#this just turned into me asking questions about monty and I WILL explore the answers! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Sub Rosa [72]

i. sanctum

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: mentions of past injuries, angst, sadness, death, anxiety, language, bugs (I know some people get the creepy crawlies), violence.

Summary: Monty has given all of you hope after charting your course to a new planet: Sanctum. You and a small group of friends head to the surface to explore the new planet you plan to call home.

a/n: HAPPY SEASON 6 PREMIERE! I CAN’T BELIEVE WE ARE IN THE LAST TWO SEASONS NOW, WE ARE NEARING THE END AND I THINK I MIGHT CRY!!!!! p.s. sorry for the late upload today, I was getting a christmas tree with my family!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Jordan gives you, Bellamy, and Clarke a few minutes to process everything you’ve just learned before informing you of the last of Monty’s instructions: tell your friends.

You wake a small group of people, those who were present at the meeting 125 years ago, including Spacekru, Shaw, and your mother. You tried to wake Octavia too, but Bellamy stopped you, telling you to wait for now. Though you disagree with him, you respect his decision and keep her asleep. Everyone gets a brief rundown of what’s happened since they were last awake, and then you play the videos for them too, revealing planet Alpha the same way it was revealed to you. As Monty's last lines play and the video ends, there are no dry eyes in the room from anyone that knew Monty and Harper. Everyone is crying as they peer down at the planet Monty found for the rest of you to survive on.

Bellamy takes in the group’s silence, and softly says, “I know this is a lot to process. Take an hour and meet in the mess, we need to game this out.”

Clarke looks over everyone, reminding them of Monty’s sacrifice. “Guys, we survived. Monty made sure of it.”

“Now we get our humanity back.”

Your mother’s words send Raven reeling, though you don't know why. She turns on her, pissed, and snaps, “Some of us never lost it.”

Then she storms out of the room, leaving Shaw to run out after her. You turn to look at Clarke, confused, and she mutters, “There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

“Then tell me.”

“Not here.” She nods towards the door, motioning for you and Bellamy to follow her. “Someplace more private.”

Clarke takes you and Bellamy to one of the many abandoned staterooms and proceeds to catch the two of you up on everything she learned while in Shallow Valley with the Eligius prisoners and your mother. She finally lets you both know about the Dark Year and the cannibalism in the bunker, which shocks you and Bellamy both. She also tells you about your mother’s addiction to pain pills, and her overdose that nearly killed her, and you realize now that all the times you thought she looked incredibly exhausted were because she was going through withdrawals. When she finishes updating you both, you and Bellamy sit in shock for a few minutes before she leaves to check on Madi, leaving the two of you alone to come to terms with everything you’ve learned.

You and Bellamy sit in the stateroom a while longer talking before you head back to the bridge to read over the files Monty gathered on Eligius III. As you read, you and Bellamy discuss a bare bones plan, one that can be expanded on as you talk to the rest of your friends. Once you have an idea of what to do next, you walk down to the mess hall to meet up with the others. Echo, Murphy, and Emori are already there when you arrive, sitting at a table and drinking algae from bowls that Jordan is passing around. He brings you and Bellamy both a bowl, which you eye warily before setting it down in front of you, not eager to taste it just yet. Bellamy takes a few sips, unbothered by the years of algae he had on the ring, and you watch him with amusement, nose scrunched up in disgust. He feels your gaze on him and he turns to you, trying to hide a smirk. “What?”

You peer into your bowl, staring at the bright green liquid, before looking back to him. “You’re eating that stuff?”

“It’s what we ate for six years on the ring, it’s not that bad. Besides, you should eat, you’ll need your strength.”

You think of the variety of foods you ate in Shallow Valley and sigh, knowing this isn't and will never be as good as the food from the valley, but you know Bellamy is right and you need your strength. You slide the bowl towards you and lift it, musing, “It’s no harvest of fresh berries, but-”

You never get to finish your sentence, because the table around you erupts in a series of laughs and groans. Murphy tosses his napkin at you and you laugh, looking around at all of them in confusion. “What?”

“We don’t want to hear about everything we missed out on in the valley.”

You cringe a little, not realizing how your comments must have seemed to them. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

Bellamy puts his bowl down and reaches out to put his hand on your arm. You meet his gaze and see that his eyes are still bright with amusement. “They’re just messing with you, don’t listen to them.”

Murphy adds, “And I thought you were the twin that knew how to joke. Guess six years without someone as witty as me around will make anyone lose their sense of humor.”

You roll your eyes and laugh, tossing his napkin back to him. “Shut up, Murphy.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking at you closely. “Or is your humor missing because of the whole ‘Bellamy’s ex girlfriend is sitting beside you’ thing?”

You and Bellamy both cut your eyes at him, deadpanning at the same time, “Shut up, Murphy.”

The moment is broken when you hear someone else walk in, and your eyes move to the door and land on your mother. She looks more stressed than the last time you saw her a few minutes ago, and you realize she must have gone to see Kane. She takes the bowl that Jordan offers her and goes to sit at the table behind you, alone. You turn to look at her, and Bellamy follows your gaze as he whispers, “You should talk to her.”

“I wouldn't know what to say.”

“I don't think that matters. Just being there for her would help.”

“Maybe. But my mother and I have never had a relationship like that before. That’s more of Clarke’s territory.”

He doesn't answer, unsure what to say, so he reaches out for your hand, threading your fingers together. Clarke walks into the room next, gladly accepting her bowl of algae from Jordan, and her eyes find yours as she starts to cross the room. You smile at her as she stops near your table, asking, “How’s our little sun?”

“Good. Still sleeping.”

“Good.”

Clarke nods and starts to walk away, heading towards your mom, but Bellamy calls out to her, stopping her again. “Hey, did you see Raven or Shaw on your way back?”

Emori quips, “You know, the people you handed over to our enemy to be tortured.”

“Now, for Clarke, we call that a Tuesday.”

You cut your eyes at the couple sitting across from you and snap, “Enough.”

To your surprise, Echo does the same, giving them a scolding look as she lectures, “Easy, she did the right thing in the end.”

You look at her in confusion, not expecting her to speak up in Clarke’s defense, and she meets your gaze, the air between you growing awkward again. Still, you nod your thanks, as Clarke answers Bellamy’s question and ignores the others. “No, I haven't seen them.”

She continues past your table and joins your mother, and you can hear the two of them quietly talking as soon as she sits down. You feel a soft pang of jealousy, your relationship with your mom never as good as her relationship with Clarke, only made worse by the six years you spent apart from her. At times, it was easy to forget that you, Madi, and Clarke weren't actually the last three people alive. It was easy to forget there were hundreds of people locked up in a bunker nearly a hundred miles away. You spent so long with so few people, that moments of socialization like this feel foreign to you. You’re sitting at a table of people you know and like, yet they feel like strangers to you. In a lot of ways, they are. The reunions you’ve had since they landed have been tense and stressful, carried out in the middle of a war. There’s been no time to catch up like this, to sit at a table together and just eat and talk. And now that you’re doing it, it feels weird.

Luckily, Jordan ends the weirdness by coming back into the room with a jar of algae, handing it to your mother on a tray. “First culture algae, like Bellamy used on Octavia. The first generation induces coma, and my dad was hoping you could use it to save Kane.”

Your mom takes it, a smile spreading across her face for the first time in a long time. “Thank you.”

She stands from the table, already ready to get back to Kane, turning to tell Clarke, “Take Jackson to the ground, I'll wake up Niylah to assist me.”

Clarke barely has enough time to nod before your mom rushes out of the room, just in time for Raven and Shaw to come walking in. “What did we miss?”

“Nothing.” Bellamy looks down at their conjoined hands, and the equally large smiles on their faces and muses, “It's about time.”

You nudge him with your elbow and he turns to smirk at you before standing, motioning for everyone to gather at one table. You and Bellamy stand side by side, facing them, and Clarke comes to stand on your other side, the three of you presenting a united front. You turn to Bellamy, nodding at him to begin. “Okay, everyone, listen up. Here's what we know: Eligius III was a colonizing mission. According to the file, the mothership went to 5 planets that met necessary conditions for life, dropping mission teams on each one. Monty picked planet Alpha for us because it's the closest, and probably the most like Earth.”

“Probably?”

Shaw turns to glance back at Murphy, answering his question before anyone else. “We have to assume they couldn't know for sure until they got here. We can scan the atmosphere from the bridge.”

“Actually, we can't.” You all turn to look at Jordan, waiting for him to clarify. “None of the equipment we used to monitor Earth is working. I'm guessing it's interference from the ionosphere.”

You look them all over and clarify, “Bottom line is, we won't know if it's survivable until we get down there.”

“Sounds familiar.”

You turn and smile at Clarke, thinking of your first trip to the ground, now so long ago. Raven pulls you from your thoughts when she asks, “What about radio signals? Anything from the ground that says the mission team survived?”

Bellamy shakes his head, “No radio signals.”

“Likely also the ionosphere. There is an ultra high frequency ping on radar, faint but-”

Shaw cuts him off, “A rescue beacon. We used them on Eligius IV to-”

And then Emori cuts him off, sounding excited. “Great. If there's a beacon, that means someone's down there, right?”

“Not necessarily. They're solar, so-” Raven finishes the sentence for Shaw, giving a resolute nod. “So they can last forever. How long ago did Eligius III get here?”

All of you look to Jordan again, knowing he’s the most well versed on the files from his father. “Hard to tell since they never radioed back, but the best estimate is 200 years, give or take.”

“That's a long time to wait for a rescue.”

Your gaze moves from Murphy to Echo, the only member of the group who has stayed silent the entire time. She just shrugs beneath your gaze, clearly up for anything. “I trust Monty.”

Bellamy looks at you and you nod, so he turns back to the group. “Great, then it's settled. We land at a distance, give us time to acclimate. We'll wait for them to come to us.”

Clarke breaks her silence for the first time in a few minutes, looking over at you and Bellamy. “Let's talk about guns. If we have them, we'll use them.”

Bellamy tenses beside you, and you’re sure he’s thinking of Monty’s ‘do better’ mantra. You’re also sure he’s running through a million memories of nearly being killed by Grounders as soon as you landed on Earth, because he counters, “We're taking guns.”

At your sister’s disapproving look, he adds, “We're also taking non lethals. Eligius IV had gas grenades and shock batons to control the criminals. We won't shoot first this time.”

“In that case, Clarke should stay here.”

You turn your glare on Raven, angry to hear the quip directed at your twin. You know that Clarke’s betrayal nearly got Raven and Shaw killed, and that they both had to endure torture at the hands of McCreary because of her. And though you feel sympathetic to them both, aware of how sadistic McCreary was, you think all the little quips and comments from Spacekru are becoming a little much. Yes, Clarke messed up and made terrible decisions, ones that hurt everyone, you included, but so have the rest of you at some point or another. Besides, you made a promise to the Universe that you’d do better and stop holding grudges if you got to the ship alive, so that’s what you’re going to do. It seems your version of ‘do better’ is the only one that includes forgiveness for mistakes.

Still though, you find a small amount of satisfaction watching Raven’s face fall at Bellamy’s response to her quip. “Raven, you're the one that's staying here.”

“What? Like hell I am.”

“We can't take both our pilots, and since we'll be flying blind until we're below the ionosphere, it has to be Shaw.” Raven seems to understand his reasoning, but she still looks pissed to be the one left behind. Bellamy adds, “That's not all. Jordan, you're staying, too.”

“Me? Why?”

This time you answer, turning your sympathetic gaze towards him. “I know it's hard, but your parents asked us to keep you safe. We have no idea what's waiting for us down there.”

Echo muses, “Which is why we should take our best fighters.”

Bellamy immediately turns to look at his former lover, catching onto the real meaning of her statement. “My sister is the last person I trust not to shoot first, so she stays on ice with everyone else until we know what we're dealing with.”

“And if it's too late by then?”

Bellamy grows tense, and you watch him take a deep breath before relenting. “Fine. I'll wake up Miller.”

Echo nods, satisfied with his answer, and you just look between the two of them, still uncomfortable with their interactions. Though, it’s something you’ll have to get used to, because everyone that lived on the ring together seems to stick close to each other, meaning Echo isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Bellamy looks over everyone, waiting for any more questions or comments, but when none come, he nods his head. “Good. Say your goodbyes, head to the transport ship.”

Everyone disperses from the room, prepping for the trip down to the ground. You and Bellamy go to the cubby to get your belongings, including the Iliad, which you stuff into your pack. You also wake Miller up while you’re there, and catch him and Jackson up on everything. Your mom gives you a few medkits, along with pain meds for your leg if you need it, though you’re getting around pretty well despite the gash down the back of your calf. Then you and Bellamy go to the armory and grab weapons. You holster your Grounder knife to your thigh, and you manage to find another holster small enough to fit the skull knife you swiped from the Eligius prisoner after he nearly killed you. You attach the small knife and holster around your left calf, tugging your pants down over it, now secured as a hidden weapon. Bellamy gives you a few gas canisters for your pack, along with a pistol, which you also pack into your bag. Everyone else comes to the armory at some point to arm up, and you and Bellamy pass out weapons until everyone is ready to go.

With everyone packed up, you head towards the transport ship, preparing to say your last goodbyes before you take another ship down to another planet that might not be survivable. You, Bellamy, and Clarke are the last three to arrive, walking into the hallway just as Jackson and your mom are hugging goodbye. You all wait your turn nearby, and Miller wanders over, eyes locked on Bellamy. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Thanks for taking me, that must have been hard for you.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “Not really. We go back, Miller. I trust you.”

“Even after I threw you both into the pit?”

Bellamy glances over at you, and you give him a small smile, encouraging his forgiveness. He turns back to Miller and nods. “My sister did that, not you. We're good, okay?”

Miller nods, a small smile on his face, and he waits for Jackson to step away from your mother before he follows him into the transport ship. Once your mom is free, she turns to you and Clarke, both of you stepping forward to say your goodbyes, and Bellamy hangs back and waits for you to finish. As soon as you step up to your mom, you whisper, “I’m sorry we couldn't be there for you in the bunker. Maybe if we were-”

She seems to sense where your words are heading, because a sad smile crosses her features as she lifts her hand to caress your cheek. “It’s not your fault, la lune.”

She lifts her other hand to Clarke’s cheek and adds, “I wish both of my girls could have been with me, but I’m glad neither of you had to go through what we did in the bunker.”

She glances to the door of the transport, tears welling up in her eyes. “God, I hate sending you both to the ground.”

Clarke answers, “Look, mom, if anything happens to me-”

“It won't.”

“If it does-”

Your mom nods, instantly understanding. “I'll take care of Madi.”

She pulls you both towards her, hugging you tight as you prepare to be separated from each other once again. When you pull away, you smile at her. “Go save Kane.”

She looks between you and Clarke, smiling at you both. “Go save us all.”

You nod and start to walk away together, towards the ship where Bellamy stands, still waiting. Your mom watches you both as you get closer to him, and you see his eyes land on her as she calls out to him, “Take care of my girls.”

“Yes ma’am, always.”

You smile at him and he motions for you and Clarke to step inside before him, leaving him to be the last one onto the ship. He closes the door behind him and all of you make your way to your seats, strapping yourself in between Clarke and Bellamy, nerves coiling through your body and making you jittery. Once Shaw is sure everyone is secured, he takes off, guiding the ship closer and closer to the planet as Raven calls out to him on the radio. “How are those instruments, Shaw?”

“Instruments are for amateurs.”

She starts to answer but her voice comes through staticky, impossible to hear. You look at Bellamy, growing anxious, and he smiles at you, trying to reassure you. Shaw moves the ship through the atmosphere, the clouds making it impossible for you to see anything out of the windows, the whole ship shaking from the resistance. You reach out for Bellamy, getting more nervous with each passing second, and he grabs your hand, squeezing once to let you know everything’s okay. You close your eyes and work to control your breathing as Shaw calls out, “We're below the ionosphere and I still don't have any instruments. There must be something else, hang on.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, pray.” Shaw’s response to Emori does nothing to quell your nerves, and you squeeze Bellamy’s hand hard, keeping your eyes shut tight, not sure you want to see your possible impending death. Your other hand grips the straps that secure you to your seat, and you try to keep your focus on your breathing and not the horrifying shaking that is moving the ship around. But just as you’re sure that you’re all about to die, you hear Shaw call out, “Boys and girls, meet planet Alpha.”

You pull your eyes open, gaze falling onto a set of mountain ranges, covered with lush green foliage. The sun is shining bright, lighting up the landscape, reminding you of the valley. You turn to glance at Clarke, her face a look of awe and sadness, and when she meets your gaze, you know she’s thinking of your destroyed home too. Both of you turn back to the front as Shaw finds a place to land, and once he gets the ship on the ground, all of you unbuckle your seatbelts and stand quickly, eager to get outside and explore the new planet.

Before you know it, all of you stand at the door to leave, waiting for it to lower and become the ramp that will take all of you outside. You grab both Clarke and Bellamy’s hands, prepared to die with them if the door opens to an unsurvivable planet. As it lowers, Jackson stands behind you, repeating a phrase like a mantra, “Please be breathable. Please be breathable.”

The door hits the ground, and everyone takes a few tentative breaths, looking around at each other in excitement. Jackson announces, “Breathable air, check.”

Emori checks the radiation scanner in her hand, nodding with satisfaction. “Radiation levels are good, too. Eligius III didn't need to send Nightbloods after all.”

“How about that beacon, Shaw?”

“Eight clicks due East, I think it's on high ground. There's a water source about halfway.”

You turn to look at Bellamy, remembering that he sent Octavia out first, allowing her to be the first person on Earth in over 100 years. You smile at him, urging him to do the same thing here. “You should go first this time.”

“No. We go together, all of us.”

You nod, looking over at Clarke, and she nods too. And then all of you step down the ramp tentatively, walking towards the lush green foliage that surrounds your parked transport ship. It looks like you’ve landed in a field of flowers, and trees line the field on either side, reminding you so much of when you landed in the dropship. You feel a pang in your heart, thinking about your first home away from the Ark, missing those first few days of freedom before the fight for survival began. As you near the end of the ramp, Miller asks, “Anyone got anything better than 'We're back, bitches'?”

You, Bellamy, Clarke, Miller, and Murphy all laugh, all of you the last few remaining members of the 100 (101 including Bellamy), with the exception of Octavia, who is still back on the ship. As your laughter dies down, Murphy turns serious, looking around at the beautiful landscape that surrounds you. “Monty would know what to say, he should be here.”

“He is.”

Clarke smiles, remembering his words from his final video. “He already said it: 'Do better there'. So let's do better.”

All of you nod in agreement, but you see a sour look pass over Shaw’s face as he turns to your twin. “That's easy to say, but talk is cheap.”

And before any of you can say anything to defend Clarke, he turns and walks off, gaze locked on the device in his hand that is tracking the emergency beacon. Clarke looks after him, her expression one of hurt, and you squeeze her hand, still held within your own. “He'll come around, they all will.”

She nods, her expression still sad, but you can see her push that away as she fixes a smile to her face and nods after the group. “Come on, we don't want to fall behind.”

You nod and the three of you drop hands, disconnecting, making it easier to hike after the others. Shaw leads the way and Bellamy brings up the rear, staying behind you to make sure you’re moving okay with your injured leg. Clarke keeps close to you as well, also worried about your injuries, and you know both of them are wondering if they should have left you behind to make sure you don't make things worse. Which is exactly why you try to keep your limping to a minimum, and you hide any indication that there is a growing throb of pain in your calf, courtesy of all the movement you’ve done. You don’t want to be responsible for slowing the group down, and you don't want anyone to regret bringing you, because this is a mission you wouldn't miss for the world.

After a few hours of walking, the path that you’ve been following through the woods opens up onto a beach, a large lake spread out in front of you, framed by mountains on nearly every side. As you get clear of the trees, the sky opens up too, giving you a better view of the suns in the sky, moving closer and closer to each other. Clarke sees them too, because she comments, “It looks like the suns are eclipsing.”

You look to your left, to the rest of the open sky, gaze falling on a large looking object looming nearby in space, surrounded by a ring of asteroids orbiting it. You think of everything your father has ever told you about planets and space and moons, and you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Alpha is a moon.”

Bellamy turns to you in confusion as all of you walk closer to the water. “What?”

“We’re on a moon, not a planet.” You point to the large planet in the sky. “That’s a planet, and we’re orbiting it.”

Bellamy’s face splits into a grin, in just as much disbelief as you that you’re walking on a moon, something you never could have imagined in a million years. As you all come to a stop on the shoreline, he calls out, “Looks like we found the water source. We camp here.”

Everyone starts to drop their packs, and you sigh with relief, unsure of how much more hiking you could have handled today. You briefly wonder how Murphy is doing considering the two bullet wounds he’s battling, and he seems to answer your unspoken question by dropping his pack and taking off running towards the water, whooping with excitement. You laugh as he runs into the water, despite Jackson’s protests. “Murphy. Murphy, wait! We haven't tested it! Your wounds haven't healed yet!”

Murphy ignores him and dives under the water, and all of you watch him disappear from view, waiting patiently for him to resurface. But a few seconds pass and his head doesn't pop up again, making everyone start to worry. And then a few seconds becomes a minute, and you can feel the panic level rise as Emori stares out towards the water, scanning it for any sign of Murphy. “John?”

Clarke eyes the unmoving lake with fear. “Something's wrong.”

Bellamy drops his pack, already moving to yank off his jacket and dive in after Murphy, when Murphy suddenly pops up, laughing as he looks at all of your worried expressions. “Come on in, the water's fine!”

Emori laughs, “Oh, who knew cockroaches could swim?”

“What, you want me to teach you?”

Murphy comes out of the water, walking towards his girlfriend as she starts to back away, “No, John, no.”

But before she can protest further, he scoops her up and throws her over his shoulder, taking her back towards the water and dunking them both. You turn to Bellamy with a smile as their laughter punctuates the air, a rare moment of happiness blanketing all of you as you watch on. For the first time in years, there is no death, no war, no killing to worry about. There’s just a group of you at the edge of a lake, watching your friends have fun as you explore a moon.

All of you set up camp and spend the next few hours relaxing until nightfall. Jackson checks both you and Murphy over, making sure your stitches have survived the long hike. You wince as he inspects your leg, and he doesn't miss it, though he pretends that he does. You’re thankful for that.

Once he has given you his stamp of approval, everyone lounges around the fire, relaxing for the first time in a long time. With no war looming over your heads, you're able to enjoy each other’s presence. Jackson and Miller are on the outer edge of the group, followed by Murphy and Emori, who are lounging side by side against a log. You and Bellamy are beside them, Bellamy leaned back into your arms, watching as you etch a new notch into your Grounder knife with your skull knife, recording the death of the Eligius prisoner that nearly killed you. Clarke sits on your other side, perched on a log, watching you and Bellamy, and Echo and Shaw are across from you, sharing a different log. You can feel Echo’s gaze on you every few minutes, but you avoid looking her way, not wanting to catch her eyes. Shaw ignores all of you, repeatedly calling Raven on the radio every few minutes, reminding you of the countless calls you made to Bellamy after Praimfaya.

You finish with your knives and slide them both back into their holsters, leaning back against your log and getting more comfortable. Bellamy sinks into your embrace, resting his arm over your knee, tracing invisible patterns there. One of your hands lifts to his hair, absentmindedly playing with his curls, while the other rests on his arm, keeping him as close to you as you possibly can. You hear Bellamy sigh a little, and you look down at him, following his gaze to Miller and Jackson, who sit comforting each other, clearly discussing the sins of their past. You watch them for a second too, before looking down at your boyfriend and whispering, “Miller helped keep Octavia alive, someday you'll thank him for that.”

Bellamy’s gaze lifts from the couple and up to you, clearly unconvinced. “Will I?”

You glance over at your twin, who smiles when you meet her gaze. You smile back, thinking of all the times the two of you have hurt and betrayed each other, and all the times you’ve forgiven each other and grown even closer. And you know that not every set of siblings is the same, but the Blakes operate in a way similar to you and Clarke, all of you more alike than you really realize. And there was once a time when Octavia said she’d never forgive Bellamy for the role she thinks he played in Lincoln’s death, and yet, she forgave him eventually. Octavia’s transformation into Blodreina was shocking to all of you, unable to understand how she got the way she was. But knowing the truth behind the Dark Year helps you to understand Octavia a little more. Though you can't relate to her, and you think she has done a lot of awful things, she’s not a bad person. Just like the rest of you, terrible things have been done to her, and she’s been forced to choose between the lesser of two evils, but none of that makes her bad. Choosing between death or cannibalism is enough to make anyone lose their minds a little bit. Unfortunately, you don't think Bellamy sees it quite the same way you do, but you’re sure that eventually he’ll come around. Which is why you glance down at him with a small smile on your face and whisper back, “There's no starting over without forgiveness, Bellamy.”

