do this awkward half step to avoid each other.

And that’s when I see it.

He’s got a pimple on his nose. Right at the tip of it, where it comes to a bit of a point. It’s nothing compared to any of mine. I’d hardly notice it on anyone else but this is Baz.

It’s stark against his pale skin, raised and just slightly reddened.

Fuck. He’s got one on his chin as well. Two, actually.

Baz has spots.

Trivial and hardly noticeable ones, but still.

I open my mouth to say something then think better of it and hightail it down to breakfast.

I still can’t quite believe it.

Baz has spots.

Penny is disappointingly unimpressed by this unexpected and highly irregular development.

“Simon, we all have spots. This is not some earth-shattering revelation. It’s puberty. A normal part of human development. We’ve been over this.”

“No, but this is Baz. Baz, Penny. He’s not human.”

Penny rolls her eyes again. She rolls her eyes rather a lot, I’m thinking. “He is if he has spots, Simon. I’d say this disproves your vampire hypothesis for good.”

“Maybe vampires aren’t immune to acne.”

“Simon.”

“Maybe it’s some plot. He probably magicked them up himself, the scheming prick.”

“You’re relentless! First you’re outraged that he doesn’t have spots, now you’re complaining that he does! For Merlin’s sake, Baz has finally shown himself to be as imperfect as the rest of us, so let it go, Simon.”

“He’s not imperfect. Far from it. Even his pimples are impeccable—small, unobtrusive, uh . . . restrained.”

Penny stands up, takes her plate and glares at me over the top of her glasses. “That’s enough, Simon. You’re being absurd. No one has perfect pimples.” She stomps across the hall to deposit her dishes, turning back to give me a disapproving look.

I scowl at her. Baz walks in as Penny goes out.

She’s wrong this time. Penny’s not wrong about much, but she’s wrong about this.

Baz’s pimples are fucking perfect.

It’s so fucking unfair.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383057

#carry on #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #my fics #my writing #pimples #rainbow’s twitter #watford #rainbow said Baz has acne how could I resist writing this?

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