“I can't.”

You nod, dropping the conversation for now, aware that pushing him too hard too fast is never helpful. So you plant the seeds of forgiveness in his mind, and you leave them to grow on their own. Bellamy turns his gaze from you, sinking into your arms again, glancing over at Shaw, who mutters, “One more time, Eligius IV, this is Expedition One. Raven, do you read?”

“Raven'll get the radio fixed.” Shaw lowers the radio, face setting into a glare, which he turns on your sister, clearly not interested in any of her comfort. She sees the change, and instantly looks remorseful. “I'm sorry I turned you in, Shaw.”

“You really wanna do this now?”

Murphy calls out from your other side, sounding annoyed that his peaceful evening is about to end. “Maybe you two should speak in private.”

“No, I want you all to hear this.”

“Great.”

Clarke looks at you, and you nod, encouraging her to say her piece. “If I could, I'd go back and do things differently, but I can't. None of us can. For some reason, Monty thought we deserved a second chance.”

“Not for nothing, but this is, like, your fifth chance.”

The insult lands the way Murphy intends it to, and Clarke snaps back, “Yours too, Murphy.”

Murphy smirks, standing up and wiping sand from his pants. “Very good, I got watch.”

As Murphy walks away, Shaw turns to look at Clarke. “You're right. Your friend Monty gave you a second chance, but now what? Salvation comes from faith and good works, what you do, not what you say. You haven't done anything yet.”

Clarke says nothing in return. She just nods, accepting his anger, and you’re about to offer her words of comfort when Bellamy’s hand grows still, no longer tracing patterns on your knee. You look down at him in confusion and he mutters, “Hey, listen. You hear that?”

And as you listen, you have the horrifying realization that you hear nothing. Ten minutes ago the trees were alive with the sound of insects, and it reminds you of the silence in the air before Praimfaya, when Jaha was on the hunt for the Second Dawn bunker. You ask, “What happened to all the bugs?”

Answering your question, Jackson calls out, “You guys gotta see this!”

All of you jump to your feet and jog over to him, meeting him halfway across the beach as he holds out a jar with a bug inside. The bug is scratching and clawing at the glass, trying to reach all of you, clearly pissed that he’s locked up. “Five minutes ago, this thing ate a leaf out of my hand. Now, it wants to eat me. Not only that, its entire physiology has changed from-”

Murphy cuts him off when he slaps a bug on his neck, killing it. The bug inside the jar grows more wild, more intense, and Murphy jokes, “Oh, look at that. Your pet's pissed that I killed its brother.”

You all watch the bug closely, a chill rolling down your spine as you see it tap against the glass trying to escape. But Emori pulls all you of from your thoughts when she looks up at the sky and asks, “What the hell is that?”

You all pause, looking around as the gradual whine and buzz of bugs grows louder, and when you look towards the trees along the beach, you can see hundreds of bugs flying out over the water. Clarke whispers in horror, “Swarm.”

Echo looks at the bugs in a panic, turning to glance at the rest of you as she says, “It's coming from the direction of the ship, we'll never make it back.”

Bellamy’s demeanor changes quickly, catching onto your impending danger before anyone else does. “Everyone cover up, we're heading to the beacon now!”

All of you run back to your belongings, digging through your bags to pull out scarves and jackets, pulling them tight over your body and around your face. Just as you cover up and get your bag pulled on, the swarm bursts through the trees, heading straight for all of you. Bellamy yells, “Move, move now! Cover your faces!”

You all take off running down the beach, Shaw in the lead, the tracking device in his hand. The bugs zip and bite at your skin, all of you yelping out in pain and panic as they make contact with you. As you’re tearing through the woods, you hear Emori call out for help, and Murphy stops in front of you, turning and looking in a panic. “Emori!”

“Help!”

You stop beside Murphy, looking around, trying to find the direction of Emori’s voice over the sound of the swarming bugs, swatting them away from you as they bite and sting your still bodies. Somebody runs up to you and turns, yelling, “Take the flare out of my bag!”

Once you hear his voice, you realize it’s Miller, and you reach into his bag and grab a flare, instantly lighting it and holding it up. The bugs fly away from you, Murphy, and Miller, the three of you standing together, and you hear the others turn and run back your way. Bellamy stops at your side, his brows the only thing you can see through his face cover. They’re pulled together with worry, clearly freaked out that the two of you were temporarily separated, but as he sees the flare keep the bugs at bay, he calls out to the others, “They hate the fire! The flares, light them all!”

Two more flares are pulled from packs and lit, and you hear Emori call out for Murphy once again. He takes off running toward the sound of her voice, and you follow him, keeping the flare held high so neither of you will get attacked. You hear the other two flares burning nearby, following you as you reach Emori, who is laying on the ground and shielding her face. Jackson and Murphy pull her to her feet, and you turn to look at the other flare holders, calling out to them. “Stay together, flares at 3 corners!”

They nod, Shaw taking the lead with his flare, as you and Echo take the back corners, gathering the others inside of your safe zone. All of you run through the woods in a tight knit group, following Shaw as he calls out, “Here, it's here!”

He breaks free from the trees and into an open space, and before any of you realize what’s happening, Shaw lets out a sudden scream of pain. Your eyes land on him, surrounded by smoke, light, and electricity, all circling his body. He falls to the ground, yelling in pain, clearly stuck in something. Searching for a source, your eyes follow one of the bolts of electricity up to a tower. Beside that tower is another, then another, towers spaced out every few feet, forming some sort of invisible barrier, which Shaw is now caught in. Jackson yells to the man, who is still screaming in pain, “Shaw, get out of there!”

“It's killing him! Get him out!”

You look to the towers again, eyes falling on a large danger sign, bright yellow with a large message printed on it. WARNING: RADIATION. You turn to look at the others, yanking your face covering down as your eyes find Bellamy’s. “It’s radiation, it won’t affect me!”

You see his expression morph into one of panic, but you take off running before he can stop you, ignoring his scared voice following you to Shaw, “No! Get back, natshana!”

You cross right through the barrier, your body feeling nothing as you hook your arms beneath Shaw’s, yelling to be heard over his screams of pain, “Hang on, Shaw! I got you!”

You drag him into the field on the other side of the barrier, his cries of pain stopping as soon as the electricity stops connecting to his body. You drop down at his side, getting a look at him from the light from one of the flares, his skin covered in lesions, red and angry, reminding you of Clarke after Praimfaya. You hear the shield crackle briefly as Clarke runs through, following your path, dropping down on Shaw’s other side and looking at him in alarm. The two of you share a worried look, knowing that much radiation was barely survivable with Clarke’s Nightblood, but your thoughts are interrupted by Bellamy calling out, “We're running out of time here!”

Shaw looks at you, reaching out to grab your hand, “The tower.”

You look down at him, nodding. “I see it.”

“Eligius tech, the failsafe code. 47815.”

You look to Clarke, and she nods, immediately taking off running towards the tower. You tug off your pack, yanking it open and digging around until you find your medkit, hand closing around it as Clarke yells to the others, “It's down! Run now!”

The others run inside the barrier, and you hear it go back up a second later as Clarke retypes the code, killing all the bugs as they hit the shield. You search through your medkit until you find morphine, enough to take away Shaw’s pain as he dies from the radiation. You fight the wave of emotion that threatens you, trying to stay calm for both Shaw and the others as you pull the painkiller out of your bag, reaching out for his hand so you can inject it into one of his veins. But his hand closes over yours, and you look to Shaw in shock as he gasps out, “No, don't waste it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he looks away from you and over to Clarke, who has just dropped down to his other side. “Earn this.”

She nods, and you meet her eyes, both of you aware that these are likely his final words. Shaw turns back to you, squeezing your hand to get your attention, and you move your gaze back down to his, meeting his eyes. “Tell Raven she deserves happiness. She doesn't think she does, but...she does.”

You nod, fighting back your tears as you remember Shaw’s kindness to you when the prisoners took you hostage. The only person who advocated for you, tried to keep you safe, stitched you up after you were shot. You whisper, “I will, I’ll tell her.”

And as soon as he has your confirmation that you’ll pass on his dying wish, he takes one last shaky breath, and then he goes completely still. You drop your head, trying to hide your tears, thankful when the last of the flares dies out, plunging all of you into darkness. You feel someone kneel down beside you, wrapping strong arms around you, and you know it’s Bellamy before he tugs you closer to him, tucking your crying face into his chest. You allow yourself to shed a few tears for the man you barely knew, before you dry your eyes, and look to Bellamy. “We should bury him.”

He nods, pulling a shovel from his bag, and Miller grabs one from his own, the two men digging a grave for the Eligius pilot. It takes a while to dig a hole big enough, the shovels small, only digging up small patches of dirt at a time, and dawn starts to settle in before you get him buried. As the boys work, you and Clarke make a cross out of a thick branch, remembering his story about being an altar boy in his life before Eligius, meaning he was probably still religious. You use your knife to carve his name into the wood, and once he’s buried beneath the dirt, Bellamy helps you drive the cross into the ground, marking his grave.

Bellamy says the Traveler’s Blessing, honoring Shaw one last time before you all continue your own final journey on the ground. “In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.”

You all whisper, “May we meet again.”

You sit around the grave in silence for a few seconds longer before you start to walk away, following Bellamy and the tracker to the path that is etched out in the field around you. You all follow it in silence, you, Bellamy, and Clarke in the lead, and eventually the field gives way to an incline, the path now winding up a mountainside. As you near the top, Emori finally breaks the group’s silence. “What kind of people have a radiation fence?”

Clarke counters, “The kind of people that want to keep something out.”

Bellamy ignores them both and announces to the others, “Beacon should be right up ahead.”

Clarke shifts closer to you, voice dropping slightly. “What are we gonna tell Raven?”

“That he died a hero.” Clarke nods, accepting your answer. Murphy, however, does not. “Look, I do hate to make this about us, but-”

Clarke cuts him off, “Then don't. Shaw just saved your life, Murphy.”

“I'm aware. I'm also aware that we just lost our pilot. Madi's still up there, you're not worried you're never gonna see her again?”

Clarke spins, turning to shove Murphy, and you and Miller reach out for her, grabbing her to hold her back. Miller glares at Murphy and mutters, “Ignore him.”

Everyone stops to watch the scene unfolding around you, and Murphy turns to Miller, a smirk on his face. You sigh, knowing shit is about to hit the fan. “Your Red Queen is still up there too, Miller. Who you gonna follow now?”

Miller grabs the front of Murphy's jacket, and you’re about to step in and break up their fight when Bellamy calls out, “Hey! Miller! As therapeutic it is to beat up on Murphy, Emori can fly.”

“Sure. Yeah. I've had one successful landing in a ship I trained in for 6 years.” Emori smiles sarcastically, clearly not confident in taking over the pilot duties. “No problem.”

Echo, who has stayed silent the entire time, calls out to the rest of you, “Guys, stairs.”

You spin around, following her pointed finger, and all of you start moving again, excited at what you’ll find at the top. “Easy. We approach slow, no hostile movements.”

Everyone keeps their guns held low, trying to appear as docile as possible, and as you climb up the stairs it brings you to the edge of a large village. There are houses everywhere, a small pond in the center, and in the back, behind it all, is a large palace, looming high in the sky. You all look at it in shock, taking in the bright colors of the village, and Murphy whispers in awe, “They have a castle.”

You walk slowly into the village, looking for any sign of civilization, surprised to see it still and unmoving. You all spread out, knocking on the doors of the homes in search of people, and you aren’t apart for long before Emori turns towards you, Clarke, and Bellamy, calling out to you, “Hey!”

You all walk over to her, looking up at the small flag she’s pointing to. It’s purple in color, with two suns shining at the bottom of the flag. Within the bottom sun is the infinity logo, and Emori eyes it warily. “Alie?”

You feel a rush of fear until you remember the infinity symbol was part of Becca’s corporate logo. The very same Becca who created the Eligius tech. You shake your head at Emori, reassuring her, “Becca did the tech for Eligius.”

Bellamy deadpans, “Right. Destroy the world, and 200 years later they put you on a flag.”

You look over at him, not used to hearing the cynical tone from him. He gives you and Clarke half a smirk. “See? Hope for us yet.”

You roll your eyes, watching as he turns away and walks over to Murphy, who stands pounding on a door. “Hello? Invaders from Earth. Can we come in?”

“John, keep it down.”

“I don't know why we're knocking. We’ve gone door to door, and no one's here.”

“We don't know that yet.”

Bellamy glares towards Murphy, watching him walk from one door to the next one. “These are people's homes, we're not breaking in like thieves.”

“Bellamy's right. If we want to do better here, we can't just-”

Murphy cuts you off by swiftly kicking the next door open, the double doors flying wide and bouncing against the wall on the inside. You all turn to look at him, incredulous, and he smirks back at you, unbothered. “Well, look at that. This one's unlocked.”

You and Bellamy share a look before you follow Murphy into the open room. Clarke steps in behind you, all of you walking over to a small, miniature altar. Hanging above it is the same flag from before, along with a picture of a smiling family. Below that is a collection of bowls, filled with various objects. You muse, “It's some kind of shrine.”

Clarke kneels down and lifts one of the bowls, turning it towards you and Bellamy. “Blood.”

A shiver rolls down your spine, not liking the idea of blood sacrifices. Bellamy peers at the photo, getting a closer look, before he looks over at you and your twin. “Eligius III, all named Lightbourne.”

Your brows pull together, turning to look at Clarke. “They sent families?”

She nods, assuming that’s the case, and you wonder what it would have been like to leave your home planet and journey to a new one. You guess, in a way, that’s what all of you are doing now. Though, Eligius III probably chose their space exploration. All of you were forced into it. Bellamy gazes at the picture again. “Nice to be remembered.”

Clarke counters, “Or worshipped.”

You step back from the shrine, not wanting to spend anymore time in the room, an eerie feeling washing over you. “Come on, we shouldn't be here.”

Bellamy and Clarke nod, both of them following you towards the door. As you near the exit, Murphy holds up a small device. “Hey, you want a music player?”

Bellamy cuts his eyes to the troublesome cockroach, taking the music player from his hands and returning it to the table near the door. “Behave, Murphy.”

All of you walk out of the shrine, closing the doors behind you, before Bellamy calls out to the whole group, “Split up, look for any signs someone was here.”

Everyone does as they’re told, breaking off into small groups, and you, Clarke, and Bellamy all travel together to the other side of the pond, investigating some of the buildings on the outer edge of the village. When you find nothing, Bellamy wanders over to a swing set, motioning for you to sit in the swing that hangs in front of him, and you pull off your pack and smile at him before settling into the seat. He pushes you, soft at first, your body moving back and forth slowly, until he starts to push harder, your body now swinging through the air. You close your eyes and let out a laugh, amazed at the rush of wind over your skin, making you feel like you’re flying. When you open your eyes again, Bellamy now stands in front of you where you can see him, his gaze locked on you, his smile wide and full of adoration. You smile back at him, both of you watching each other as you slowly lose speed, finally coming to a stop again. Bellamy plops into the swing beside you, and you reach out for him, both of you holding hands as you sit side by side. Your moment of serenity, however, is ruined by the sound of someone loudly singing. You and Bellamy both turn your gazes towards the source of the sound, finding Murphy standing at the top of the castle stairs, singing loudly to all of you. You look over at your boyfriend, both of you laughing as soon as you lock eyes, turning to look back at the personal concert Murphy is giving all of you.

You watch him for a few minutes, and Bellamy eventually reaches into his pocket and pulls out the radio that Shaw was carrying, deciding to test the reception from your new location. “Raven, come in. You read me?”

As expected, the radio is silent, and Bellamy sighs before putting it back into his pocket. You look around at the village, an eerie realization washing over you. “This place is too well maintained to be abandoned. Any guesses where all the people went?”

“If they’re gone, then there's enough room here for everybody on the ship.”

You nod, turning to look around for Clarke, wanting to ask her opinion. But when you look around, your twin is gone, no longer lingering nearby. The building behind you, however, has a door swung wide open, and you turn to Bellamy. “Let’s go find Clarke.”

He nods, and you drop his hand as the two of you stand from the swings, wandering over to the open door of the building, relieved to find Clarke standing inside, a children’s book in her hand. You call out to her, “Hey.”

She looks up in surprise, not hearing either of you walk in, a smile spreading across her face. “Hey.”

You and Bellamy walk closer to her, and you realize now that the building is a small school. There are toys and books everywhere, along with easels, abandoned with art still hanging from them. Clarke closes the book in her hand and looks around at the room. “I wish Madi could have gone to school.”

Bellamy whispers, “I wish Octavia could have.”

You add, “I wish I could have.”

They both look at you, realizing that despite the fact you learned nearly everything Clarke did, you never actually got the experience of going to school like they did. You got close to going on a field trip once, until you opened your mouth and ruined the trick you and Clarke played on your mom.

Clarke hands you the book in her hand, her eyes gazing at the radio sticking out of Bellamy’s pocket as she does. She turns her gaze to him as you peer down at the book. “Still no luck on the radio?”

“No.”

“Trust me, I know the feeling.” You don’t even realize the words have left your mouth until they do. You freeze up, then try to relax, aware that Bellamy won’t understand what that means, and that your secret is still safe. Bellamy surprises you by whispering, “I'm sorry I couldn't respond all those years.”

You freeze again, your eyes going wide in alarm as you turn to look at him, worried about his reaction. He sees the panic on your face, along with the confusion of how he knows when you never told him, and he clarifies, “Madi told me.”

You sigh, “Of course she did.”

You see Clarke shift awkwardly beside you, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand as she mutters, “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

You nod, barely looking her way, your eyes still locked on Bellamy. When you hear the door of the school close behind Clarke, you look up at his soft expression, no sign of weirdness in his gaze. “I know it sounds crazy, but talking to you every day, even though you didn't answer, it kept me sane. It made me feel like you were still with me.”

“It's not crazy.” He reaches out and grabs your free hand, the one not holding the book, and he threads your fingers together. “I’m so sorry I left you behind. I regretted it everyday for six years, and I still regret it now. I wish I could have been with you, or at the very least, I wish I could have answered your radio calls while we were separated. I hate that I left you on earth alone.”

“I don't want you to regret leaving me behind, Bellamy. You did exactly what I wanted you to do and made a decision that was right for everyone. It was hard to be separated from you for so long, but I had Madi and Clarke, so I wasn't completely alone.” You smile at him, trying to make a joke out of the situation. “Besides, most of the radio calls weren’t that interesting, just little updates about what we did that day, how I was feeling, stuff like that. Largely uneventful.”

He smiles back at you. “Still, I wish I could have heard them.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, long and slow, and you melt into his arms. The two of you have six years worth of lost kisses to make up for, and you’re more than happy to start now. Bellamy must be too, because he backs you up a little, until your butt hits the table behind you. He surprises you by pulling back and swiping the art supplies away, knocking them onto the floor, and you look up at him in shock. He meets your gaze, looking sheepish, before whispering, “Oops.”

You laugh and he pulls you in for a kiss again, tasting your laughter, smiling against your lips. His hands reach beneath your thighs, lifting you and sliding you back onto the table. Your hands go up, around his neck, and you lose your grip on the book that’s been in your hand the entire time. It hits the floor, the spine loudly smacking on the ground, and you pull away and repeat Bellamy’s earlier words. “Oops.”

He bends down to pick it up, his eyes falling on the title, and you watch the amusement on his face turn into one of curiosity. He holds the book up and reads the title out to you, “Red sun rising?”

He flips the book open to the first page, and the two of you read the words together, something about it seeming a little more familiar than you'd like it to. You exchange a look and without a word you hop off the table, both of you heading outside. Your eyes fall on Clarke, who is standing nearby, listening to Murphy sing. “Clarke!”

She turns and looks at you and Bellamy as you approach, and when you stop by her side, Bellamy holds out the book. “Clarke, did you read this?”

“No.”

She looks between the two of you in confusion, and Bellamy flips open the book to the first page, beginning to read. “Trees and plants give us shade. We eat them every day.”

He turns the page, passing it to her as he reads, “When the stars align, and the forest wakes, it's time to run away.”

Clarke stares at the picture of the large red sun, her eyes lifting to the eclipsing suns in the sky, looking almost identical to the picture on the page. She flips through the next few pages, reading the words quickly before she looks over at you and Bellamy, horrified. “It's not a nursery rhyme, it's a warning.”

Before either of you can answer, Murphy stops his singing to yell out, “No! No!”

You all turn towards the palace, looking at him in confusion, finding that his gaze is firmly locked on the sky. When you follow it, you realize why. Your transport ship is lifting from the ground, before it turns and flies off quickly, leaving all of you abandoned here, without another way back up to the sky. But then the chaos isn't finished there, because you hear a bloodthirsty cry break through all of your thoughts, and when you look back to Murphy, you see Emori leaping at him, a knife in her hand. Before you’ve even processed the image, she stabs him in the shoulder, and he falls to the ground with a cry of pain.

You, Bellamy, and Clarke take off running towards them, though you’re the farthest from the couple, and the wound on your calf aches from the strain you’re putting on it now. Miller and Jackson are lounging nearby on the stairs, along with Echo, and Clarke yells, “Miller, stop her!”

Miller and Echo reach Emori first and avoid the knife she’s swinging, both of them managing to grab her and pull her off of her boyfriend. The three of you finally reach them, dropping down to Murphy’s side, next to Jackson as he looks him over. Emori fights against Echo and Miller, screaming out, “He'll do it to you too! He'll do it to you too!”

All of you look at her in confusion, not understanding what she means, as Bellamy helps Jackson put pressure on the knife wound on Murphy’s shoulder. You look over at your twin, scared, unsure what to do, and her gaze is on the book in her hands. She seems to read the words again, taking them in, before she looks up to the sky, staring at the eclipsing sun. You watch her face morph into one of horror before she looks to you, looking just as scared and unsure. And then she says the words none of you are ready to hear: “It's in the air.”

next chapter

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

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pawprintsmoon · 4 years ago

Text

Wanheda in Sunnydale; the Commander of Death

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060634

The first time Clarke the Vampire Slayer tried to dust the mysterious vampire, they did not exchange words. It must have been an off night for the Slayer, because after their fight the undead woman ran off into the night unharmed.

The second time they met, the vampire got away again. Right before disappearing, she had let her face relax out of it’s fighting wrinkles. She had the most hauntingly green eyes and the most infuriating little smirk. Clarke committed her face to memory, for there were not many vampires who could continue to best her. This was easy, for the vampire’s face was so memorable that Clarke saw it in her dreams for the next several nights.

Just as the vampire was about to get away for the third time, Clarke called after her: “Who are you?”

She turned slowly back to face Clarke, looking down at her from the large grave she was unceremoniously jumping over to leave.

“Why, Slayer?” she asked softly. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not.” Clarke glared and gripped her stake tight. Then after a small sigh she said, “But I’ll admit that you are a formidable fighter.”

“Oh stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“Oh yeah? With what blood?”

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” she asked, ignoring Clarke’s response.

“Well the undead can’t really be killed.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “You’re already dead, genius. Looks like your brains don’t match up to your fighting skills.”

“Come now,” the vamp feigned a look of hurt, “you’ll hurt my feelings if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll hurt more than your feelings if you’re not careful!”

“No, you won’t.” The Vampire turned away slowly to meander away through the graveyard. She called over her shoulder, “I know you have a soft spot for me, Slayer.”

Clarke fumed, but let her get away a third time. There was more patrolling to do and her watcher wouldn’t be happy to hear she’d wasted her night on one inconsequential vamp.

The next time they met the fight was brief and Clarke had her cornered against the stone wall of a crypt. Right before she was about to drive the stake into the vamp’s heart, however, her forehead wrinkles smoothed out to make the vampire look human. In Clarke’s moment of hesitation she spoke.

“I’m Lexa,” she whispered. Clarke froze, except her labored breathing from the combat. “You asked who I was, remember?”

Of course Clarke remembered. She didn’t move a muscle and neither did Lexa. Lexa didn’t need to breathe, of course, but she was choosing to and Clarke could feel the cool puffs of her exhales.

“That’s just my name though,” said Lexa. “There’s much more you could know about me.”

“I don’t want to know anything about you,” snarled Clarke, pulling back her arm to stake Lexa through the heart. Just as she did so, Lexa grabbed her attacking wrist and spun them both around so that Clarke was the one pressed against the crypt wall.

“Well,” Lexa said softly, “I’d like to know more about you.”

Clarke pushed her away and followed through with a kick to the stomach that made Lexa roll to the ground. She rolled back up however, ready with a punch. So they fought and Clarke convinced herself that her hesitation meant nothing. But when Lexa got away a fourth time she knew she ought to be concerned.

The resulting conversation with her watcher, Marcus Kane, consisted of instructions to meditate and reassess her feelings. He said that it was not the first time that a Slayer had been attracted to a vampire. Clarke immediately denied any such attraction to the monster and simply trained harder than ever. Perhaps she could sweat it out. The possibility that certain vampires could have souls lingered in her mind, however. So did Lexa’s green eyes and sarcastic remarks. Over and over again Clarke and Lexa would meet in the graveyard, pretend to fight, and never end up with real bruises or cuts.

One night in late October, Clarke was in the tunnels underneath Sunnydale defeating a Haxil Beast when three more gigantic demons joined them. Just as Clarke was considering retreat, Lexa appeared with two long and lethal swords. In seconds one of the demons was dead and oozing puss on the tunnel floor. With no time for questions, Clarke accepted Lexa’s help, and together they took out the remaining demons.

After the fight and before they could speak. Lexa disappeared into the night leaving Clarke with a thousand questions. The Slayer immediately went to the Magic Shop to share her concerns with her watcher, Mr Kane. Immediately they hit the books. Clarke was just starting to feel guilty about not thanking Lexa for coming to her aid, when Mr Kane showed her the records of Lexa’s past. She was known to the demon world as ‘The Commander.’ A pretentious and narcissistic title.

His interpretation of the horrors that Lexa had committed, suggested that Clarke should avoid upsetting her. Raven and Monty agreed that it would be useful to keep a vampire on their side and even Bellamy and Octavia were prepared to follow their advice.

Grudgingly, Clarke agreed as well. These horror stories were more than enough to remind Clarke not to be attracted to monsters.

And yet.

And yet…

The months went on and Lexa continued to show up just in time to fight at her side. Often Lexa would appear with helpful information when Clarke was leaving the Bronze late at night, or patrolling among graves. She would always come with information about the Big Bad -a dangerous and mad woman with inhuman powers and mysterious origin. Her power was the Apocalypse causing type.

“Clarke. You need to know this…” or “I’m here to help you Clarke.” More than once Clarke would ask, “Why are you doing this?” and “How do you know all of this about Alie?”

Lexa never gave a straight answer until the night before Clarke was going to face off with Alie, who Lexa had informed her was a god separated from her home dimension. Clarke and her friends had laid out an insane plan and now it was just time to wait. In the morning they would save the world but tonight everyone went to their respective houses to sleep. Lexa insisted on walking Clarke to her house.

“Why are you walking me home?” Clarke asked as she allowed Lexa steps to fall in sync with her own.

“To protect you.”

“I’m the slayer, I hardly need protecting. You could have walked Monty home instead.”

“Monty got a ride with Raven, Clarke.” The slayer shivered at the way Lexa always announciated the ‘k’ at the end of her name. “And you’re the slayer. Alie is most likely to come after you.”

Their footsteps made the only noise for a moment before Lexa whispered, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why?” Clarke all but yelled. The stress of tomorrow’s plan exacerbated the constant frustration that was the Commander. “Why are you helping me?”

“Just trust me,” Lexa replied, voice still soft. Those eyes. So soft and sincere and not at all like a demon.

“Why would I trust you? You are death itself.” Clarke wanted to punch the vampire. Or lunge at her in some other way.

Lexa apparently shared that urge because instead of answering, she pulled Clarke into a hard, passionate kiss. Clarke’s body responded as her mind buzzed with white noise. It was rough and thrilling. Lexa’s hands were exploring the skin just under the hem of her shirt before Clarke pulled away.

“No.” Clarke shook her head. “No. Being a good kisser does not equate to being trustworthy.”

“So you think I’m a good kisser, then?”

“I think you’re probably a good liar and you definitely have secrets and you should go back to your crypt.”

“I am a good kisser.” Lexa smirked, moving closer to Clarke, hands still on her waist. “You’re good too.”

“Please…” Clarke’s suspicious mind wondered if the vampire was really saying that she tasted good. The still buzzing part of her mind was vaguely thinking that Lexa tasted good. Then Lexa took several steps away and the California air felt cold.

“Right.” Lexa nodded, suddenly serious and impassive. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We will send the goddess back to the City of Light. Do not worry.”

Clarke wanted to apologize, but she also didn’t want to apologize. So she turned away and walked home alone.

Early the next morning Clarke and her friends went out to an empty construction site to defeat Alie. Just after Raven failed to close the portal to Alie’s home dimension (the City of Light) everyone discovered why Lexa was called the Commander. Try as she might, Clarke could not completely corner the powerful goddess. Only when Lexa finally stepped in and commanded Alie through the portal. They all shared the victory, but Lexa had exhibited a special power that nobody could explain.

Faced with a full team of armed and curious demon-fighters, Lexa revealed the most important secret. Before becoming a vampire, she’d come from a long line of demi-god from the City of Light. Clarke couldn’t quite pretend to be surprised.

“Wait,” said Raven, her eyes wide and staring at Lexa. “If you’re part god, that means... you have a soul. The goddess part of you would have protected your soul when you were sired.”

Clarke felt as if her heart had stopped beating. She searched Lexa’s face, desperate for confirmation. The Commander’s silent nod pushed her heart to back into beating, hard and full of adrenaline.

The moments were too long until they were alone again and Clarke’s pulse pounded inside her the whole time. Finally, the sun set and Clarke and Lexa were alone in the Magic Shop.

“You have a soul?”

“I do.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want to distract you,” Lexa explained. “I know you would’ve cared for me and I didn’t want to be a weakness for you.”

“It was a lie of omission.” Clarke did indeed feel somewhat weak at the knees. Last night Lexa had asked for trust, and now Clarke was tempted to give it. “If you ever lie to me again-”

“I won’t.” Their eye contact was infinite. “And it would be a lie if I denied my feelings for you now. I understand if you can never want me. I may have a soul, but there is still demon in me. There is goddess too. I am not human, and you are so beautifully human.”

Lexa knelt down before her, a promise on her face. The magic of this moment was tangible.

“Because of my power and lineage, I am known as the Commander,” Lexa said softly. “But last night you told me that I am death. You were right. But you, Clarke, are the chosen one. The Slayer. The Commander of Death. I am death. And I swear fealty to you.”

Clarke offered Lexa a shaking hand and pulled the vampire to her feet. Everything she was thinking could not be put into words. So instead of speaking, she stepped toward Lexa and reached up to caress her cheek. Lexa leaned closer, all hesitation and desire.

When their lips met, everything softened. When Lexa reached up to run her fingers through blonde hair, it was as if Clarke was spun of glass and she was afraid of breaking her. When Clarke’s lips opened to taste the Commander the hunger that stirred inside her was incredibly human. When that hunger became too intense, Clarke pushed her against a table and tossed aside all caution.

Fingers dug into hips and roamed under shirts. Books were pushed off the table to fall open on the floor. Clothing was abandoned along with all inhibitions. Two bodies explored each other, discovering pleasure through their closeness. Two girls with the weight of the world on their shoulders floated as light as air. This time Lexa didn’t run off into the night, but stayed in Clarke’s arms until morning.

(At which point they snuck off to Lexa’s cozy candlelit crypt because they were still at the Magic Box and even Slayers, gods, and vampires prefer beds over tables. They spent the entire next day in bed, actually. They deserved it, they had just saved the world after all.)

#clextober20 #7DaysofClexa #Day5 creatures of the night #I really had no idea I was going to write this #the 100 #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #femslash fanfic #day5 #clexa #no beta we die like ben #crossover life

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morbidly-malicious-muffins · 4 years ago

Note

Since you're currently accepting requests I wanted to ask if you could do a imagine of the reader giving their slasher SO a lap dance ?🤔 The reader can be gender neutral, male or female - with whatever you're comfortable with 😇 Thank you in advance 🤗

Of course! You did not specify which slasher, so I shall elect one of my favorite boys to be rewarded with 1 lap dance.

Just a heads up tho, I have never recieved or performed a lap dance myself, so I don't quite know how it all should play out, whether there are any rules at all etc. So this'll be how I would perform/want to recieve a lap dance, should the opportunity arise xDDD

Warnings: Suggestive themes, sexual to the point that it may be lime, but there is no actual insertion mentioned. May or may not be safe for work, depending on your tolerance meter. Though public consumption is advised against.

Note: Reference 'Supermassive Black Hole' by Muse as the song I imagined Reader-Chan dancing to.

' Dirty '

[Giving Thomas Hewitt (Leatherface) a (Well Deserved) Lap Dance 🙈]

You hadn't had the opportunity to spend much quality time with your hard-working husband all week, due to the significant amount of duties and tasks he had to attend to throughout the week. For recently, vegetation has been scarce, and travelers have been as abundant as the Hewitts are hungry.

As for you, well, all you had to do was hang around the Hewitt household and help mama out with some chores. Both Monty and Hoyt are generally dull as dirt, and mama is always hanging with the tea lady squad. To be quite frank, you'd been bored out of your mind, and missing Thomas like crazy.

It is Sunday, and you have had plenty of time to have come up with a master plan to finally get some potential sexy-time in. You thought a lap dance was the perfect idea.

------

Breathing out a weary sigh, Thomas proceeded to stomp up from the basement to your shared room for the first time in a week or so. The thought of finally getting back the luxury that is sharing a bed with you, made his chest flutter in excitement and glee.

He reached for the handle of the door, beyond which was something he had been looking forward to for several days, but he noticed the sound of some.... Music? His hand paused in mid-air. What were you up to? You normally listen to music downstairs on the radio. Unusual. He cautiously cracked the door open to find his lover, you, in nothing but your underwear, some strapped heels, and a thin shawl around your shoulders, swaying your hips to the music (Reference 'Supermassive Black Hole' by Muse) in the middle of the room, where a single chair was placed.

Thomas' breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide as globes. The sight of you like that was so.... Tempting.

Upon noticing your now-dumbstruck husband standing rock-stiff in the doorway, you looked straight into his eyes with a scandalously flirtatious gaze. You held eye contact as you danced and twirled your way to greet him.

"Welcome back Tommy."

You kissed his chin gently, breaking him out of his trance.

"I missed you so, so terribly."

His fingers started to feather up and down your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He grabbed your hand delicately and leaned in to kiss you, only for you to pull back just right before your mouths made contact. Thomas gave you a confused look.

You playfully licked your lips, grinning, before tugging his hand as a signal for him to come with you.

Tommy was very confused, but complied anyway, figuring only something great would come of this.

Fingers loosely hooked in Tommy's, you lead him to the middle of the room where the chair you had set up stood. His undeniably hungry eyes now were roaming carefully across your body, gaze lingering longer on all the wrong parts. Your hands traveled up to his back and arm, you guided him in front, and down onto the chair, all in time with the -rather erotic- beat of the music.

You turned around and let the shawl slowly slide down your body as you strutted to the far side of the room. You slipped the thin fabric off, and hung it onto the coat hanger before suddenly spinning around, startling Thomas momentarily. You dropped your knees and one of your hands to the floor with a light thud, and looked your husband dead in the eyes as you felt yourself down with your free hand.

Thomas swallowed. Were you putting up a show for him? He was so confused. Well, not that he could ever complain about this though.

With a teasing smack of your own butt, you started to crawl hands and knees toward Thomas.

Tommy subtly rubbed his moist palms on his pants, already feeling the arousal starting to seep in between his legs.

You softly sang to the words of the song, as you stood up in front of him and spread your thighs to hover-straddle Thomas' lap. You deliberately located your chest at exactly eye-level for him.

"Oh baby don't you know I suffer, and oh baby can't you hear me moan...."

That seemingly answered Thomas' question, and his agape mouth started to pull up at the sides, flattered and aroused that you would do all this just for him.

You took that as a good sign, and proceeded to dance on him some more, rolling and thrusting your hips to the beat of the song, throwing your head back and forth.

With your hands settled on both his shoulders, you felt him stop breathing for a second when you ground your hips down once on his groin.

Pressing his face to your chest, Tommy's hands started to graze up your thighs, before roughly grabbing and squeezing your butt, making a startled moan escape out of you.

"Hmmm~ You're so naughty, Tommy."

Thomas felt a shiver crawl down his spine when you whispered seductively into his ear.

Biting your lip, you stepped back and off of your husband's lap to resume your interactive show in another position. Thomas' fingers lingered like a ghost as you went into a squat position, ass proudly facing him.

Thomas almost passed out when you threw one quick sideways glance back at him and started twerking you both into blissful oblivion.

Occasionally you would dip your hips low enough to grind against Thomas' aching groin, every time staying there just long enough to feel the prescence of his throbbing hard.

Your hands wandered and explored your own body as you lost yourself in the music and the intoxicating feeling of Thomas' shaky, sensual touches around your waist and hips, and the tickle of his hot, rapid breaths against your body.

-------------

Mmmmmm yes some Tommy sexiness.

Thanks for the request @bavarian-gurl ! Sorry it took so long <3

Aaaand you all know the drill, just have a nice day/evening for me, will ya? ;)

---Zali 🖤

#mmmmm tommy yummy #slashers #thomas hewitt #leatherface #tcm 2003 #tcm 2006 #tcm #the texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt x reader

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densi-mber · 4 years ago

Text

TLC

A/N: For today’s prompt. Takes place shortly after Deeks returns in season 5. This one’s a bit angsty and explores some possible PTSD symptoms.

***

“Hey, what do you want for lunch?” Kensi asked, holding her phone up as she waited for Deeks’ reply. “Callen is going to that new deli.”

Deeks didn’t respond and after a minute she glanced up, frowning when she realized he was still bent over his desk, face obscured by his hair.

“Deeks!” He looked up slowly, his expression slightly confused, and a little vacant.

“What?” he said finally. His voice sounded rough, like he hadn’t spoken in a while. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t heard him talking as much as he normally would. In fact, Sam and Callen had an in-depth discussion about which of them would win in a triathlon and Deeks barely contributed.

“Lunch,” she repeated. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I’m not really hungry.” He scratched at his beard, making a face and looked back down at his work.

“You sure?”

“Yup.” He started typing again, effectively ending the conversation, but Kensi watched him for a few more minutes. He looked thinner than usual Kensi realized and tried to remember if she’d seen him eat lunch at all this week.

Maybe she’d grab him a sandwich anyways.

***

Kensi tried not to let it bother her. Deeks wasn’t hungry, it wasn’t the end of the world. It was his first week back from the most horrific time of his life and his behavior wasn’t going to be completely normal.

Still, she found herself watching him for the rest of the day. He’d refused the extra sandwich she’d got him, even seeming a little annoyed that she was bothering him. On top of that, he was definitely withdrawn, quieter than normal. It was like something had been dimmed inside him, she realized.

Sighing, Kensi tossed her pen down, giving up on the paperwork she was supposed to turn in by tomorrow. It was after 8 and she and Deeks were the only ones still there. He seemed almost oblivious to her presence which gave her plenty of time to observe him.

She couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked about surfing or Monty’s latest shenanigans at the dog park. It terrified her; not just because it felt like she was losing her best friend, but also because she’d seen this before.

With Jack. He’d started out the same way. In their last few months together barely talked some days, unless it was to argue. She hadn’t been able to do anything to help Jack, but she could certainly make sure the same thing didn’t happen to Deeks.

She started to say something to him, but held back, knowing he’d just brush her off or change the subject. Her stomach growled and she remembered that she hadn’t eaten since lunch. She glanced at him one more time, but he still seemed completely preoccupied and didn’t look up once as she grabbed her bag and quietly left the room.

“Who’s the best partner ever?” Kensi sang about 20 minutes later, waving a foam container under Deeks’ nose. He grimaced, leaning back a little with a vaguely confused face.

“Is that chicken soup?” he asked, sniffing. The shadows under his eyes were visible even in the less than stellar lighting, but she smiled like everything was fine.

“Yup. Your favorite kind, with extra noodles.” She pried the lid off and set it in front of Deeks along with a plastic spoon. He stared at it for a moment, then shook his head.

“I’m not really that hungry.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said earlier and I’m not buying it, so drink up,” she urged him. Deeks crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

“Kensi, I’m-“

“Deeks, when’s the last time you ate?” she interrupted. He looked stumped by her question, scratching at his beard again and then reaching for his hair. He ruffled it a couple times, shrugging.

“I don’t know, this morning I guess.” It came out sounding more like a question, which did not reassure her at all. She pushed back the memory of Jack not eating for days at a time.

“Well, you should eat this now before it gets cold and gross.” He nudged the spoon with his pinky finger, but didn’t move to actually pick it up.

“You know, I’m not going to wither away or something,” he told her, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Kensi realized she been staring at him again, only now he was well aware of her presence.

“No,” she agreed. “But it’s not good for you to skip meals. You-“ she paused and sighed, rubbing her palms against her thighs. “You need to eat.”

Deeks looked like he might argue some more, but then the fight went out of him. He grabbed the spoon, scooping up a noodle and chicken heavy bite of soup.

“Are you going to watch me? Cause that would be kind of creepy.”

“No, I’m going to eat with you.” Kensi pulled a second, larger container from her bag, sighing as she pulled off the lid and sat down across from Deeks. He chuckled as she ate three bites in quick succession and tossed him a packet of crackers without looking. From the sound of it, he’d caught them.

“You’re going to spoil me,” he said a couple minutes later. Kensi was satisfied to see he was eating, if at an admittedly much slower rate than her. “First Chinese and now soup.”

“Don’t forget the cronut,” Kensi added around her spoon, a little surprised he’d brought up that night.

“Oh, I will never forget the cronut of love.” She snorted, nearly inhaling soup, and he handed her a napkin.

“Please tell me that you didn’t eat it.”

“Of course not. I’m having it lacquered so I can keep it by my bed for eternity,” Deeks said, grinning for the first time all day. It was nice to see.

“You are so weird,” Kensi said and if her voice was a little more fond than normal, neither of them mentioned it.

They ate in silence for a couple minutes until Deeks started to slow down, his bucket about half empty. He fiddled with his spoon, aimlessly stirring around bits of carrot and onion. His eyes flicked up to meet hers for a moment before he looked back down at the mini tsunami revolving in his soup cup.

“I’ll be ok. You know that, right?” Kensi stalled, eating another bite before she answered. He certainly looked more alert and marginally happier than half an hour ago.

“Yeah, of course you will.” She just hoped she wasn’t lying to both of them.

#densimber 2020 #densimber 4.0 #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #angst #densimber day 18 #ncis la fanfiction #by ejzah

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years ago

Text

Banished (Part 47)

~Banished Master~

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 11K (heh... how long does this take y’all to read, I stg)

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x02 of the 100, Heavy lies the Crown*

Bold Italics are Trig

Previously...

As for Praimfaya, its already making its way across the globe. A couple, man and woman crossing the desert in Europe, found it out the hard way. Their bodies were covered in burns, as they tried to find sanctuary. The man collapsed, his partner falling with him as she panted, trying to get him to respond to her but he wouldn’t answer. She let out a sob, barely able to make a sound from her dried throat. At an odd sound, she pulled herself up, trudging atop a sand dune to look upon pyramids.

But along with the structures a wave of radiation came upon her. She let out a scream as the radiation took her over, her skin burning off as she fell to her knees and her body was swept away.

6 months, starting now.

ALIE’s chip had made its way from Polis before you managed to destroy her. One victim, Ilian, living with his family on a farm, introduced a new level of pain to his family. He wasn’t in control of himself, ALIE in his head and working him like another one of her puppets. His mother sat tied, tired and bleeding against the sheep’s corral, her arms drawn apart like she was on a cross. Her ragged breathing was worsened as she looked up to Ilian approaching her.

She tried to speak. “Demon…” She muttered as her voice tore through her throat. “Where’s my son?”

Ilian paid no mind to her question as he held out a chip for her, barely a smile on his face to offer comfort. “Take it mother.” The woman’s cried out as Ilian pulled the chip away and kept it in his fist. He left his mother, heading to a boy, his brother, kneeling as his mind explored the City of Light. Ilian’s mother begged him, pleading for him to spare the life of his brother, but ALIE wouldn’t allow it. A knife was pressed to the boy’s throat by Ilian’s hand. “I’ll stop when you take the key.”

ALIE stood next to him, watching the scene carefully. “Do it. She’ll break.” Without another plead, Ilian cut his brother’s throat, gasps for air and one last breath came from the brother before he fell to the ground.

His mother cried out for the loss of her family. “He’s with father in the City of Light.” Ilian assured her as she looked to her husband, his life taken just minutes ago much like his sons had. “Take it mother.”

Another refusal.

ALIE had one last trick up her AI sleeve. “Put the knife to your own throat.” Ilian followed her instructions, his mother starting to thrash about as she begged for Ilian to lower the knife. Just before ALIE was to tell Ilian to slice his throat, she was distracted. “Y/N. Don’t.” She flickered away, leaving Ilian standing there, waiting for a command. The moments passed, his face stoic as his mother tried to get him to come back.

“You don’t ease pain. You overcome it. And we always will.” Without a moment’s hesitation, you grabbed the kill switch, pulling it and ending it all. No more ALIE.

Ilian let out a gasp as the knife was pulled from his throat, his heart racing at the thought of what might’ve happened. He looked down at the blade, his brother and fathers blood stained the metal as he looked to his mother, her head falling to the side as he rushed over.

“Mother!” He yelled and used the knife to cut her bonds. Her eyelids felt heavy, too much of her strength been used for sobbing and she barely had any left to live. “Help!” Ilian screamed. “Help!” He’s screams were for naught as the only ones around were his family, his brother and father both lying dead in their field and his mother joining them slowly.

“Ilian.” His mother mumbled, placing a hand on his cheek to pull his face to look down. “Avenge me.”

Ilian cried as his mother took her last breath and he pulled her into his chest, kissing her forehead as tears fell down his face. He tried to hold himself, losing his entire family broke him and he let it out, his scream ringing through the air as he clutched the useless key, vowing revenge on those who brought the City of Light to them: Skaikru.

In Polis, a week after ALIE’s demise, Kane and Abby were enjoying the simple things. They laid in bed together, post coital bliss etched on their faces as they panted.

“You are a terrible influence.” Abby whispered to Kane, moving her head to look at the man next to her. She rolled on top of him, her fingers tracing over his bare chest. “Roan is expecting me.” Kane nodded and Abby kissed him before grabbing her shirt and throwing it on. He watched with a smile as a different form of happiness than he felt 5 minutes ago took over his body. Abby removed her wedding ring from where she placed it for safe keeping, hesitating while holding the band that tied her to her deceased husband.

“Abby.” Kane whispered, putting his arms around her shoulders. She leaned back against his body. “Jake is a part of you.” He reminded her, taking the necklace from her hands and putting it back around her neck where it belonged. They smiled at each other, Abby leaning over to give him one last kiss before she had to leave. “Go. The King’s waiting but be careful. The tower’s safe, but we’re in dangerous ground here.” Abby nodded, pushing some of Kane’s hair out of his face before leaving the room to attend to Roan.

On the ground, outside the tower, a group of Trishanakru men sat together around a table, Ilian sat with them, his face stone as he stared at the wood in front of him. “The king protects Skaikru. Why?” He asked the ambassador next to him, Rafel.

“Because he is their puppet, Ilian.” Rafel told Ilian, getting the boy to turn his head and listen. “And anyone who protects the people who did this are as guilty as they are. Roan of Azgeda will hear me. As your ambassador, I have the right to challenge him. Single Combat.”

Octavia stood hidden in the shadows, listening as Rafel promising revenge on Skaikru and the king.

“I want justice, Skaikru did this, not the king.” Ilian told him, his jaw clenching in disgust at the mention of Skaikru.

“Do you want revenge for your family? When Trishanakru controls Polis, you will have it.” Rafel held a cup up in cheers, Ilian and the other men slowly following. “I promise when the King’s head falls, Skaikru falls with it.”

The doors to the throne room opened and Roan was led inside, his head picking up as he looked upon the throne and Echo standing to the side.

“Welcome to your throne room, my King.” She greeted. Roan didn’t say anything, walking past her as he looked about the room. “Now since the lift’s been repaired, I’ve doubled the guards on every floor.”

“Expecting trouble?” Roan stopped her, raising a brow.

Echo sighed. “I trust only Azgeda. Your mother taught me that, the people loved her for it.”

Roan stood in front the throne and turned to face the spy. “Our people feared her.”

“Because she was fierce and ambitious.”

Slowly taking a seat, Roan shook his head. “My mother’s ambition and her disregard for Lexa’s alliance got her killed.”

“If I may, why do you insist on ruling as Lexa did if its not the best for our people?” Echo asked. Roan hesitated. He couldn’t tell her of the world’s destruction, who knows what a spy would do with that information. “At least tell me there’s a reason.”

He didn’t get a response formed before the door to throne room opened and Kane and Octavia pushed themselves inside. “Forgive the intrusion, your highness. May we have a word?” Kane asked, glancing to Echo who narrowed her eyes. “Privately.”

“You can wait, just like all the other ambassadors.” She spat at Kane.

“Echo.” Roan caught her attention. “Leave us.” She spun around to look at him, confused as to why Skaikru would be given the special treatment. “Please.” She followed the order of her king, leaving Kane and Octavia alone with Roan.

“You were right to be concerned about Trishanakru.” Kane told him once the room was cleared. “Rafel is gonna challenge for your control.”

“Bold move for a new ambassador.” Roan pointed out, knowing Trishanakru isn’t fond of him as King. “Let him come.”

“With respect, you’re still recovering.”

“The law says you can choose someone to fight in your place.”

“No.” Roan shot Octavia’s idea down. “The clans would never accept someone who hides behind the law or someone else’s blade.”

“You’ll lose.” Octavia said simply, gesturing to the wound. “Lexa kicked your ass without a bullet hole in your chest.”

“We should cancel the gathering.” Kane stepped in, sending a look of disapproval to Octavia. “Delay it until you’re strong enough.”

“No.” Roan objected, leaving the duo to silently bicker as he walked away. “Letting the clans have a voice keeps the peace here. Azgeda holds this city through force alone, and the flame won’t keep the clans at bay forever.” He sat into the throne, showing his power over the Skaikru ambassadors. “If they unite against us, we could lose, and if we lose-“

“They come for Skaikru.” Octavia finished Kane gulped quietly.

“And the radiation will come for us all.”

Kane shook his head. “No one has to die. The point of our arrangement is to give us time to find a solution that will save everyone.”

“And how is that solution coming?”

“We’re working on it.” Kane assured him, having no clue of your advancements towards a proper solution. “In the meantime, I’m here to keep you in power. Let me talk to the ambassador.”

“Go ahead. Talk.” Roan allowed Kane. Kane turned around, beginning to walk towards the door before Roan’s voice stopped him. “But if you fail, I’ll have no choice but to fight.” Kane hesitated before nodding, sparing Octavia a look before leaving and heading to the Trishanakru ambassador.

Things in Arkadia weren’t going as well as you hoped. You, Bellamy, Raven, Clarke, and Monty were held up in a room, racking your brains to come up with a solution. You leaned against the window, staring at the falling rain, thunder and lightning accompanying it. It was hard to believe in a few months, this very rain could kill you.

“We’ve been at this for two days. There has to be something we’re not thinking of.” Bellamy groaned, moving from the drawing board over to you. You hadn’t pulled yourself away from the window for almost twenty minutes. He’d be more worried if he didn’t know how stressful this was. Bellamy leaned against the wall and you could see him from the corner of your eye, but you made no indication. He sighed, running a hand over his face. “What if we could reach the nearest nuclear reactor?”

Raven scoffed at his idea. “I told you the meltdown started months ago. There’s no magic button to turn them off. Today isn’t the black rain but it will be soon.” Clarke looked to the window, Bellamy and you perched in front of it. She caught Bellamy’s eyes before looking at you, your eyes unmoving from the rain. Water dripped in through the seals as Monty glanced to the ceiling. “That’s why we need to focus on riding out the radiation, finding someplace safe and big enough for all 500 of us.”

Her words brought you out of your rain watching and you narrowed your eyes to her. “And what about everyone else? I made a promise to Roan. We save everyone.”

“That’s why we need to tell everyone!” Raven stressed as she took a step closer to you, Bellamy and Clarke, trying to get her point across. “Crowdsource it. The grounders might know if there’s another Mount Weather out there.”

Bellamy looked to you, his voice softer than before as he watched you lean back on the window, tilting your head upon it. “You think they’d tell us?” He asks you, knowing that if they grounders knew anything, you’d be the one who’d be aware.

“I doubt it. We tell them that they’re dead if we don’t figure this out then the coalition is over, Roan falls and we’ll be dealing with grounders at our gate.” You told them all, firmly believing destruction will only come from crowdsourcing.

“Then just tell our people.” Raven argued. “I need more minds on this problem.” You held your head in your hands, hiding a yawn as you rubbed from your eyes to your temples. “On the ark, people volunteered for the culling because they were told the truth and given a choice.” Monty turned around, bracing himself against the table as he watched water drop into a bucket he placed earlier. Raven turned to Clarke. “A choice your dad died for.”

Clarke furrowed her brows and clenched her jaw. “You think I’ve forgotten that?” She spat.

“Okay, we’ll tell everybody the truth,” Bellamy broke the tension between the two girls. “as soon as we find a viable solution. Without it, it’ll cause a panic.”

“That’s it!” Monty yelled out as everyone turned to him, you even pushing yourself into the group as Monty spoke. “Alpha station survived in space for 97 years through elevated radiation levels and extreme temperature fluctuations. Sound familiar?” He asked you all rhetorically. “All we have to do is patch up the ship.”

A silence fell around the group as Bellamy and you exchanged a glance. “What are you saying?” you asked Monty, wanting to make sure you were understanding what he was getting at.

He looked to you, a small smile making way on his face. “I’m saying, we’re standing in our viable solution.” You all looked around the room, your viable solution sounding more and more better as each moment passed.

“Alright then.” Raven grinned, nodding to Monty. “Let’s get to work.” They started on what was needed, making a list of things to fix as you sighed in relief, moving back to look out the window.

You were going to do this. This was going to work.

“Hey.” Bellamy whispered as he joined you at the window, much closer than he was before. You didn’t mind though, feeling him glance at you. Bellamy didn’t have to look long to notice the bags under your eyes and the way your shoulders drooped. “When was the last time you had slept?”

You chuckled under your breath, looking at him with a smile. “I think I got a few minutes in last night.” You said honestly. You barely have gotten more than a few hours since that day you went in the City of Light, the stress of everything piling on your plate just kept you up and as much as you tried, you couldn’t sleep for long.

“Y/N.”

You shook your head at Bellamy, knowing the talk about needing to sleep was coming. “I’m fine, I really am. We have our solution. Let’s just make sure it works, then I’ll sleep.” He looked just as tired as you when you took a second to study his features. “Besides Bellamy, you look like you need it just as much as I do.”

“How about, we both get some shut eye.” You both glanced back, seeing Monty and Raven working as Clarke stood next to them, watching over their work and providing a voice on occasion.

“I think we’re supposed to be helping.” You told him, bumping his shoulder with yours. He frowned as you tried to hide another yawn.

“Y/N-“

“Get some sleep.” Monty’s voice called over to you and Bellamy. You both turned, seeing the three of them watching you with knowing smiles. “You both need it.”

Bellamy looked at you, raising a brow as you rolled your eyes. “You sure you don’t need our help?” You asked, hating that you were leaving them to all the work.

Raven nodded. “We’re sure. You’re no use to us tomorrow if you pass out from sleep exhaustion.”

“Tomorrow?” Bellamy questioned.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Monty nodded. “We need a working hydro-generator to store water and the only working hydro-generator is in Farm Station.”

“And that’s where Bellamy and I come in?” You understood. Farm Station landed in Ice Nation territory, getting there without running into said Ice Nation is a mission all on its own. You needed to be awake, not worrying about whether you had enough strength to aim your bow. You bit your lip, to try not to yawn, giving up when it proved a struggle. “Fine. Sleep it is.” You relented.

Bellamy smiled when you gave in, both of you saying goodnight to your friends before leaving. The halls were quiet, most Arkers fast asleep as you headed to your room. “You think this is going to work?” You asked Bellamy.

He didn’t say anything before sighing. “Monty and Raven know what they’re doing.”

You stopped walking, grabbing his hand to get him to join you. “But do you think this is going to work?” You looked into his eyes. Bellamy didn’t know what to say. You wanted to know if he thought there was a chance you’d all survive. He didn’t say anything though, and you got your answer. He didn’t know. You looked down the hall, seeing your door as you took a breath. “Goodnight Bellamy.” You whispered, letting go of his hand. Bellamy looked down to his hand, immediately feeling the loss of your touch before looking up and seeing you walk away.

“Goodnight Y/N.” he mumbled after you, staying in that spot as you disappeared behind the door. He half contemplated turning back to help the others, content with getting you to sleep, but you wanted him to sleep too. It was only fair. He headed straight to his room, groaning at the sight of his bed. He didn’t bother turning the light on as he pulled his shirt off and fell onto the mattress to try and get some sleep.

You were exhausted as you laid in bed, barely bothering to change out of your jeans but putting a tank top on instead of the long sleeve shirt and jacket you wore. You could hear the rain outside your window, the constant pounding slowly lulling you to sleep.

Your eyes flickered closed in the darkness, and the rain started to disappear, the sound instead replaced by a faint whispering.

“Y/N…” it said quietly. You stirred in your sleep, hearing it again. “Y/N…” Its breathy voice repeated in your head, getting louder and louder until it was screaming. “Skaikiler!”

You bolted awake, throwing yourself to sit up as your breathing become frantic and heavy. You turned your bed lamp on, glancing around the room for the cause of the voice. Your room was empty, you were completely alone and the only sound you could hear was the rain once again.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, trying to calm yourself. The voice was gone, and you tried to think back on it, but it didn’t sound like anyone you knew before. You tried to ignore it, turning off the light and burying yourself in the blanket, but you couldn’t close your eyes, the thought that the voice would return was unsettling. You groaned, throwing your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing your jacket. You covered yourself before walking out of your room, your door slamming behind you as you froze.

You knew you needed to sleep, Bellamy told you that much. You’d go outside for a breather, but it was raining, and raining and tired doesn’t usually make for a great mission the next day. You started walking, your feet taking you wherever they wanted and soon enough you ended at Bellamy’s door. If he was asleep, knocking on the door might be mean, he did need sleep too. Before you could even consider another option, you were knocking. You scolded yourself, hoping Bellamy wasn’t in there sleeping.

Bellamy was struggling to get to sleep as well, every time he tried his mind wanders, often coming to you. He tried to empty his mind, but it was no use, no matter what his thoughts remained. The knock on his door made him awake fully, not having expected anyone to come this late at night. He assumed it was Clarke to tell them they needed him for something. He groaned, pushing himself off his bed, turning on his lamp on the way up. His feet padded silently against the ground as he opened the door, not expecting to see you on the other side.

Your eyes were wide as the door was pulled open, a shirtless Bellamy in front of you as you looked away, feeling like you shouldn’t have just checked him out. When you finally looked back at him, you thanked that he hadn’t caught you, a yawn escaping him. “Y/N?”

“Sorry. I uh…” You stopped yourself. What were you doing here?

“You couldn’t sleep either?” He asked as you shook your head, happy to know it wasn’t just you. Although something tells you that he didn’t have voices in his head. “Come in.” He nodded towards his bed and stepped aside, letting you into his room. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as Bellamy fell back into bed. He looked at you, raising a brow. “Come on, you still need to get some sleep.” You laughed, chewing on your lip and walking over to the bed. You were about to climb in before you remembered your jacket, pausing and turning off the light before pulling your jacket off. Bellamy didn’t say anything, watching your figure in the dark before you started to climb in. You laid on your side, facing away from Bellamy. You could feel him behind you, you knew he was staring at the back of your head.

He scooted closer to you, you doing the same and moving backwards until his body pressed against yours, more warmth coming from his chest than a blanket ever could’ve provided. His arm began to encircle your waist before slowly pulling away. Bellamy wasn’t sure if it was welcomed, he didn’t know if he already over stepped with sharing a bed. You didn’t say anything and grabbed Bellamy’s hand, bringing his arm back around your stomach. He grinned and pulled you even closer. Suddenly his thoughts stopped taking over his brain, the feeling of you next to him was enough for Bellamy to fall asleep comfortably. You fell asleep too not long after, hearing Bellamy’s breathing in your ear and the voice didn’t make another appearance that night.

Morning came faster than you thought as the morning sun came though Bellamy’s window. You moved in your sleep, now laying on Bellamy’s chest with his arms around you. You didn’t know if Bellamy was awake, picking your head up and placing your chin on his chest. He woke up a few minutes ago, watching you sleep peacefully. You didn’t look nearly as tired as you had last night, the extra hours you had spent with Bellamy asleep doing you both favors. You gave him a lazy smile, receiving one in return from him.

“Morning.” He spoke, his voice deeper and gravelly in the morning, obvious he slept well.

“Morning.” You whispered, stretching out your legs. They hit Bellamy’s and neither of you stopped them from getting tangled together. “How long were we asleep for?” you asked, hearing the days chatter begin outside Bellamy’s room.

Bellamy shrugged, not pulling his eyes off you. His eyes moved down from your face, seeing the scars on your body. There was a familiarity in this moment, the last time you and Bellamy woke like this you had just had sex for the first time. He left you for Pike. He wasn’t going to do that this time.

You caught his eyes moving to your scar on your shoulder, that one from the panther as you shifted. You reached over for your jacket, thrown on his bedside table and pulled it on. When you broke the comfort between you two, Bellamy was confused and wanting to stay a little longer with you, but when you grabbed your jacket, he knew what was wrong.

“Hey.” He said, pushing himself up to sit against the wall. You paused and looked him before slowly pulling your jacket the rest of the way on. “You don’t have to hide them from me.” He told you, reaching out to grab your hand. You swallowed, pulling your hand away before he could reach. He furrowed his brows. “Y/N?”

“It’s not you.” You admitted, refusing to look at him.

He waited for you to go on, but you hadn’t said more. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, offering a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“No. Something’s on your mind, the same something that made you grab your jacket.” He reached for your hand once more, this time you allowed him to grab it. “Talk to me.”

You took a second, trying to find the words. “It’s dumb. I’ve lived with my scars for years, but when I was in the City of Light…” you stopped yourself, letting your eyes closed as you thought back to the City, staring at yourself in the building once again. Your scars were gone, you looked… normal. You opened your eyes again, blinking away the thoughts as you realized Bellamy had gotten closer, an arm pulled around your back as you both sat with your legs off the edge of the bed. “They weren’t there.” You blurted out.

Was it wrong to want to look like that again?

“I told you it’s dumb. Especially with everything that’s going on. My problems are-“

“Important.” Bellamy cut you off. He squeezed your hand. “Your problems are important Y/N and I promise you, we’ll get through this. We’ll survive.”

You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks heat up as he rubbed your back. “I’m holding you to that.” You both chuckled. “We should probably get going before someone files a missing people report.” You joked as Bellamy chuckled and both of you slowly got out of the bed.

Checking in with Clarke, Raven and Monty, they explained the plan of retrieving the hydro-generator, you and Bellamy bringing along a group, specifically Monty, Harper, Miller, Bryan, and you two. It was yours and Bellamy’s job to bring Miller and Bryan up too speed and after a good 10 minutes, you were getting somewhere.

“Raven says we can get it sealed in a month.” Bellamy told them, your head nodding as he spoke. “The Ark is our Ark.”

“I get it.” Miller stopped him, processing the plan. “So, we freeze dry the meat until we can grow our own food, oxygen scrubbers, but how do we store enough water for 500 people?”

Bellamy looked to you, offering you the next explanation. “We don’t.” you took over. “That’s why we’re heading to Farm Station.”

Miller scoffed and knotted his brows. “Why the hell would we do that? That’s in Ice Nation, you know that better than anyone.”

Bryan groaned in pain as he stood up, the three of you looking at him in concern. “You just said it. We need a hydro-generator and Farm Station has one for crops.”

“Think you can get us there?” Bellamy asked Bryan before Miller interrupted.

“No way. Find another machine.”

“There aren’t any, Miller. Without it we’d barely, last a year. 5 would be impossible.” You told him, running a hand over your face. Miller considered it, looking in between you and Bellamy.

“Fine. I’m in, but Bryan stays here. His leg’s still healing.”

You looked at Bryan seeing him send a look to Miller before addressing Bellamy and you. “I’m in too.”

You knew he was only going because he wanted to prove he could, but that was only more dangerous. “Good. We leave in an hour.” Bellamy said as Miller scoffed, wondering why he even tries with his boyfriend. You followed Bellamy out of the room.

As soon as you both were gone, Miller grabbed Bryan’s attention. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah I do.” Bryan told him, shaking his head. “Since Octavia murdered Pike, I’m the only one left who knows where it is.”

“Why are you defending him? Pike was a dictator!”

“He was elected chancellor, and if you don’t care about that, he kept me alive for three months.”

“Then why did you help us turn him over to the grounders?”

Bryan stared at Miller; the answer obvious in Bryan’s head. “To save you, Nate.”

Miller didn’t say anything, his arguments falling short knowing Bryan sacrificed Pike because he loved Miller. Miller pulled him in for a long loving hug, whispering sorry in his ear.

Monty went looking for his best friend, checking his room, the dining hall and the hangar bay before walking outside, the sound of pitchy singing coming from the middle of the camp. Monty grew confused, following the sound before seeing Jasper in the shower, scrubbing his body and singing along to the song stark naked in the camp, his only covering being a curtain surrounded the shower. Monty put his hands on his hips, watching his friend from afar before coming forward.

“Woah.” Monty said as he got closer, discovering Jasper’s naked body with a hand placed to hide Jasper. “Nice cap.” Monty called out, his hand still up and remaining up until Jasper was wearing clothes again. “You know you’re wasting our drinking water, right?”

Jasper just chuckled, continuing to use the loofah on his body. “You know we’re all going to die in 6 months, right?” he retorted, running the water over his face.

“Not if we find what we’re looking for today.” Monty tried to sound confident, knowing that finding the hydro-generator was huge.

Jasper scoffed, continuing on with his shower. “Oh please. Tell me about another pointless task Clarke has roped you into doing. Or better yet, don’t. I don’t want to keep anymore of her secrets.”

“We’re going back to Farm Station.” Monty moved on. “Why don’t you come with us.”

Jasper shook his head and turned off the water. “Monty.” He said and held his hands out. “Look at me.”

Monty turned away, using his hand once again to not see Jasper’s nakedness. “I’m really trying not to.”

“I’m fine. I’m having fun.” When Monty interrupted him, Jasper sighed. “I’m not going to kill myself.” He assured his best friend. “What’s the point?” He grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his body and smirked. “But if you want to cheer me up, while you’re at Farm Station, get that weed we stashed? Behind the wall of your old room?” He smiled at Monty, holding up his hand. “Come on. Don’t leave me hanging!”

Monty held up his own hand, both of them bringing their other hands up to high five themselves, their own special high five. Monty tried to hide his own smile as he pointed at Jasper and walked away, headed to meet you all at the hangar bay.

“Hey, you want a hug?” Jasper called out jokingly as Monty chuckled.

You lifted up a backpack, tossing it to Miller who put it in the rover, getting ready for your Ice Nation trip. You hoped that it would be a clean trip, but things don’t usually go your way.

“Battery’s full.” Bellamy said and you turned around to see Clarke walking over. “If we’re lucky, we won’t have to stop to discharge.”

Clarke nodded, pulling out Roan’s Ice Nation seal. “If Roan’s seal works the way it’s supposed to, we’ll be even luckier.” She muttered and handed it over to Bellamy. “If you get in trouble, just show this.”

You tapped Miller’s leg, telling him you’re going over as he nodded. “You can still come with us.” You told Clarke who shook her head.

“I can’t. Arkadia is just plan B. We need to find a solution that saves both us and the grounders.” You knew she was right. You promised Roan his people would be safe and protecting just your people wasn’t the way to do that.

“We save who we can save today.” Bellamy said, looking more at you than Clarke. He knew if anything went wrong for the grounders, you’d blame yourself. You were the one who made a promise to Roan.

“We should get going.” You reminded them. Bellamy nodded telling the others to load up.

“Hey, be careful, okay?” You nodded at Clarke’s words before heading to the rover, sending patting the side of it before climbing into the front seat. Bellamy joined you, sliding into the front seat and away to Ice Nation you went.

Bellamy parked far from the fallen ship, up on the hill as you all clambered out of the rover. “This is as far as we can get.” He called out as everyone approached the ledge, looking out at Farm Station. “From here we go on foot.”

“We get the hydro-generator and get out.” Miller instructed. “We don’t want to stay any longer than we need.” The ship was daunting, just like Alpha Station but covered in snow. Miller looked into his binoculars, his face falling instantly. “Guys, we have a problem.” Bellamy brought his gun up, looking into the scope as you all crouched down.

“What is it?” you asked, not able to see that far without help.

“The barn’s not empty.” Miller muttered over to you as your head dropped. Of course, it’s not empty, that would make this a million times easier.

“They moved in.” Bryan spoke in disbelief. “If it’s the same guys who attacked us, with our guns, we could take them.”

“We’re not here to fight them.” You said looking down at the Station. “We need the machine, if we don’t then Ice Nation will be the least of our troubles.”

“Guys?”

You picked your head up, turning to see Harper with an arrow drawn to her back. You aimed your own bow as Ice Nation grounders came out from the trees, all aiming their weapons at you and your friends.

“Weapons down. Now.” Bellamy told you all as he lowered his gun, Monty and Harper following. You and Miller hesitated but ultimately listened, leaving Bryan with his gun up.

“Bryan now.” You told him, placing your hand on the barrel gently, the boy allowed you to bring his gun down, watching the woman in front of you stare at you.

Bellamy pulled out the seal, showing it to the woman. “King Roan of Azgeda sent us.” The woman took the seal out of Bellamy’s hands, looking it over. Bellamy and you exchanged glances, but once Bellamy was looking away, the woman used the seal, hitting Bellamy in the head with it.

“Bellamy!” you yelled as he hit the ground unconscious. You were by his side, turning him in your lap to see him unconscious. You brushed his hair out of the way, checking for any injuries.

“Take their weapons. Let’s introduce them to the chief.”

A bow was placed to your head, stopping your movements. “Get up.” A man said, nudging your head. You looked up at him, slowly moving Bellamy off your lap. He was staring to wake up, groaning as you shifted and stood up, raising your hands in the air.

The grounders tied everyone’s hands in front of them, leading you all into the Farm Station. You and Bellamy walked side by side, grounders grabbing your shoulders and shoving you and your friends to the ground. The seal was presented in front of you and Bellamy.

“Where did you get this?” The Ice Nation Chief asked Bellamy. You stayed quiet, glancing back at all your friends and seeing their equally pissed off and scared faces.

“King Roan. Skaikru and Azgeda are allies. He sent us to get a part of the ship, a machine.” Bellamy explained to him. The grounders obviously didn’t believe him as the Chief turned to the woman who knocked Bellamy out.

“King Roan hasn’t returned to Ice Nation in 3 years. The Banished Prince is not my king.” She told the Chief who pocketed the seal.

“You know Queen Nia is dead.” You spoke harshly. They looked at you, narrowing their eyes. “That ‘Banished Prince’ is the rightful ruler of Ice Nation. Whether you like it or not.” The chief pulled out his knife, making you realize no matter what you said about Roan being king, it wouldn’t be enough. “Look, if we were coming to take this place back, we’d of brought more people. You know that.”

Bellamy watched you, only understanding bits of what you were saying. The Chief came to you with the knife, tucking it under your chin and pulling your head up. “Just because you speak our language, doesn’t make you one of us, Skaikiler.”

Why did they always assume you wanted to be like one of them?

“Let’s get this over with, Davika.” The chief spoke to the woman before yanking you to your feet, cutting the rope binding your hands before doing the same to Bellamy.

“Release them.” He told his people who listened, all cutting your friends loose. Bellamy stepped closer to you, looking at you to make sure you were fine, and you nodded. “Where is this machine for the king?”

At Arkadia, Raven managed to get a few people to help with the ships repair, telling them that they need to get the ship ready for the winter, not for the worlds end. She sent the workers on their way. She looked up, seeing Clarke walking her way and shook her head. “There is so much work to do and I get a total of 5 volunteers to help me?”

“It’s a start.”

“I can’t run this repair on my own Clarke!” She tried not to yell and alert the others. “Even if I had complete mobility, or even if Sinclair was still alive.” Her voice dropped at the mention of her mentor. “Who the hell am I to give them orders? I’m not the chief engineer.”

“And I’m not the chancellor.” Clarke shook her head slowly, shrugging her shoulders. “Yet, here we are. For what it’s worth, there’s nobody I trust more to do this than you.” Raven looked up, taking in Clarke’s words. “As soon as Bellamy and Y/N get back with the machine, we go public and get you the help you need.”

“Am I interrupting?” Jaha spoke to the girls as they turned around, seeing the man join in on their conversation. They looked at each other before Jaha spoke up again. “I used to be an engineer. I supervised the redesign of sector 5.”

“And how many people died in sector 5 during the culling when you sucked the air out of their lungs?”

“42.” Jaha said quickly, not taking Raven’s spite. “Would you like to know their names?” Raven scoffed and stormed off, leaving Jaha and Clarke to talk before Clarke stopped her.

“Raven, we could use the help.” She reminded the engineer who stopped herself, turning around with crossed arms.

“You know he made me cut my wrists to force your mom to take the chip, right?” Raven recapped. “He searched for the City of Light. He brought ALIE here. He showed her how to overcome free will.”

“Yes.” Jaha knew what he had done. “Those are my sins and I have to live with them.”

Raven scoffed. “You wanna help? Go sort the scraps.” Jaha nodded as Raven finished her storming off, glancing at Clarke before following the Reyes instruction.

The chief led you through the halls of the Farm Station in a line. “Since when does a grounder know how to power on a spaceship?” Monty pointed out as you overheard. He had a point, grounders wouldn’t know that.

“No talking.” Dakiva said as she shoved Monty forward on her order. You were stopped at the end of the hallway, the door leading into the engine room closed as you waited. Bellamy reached behind himself for your hand and you took a step forward, hiding your joined hands between your bodies.

The door was opened, and you were led inside. “Slaves!” The chief shouted. “Eyes down.”

Your breath was caught, staring out amongst the Ice Nation’s slaves. They were Farm Station.

“What is this?” You muttered to the Chief who just sent you a glare.

“Do what you came here to do.” Your eyes landed on a little girl, her face covered in grime and you started forwards, wanting to check on her but Bellamy stopped you, shaking his head. You looked back at her, her eyes locking on yours.

He was going to leave them? He couldn’t just leave them. There were kids here! Teenagers! They don’t deserve this.

Monty pointed out the generator for all of you and Chief began bringing you up. The stairs.

“Riley?” Bryan’s voice caused you to turn around, seeing him look at a ‘slave’ down the line. Riley turned back around, his back to Bryan as Bryan approached him. “Riley! We thought you were dead.”

“Bryan, don’t!” Bellamy yelled as the two of you rushed back down the stairs. The chief pushed himself between Bryan and Riley and you grabbed Bryan, stepping in front of him as Bellamy stood next to you.

“Only the machine. The rest is ours.” Their chief told you. You felt Bryan move from behind you as you stopped him, staring down the Chief before Bellamy pulled your elbow and you all went for the machine.

Roan grunted as he swung at Echo with his sword, dodging swings of her own as they sparred. He slid on the ground to avoid a strike, rising to his feet and kicking her knee out. But when he raised his arm in the air to swing down at her one final time, he groaned out in pain, his bullet wound stopping him from delivering the blow. He leaned forward, supporting himself on the sword before Echo kicked the sword out and held hers against his neck.

“Damn it.” He groaned, pushing Echo away.

Abby called out from the side of the room, stepping forwards. “Let me take a look.” She pulled down Roan’s shirt, looking at the scarred skin. “It’s healing but you need more time.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Why did you accept this challenge? You’re a king, make your own rules.” Echo told Roan as she watched him pick up his sword, groaning as he bent over.

“I told you. I won’t be that kind of king.” She swung her sword, engaging in their match again until Roan strained his chest again. He moved his sword to his right hand, using that arm instead to attack back on Echo. Echo had the upper hand as she struck Roan in the shoulder, kicking his stomach and sending him the floor in pain. He clutched his injury, gasping as Echo stood over him.

“I would be honored to take your place in this fight.” She extended a hand to him, but Roan pushed himself up without the help.

“I will not run from this fight.”

“Echo’s right.” Abby said, putting her opinion in. “I didn’t save your life so you could tear yourself apart again.

Roan narrowed his eyes at the women. “Since when are you two on the same side? If you can’t help me, then why the hell are you still here?”

Abby didn’t say anything, instead choosing to leave like he wanted. “This fight can still be avoided.” Echo said once Abby was gone. “Protecting Skaikru gives the other clans an excuse to challenge you. Let me care of it. Let me do what your mother would’ve done.” She started her attack again as Roan ducked, yelling no to her. “Then please, tell me what Skaikiler could’ve offered you. What deal could she offer be worth losing the fate of your people?”

“A chance to survive the end of the world.” Roan finally told her. “That’s what they’re offering to us. Soon Praimfaya will come again and destroy everything. Skaikru is trying to stop it.”

Echo’s face fell. “My king, they’re lying to you. They’d say anything to save themselves.” Roan shook his head, wanting to believe his trust in you was rightfully placed. “Let me prove it to you. Send me to Arkadia.”

“Your only concern now should be helping me win. Once I do, you may go to Arkadia. Prove my trust in Y/N is deserved.”

Echo quirked her brow. “Y/N?” she questioned her kings use of your name.

Roan paused. “Skaikiler.” He corrected himself before swinging his sword, not letting Echo get another word in before they were sparring again.

Rafel and Ilian and their men sat around again, Rafel sharpening a knife as he spoke. “Once I have accused Roan of crimes against our people for protecting Skaikru, he’ll demand proof. Ilian will be out first witness.” At Rafel’s words, Ilian looked to him, seeing Kane and Octavia walk their way over Rafel’s shoulder.

He pushed himself out of his chair, the other men doing so as well. Ilian held his knife behind him. “Ambassador, may we speak in private? We know you’re planning on challenging King Roan.”

Everyone was watching, even those not previously involved in the conversation. “Leave us.” He told everyone. “Ilian, stay.” Kane and Ilian both took a seat, Octavia staying for Kane’s protection.

“I’d like to ask you to reconsider.” Kane started, using his kindest tone.

Rafel laughed in his face. “Ask? After everything your people have done, you expect diplomacy?”

“Skaikru is not your enemy.”

Ilian slammed his hand down on the table, removing it to the show the chip laying upon the surface. “Skaikru made me murder my entire family. I have no one left.”

Kane offered an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry for your loss, but the chip technology affected every clan. You blame Skaikru for the City of Light, but shouldn’t you credit us for destroying it as well? After everything we’ve suffered, why should we spill more blood?”

Rafel smirked as he looked towards the younger boy. “You see Ilian. The King can’t fight. Otherwise his minions wouldn’t be trying to stop us.”

Octavia stepped in, leaning forward and towering over Ilian. “If the King wasn’t hurt, do you really think this coward would give a crap about your family?”

“Since you landed here, your people have done nothing but rip our world apart!” Rafel shouted, stopping Octavia from saying the obvious truth. He looked to Kane with a scowl. “Reap what you sow, ambassador. The time of Skaikru is over.”

He walked off and Ilian stood up, grabbing the chip and following behind him. “Well.” Octavia frowned watching the two walk away. “That went well.” Kane scoffed, leaving as well as Octavia glared at Rafel, knowing what she had to do.

Clarke was struggling. Plan B was a great plan if the hydro-generator pulled through, but to save everyone like you promised Roan? That was seeming to be impossible. There were just too many people.

“Damn it!” Clarke yelled, swiping her work off the table and burying her head in her hands. She was trying to focus, really just clearing her head in hopes it helps, but she couldn’t as music started getting louder from somewhere in the ark.

She knotted her brows, taking a look at the population sheet she had before needing to find the source. She stormed around the ark, heading outside and seeing a mess of kids, all of them standing around, drinking, or kicking a ball. Clarke was stunned, walking through the masses and arriving at Jasper, hanging onto a rover with the music on the highest volume.

“Can we talk?” Clarke called up at him, getting the boys attention as he stopped singing along to the music.

“Sure.” Jasper told her, jumping on the rover and following her. “I’ve got about 6 months. What’s up?”

“I’m trying to make sure we get more than 6 months, which is why these people need to get back to work.”

“I didn’t force them to stop. I guess they think it’s the end of the day, not end of days.” He took a sip of his drink, Clarke shaking her head in disbelief.

“Don’t you want us to survive, Jasper?”

“No, I don’t want us to survive.” Jasper said simply. “I want us to live.”

“If we don’t repair the ship, none of us will get that chance.” Clarke spoke quieter, trying to get her point across.

“And what about free will? That’s why Y/N destroyed ALIE, right? So why don’t you tell them all the truth?” Jasper gestured to the people, his voice getting louder as Clarke shushed him. “Let them decide what they want to do with their last 6 months. What are you so afraid of?”

“We can’t just go to them with no solution. People will Panic.”

Jasper nodded and faked a laugh. “Spoken like the council that sent 100 kids to die on the ground.” He backed away from Clarke, talking a sip of his drink and singing along to the music, leaving Clarke figure out a solution by herself.

Moral at the Farm Station was down as you all worked on removing the hydro-generator. Well, Bellamy and you stood off to the side, while everyone else who knew what they were doing was working.

“We can’t just leave them.” Bryan muttered, the 6 of you keeping your voices quiet to not raise suspicion and have grounders overhear.

“We’re in the collation, Y/N do you think the King would free them?” Harper asked, glancing out of the corner of her eye.

You bit your lip, thinking about it. “Roan’s people don’t respect him, but it’s our best bet.”

“They’re right.” Bellamy agreed, stepping closer to the group. “We try diplomacy first. If that doesn’t work, we come with reinforcements for the slaves.” He looked at Bryan, knowing he disagreed with the plan that put his friend at risk. “After we take home the machine, right?” Everyone nodded their heads.

The little girl who you wanted to help earlier walked in between you and Bellamy carrying a pitcher of water. As soon as she passed you, she dropped a cloth onto the ground and kept walking. You looked around, trying not to get caught as you stepped on it moving it towards Bellamy to hide it.

“Bell, look down.” You whispered in his ear, pretending like you were helping with the machine. He looked at you in confusion before glancing to the ground, seeing you remove your foot and uncover the note. He didn’t waste a second to crouch down at pick it up, reading it quickly.

“They’re moving them tomorrow.” Bellamy read from the note and stood up, looking back to see you hide your worries.

“We can’t wait.” You told them. If you didn’t get these people out of here, who knows what would happen to them.

“Are there any other exits?” Bellamy asked.

Bryan shook his head. “No. It’s completely sealed. Came down from space in here because it’s the most secure room in the ship.

“It’s designed that way in case the hydrazine blew.” Monty added. Bellamy’s eyes widened.

“What?” You asked, trying to figure out if you missed something.

“We have a bomb.” He whispered, realization dawning on all your faces.

Miller was the first one to speak up, opposed to the idea. “The end of the world is coming, and you want to use our one chance of our people’s survival as a bomb?”

“Not all our people.” Bryan pointed out, glancing at his brother in disbelief. “Riley?”

“I vote take it home.” Miller argued with his boyfriend.

“No, we blow it up.”

“I’m with Bryan.” Harper agreed and sides were beginning to take place. “I know what it’s like to be locked up and afraid. You didn’t leave us in Mount Weather, and we can’t leave them here.”

“Can we build another machine?” You asked Monty, knowing soon a decision was going to come and despite the outcome, people will die.

“Are you kidding? The techs way too advanced.” Monty shot your idea down. You groaned quietly, trying to think of anything.

Bellamy grabbed your hand and squeezed before releasing it. “We have 6 months. You’re telling me Raven can’t figure out another way to make water?”

“Yes.” Monty pressed. You looked around slowly, hoping you all weren’t drawing eyes. Monty sighed. “Look I know you want to make up for the things you done, we all do, but we need to think big picture here. We’re talking about the human race. We need to get this machine back to Arkadia. It’s the only way.”

“It’s two-two, guys. Bellamy? Y/N?”

Your eyes fell on the little girl before you saw Bellamy looking at you. “There are kids here, Bellamy. She can’t be any older than I what I was. I can’t leave them.” Bellamy nodded, grabbing your hand once again and telling the group the plan to save them all.

As soon as the Hydro-generator was free, Monty, Bellamy, Harper, and Bellamy carried the hydro-generator out of the room. Each of them had a hand on it as you passed by the Farm Station people. They looked broken, everyone watching you all, but you kept your head down, looking up only as you passed by the girl once again.

The door closed as you exited walking behind everyone next to Bryan. You heard it shut before Miller lost his hold the generator. “Watch it Miller!” Bryan shouted ahead.

“Wait, wait! Just set it down here!” Monty instructed as the other three listened, letting the generator onto the floor. He bent down, activating the bomb as you and Bellamy locked eyes, preparing for the next few seconds. “Now!”

You turned to the grounder next to you, the same one who held a bow to your head earlier and threw your fist into his face, sending him to the floor in one swing. You were about to run before another came behind you, grabbing your fist to keep from you punching him but you threw your elbow up, hitting him in the nose and sending him backwards.

“Y/N!” Bellamy shouted as you looked up, seeing everyone run back into the other room. You jumped over the bomb, grabbing Bellamy’s hand as the bomb started ticking.

“Kill them!” Dakiva shouted as Bellamy and you grabbed the door, pushing it closed together.

The bomb exploded, taking out most of the ship except the room you were in. The Chief didn’t waste a second before coming after your friends and you, swinging his axe at Miller before Bellamy body checked him. The chief groaned out in pain as Bellamy and Miller started beating him together.

“Stop! Stop!” Bryan shouted as he pulled Miller off. You thought he wanted him to die, that was the plan. Harper kicked the man in the head, and you had to admit, it was a nice kick. “This isn’t your kill! This is Monty’s kill!”

Everyone fell silent, looking at Bryan. “What are you talking about?” Monty asked, stepping out from behind Harper.

“This is the man who killed your father.” You were all in shock. This was Monty’s kill.

He picked up the chief’s axe, holding it his hand as he tried to control his anger.

“Monty, you don’t have to do this.” Bellamy tried getting Monty to listen, but you grabbed his arm, pulling Bellamy back next to you.

Monty didn’t even look at him. “Yeah, I do.” He lifted the axe above his head, grunting in anger as he repeatedly drove the axe into the chains next to him, freeing the slaves. You were proud of him, he didn’t need to kill his father’s killer. Instead, he let Farm Station do it. They needed their revenge more than he did.

Clarke walked into Raven’s workshop, looking around for said engineer. “Raven?” She called out, not receiving any response from Raven, but from Jaha.

“Polyethylene silicon elastomers.” He said, pointing to the barrels next to him. “We don’t need that to survive winter or a grounder attack. What are we really preparing Alpha Station for?” Clarke didn’t say anything, unsure how to approach this. Jaha chuckled, tossing his tools down. “Heavy lies the crown.” He told her. “I know the burden of keeping a secret you think is going to destroy your people.”

“You locked me up.” She stopped him. “You floated my father.”

“Now you understand why. No leader starts out wanting to lie, imprison or execute their people. The decisions you face whittle you down piece by piece.”

Clarke didn’t want to admit it, but Jaha knew what he was talking about. “What do I do?” She asks, needing any advice.

“I’ll tell you what I told your mother after the culling. We make the best decisions that we can with the information that we have, then hope that there's a forgiving god.” Clarke listened, but she knew you all needed more than a forgiving god.

Abby stood by her window, looking down at the city of Polis as her door opened and in walked Kane.

“Can Roan fight?” He asked her, needing to know how much trouble they were in.

Abby shook her head. “It’s too soon.” Based on today’s events, Roan was in no condition to fight anyone.

Kane groaned, letting his head fall. “One simple task and I’m failing.”

Abby comforted him, caressing his cheek. “No. You’ll figure it out.” She assured him, but Kane saw past Abby’s confidence.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his turn to comfort him.

Abby shook her head, pausing before answering him. “There’s nothing more that I can do for Roan.”

Kane nodded as he understood. “You need to go back to Arkadia and Clarke.” It hurt him, but he knew Abby needed to leave. He caught sigh of her bare neck as he pushed the hair of his way, furrowing his brows. “Your necklace?” Jakes ring no longer sat upon Abby’s neck. Kane pulled Abby into him, kissing her goodbye as he held her.

Octavia walked in the dead of night wearing a black cloak to hide herself amongst the grounders. She took a look around her, making sure she wouldn’t be caught as she walked into Rafel’s home.

“It’s about time, pour the wine.” Rafel told her, unknown to who it really was in his house as he ate. When no wine was poured, he looked up surprised to see Octavia standing there. “What the hell do you want?”

“I’m here to ask you one last time to back down.”

He kept eating his food, picking it apart. “Are you trying to frighten me, little girl?”

Octavia walked around the table, coming closer to him. “If your problem is really with Skaikru, not Roan, challenge me instead.”

“You’re not worthy of my blade.” He laughed at her.

“I came here to change your mind.”

“You can’t. Trishanakru will have its justice.” Octavia picked up the long skinny dagger on the table, twisting it in her hand before forcing it through Rafel’s ear. Rafel’s speak was cut immediately, his head falling onto the table as he died.

“Long live the king.” She said and pulled the weapon out of his ear, cleaning up the blood on the dagger as well as the blood dripping from his ear, leaving no trace this was a murder. She pulled her hood back on, walking out of the deceased ambassador’s home.

The 13 clans met the next day, Rafel’s threat of a challenge looming over Kane and Roan’s head. Kane and the other ambassadors entered the throne room and Kane approached Roan right away. “Please, it’s not too late to cancel.”

“You failed.” Roan said as he sat upon the throne. “We do this Azgeda’s way. Single Combat. Take your seat, ambassador.” Kane wanted to say more but decided against it, moving back into his seat. Roan looked around the room, his eyes falling upon an empty seat for the ambassador. “Where is Rafel kom Trishanakru?” No one answered but the door opened to Echo, marching to Roan and whispering in his ear. He nodded as she stepped away. Roan glanced at a confused Kane before standing up. “The Ambassador was found dead this morning.” Gasps went around the room as Roan went on. “His heart stopped.” Everyone bowed their heads along with Roan. “May the spirits of the commanders guide him safely home.” Kane looked towards Octavia, not needing much to go on to know she killed Rafel. “Let us begin.”

Ilian turned his head, looking to Octavia behind him. “You going to kill me, too?” He asked her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Octavia played dumb, making Ilian mad as he turned back face front. She extended an arm forward, putting it on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your family.” She told him before pulling away and leaving the clan meeting.

The ride back to Arkadia was rough, the back of the rover filled to the brim with people as you sat up front with Bellamy and bags on your lap. Bellamy came to a stop as you all climbed out, not saying a word about the mission. Miller and Bryan were already out when you managed, overhearing a bit of their conversation of whether or not Miller thought it was worth saving them. You moved around to the back of the rover, helping people alongside Bellamy. Seeing Alpha Station was a shock to them, they probably hadn’t seen much being in chains.

Bellamy and you helped Riley down, watching his hip as he clutched it in pain. “Riley?” Clarke called out as she approached, confused as to where all these people were coming from.

“Clarke.” Riley whispered before they hugged.

“I can’t believe you’re alive.” She told him, pulling away to look at him.

“I am now.” He turned around, both of them watching you and Bellamy help the little girl and a woman out of the rover.

The little girl clutched the back of Bellamy’s jacket after he helped her down. “Get Riley and the others to the med bay. Tell them we’ll take them to their villages in the morning.” Bellamy told Monty. He started to lead the girl to Riley who stuck out his hand, but she pulled away and ran to you.

You gasped in surprise as she wrapped her arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. You stood there, unsure as what to do before slowly hugging her back. The look of shock on your face remained when she pulled away, letting Riley lead her away.

You hadn’t seen Raven approach, too caught up in your hug before she spoke. “Where is it?” She questioned, not seeing the hydro-generator in the rover.

“We didn’t get the machine.” Bellamy told her, sparing you a glance.

“It didn’t survive the landing?”

“No, it did.” You jumped in. “But we had a choice. Bring the machine or save them.”

“Oh, we are so screwed.” Raven muttered shaking her head.

“We have time. We’ll figure it out, but I’m not sacrificing any more innocent lives.” Bellamy defended himself.

“You just did.”

“I made the call, and I’ll live with it.

Raven scoffed. “Yeah, and you’re not the only one who has to live with your call, as usual.”

You stepped up, tired of this conversation. “Stop! Both of you! You weren’t there. This wasn’t just Bellamy’s call, it mine too. Do you wanna look that kid in the eyes? Go tell Riley that you think we should’ve left them for dead.” You pointed off in the direction Riley and the girl left.

The three of them looking at you in shock as Clarke nodded. “Ok.” She turned to Raven, her voice lowering. “How many of us will the ship sustain without a hydro-generator?” You felt Bellamy’s hand on your back as Raven answered, telling her not more than a hundred. You all sighed, looking out at the people you and Bellamy saved and the people that needed to be saved. “What am I supposed to tell the people now?”

“How about the truth?” Raven suggested, unsure as to why this was even a question. “Crowdsource it, like we talked about.”

Clarke looked to you and you nodded. “Call for a general meeting.” She told Raven who took off. You and Bellamy stayed back with her.

“What are you going to do?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke paused, thinking back on the advice Jaha gave her. “Hope that there’s a forgiving god.”

The meeting was started as soon as everyone was rounded up, Clarke stepping up to address everyone as you stood off to the side with Bellamy and Raven.

Clarke explained everything, all about what ALIE showed you and everything about Praimfaya. “So now you know the truth.” She told them. “I know you’re afraid. I know you’re angry, but when Y/N shut down ALIE, she knew there would a way to get through this together.” Heads turned to look at you, but you didn’t stare back, choosing instead to focus on Clarke’s speech. “Alpha Station is that way. Every single one of us will survive on this ship.”

Your mouth fell open a little. “She didn’t just…” you whispered, looking at Bellamy who nodded. You should’ve known Clarke wouldn’t tell the truth.

She finished up her speech, asking for volunteers and promising them they’ll survive. She left her spot, joining the three of you.

“Nice Speech.” Sarcasm obviously came from Raven’s voice as Clarke took a deep breath.

“Sometimes hope is more important than truth.”

“Your dad would be so proud.” Raven scoffed at her.

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “You wanted workers. You got them.” Clarke was right, there was a bunch of people who were now volunteering to help. Raven sent her a glare before leaving, leading the volunteers to the hangar bay. The three of you watched her leave.

“We save who can save today.” Bellamy told you both, repeating his words from earlier. You looked up at him, giving him a thin smile before looking to the rover. Your stomach as you caught sight of someone standing there next to it, someone who definitely shouldn’t be there.

Lexa?

You couldn’t believe your eyes and you shouldn’t have because the moment you blinked, she was gone. No one else having seen anything. You cleared your throat, blinking your eyes a few times more as you looked around, your sights landing on the rover in hopes of what? That your deceased friend would be there?

Clarke and Bellamy started walking away but your feet were planted in place. Bellamy paused, seeing you not move. “You coming?”

You looked at him, nodding your head. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll catch up.” You told him. He didn’t say anything as he kept walking taking glances back at you.

You brought your hand up to the back of your neck, feeling the spot where the flame was inserted. The flame? Lexa? The voice?

What the hell?

A/N: Well it’s been a while! Feedback is greatly appreciated and yeah, especially since it’s been a few weeks since I posted Banished.

Tags are Open! Let me know if you want to be added, re-added, removed, or changed!

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @nathaliabakes @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys @chewymoustachio @smilexcaptainx @faith-quake @clarkesplaylist

Bellamy: @jodiereedus22 @mysterioustruffle @danielabetancourth @a-sweet-little-fangirl @bellkadia @werosies

Banished: @strangerliaa @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @abysshaven @poisoned-girl @captainam-erika-trash @annoylinglyaries @peqchynero @buckysjuicyplums @your-typical-giggle @thelastdragon6 @savannah0111 @mckeeee-1 @disneychic8 @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis @oopsiedoopsie23 @crashlyrose @miindfvl @hurricane-abigail @thebookisbtr @txladyj-blog @lauren-100 @mrsjandrews @astroninaaa @broco8 @kittymcdougall12 @capsheadquaters @mikariell95 @acciowinchester @samustar @trashmouth-lizzy @where-are-you-everywhere @smol-book-nerd @cashmereandtears

#Bellamy Blake x Reader #Bellamy Blake imagine #Bellamy Blake #Banished #the 100 #the 100 x reader #the 100 imagine #the 100 series #Bellamy Blake series #Banished part 47 #new part #the 100 rewrite #banished series

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girlobsessed21 · 5 years ago

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Thoughts on The 100 7x01

Before I get into the episode, I felt the absence of Bellamy and Octavia, they are my favorites and a very core part of this show. I was worried about the lack of Bellamy in all the promotional material, but Jason explained in an article that he needed some time off and they gave that to him, but he still plays a vital role and we will see him again. At the end of the day, we don’t know what happened, but the mystery around his disappearance into anomaly is quite intriguing.

For now, I’m holding out hope that he will return to my screen in full force, until proven wrong I’m going to be positive. Despite that, I enjoyed it. It wasn’t my favorite first episode, still a strong start spreading optimism for the rest of the season. Lots of surprises that made it worthwhile.

The anomaly colony

Hope wakes up with memory loss while Gabriel examines her tattoos. She runs away and finds a note to herself that says, ‘Trust Bellamy’. Bellamy, not Octavia, who she clearly knows, which seems like Hope wasn’t aware she would find Octavia in Sanctum.

Now, why would Hope want to trust Bellamy and stab Octavia? Perhaps she needed his help finding her in return for Diyoza? This seems like a logical conclusion given that ‘He’ has her mother. The Blakes certainly hold some key to the anomaly, everything points me in that direction.

I can’t say all that much about Hope, due to the amnesia she has no personality yet, but it’s clear she’s smart and capable.

Gabriel being an anomaly-dork. Gosh, I love him too bits. The acting in the scene where they try to figure out what happened to Octavia and Bellamy is a little cringy, but I turned a blind eye and focused on the dialogue.

I’m getting to the good stuff…

Roan coming back to haunt Echo is probably my favorite part of the episode, I’ve missed the king so damn much. He asks her who she is without Bellamy or her queen. I’m so glad they’re delving into the subject. If you read my previous blogs, you’ll know I asked this question many times. She’s such a bad ass spy, she needs a purpose and story apart from him. Nonetheless, I like Echo and I would love to see her gain some of her own identity and build her own life. Being distanced by time and space could really do that for her. Scroll down for the shipping part of this story…

The more important thing is that there are people who control the anomaly and know exactly who they are. Like Echo predicted because of the bad shots they were sent to capture and not kill them except for Hope. I assume it’s because she knows how the anomaly works. Who are they and what do they want? My guess, Bellamy and Octavia. Perhaps Clarke as well?

Loved the three of them entering together because a few second difference could mean months. That means Diyoza and Octavia could have been months, maybe even years, apart.

Rising from and burning to ashes in one afternoon

This new beautiful house with the dysfunctional family and Madi with Picasso is certainly heart-warming in a show that continues to push the bounds of darkness. How great is that little picnic in the yard? Now I’m curious, they drink to Abby, but have they forgotten Kane?

Also, good to see Raven and Clarke on better terms. They really spoiled her character in season 6 but it seems like she’s back on par. It’s clear that good things happen when they’re working towards the same goal, as family. That dynamic has been broken since season 2 and if there’s one lesson that can be learned from season 1 it’s that they’re outstanding on the same team.

At first, I wondered why they weren’t questioning Octavia, Bellamy and Echo’s absence but then I realized they probably saved them a room like they did for Jordan and assumed they were exploring the anomaly. It’s still the same day as 6x13 since they were having lunch. Episode 6x13 ended at dawn and 7x01 starts at lunchtime.

I know Murphy did a lot of obscure things in season 6 but he’s not to blame for Abby’s death. Emori’s right, Russel killed her.

Why did Clarke choose the master suite, though? It seems a little out of character for her to do something so selfish.

On to other things, I must point out Indra’s line: “Someone needs to speak for the commander and I’m hungry.” She’s magnificent, hard and sharp, as always. Pair that with Miller being a dutiful, abiding shoulder and you have greatness.

Raven makes a comment about mothers and daughters and Clarke says she’s fine. Later, Madi also asks her to open up about it, and she still claims to be fine. When I heard this the first time, I was instantly worried because they heap one set of PTSD on top of the other and never deal with it. The woman just lost her mother, how the hell can she be fine. The answer: She can’t.

And I’m really glad they expanded on that to show how utterly necessary it is to deal with your grief and trauma. Sure, Clarke is a powerhouse of a woman, but she’s human and clearly hurt, she can’t compartmentalize and continue on like nothing has happened – I hope she finds a way to actually deal with it instead of following in Jasper’s footsteps. She was already suicidal, give the damn woman a break.

Is civility an ability?

Faith is a powerful and dangerous thing. Interesting topic. While I don’t completely believe that faith is dangerous, when it comes to the point of blindly following charlatan’s into harms way, yes it becomes dangerous. My biggest thoughts on this narrative is whether peace can indeed exist in a world where different factions exist with various beliefs and opinions. I’d like to quote John Lennon:

Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people living life in peace, you

Keyword being ‘Imagine’, this song is written about an unattainable Utopia which is still a reality several hundred years into the future.

“Too many people”

“Good thing ALIE’s not around.”

The humor is all around outstanding this episode even Clarke cracks a joke.

We’re introduced to a few new characters and not much too say about them since we didn’t see much of them. I like Nelson, he is firm in his stance, logical and pragmatic. Trey is just annoying with his faith in the divinity of the primes. The only thing I got from Nikki is that she’s compulsive and lethal while Hatch has this Southern charm and charisma. He reminds me of Sawyer from Lost.

Next, Jordan goes to check on Russel. I appreciate the way they build around the morality we saw withing Russel at the beginning of season 6. JR Bourne is a fantastic actor with the depth he plays into the grief and guilt of losing his family.

Also, the softness of Monty and Harper still shining through Jordan. I’m glad he’s not adjusted and simply trying to keep the peace. Not sure if that’ll change. Curious to know why they saw the anomaly in their visions…

I just need to add that Murphy sitting at a bar is perfect!! Another amazing episode for him and Emori. He questions himself with his own varied degrees of morality while Emori continues to grow by reading Kay Lee Prime’s journal. I guess the believers must be blind to continue following their orders, but hey, props to Raven for exploiting the opportunity and Murphy and Emori did an entertaining job with it. Emori has come such a long way and the ‘We are one’ line felt personal in the sense that she had also established herself as part of the family.

Losing my religion

Can you truly lose your religion? What is a fleimkeepa without a flame, what is Sanctum without the primes and what is Echo without Bellamy? Sometimes faith is stronger than truth. Bad thing, no! Because what is the truth really? Interesting subject to explore but I don’t have an answer on this. I’d rather focus on the fact that I’m glad we’ll get to explore these characters on new paths.

Clarke’s composure vanishes. Boy oh boy, Eliza’s acting. When you compare s6 and 7 to s1, it just shows you the value of experience. The way that switch flipped when Russel handed her Abby’s clothes and wedding band. I looked at the fighting and her explosive rage in detail and I cannot help but compliment her on that perfect portrayal of the result of passive aggression.

Now, I don’t understand how Sheidheda uploaded himself into Russel’s mind drive when it was made clear that two consciousness cannot exist in the same mind. When Clarke killed Josephine in the mind-space, she came back to life within seconds. Will this be another Clarke/Josephine battle and are the other commanders still subdued?

If he is going to be one of the main villains of the season, I would like to get under his skin. I’m not interested in a one-dimensional pure evil villain. I’m hoping JR Bourne will make something remarkable of him.

Shipwreck

There’s a friendship blooming between Clarke and Gaia and I’m all for it. Could they be setting them up romantically? It’s a possibility and I’d take it as a consolation prize for Bellarke if it’s well-built. Focus on the well-built. If Clarke finds out that Bellamy is missing and goes through hell and beyond to save him, I will interpret that as Clarke still loves Bellamy. If they want me to fall in love with Claia, they should make me fall in love with Claia.

Although I’d always prefer Bellarke. From a storytelling or writing viewpoint, all loose ends should be tied with the conclusion. Bellarke is a complete loose shard. If romance is not their destiny, I hope they at least address the topic in full, because it has been building for seven years. If you haven’t read my post on Bellarke, please do so. I explain in the romantic elements of their story in detail.

As for Echo’s vision of Roan. He questions her devotion to Bellamy and says she will even betray the man she now claims to love. I interpreted that as him referring to Mount Weather as well as secrets she’s obviously hidden from Bellamy. For example, her real name. This could go two ways in my opinion. One, they’re trying to set Echo apart from Bellamy, separating them by time and space to break them up or they are trying to teach her how to be her own person as well as the other half of their relationship.

I’m not quite invested in their relationship, and they would have to rip one bigass hare out of the hat to get my attention. Love their characters individually, but season 6 showed me Bellamy still loves Clarke. If Becho’s relationship was built to last, the writers would have written it that way. When you compare it to Murphy and Emori or Monty and Harper, it’s clearly questionable.

That’s it, let me know if I got something wrong, if you agree or disagree, love to hear your opinions.

#the 100 #the 100 season 7 #the 100 7x01 #the 100 season seven #The100 #clarke griffin #bellarke #bellamy blake #octavia blake #john murphy #emori #echo kom azgeda #gabriel #indra kom trikru #gaia #raven reyes #russel lightbourne #jordan green

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legendaryorangeloot · 4 years ago

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This is "The Union Screaming House", a short story I wrote as an alternate-universe American M.R. James story (which is why it's not got fully modern language when describing people's race and ethnicity, and the language/spelling in general is idiosyncratic in the way that letters from the <1900s tend to be.) I wrote it in one huge burst on a road trip with my partner from Milwaukee to St. Louis, and never really edited it, but I think it's true to the style and form of the author I'm trying to pay homage to, so all the weaknesses I can see are present in the source works and serve to make it more accurate (sorry, Monty James. you know I love you.)

Dec 22, 18--

My dearest Daniel - I write to you about events which recently occurred in the small town of Union, Mo., feeling certain that they will prove of interest to you, for your personal collections of curious supernatural tales and revolutionary literature. I suppose, as I shall leave no descendants, you may publish my full confession after all parties involved are deceased - such is the advantage of having much-younger friends, I suppose!

We were traveling across the midwestern states at a leisurely pace, hoping to recuperate my equilibrium after the trial in which I had recently defended Mr. W-- S-- against numerous charges of murder, about which: the less said, the better. It had become our custom over a period of weeks to seek out remote roads and tracks and follow them to their sources, which almost invariably were villages and towns with unusual “claims to fame”, such as one that boasted an underground lake, another with what they claimed as the oldest living tree in the state. This proved a diverting experience, and I greatly enjoyed conversing with many of the “oldsters” I met outside general stores and hearing tales of the War, and of their luck or lack there-of in the agriculture business. The endeavor was beginning to allow me to leave behind the feeling of grave wrong-doing that had dogged me since the verdict of the S-- trial, but what replaced it in Union may yet prove to be worse.

It was on one of these rather aimless treks that we found ourselves in Union, home of some 700 people. It was a chill autumn night, and darkness fell early, no later than 5 o. clock. Bryan, who was acting as driver, refused to travel in such a rural area after dark (wise, owing to his appearance - as you may recall from our last visit, Bryan is light enough to pass for “black Irish” stock, and usually does so successfully, but in the more… concerned areas of the country, he has been sometimes “found out”, with all the concurrent discriminatory rigmarole… sneaking “my servant” into my lodging-house rooms has been quite the risky undertaking in some of these towns.) At any rate, we obtained the name of a local widower who would be willing to rent a room to me for the night, and allow Bryan and our four-horse team to stay in his guest house and lavish stables, respectively.

Mr. R--, a sprightly gentleman of maybe 55 years, proved a quite gracious host, and commenced to give me a tour of the property, which was called Blackwater Woods. We walked around the barn, various outbuildings, and past many pastures and livestock holding-pens, before approaching the enormous main house. It was built in a style quite unlike the modest but modern homes of Union proper, and appeared to be designed in the manner of a frontier cabin, but on a scale so large that it made it seem slightly ridiculous, as though perhaps it had been constructed to display at a Worlds Fair and not for humans to inhabit at all. Mr. R-- was oddly reluctant to show me around much of the house in detail, as he had the farm-buildings, but he invited me to dinner and after-dinner drinks and cigars politely enough after escorting me to my second-floor room, which had clearly been a woman’s “boudoir” prior to being pressed into service as a guest room. I changed clothes and washed up with alacrity, eager to get the dust and grime of the road off my person, and still had ample time left to explore my surroundings. The room was large, and sparsely-furnished, but feminine touches from the prior inhabitant (Mrs. R--, I assumed at the time) still remained in the form of a silver-backed hairbrush near the vanity mirror, a jewelry box which played a tune when opened (I shut it quickly, as the mechanism appeared to be functioning not very well, and the too-slow tune rendered me oddly soporific), and a gauzy canopy hanging from the four posts of the bed, which I imagined was intended to be exotic in the manner of a harem, but was instead exotic in the manner of tropical anti-mosquito netting. I was oddly moved by this nod to concepts of Romance and Beauty in such a rural locale, and smiled to myself in the mirror, only to quickly blanch and whip my head round to look when I saw the form of a woman - a dusky-skinned woman, with high cheekbones and full lips - materialize behind me, visible in the mirror! In retrospect, I believe it was not just my terror at being accompanied at a time I believed myself alone that caused me to react so immediately and physically, but that the woman so obviously required help. She could hardly have communicated it more clearly than her facial expression did, even if she had plainly said “Help me!”. When I turned to look where I had seen her standing, near the enormous limestone fireplace, there was no-one there, and looking back in the mirror, she also did not re-appear. But there lingered in the air a smell - you are the only one I could tell this to - a womanly smell, but one that was attractive to me, in a way, which, I know you know, I have not experienced before (or since).

For all those reasons, I was deeply shaken as I went down to the dining-room to eat with Mr. R--. I thought that perhaps I could ask questions about the room’s former inhabitant, but each time I tried to broach the topic, Mr. R-- cut me off with florid tales of inconsequential things, which would have been greatly entertaining, had they not distracted me from my goal. I learned many interesting tid-bits of the area’s history, but was unable to discern a reason for the visage of the woman to appear, or what help she might require. I did learn that the “guest house” where my beloved Bryan now stayed was, in fact, former slave quarters, and this did not sit well with me. I was also able, by making some off-hand comments about the food, to learn that indeed we were alone in the house entirely, the woman who had cooked the meal being employed only at the dinner-hour and returning to her home in Union after serving. I do not remember what we ate.

After the meal, we retired to Mr. R--’s study, and he poured us generous doses of a bourbon of exceptional quality. The study, unlike the rest of the house, was furnished in an extravagant style that would not have seemed much out of place in the wealthiest salons of London or Vienna. Presumably for this reason, it was kept locked at all times with a latch and bolt-lock on the door, and keyed locks on the single window, to which, Mr. R-- explained, he held the only keys. I sipped at my bourbon as he spoke at length about various topics, and realized soon that he was drinking his as though it were water. I saw my opportunity to perhaps gain more information about the mirror woman, so I surreptitiously poured out the rest of my liquor onto the Turkish carpet, and proposed a refill, then another, then another, which I disposed of in the same way. As Mr. R-- became first tipsy, then outright intoxicated, I steered the conversation to the topic of the room I now stayed in. “Was it your wife’s chambers?” He appeared startled by this question and was quick to say, in a brusque manner, “No. It was used for brief, er, overnight stays only, for no-one in particular.” He attempted to change the subject after this answer, but I could see him beetling his brows at me from time to time as we spoke on less consequential matters. The evening wound down soon after this, and I excused myself to my room.

Upon reaching my room, it was no more than ten minutes before I heard the tip-tap of tiny pebbles being flung at my window, the typical sign from Bryan that he was waiting unseen below and wished entry. Never had I more needed his strong and steady presence, his welcome simple physicality, the comfort of his arms - I hope that you do not mind, and rather believe that you will enjoy this part, as unsatisfying as it ended up in reality - and I began to ready myself even as I quietly opened the window, using the heel of my hand to press against my rapidly-stiffening member in preparation for our reunion. But it was not to be, for the Bryan that hoisted himself through my window after climbing up the ivy and planks on the side of the house was not amorous, but terrified. I immediately asked what the trouble was, and he said that we must go, and that he needed to show me something in the “guest house” - which I shall refer to as the slave quarters from now on, as this is more relevant to its position in the story - after which we must flee this house. He used this exact word, “flee”, and it was one of the ways I knew just how serious this revelation he had for me must be.

We both climbed down the side of the huge house as quickly as we could, and dashed across the moonless dark of the lawn, past the garden and woodpile, to the former slave quarters, a squat building greatly resembling Indian long-houses I have seen, but made of sturdy split logs and patched with something between mud and cement. A fire burned inside and smoke spiraled up from the small chimney, and when we reached it and went indoors, shutting the pine-plank door fast behind us, Bryan first kissed me fiercely and quickly, then went on to say “I found this account written on bark, stripped from the walls of this house, hidden in one of the straw mattresses. But it is more than half in slave pidgin and picto-grams, and what English is used is not very grammatical. Do you trust me to tell you the contents truly?” and by way of reply I kissed him tenderly, pressing my forehead to his, and squeezed his hand, saying “With my very life.” He replied that it hopefully would not come to that. He showed me a long strip of bark with writing on it, and what I could read conformed to his translation, which I will put here in more colloquial ways of speaking, for clarity: “Last winter Margaret was called to visit Mr. R-- after sunset and never did return, and he said that she ran away, but never bothered to tell the lawman, or offer a reward for the return of a servant, and I think sometimes that I see her in the upper window, but never except at night when fires are burning in all the rooms of the house. Now he has arranged for me to come to the big house secretly after dark and I fear that I, too, will never return. If you find this, look for me. Meliora.”

We stared at each other wide-eyed as I put together the pieces in my mind and I said to Bryan “I know what we must do, but if you do not like it - I also do not like it - I understand if you must simply go and ready the horses for our escape.” He said that he would accompany me even to the gates of Hell, and I said that it hopefully would not come to that. We went to the great woodpile beside the house and found an axe and hatchet, and used the latter to break the lock of the front door, and went directly to my room. As quietly as one can accomplish such a thing, we began dismantling the room - we moved the furniture to the center, and started using the tools as pry-bars to remove boards from the wall. It was not long before I heard a stifled cry behind me and saw Bryan kneeling near one wall, pulling forth what was unmistakably a winding-shroud, stained with old blood, containing naught but dark skin, bones, and black hair. As I came over to assist him, I stumbled and fell against the limestone mantel, and broke it away, and the falling rock opened the boards of the floor, where more gauzy shrouds were hidden beneath, and my heavy axe smashed the fire-warmed stone at the back of the fireplace, where a recent, beautiful corpse, matching my mirror apparition exactly, lay in surprisingly dignified repose. This kind of noise would wake anyone, even the bourbon-soaked Mr. R--, who entered the room just at that second, and it is hard to say now which sight shocked him the most greatly. But he had no opportunity to say anything about it, as Bryan fairly flew at him from across the room, holding his hand over Mr. R--’s mouth, and the hatchet’s handle across his throat in preparation to strangle the life from him. “No!” I hissed quickly. And Bryan’s expression in that moment caused me to die inside, seeing how fast he thought I would side with the despicable murderer Mr. R-- over the love of my life, due only to our shared skin color, but I put this aside to say my actual piece, which was “We have to make it look like an accident.”

We frog-marched Mr. R-- downstairs, and forced him to unlock the study, confiscating the keys afterwards. We tied him to the heaviest chair using his own silk smoking-jacket, and I touched a brand from the fire to the Turkish carpet I’d soaked with bourbon earlier in the evening, and we did not spare the struggling, squealing Mr. R-- another look as we walked from the room, hands clasped, to return the axes to the woodpile before driving away.

I trust that, after your actions in Lawrence, this story will please you, rather than shock you. I hope that I have done your revolutionary spirit proud in administering fair and equitable justice. After long discussion, I have decided to prove to Bryan that his assumption in the moment Mr. R-- entered the room was entirely wrong, and we depart for France, together, next week. The keys from Mr. R--’s house, we will throw into the Atlantic Ocean, and never mention the sorry incident again.

With love,

Your friend,

J. Schiffmann

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breyito · 5 months ago

Text

Snippet No.2:

(this one goes before the last one, by a fair amount of time)

Edwin’s been driving Charles insane the whole day. While usually they would exchange mocking looks as Ms. Night lectures them, the older boy has refused to look at him more than necessary. Which, outside their History Class, is zero.

So, Edwin has been basically ignoring him all morning and Charles’ is at his wit’s end. Yeah, they had tried something a bit different yesterday, but it wasn’t completely new, and if Edwin had any complaints, Charles’ would have usually heard about them by now already.

(No, bad Charles! Not thinking about the pretty bratty boy on his knees while you’re in class.)

He has been ignoring pretty much everybody, actually. Not answering teachers’ questions and not correcting them either. He’s wearing the black turtleneck that makes him look so fucking posh and polished, even if privately he’s nothing but.

Fuck, Charles wants to get him alone. Needs to get him alone.

Finally, finally, the lunch bell rings. Charles, who didn’t even bother taking his things out of his backpack for this class, jumps and catches up to the other boy.

Simon is already getting to Edwin, a question on his lips. Monty is not far behind him, a worried frown on his too-perfect face.

Vultures, the whole lot of them. Charles thinks viciously.

“Sorry, mate, I need him for our project.” he says, grabbing Edwin by the wrist and ignoring the soft shocked “Hpmh!” he lets out as he barely manages to catch his bag before being dragged away.

“Charles!” the other boy protests, but quietly. The athlete knows that Edwin is never quiet when he really objects to something, so he ignores it and keeps on going. Besides, there’s no tugging, Ed just lets him guide them to wherever the younger boy wants to go.

‘Wherever’ turns out to be a supply closet in the music wing, which is always empty at this time (and is where Edwin is supposed to go after lunch anyways, so he can’t complain too much.)

Charles opens the door and, checking there is enough room, gets them both inside in record time. He gets both their bags and drops them in a corner, ignoring Edwin’s soft protest.

The first thing he does when they’re alone is hug Edwin very strongly. The older boy tenses for a second, before slowly hugging back.

“Shit, you drove me up the wall all morning, babe.” He says into Edwin’s ear.

“I didn’t even speak to you, Charles.” Edwin protests quietly.

“Exactly! You didn’t speak to me, or joked with me or looked at me.” Charles complains, whining.

Edwin huffs a laugh into the other boy’s shoulders.

“You were doing it on purpose then, ignoring me?” Charles asks teasingly, separating them enough to look at those pretty jewel eyes.

“Of course not.” Edwin says, hoarse, looking down.

“Are you sure?” the athlete questions, cupping the older boy’s face firmly. “Sure you didn’t want to drive me crazy enough to kidnap you away from your friends and snog you silly?” Charles’ tone loses its playfulness at the memory of Simon and Monty just waiting to get Edwin’s attention all to themselves.

But the older boy shakes his head and looks away. Charles refuses to not have his eyes on him anymore.

“Look at me, darling.” Those wide green eyes take half an eternity to find his own, but that’s okay. “There we go, pretty boy.”

Anticipating the protest Edwin always has against the term, Charles drowns it between their tongues.

“Mmmh” says Charles against his mouth. “You taste like honey.”

Edwin protests are muffled by Charles’ lips until the older boy pushes him away to liberate his mouth.

“Of course I taste like honey!” he whispers-shouts. “I’ve been downing honey drops by the bag, Charles!” he protests, hoarse.

“Oh?” the athlete hums distractedly, mouthing the edge of Edwin’s chin, following the purple bruises with gusto. “Why?”

“Why-what do you mean why!?” Edwin sounds indignant, despite stretching his head back to leave room for Charles’ explorations. “I have a debate competition tomorrow! With the state you left my throat in-”he bites his lips to shut himself up, but it’s far too late already. Charles obviously heard him, since he’s frozen still for a moment or two.

Suddenly, Edwin is smashed against the door (which, fortunately for all involved, happens to be of quality and not open from the impact) and kissed with such ferocity that any thoughts he might have had fled his head entirely. His hands anchor themselves in Charles’ hair, even though he really should grasp something else to maintain his balance.

“Yeah?” asks Charles when they break apart, both heaving. “That’s why you were so quiet all day,” he whispers hotly in Edwin's ear “marked you all up from the inside?”

“Charl-” the older boy starts, scandalised. He tries to avoid the athlete’s gaze, to no avail.

“Fucked you silent for a whole day, huh?” Charles interrupts. “Did it hurt, babe?”

Edwin can do nothing but swallow and remain silent. That is a mistake, since Charles’ gaze homes into the movement of his throat, eyes hungry. Slowly, he lifts one hand from its place on Edwin’s waist and brings it up, until the tips of his fingers are caressing the long, marked stretch of skin. The older boy shivers and swallows again, the phantom sensation of that hand holding him by the neck so firmly replaying in his mind.

“Can you still feel me inside, luv?” Charles’ whispers, like in a trance. His thumb is now tracing the faint bruised corners of Edwin’s mouth. Charles’ looks feverish as he gently puts his thumb in Edwin’s mouth, barely outlining his lower lip from the inside, feeling the fragile moist skin there. The older boy swallows again, and this time he can taste salt and skin and Charles, and that is probably what makes him lose his senses and actually answer.

“...yes.” he says, also in a whisper. Edwin feels himself gain courage and pulls at the hair he has in his hands so that Charles’ eyes lock with his own instead of remaining on his mouth. “As troublesome as it is, I can even say that I miss it.” he finishes, before kissing the pad of Charles’ finger and then his palm, green eyes still firmly on Charles’.

“Fuck.” the athlete curses with all his body, shivering. The just kissed hand grabs Edwin’s face and they kiss again and again, and again.

When they split apart, the older boy smiles at him mischievously. In two seconds, he pushes him gently but firmly, making Charles take two steps back; grabs his backpack and opens the door to then leave and close it.

“Goodbye, Charles.” singsongs Edwin, from the other side, before hurrying away, aware that the lunch hour is almost over.

“....fuck.” mumbles the athlete, forehead making a thud as it hits the wood.

-----

(Listen, I swear by the life of me, I'm not this horny like, ever. Idk why these two have such a chokehold on me, I usually blush too much to write something this...sexually charged lmao.)

Distraction: High School AU

Charles and Edwin start an…acquaintances with benefits kind of thing. They are not friends, but have been paired together for the full term in History class. Charles is one of the cricket star players and very cocky but still nice, if annoying. Edwin is the head of the debate team and the chess club. They are both very stressed due to their home lives and argue a lot, which ends with them snogging the daylights out of each other. They agree to keep doing it (as a stress relief) unless they find someone else they want to seriously date; but they are not together and there won’t be any feelings involved; that’s the deal. The rules are mostly at Charles’ insistence, even if Edwin writes them down. Of course, Charles falls for Edwin pretty much immediately, although he tries to hide it. (He fails miserably and it’s obvious to everyone except Edwin, of course.)

“You aren’t getting any ideas are you, Eds?” Charles asks, desperately wanting him to say ‘yes, actually’.

“Ideas?”

“About us, I mean.”

“What ‘us’? Charles, all you’ve ever been is a distraction. A pretty fit one, mind you, but just that.” Edwin smiles that smug smirk that makes Charles want to either punch him or snog him senseless and leave him panting. “You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

Snippet:

“Would you finish tidying up quickly? I have other things to do.” Edwin says, putting on his shoes.

“Like Monty?” Charles asks, snidely.

“Pardon me?”

“You heard me. Are you leaving to go fuck him?”

“What…? How is that any of your business?”

“Just answer me, Eds!” he pleads.

“Even if I was, it -”

“You’re not, then?” Charles interrupts, grabbing his shoulders and locking his eyes onto Edwin’s.

“...no, I’m not.” Charles sighs in relief. “I mean, he asked me out, but-”

“He asked you out!?” Relief gone, Charles suddenly pins the other boy against the door, preventing him from leaving. “When?”

“I don’t know, Friday?”

“Friday? Today’s Wednesday! And you didn’t think to tell me?” Edwin shakes off Charles' grasp and quickly walks towards his backpack, turning around as he grabs it.

“Why would I tell you? The deal was that unless it was serious-”

“The deal? Really Edwin? The deal!?”

“Why are you even asking me questions if you’re never letting me answer them, Charles!?” the older boy yells, frustrated.

“Because I can’t believe you still think the deal means anything!” Charles yells back, also frustrated. He grabs his tennis ball from the desk and begins throwing it to the floor and back over and over.

“What are you talking about? Of course it means something; we’re still following the rules!”

“Are we, Ed? Really?”

“Of course we are!” Edwin says, throwing his backpack on the chair.

“No, we’re not! We haven’t followed the bloody rules in weeks!” yells Charles, throwing the ball with enough force that it ricochets off the ground and onto the closet and then, like it's inevitable, crashes into their miniature model and shatters all their work along with it.

Complete silence reigns for a few beats, then.

“This is all your fault!” Charles accuses, rounding up on the other boy.

“My fault!? How could this possibly be my fault!?” Edwin asks shrilly, incredulously.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you!” Charles yells, yanking at his hair with both hands. “Because everything you do drives me crazy! Because every time you aren’t looking at me, or worse, if you are looking at Monty or Simon or bloody Thomas my blood boils.” He confesses.

Charles’s eyes find Edwin’s, open wide as well as his mouth.

Speechless, huh, thinks Charles, never seen him like that.

“Charles-? Wha-what are you-” the other boy seems unable to finish a sentence.

Charles walks up to him again, and this time he makes sure Edwin can’t look away. He pins him against the wall with a leg between his thighs and threads one hand through his hair while grabbing his chin with the other one. He gently caresses Edwin’s lower lip with his thumb before locking it under his chin.

“Look at me,” he asks, when Edwin tries to escape by closing his eyes. “Ed, open those gorgeous eyes and look at me.” This time he orders it, and the older boy can’t help but obey. “There you are,” Charles murmurs, closer still, smiling “my pretty boy.”

Edwin gasps at how the words make their mouths brush. He grabs Charles by the biceps and hangs on the fabric of his shirt by dear life. They stay there for a few moments, just sharing breaths, drowning in each other’s eyes.

Charles closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together. If Edwin thought escaping that gaze would make things easier he was sorely mistaken. The younger boy leaves the hand in his hair where it is, but starts moving the other one down, and his lips mouth his cheek until they reach his ear, to begin whispering.

“I can’t, for the life of me, stop needing you. I feel like I’m starving when I don’t have your kisses. Like I might just as well disappear if you’re not looking at me with those jewel tone eyes.”

“My skin craves your touch so much that I become jealous of the books you treat so gently. My heart tries to jump out of my chest every time I hear you laugh, as if to join you.” Those lips go down and down and stop at his neck. “My mouth misses the curve of your neck, right here." He says, biting lightly. “My hands miss how your waist fits between them.” He continues, squeezing said waist hard, over already fading bruises hiding under the fabric.

Charles lifts his head again and kisses Edwin deep and long, leaving no corner unconquered, no meagre breath behind. After, he touches noses with the older boy in an innocent bunny kiss so Ed will open his eyes again. “I am completely, irreversibly, gone on you. And I can’t begin to imagine life without you.”

#payneland #paineland #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #dbda #high school au #distraction au

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years ago

Text

The Treasures of a Stark - AUgust Day 16

Title: The Treasures of a Stark

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Brief mention of background characters’ racism

Pairings: Sam/Bucky, Rhodey/Tony

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Sam and Bucky are famous Youtube treasure hunters. When searching for treasure that may have part of insurance fraud, they don't expect the grandson of the accused to help out.

+++++++

“So, this time, we’re searching for the insurance fraud dump of Montgomery Stark.” Sam Wilson looks right at the camera. “Rumor is, about fifty years ago, Mr. Stark reported more than half of his heirlooms and precious jewels stolen, racking up millions in insurance money. No one ever knows because he died two months after he collected the money, but there are rumors that the man ‘stole’ the things and buried them somewhere off his property. We’re going to see if we can find it. Montgomery Stark was outlived by his son Howard Stark, who died about fifteen years go. Now, the face of the operation is his son, Tony Stark.” “But if we do find it, we’re not giving it to the insurance company because fuck them.” Bucky adds. “Also fuck Tony Stark, the asshole.” Sam motions to cut, and the camera turns off.

Anyone who watches their show knows that Bucky has a dislike for insurance companies. They have screwed him over too many times. He’s highly distrusting of any high power and is more likely to punch first and ask questions later when feeling threatened. But when it comes to doing things for the thrill or exploring anything haunted, he’s the first one to advocate for it.

Sam, on the other hand, is a little more reasonable. He doesn’t exactly like people in power either, but he isn’t actively hating them. What he actively hates is horror, but he lets Bucky drag him into hunts for haunted treasure. He’s not sure why. Steve is. “Bucky, wasn’t Tony Stark the one who designed that awesome prosthetic?”

“Yeah, but he’s a billionaire. Fuck him.”

Sam shakes his head. “Ok, well, you can do that, but I’m going to research this a little more.” He gets up and doesn’t notice Bucky’s face behind him. Pulling out maps and the case files, Sam tries to figure out where the late Mr. Stark could have hidden his stash. Bucky sits at the table a few minutes later.

“What do you want me to do?” He asks.

Sam hands him the printed statements from everyone the police had interviewed while the case was open. “Here, read through these. See if anything looks useful.”

Bucky gets to work, and Sam plots different coordinates into his maps. He’s not finding anything anywhere until Bucky slides over a paper that has the statement of Montgomery Stark’s housekeeper, a Madeline Foster. They first ask her if she was there the night of the robbery. She advised that no, she was not, as she starts work and 6am and leaves at 7pm each day. The robbery took place around 9pm. After clearing herself after a few more questions, they begin to interview her with the view of Montgomery Stark committing insurance fraud. She told them that she doubts he did because “Mr. Stark runs on a schedule that he hasn’t broken for the last fifty years.” Ms. Foster goes on to give the police Montgomery’s full schedule.

“We can work with this. See where these places are. I wonder if any of these places has anywhere that he could have hidden it.” Sam grins.

They both work on the case for a good five hours before they both call it a day. “We’ll get back to it tomorrow.” Bucky stretches. “Hey, Steve texted me, asking if I wanted to grab dinner. Wanna come?”

“I don’t want to third-wheel if Steve wants it to be you two.” Sam isn’t sure why Bucky does this. Does he not want to be in a relationship with Steve, but he doesn’t know how to break up with him?

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Sam, Steve and I, we’re like brothers. There is, never was, and never will be any romantic love between us. Only platonic and familial. Now, come on. I can even buy you dinner if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I can pay for my own.” Sam shoves him. “I’m not going to be your sugar baby.”

They meet Steve at their favorite local restaurant. He asks them about their newest project. When they tell him, he warns them, “The Starks can be pretty private. I knew Howard Stark before he died, and he was nice enough, but I didn’t really know anything about him.”

Bucky swears. “It figures. If they hear anything about it, they’ll shut us down. Can’t stand to let us find out hidden family secrets.”

“We’re not that big. I’m sure they won’t hear about it.” Sam tries to reassure them.

++++++++

Sam and Bucky try to find clues to help them figure out where Montgomery Stark might have hidden his treasure. After two weeks of no progress, they are wondering if they should just give up. They hear their secretary say something in a loud voice, and another voice answers her. “What’s going on out there?” Bucky wonders.

“Sir, you can’t just walk back there! You need to book an appointment!” Darcy is getting closer.

The other voice replies. “Relax. I just want to talk to them. I’m not going to hurt them. This door?” The door opens… and Tony Stark walks through.

“Fuck.” Bucky mumbles. “Guess Steve was right.”

Stark looks at them, then holds out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Wilson & Mr. Barnes, I presume? I’m Tony Stark, and I’m here to talk to you.”

“Sam Wilson, sir. Nice to meet you.” Sam shakes it. “This is my colleague, Bucky Barnes.”

“Ah, the first Stark Prosthetic. Does it meet your needs and expectations?”

Surprised that Tony Stark would remember a name, Bucky stumbles over his words. “Y-yeah it works…. Um… pretty good, I I guess.”

“Pretty good is not good enough. If we have time today (and you’d like), I would take a look at it for you. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I heard wind that you were looking into Grampa Monty’s treasure.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Bucky challenges.

Stark shakes his head. “No, I want to help you. The truth is, I fully believe that my grandfather committed insurance fraud. Which is kind of a dick move because 1.) my grandmother was so disturbed by the whole ordeal; she spent the rest of her life in bed. Not that he knew, I guess, because he died a few months after the robbery. Bad karma is my guess. Also, 2.) much of that stuff was my mother’s jewels from her family. He had no right to collect insurance on any of that, but he did. Now, I would like my mother’s belongings. I’m not sure how it works, but if I have to pay the insurance companies back, I will. If you have any clues, I will help you out in any way that I can.”

“Are you ok with being videoed for the episode?” Sam asks. “We will have to get our lawyers to draw up a form for you to sign.”

“Of course. I don’t want to be a bother. Take your time. Here’s my card. Please, give me a call when you can, and I will come down as soon as possible. Thank you for you time.” Stark nods and walks out the door. They can hear him thanking Darcy as he leaves.

She comes in a few minutes later. “I’m sorry guys. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“It’s ok Darcy. There was nothing you could do about it.” Bucky smiles at her. “Thanks for trying.”

“I like what you do, and you guys pay me well.” She winks.

When Darcy goes back to her desk, Bucky turns to Sam. “What do you think?”

“I mean, he seems like he’s eager to help us.” Sam nods. “He can probably get us into different high-end things that we could not on our own. Want to call Matt and Foggy?”

“Yes. I think they might have some good insight.”

Sam calls their lawyers, Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson, explaining the situation. They advise to make a strict NDA for Tony to sign. If he’s ok with it or only requests small changes (to be okayed by them), they would advise to go forward with Stark’s help. An NDA is drawn up and forwarded to Stark. He arrives the next day with it and another man in hand.

“Everything looks good. It is signed and noted. Shall we start?” He questions.

“Tones.” The other guy gives him a look.

Smacking his forehead, Stark looks embarrassed. “Fuck. I forgot. Gentlemen, this is my boyfriend, Colonel James Rhodes. I call him Rhodey. Rhodey, this is Mr. Sam Wilson and Mr. Bucky Barnes.”

“Nice to meet you,” The colonel says, shaking their hands. “Call me Rhodey.”

“Rhodey signed the NDA as well, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to loophole something with him. We are going to do this with integrity.”

Bucky and Sam give each other a look, both seemingly swept up in Tony Stark’s big personality. Rhodey notices and gives him a small shove. “Tones, this is their show. We’re just in the background pulling strings to help them.”

“That’s right. Tell us where we need to be and what we need to do.”

Sam takes control. “Thank you, gentlemen. If you want to take a seat at the table, we are just going through these papers with a fine-toothed comb to see if there’s anything we missed.”

The cameras roll, and the four men go through the papers. Tony finds Ms. Foster’s statement, and he holds it up. “This could be huge. Let’s see… the house was robbed on a Tuesday. He probably would have stashed the loot in the next two days, wouldn’t you think?” He looks to the others for confirmation. “Ok, so his Wednesday schedule. Come down for breakfast at 6:30. Go into the office by 7. He wouldn’t have kept the stuff at the office because police did a full sweep of SI as well. Wednesday lunches were spent at La Palova. That’s a pretty exclusive restaurant with plenty of cameras. Let’s just say for now that it’s probably not there. Back to office by one, wow, he kept a really tight schedule. Old Monty left the office at 230 to golf at Emerald Isle. Tons of open land there. Be home by 730 for dinner. I mean, there’s time, but not much. Sorry, am I taking over here?”

“No, you’re the only one who knows about this stuff, so keep going.”

“Ok. Thursday schedule, almost the same. Gives himself an hour for lunch, but after work, he likes to drive in the canyon. He was too old for much exercise, I’d bet, but maybe he likes to watch the sunset? The sunsets there are beautiful. Also, a great place to hide not-really-stolen treasure.”

Rhodey speaks up, “There’s also that little bend where we used to go to make out away from the house, remember? For a guy who spent his whole life driving the canyon, he should know all the ins and outs.”

“Are you saying that we might have had sex on top of my mother’s heirlooms?” Tony shudders. “That’s creepy.”

Bucky and Sam share that look again. Sam shakes his head and puts his hands up. “Okayyyy… we do not need to know more. Remember, the camera is rolling. So, you think that Montgomery Stark hid the stuff in the canyon?”

“I honestly think he hid it somewhere on the golf course. He owned shares in the course and the club, so technically, no one could ask him why he’s on any part of the land. I wonder if that got passed down.” Tony hums. “I think Monty would’ve thought that people would be suspicious of the canyon.”

“Well, when we actually get our resources, we can split up into two bands. Mr. Stark, you can take one of us to the golf course. Rhodey, you can take the other to the canyon. There will be a lot of exploring to be done.” Bucky advises.

Sam tacks on. “Yea, and we have more than one camera so we can film both of us at the same time.”

By the end of the week, Sam and Bucky think they have the resources they need to scope out both places. They banter back and forth like normal throughout the week. As they’re arguing about who’s going to the golf course and who’s going to the canyon, when Tony asks, “Hey, I meant to ask you. How long have you guys been dating?”

Bucky chokes and Sam coughs. “We’re… not… dating.” He says and looks at Bucky.

“Oh, just fucking? Like friends with benefits?” Tony raises an eyebrow.

Rhodey admonishes. “Tony, language. Camera is rolling.”

“Ah, they’ll edit it out. Listen boys, if you’re not dating or at least screwing, you should. You got some serious charisma. Kind of like my honeybear and me.” He smooches Rhodey on the cheek.

“Well, we’re not. End of discussion.” Bucky knows his face is bright red. He really likes Sam, and he thinks Sam likes him. However, he’s too afraid to make the first move. He doesn’t want to mess up the team dynamic.

Tony smirks. “Whatever. I think I can answer your question, though. Due to the fact that old elitist country clubs are still pretty fucking racist, it might be better if I take Bucky. Unfortunately, there will be less suspicion, and we can get through a lot faster without someone trailing us at all times. You should have seen the last time I took Rhodey somewhere like that. I refused to go back.” He shudders. “I’ll see what I can do if we have to go back a second day, but…” Tony trails off.

Sam slings an arm around Rhodey’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. We’ll have fun exploring the canyon and talking about you white boys.”

“If you’re sure. I’m sorry we had to make a decision that way, you know?” Tony smiles sadly.

+++++++++

The next day, Tony takes Bucky to the Emerald Isle golf course. They talk about this and that, but Tony notices Bucky is a little withdrawn. “Hey, you ok?” He asks.

“Yea, I’m just trying to figure out what my friend would say if he found out I was hanging out with a billionaire today.”

“Eat the rich kind of guy?” Tony knows a few of those.

Bucky grins. “Yea. I am, too.”

“Well, you surely aren’t pulling any punches. Do you have any questions for me?” Tony is genuinely interested. Barnes seemed like a level-headed kind of guy. He might have some good ideas for Tony to try.

“I do, actually. How do you feel about making a difference in the world?”

“I am very strongly for it, but I don’t always need my name on things, contrary to popular belief. They call me a billionaire because I earn billions annually. However, I and the company pay most of our taxes without using loopholes. Other than voting and lobbying a little, I can’t convince the government to do the right thing with the money. Yes, I do have multiple houses and cars, and I even own an island, but much of my money is sunk into various charities and funds around the world. Some have my name backing them, like the September Grants, but plenty of them are given anonymously so my accountant can’t get mad at me for not taking the tax breaks. So, yes, I do want to help change the world for the better, but I don’t want it to seem like I, myself made the world better.”

Bucky just nods. They make small talk again until Tony brings up Sam. “I think he’s a great guy. You have a great co-worker in him.”

“Yea, and he’s the love of my life.” Bucky sighs.

Tony turns to look at him, and Bucky warns. “Eyes on the road.”

“I will.” Tony turns back. “But you love him? Why don’t you tell him? Do you know amazing your life would be?”

“I don’t want to mess up our already good thing. I mean, I think he likes me, but what if he doesn’t? What if we date and then break up, and we can’t do this anymore? It’s not easy to find a job with a prosthetic.”

“You could start your own channel. People like you enough. They’ll watch you.” Tony suggests. “But if you want it to last, don’t think about what will happen if it doesn’t.”

“I’ll think about it.” Bucky mutters.

Tony pulls into the Emerald Isle valet parking area. “We’re here.” He hands the valet his keys and tips him. “Follow me.”

He leads Bucky to the manager’s office where he tells the man at the desk that he just realized he inherited the shares from Howard, and he’s looking over the property to see if he should buy more shares, sell these, or stay where I’m at. Do you mind if I take my guy and look around?”

The manager stammers and acquiesces. He gives Tony keys to a golf cart and a map of the property. They start scouting, the camera guy sitting in the back of the cart. “You know what you’re looking for more than me.” Tony tells Bucky. Let me know if you want me to pull over somewhere.”

++++++ “So, how long have you and Tony been together?” Sam asks as Rhodey drives him down the interstate towards the canyon.

Rhodey shrugs. “Nineteen, twenty years? We started dating when he was nineteen. I was twenty-one.”

“You guys seem to have what it takes. I’m happy for you.” He wishes he and Bucky could have that, but he knows that Bucky doesn’t like him that way.

“Thanks. Yea, Tony can be a complete dumbass eighty percent of the time, but he’s a loveable one, you know?”

Sam nods. He knows someone like that. He sighs. If Bucky’s not for him, Buck’s not for him. End of story. He’ll find someone else at some point. “So, how’s life as a colonel? That’s got to be rough on your relationship, especially before DADT was repealed.”

“I am happy with my job. I do get more leave because I date Tony Stark, who supplies the military with hi-tech equipment that can’t be weaponized. He won’t make them weapons of any sort anymore.”

“I don’t blame him. Weapons manufacturing is not a business I’d like to be in.” The two chat about whatever comes to mind until Rhodes pulls off the road at a bend in the canyon.

“Ok here. There are caves just beyond this bend. Most of them have never been explored. I’ll show you the ones we have definitely been in.”

“Oh yes, now I’ll be imagining your sexploits.” Sam groans and Rhodey chuckles. “Now, we have to think… Montgomery was an old man at this point. There’s no way he could have dug very deep.”

Rhodey mans the camera, and Sam grabs a shovel. They head toward the caves. Cave after cave, Sam checks the ground for any areas that may have been dug up and replaced. Those he did find were too small to hold anything like the stash the late Stark would have had. Further and further back they go until Rhodey is worried about the wall stability. “We should probably stay closer to the cave openings.”

After going through all the caves and finding nothing, Sam relaxes back against the cave wall. “Whew. Maybe Tony was right. There’s nothing here.” The wall moves a little, and he jumps out. Turning, he and Rhodey see a 10” by 10” hold in the wall. Looking inside, they see a small pile of jewels and gold bars!

Sam whips out his phone to call Bucky just as his phone starts ringing. “Hello?”

“Sam! We found some of the treasure! It was in a secret room in a shed near the edge of the property. It was all overgrown because no one has been there for years!” Bucky sounds very excited.

“We found the rest! It was in a secret wall in one of the caves! Are you taking it with you today? We’re going to grab this stuff.” Sam is smiling widely.

Putting on gloves, Sam slides all the treasures into a knapsack. Once done, they walk out of the cave. Rhodey looks back at it, squinting. “Tony’s not going to be happy about this.” He grins.

“Don’t tell me.” Sam warns. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Rhodey drops Sam off at home. “Put that in a safe or something til tomorrow.” He warns. “Hey Sam, also, I don’t want to tell you what to do, but Barnes likes you, too. He makes heart-eyes at you all day. If your fans can see it, it’s there.” Sam nods and Rhodey drives off.

++++++ “So, friends, that’s how we found treasure and solved a crime in the episode!” Sam grins.

“Also, when Tony asked the question of how long we’ve been dating, we have an answer for him now.” Bucky adds in. “It has been a week ago today.” Sam and Bucky kiss in front of the camera as the screen fades to black.

“Wow, this episode got a lot of love,” Tony comments. “I’d like to think it was all me. Also.” He turns to Rhodey. “I can’t believe we blew each other right beside my mother’s jewels. I think her ghost is attached to those things. I may have scarred her for her entire afterlife.”

“Tell me, does ‘Bam’ or ‘Sucky’ sound better as a ship name?” Bucky speaks up. “Twitter made a poll.”

Sam swats at Bucky’s shoulder. “Tell them Sambucky. They should learn how to name things correctly.” They share a kiss again. Sam is happy he had the courage to talk to Bucky. Spending the rest of his life with this man sounds like a good idea.

#sambucky #ironhusbands #treasure hunt au #tw: racism mention #au_gust_2020 #i write!#mentions of smut

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murphystartedthefire · 6 years ago

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Conageddon: Richard VIP Meeting Recap

EDIT: I meant to say, I originally had a General Admission ticket, but a very kind soul Noémie who unfortunately couldn’t attend the con let me upgrade to her Richard Harmon VIP badge at a major discount and I can never thank her enough for that.

-----------

- First off, someone in the VIP group had made friendship bracelets for everyone including Richard which was sweet. Another person had brought him a pink crop-top (tummy-bearing shirt) that said "Team Murphamy" on it, and when he saw it he IMMEDIATELY pulled his original shirt off and put it on. (Prompting one of the con staff members to walk in, see him topless, and just be like "Seriously, already?" LMAO.) He wore that for the rest of the meet & greet and group photo. *g*

- The VIP group was big (almost 20 people) but Richard made sure everyone had a chance to talk by going around the table and having each person say something, talk about where they’re from, ask him a question, etc. <3 A few people were still shy or couldn't come up with something, but most had something to ask. My first question was what's on his Murphy Playlist right now -- he said 500 songs but his big one for season six was “Villain” by David Ramirez. He also mentioned his favorite song is "Ballad of a Thin Man" by Bob Dylan, which is also on his Murphy list.

- His family teased him about being in Boston on St. Paddys Day, were texting him to come back alive. After the con on Sunday he appropriately had tickets to a Dropkick Murphys concert. (Turns out he wasn't the only one.)

- Favorite scary movie: He likes bad & good horror movies. His favorite is Halloween III: Season of the Witch, a cult movie people hated at the time but is secretly the best movie ever made.

- Also quick note that immediately before taking that photo, Bob gave him the beads because he showed him his nips.

Murphy & The 100 Stuff

- When asked about his favorite dynamic/people to work with on the show he went to Luisa right away, said people don't realize how good she is. He talked about this again on their panel later, but he realized it was funny he felt so close to her and until recently they didn't really know anything about each other's personal lives. In season three he was going through something bad and she probably could tell but they never talked about it, they just set everything aside when they worked together and he needed that.

- He also clarified that when he said in the past that he wanted the Memori breakup to stick, he didn't want that to be taken against her or that he’s not happy about them getting back together -- it's that he wishes she could do more on her own without being shackled to him.

- He also talked about Bob and how they have a competitive energy and push each other, like from the first day they both wanted to prove they were the better actor. Don't remember the exact bit but he was imitating how they were sizing each other up like "he thinks he's the lead but I'm better than him, oh okay he's good." :P

- Some more Memori cuteness -- he went through a long answer about whether various characters would be good at beer pong or not. (Monty: good at beer pong. Octavia: bad at beer pong. Clarke: very bad. Murphy: possibly good but his anger gets in the way. Echo: no, ranged weapons are not the same as beer pong.) And finally settled on Emori being the person he'd partner with on the show just as he did with Luisa IRL -- because she's a thief and has quick fingers, she'd be very good.

- He cited Murphy's scene begging for Emori in "God Complex" as his most challenging scene, along with the beginning of season three. He answered the same question at the meet & greet and later on the panel about what Murphy would've done if she had died - he has no doubt he would have killed Clarke or she’d have to kill him first.

- About the bunker scene in 3x01 - there was a lot of improvisation and him just doing whatever came to him and going crazy. It was his idea to pour the bottle of wine over his head, and that was a MISTAKE because then he was all sticky and they had to fix it in hair and makeup. They called cut and he was immediately like "ohhh I'm so sorry, I got too into it." Some joking about how Murphy just remained sticky for the rest of his time in the bunker.

- Favorite episode he said was 2x11 but meant 2x12 -- Murphy and Jaha in the desert is his favorite storyline. He loved the line "Faith? Nah, I just got nothing better to do."

- He really regrets that Murphy never got to have a moment reacting to Jaha's death. They had such an important relationship where he hated him but also had this weird father/son dynamic, even though he'd killed his father... It wouldn't even need to be a whole scene, just "someone tells me Jaha didn't make it and I could just have a look, let me play that."

- Another regret: in season 3 he wanted the stuff with Ontari to go differently, he liked the idea that she represented a dark side for Murphy, just being the kind of person who takes whatever she wants and doesn't have morals and there's something he actually likes in that, and meanwhile Emori is his light and hope of having another chance. But they didn't really explore that. He often has to remember he's like in the C-storyline and there's other stuff going on with the leads.

- On how Murphy will respond to Monty and Harper's death, he said Murphy doesn't like to feel indebted to people and he'd be upset that Monty had just saved his life and he doesn't think he knew how much Murphy respected and cared about him. [That may or may not actually come into play onscreen or with Jordan, he suggested that Murphy's kind of wary and annoyed by Jordan because he's annoyed by everyone.]

Non-Spoilery S6 Spoilers

- I asked him about Murphy's mental health in season six. He said there will be more of that, not because he's dealing with it but that he's adding *new* problems. O_O

- One of the fans said she sees Murphy as symbolizing the whole of the show because he's all about surviving and it's something the audience relates to also. He said something about how "how far is he willing to go to survive" is a running theme for Murphy specifically and in season six we'll see an answer to that question.

- They're not really gonna show any more of what happened in the six years, they're past that. (lights a candle in mourning for the spacekru flashbacks I never got siiigh.)

- A girl talked about how she loves Clarke and Murphy and always wants them to be friends, and Richard was like LOL ENJOY SEASON SIX implying they will... probably not be that. ;) He did give a legit answer to her question about how they are similar characters, and he thinks part of why they haven't been friends is Murphy just initially didn't like her and associated her with the ruling class on the Ark, where he had been locked up since he was like 10. Anyway he told the Clarke/Murphy Friendship girl that it will be hard but she also might like it, because Clarke and Murphy's relationship and how they feel about each other is central to this season.

- He was *pissed* (his words) about something that got cut from the first episode in season six -- it was just a small thing at the end of a scene, it sounded like it was related to Murphy and Jordan, but he was just really frustrated that it was in there and then cut. He'll say what it was after the episode airs. And then there was something else in season six (!) where he had to film a much longer & difficult scene and they edited it down a lot. He says Jason promised him they would make the full version available somewhere. (Nicole says: I will believe this when I see it, and also I'll know what the hell he's talking about when I see it.)

#richard harmon #the 100 #john murphy #conageddon #memori #that boy's a fighter #cute for a thief

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gellavonhamster · 6 years ago

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the eye of the storm, or a still life with pineapples

teen and up audiences (?) || Bertrand Baudelaire/Beatrice Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket + guest starring other ships and characters || pre-canon, canon divergence

ao3 link || originally posted in Russian

As famously said by a famous cartoonist and later by an even more famous musician and before them, probably, by many other famous and not so famous people, life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. For example, less than half a year ago I was certain that in a little while, I would marry the woman I love, and dance with her at our wedding, which would be held in a place called the Vineyard of Fragrant Grapes. A few months passed, and here I was dancing at the wedding indeed, but not as a groom and not with the woman I dreamed to marry. However, she was also attending the party, and radiating beauty in her refined wedding dress just like in my erstwhile dreams. It was her wedding – her and another man’s, and I didn’t doubt that many guests were surprised I was invited and, on top of that, entrusted with reciting one of the wedding blessings. Then again, there weren’t that many guests: only the trusted long-time associates, most of whom both the newlyweds and I had the honour to consider our friends. Some of them were familiar with the events which had resulted in my bride marrying someone else; as to the rest of them, I hoped they were too well-mannered to whisper behind my back. On the other hand, if they decided to spread some gossip, I would not have minded it much. In these latter days, all kinds of things were being whispered about me behind my back, said out loud, and printed in the newspapers. If I had a chance to choose between the discussions of my love life and the accusations of crimes I had nothing to do with, I would have chosen the former without a moment’s hesitation. Unfortunately, in practice, there were two options: either both the former and the latter or just the latter, and I had no choice anyway.

Even the celebration venue was not what I had expected. The Vineyard of Fragrant Grapes was undoubtedly very lovely at that time of the year, but just like many other gardens, libraries, restaurants, post offices, bookstores, and tailor shops, it had lately become unsafe for the members of our organization. It was far too risky to organize the wedding in a widely known place. That was why the ceremony itself, as well as the celebratory banquet, took place in a small hotel outside the City. It was called The Eye of the Storm, and that name was more than appropriate. “The eye of the storm” is an expression which means an area of calm weather at the centre of a hurricane, both literally and figuratively, and so the present celebration seemed a calm moment at the centre of the hurricane of feuds and treachery that was raging in my life, as well as in the lives of the groom, the bride, and all the guests. An attentive visitor would also notice another eye – the motif used in the design of the hotel, from napkin rings to the moulding on the ceiling. To paraphrase the definition provided above, one could say that the eye of the storm is an area at the centre of a hurricane where the world is quiet.

“Snicket, wake up!” called the lady I was dancing with. “Do you want us to bump into someone?”

“Sorry. I got lost in thought. And we wouldn’t have bumped into anyone: you’re the lead.”

“And good thing that I am. For a moment I felt like I was dancing with a coat rack or something like that. You alright?”

“Of course I am, R,” I smiled at my partner who was none other than R, the Duchess of Winnipeg. “How about you?”

“I’m fine, L. You know me,” she smiled back, but I saw it in her eyes that just like me, she couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting to the bride, who was dancing with her beloved in the centre of the ballroom. “It’s been long since I’ve come to terms with the fact that this is how it’s going to end. It’s only that when I used to imagine all of this before, it was you, not Bertrand, and it was easier somehow. But it’s nothing.”

When I first met R, she was yet to become the duchess and the renowned meteorologist and the multiple fencing champion of VFD. Back then she was just the daughter of the previous Duchess of Winnipeg, now deceased; just a little girl who had just got her volunteer’s tattoo and, being confused and a little bit scared, went to explore the infirmary in search of someone who would explain to her where she was, why she was taken away from home, and where her parents were. That evening, she didn’t find the answers to all of her questions, but she found a little boy – me – who, like her, had just been tattooed and didn’t understand what was going on. We were already friends when we met Beatrice, the woman whose wedding we were dancing at today. When we understood that both of us were in love with her, we promised each other that we wouldn’t let that circumstance ruin our friendship. There is an absorbing Gothic novel in which three friends propose to the same girl, and remain friends after she chooses one of them. Similarly, my friend and I both courted Beatrice, leaving it up to her to choose one of us and not expecting that in the end, just like in that novel, there would be three contenders for her heart, and it would be the third one that she would favour. One could only hope that at that point, the similarities with the novel would end, although taking into account Beatrice’s fondness for bats, she would surely be amused by the prospect of being turned into a vampire.

“I do know you, R,” I confirmed. “And that is exactly why I am worried.”

“Oh, come on. If you want to know, today I feel much better than over the last two months combined. Look around, L: even in these trying times we’re surrounded by noble and trustworthy people. My dear friend got married and is happy. I am dancing at her wedding in a wonderful dress and in an excellent company, and who knows,” she winked at me, “perhaps it’s in that excellent company that I’ll meet someone who would help me to let go of the past at last.”

“You will meet – or you have met?” I asked, intrigued. My friend smiled cryptically. “Who is she?”

“Look to your left. See a beautiful girl in a peach dress standing by the window?”

The girl was beautiful indeed. Something about the features of her face seemed familiar to me but I didn’t know her name, which was what I told R.

“Sally Sebald,” she told me, with the same conspiratorial look. “The little sister of Gustav, our Monty’s new… assistant.”

If “our Monty” had heard the way R had spoken the word “assistant”, he would have definitely pretended to be offended to the marrow of his bones. However, at that moment he was busy dancing with that very assistant. The music stopped, and the band bowed in response to the applause, then proceeded to flip through the sheets, selecting the next piece to play.

“I’ll leave you for a while,” R announced. “I must ask her for a dance. Promise me you won’t just stand by yourself ruining everyone’s mood with your long face.”

“I promise. Go for it,” I squeezed her hand, wishing her luck. “And I’ll go grab a bite.”

With that, I made my way to the cold table at the opposite end of the ballroom. “Cold table” is an expression which here means “a buffet-style table with the dishes that the guests are expected to help themselves to” not a table that is cold to touch, although I couldn’t have had any idea if that particular table was cold to touch before I ever touched it. As I was eating mushroom tartlets, I watched the dancers. Here was my brother waltzing with Olivia Caliban, and there was my sister, talking animatedly about something to her partner during the dance – and looking, as I was pleased to notice, like after all the recent troubles and worries she was finally at peace. Some of the guests might have been watching her too and wondering who she was dancing with: Frank or Ernest? That was, of course, the wrong question, while the right question would have been “How many Denouement brothers are there, actually?” I shifted my gaze to R, who was dancing with Gustav’s sister, then to Gustav and Monty and then to Ike and Josephine Anwhistle and so, looking over the dancing couples one by one, I finally met Beatrice’s eyes as she looked at me over her husband’s shoulder. My heart sank. That ballroom was full of people I held in great affection, and still I had to abandon them tomorrow, to flee abroad in order to save myself and everyone who was closely associated with me and could get in the firing line because of that. I didn’t know when I would see all of them again. Just the thought of it made me suffocate with grief.

“Snicket,” someone said. I turned around. There was a woman standing next to me, one that was different from the other guests for two reasons. Firstly, most of the invitees were the same age as the bride and the groom, while this woman was much older. Secondly, I have never met anyone with a hair as thick, long, and unruly, presently already greying. Even if she had tried to arrange it in some sort of a hairdo on the occasion of the party, all the pins and clips clearly were already lost, unable to tame this natural disaster. “Do you mind?”

“An interesting question. For a well-mannered person, there’s only one answer to it,” I observed, “which could be in equal measure correct or incorrect depending on how much…”

“Snicket,” my chaperone interrupted me, annoyed, “I asked because you’re standing by yourself ruining everyone’s mood with your long face. If you’re fine with being in such condition, I can leave you alone.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Theodora,” I objected. “Shall I pass you something? The salmon sandwiches are really good.”

“Thank you, I’ve enough for now,” she showed me a full plate. For some time we stood there eating and not saying a word, enjoying the music, the meal, and, to the lesser extent, each other’s company. Finally, Theodora said what she apparently wanted to say from the start.

“I grew wary when I saw you here, quite honestly,” she began. “I knew you were invited, as astonishing as it may be, but I was still surprised you’ve showed up. I’ll admit I feared that at the last moment you’d… pull some trick. I even told Bertrand about it, but he just waved it aside.”

“Well, that just proves the student has surpassed the teacher when it comes to getting other people,” I shrugged. “I suppose you wouldn’t trust me, but I didn’t even think of ruining the ceremony. Believe it or not, I sincerely wish Bertrand and Beatrice nothing but happiness.”

“You’re a peculiar person, Snicket.”

“Am I? I thought I am insufferable and lack respect for my elders.”

“And that, too. It won’t ever cease to amaze me that you and Bertrand hit it off.”

My brain instantly came up with a couple of presumably witty responses concerning how well we hit it off indeed – the champagne might’ve been to blame – but I restrained myself. There were some things she’d better stay unaware of.

“Life is full of surprises,” I observed instead. Theodora looked at me dubiously.

“I’d like to believe you’re telling the truth,” she said. “That you really came here to congratulate them on their marriage, and not to wallow in self-pity or make them doubt they made the right choice. You’re a peculiar person, Snicket, and that is precisely why I feel I really might be right to believe that. Care to ask the old hag for a dance?”

“With pleasure,” I agreed. This conversation was somewhat upsetting me, and it appeared I was already failing to keep the promise I gave R anyway. “May I have this dance, Theodora?”

The look on her face told me she was expecting some other answer, in which I would have pointed out, for instance, that I see no old hags here, but she still gave me her hand, and we went dancing.

***

The celebration ended late into the night. Many kind words were said to the bridal couple, many wonderful songs were sung, and the young Quagmire, evidently inspired by the example of his friend Bertrand, seized the moment to propose to his beloved. Finally the time came for everyone to head home. I was hanging around the hotel lobby and making my adieus to the guests: some of them were waiting for their taxis to arrive while some preferred to make use of the secret tunnel that connected The Eye of the Storm to a number of VFD buildings in the City. I was bidding farewell to my friends: sometimes a handshake, sometimes an embrace, and sometimes simply an exchange of phrases which would’ve seemed nonsensical to the uninitiated. My future appeared to me full of uncertainty and loneliness, and the volunteer’s work kept becoming more and more dangerous with every passing day. If I was destined to never meet my comrades again, then I wanted to remember them precisely the way they were that evening: happy, content, elegantly dressed, and with a newly found confidence that we may still be bound to witness the victory of nobility, valour, and erudition over cunning, avarice, and bad taste.

“We’ll meet you by the road junction at nine,” my brother said, clapping me on the shoulder. He was obviously worried. I didn’t want him to worry about me – I was doing that myself just fine. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave earlier? You could get there in time to catch the…”

“It is highly likely that our enemies have infiltrated the crew of the Prospero. You know that yourself,” I didn’t let him finish. “I’ll take the train. Don’t fret about me, Jacques. Better try to get some sleep. Or…” I cast a sidelong look at Olivia, who was standing nearby and apparently waiting for my brother, “spend the time until morning the way you see fit.”

It was twilight outside The Eye of the Storm, but I had no doubts Jacques blushed.

“You’re taking a lot of risk, L,” he said, displeased. “Are you sure it’s worth it? After all, everything has changed now…”

“I know,” I said. Deep down, I wasn’t sure indeed if it was a good idea. If it was appropriate now, no matter how much we wanted to believe it was. But I couldn’t act differently. Firstly, I had given a promise. Secondly, if I changed my mind, then – who knows – I might miss the last chance to feel happy that I’d get in my life. “I am only sure that if I leave now, I am going to regret it. See you tomorrow, Jacques.”

He frowned but said nothing more and, after hugging me once again, got into the car and left. I headed back to The Eye of the Storm. My brother and Olivia were the last ones to leave; presently the only ones staying at the hotel were the employees and the newlyweds. I sneaked a look into the ballroom and saw them talking about something to the hotel owner. The bride laughed at something and took her groom – her husband – by the hand. I was standing there in the dusk and thinking: what if my brother was right? Wouldn’t it be better for me to leave before it’s too late – just like that, without saying goodbye? I shook my head, chasing these thoughts away as if they were circling me like Snow Gnats, and hurried to the second floor. At the very beginning of the corridor, a bored-looking hall porter was sitting on a chair and cleaning his nails. I approached him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Baudelaire are wondering if the still life with pineapples displayed in the ballroom is for sale,” I said.

The hall porter raised his head to look at me.

“Unfortunately it isn’t. It’s the only thing our owner has to remember his late grandmother by,” he replied, and gave me the key from the luxury suite. There was no further conversation between us; I took the key and headed to the suite.

I entered the room, closed the door behind me, and looked around. As it is commonly known, luxury accommodations differ from the regular hotel rooms in the number of amenities and the refinement of the furnishings. In the present case, one of the indisputable advantages of this suite in comparison to the other rooms was a bookcase with a great number of books on its shelves. I looked over the room, checking, among other things, the presence of weapons and fire extinguishing tools hidden under the bed in the event of the enemies of the bridal couple finding out where the wedding was taking place and deciding to pay a visit. Then I took a collection of poems by Oscar Wilde from one of the shelves and immersed myself in reading, hoping for once I wouldn’t get much time for that.

Indeed, I didn’t have to wait for long. There was the sound of steps and voices, and the just married burst into the room – it struck my eye that they were still holding hands. They didn’t notice me because as soon as Mr. Baudelaire shut the door behind him, Mrs. Baudelaire pinned him against that very door and kissed him. Since she threw off her high-heeled shoes the moment she ran into the room, she had to stand on tiptoe to kiss him, which looked absolutely adorable.

I watched those two who had clearly forgotten at that moment about the world around. Without a doubt, the Baudelaires were a beautiful couple. Beatrice was lovely even wearing an old tracksuit covered in dirt after the annual orienteering competition held in the city sewers – presently, in a white and golden wedding dress, she looked like an angel. Bertrand, handsome and well-built, looked dapper in a cream-coloured suit with a tea rose on the lapel. I was feasting my eyes on the both of them, all the while racked by doubts as to whether I’d better withdraw through the window before they noticed me. I even started to reflect on how wide the windowsills of The Eye of the Storm were, but then the Baudelaire spouses pulled away from each other and finally realized they were not alone in the room. My presence did not surprise them in the slightest.

“You’re here,” Beatrice said, and her face lit up with such joy that I shook all the thoughts about the windowsills out of my head.

I put the book back on the shelf.

“I asked the hall porter about the painting with pineapples,” I said. “It is not for sale.”

“What a pity,” Beatrice replied merrily, ran up to me, and kissed me on the lips.

I was not destined to tie the knot and start a family. When I was engaged to Beatrice, I tried to ignore the thought of it but it was always with me, in some hidden corner of my mind. It was there when Beatrice accepted my proposal and in the early days of our relationship and when I was twelve years old and Theodora was telling me that her previous apprentice, the same young man who was half-smiling now as he watched me kiss his wife, would become a husband and a father, while all that awaited me was loneliness. I was not destined to find the happiness harped on about by writers and telenovela characters and the designers of those advertisement posters that featured parents and two children, always a boy and a girl, carelessly consuming cereals or ice cream. But I knew happiness of another kind, and while the creators of cereal advertisements would hardly be able to appreciate it, I suspected that some writers could have understood me. I was kissing the woman that wasn’t mine in the eyes of the law and the society yet still was mine as much as I was hers – that is to say, with all her heart and all her soul – and I was happy. That was more than enough.

Beatrice pulled away from my lips.

“I was mad the whole evening I couldn’t just come up to you for no special reason,” she told me. “Couldn’t dance with you, not even once.”

“It is important that as many people as possible are sure we’re not together anymore,” I reminded her. “You have plenty of your own enemies, Beatrice. You shouldn’t have to deal with mine to boot.”

“I refuse to believe that any single one of the people who were here today…” she started, but stopped short. Perhaps she remembered how fragile the bonds of friendship can be, and in how much danger they can be put both by ambition and the sense of duty. Perhaps she remembered about the family whose manor she used to visit as a child and about a night at the opera and the poison darts; about the articles in The Daily Punctilio and the stolen sugar bowl. I pulled her close. I didn’t want her to think about those things on the day of her wedding.

Bertrand coughed. I met his eyes, and felt Beatrice softly push me away. It occurred to me that kissing the wife right in front of her husband’s eyes is extremely improper, so when he approached me I decided to atone for my behaviour, and kissed him too. If Beatrice always kissed with all the fervour of the woman who could fight off a giant eagle with her bare hands, then Bertrand always did it with all the thoroughness of the man who enters a lions’ cage without fear because he has studied their habits in all detail and thought out all the actions required in case the situation gets out of control. I didn’t see Beatrice’s face the moment my lips touched Bertrand’s, but I knew she was smiling.

I ran my hand over his chest and felt for the tea rose.

“Been wondering all evening if it’s natural or not,” I said. My head was spinning. I still hadn’t fully got used to the effect these two had upon me, and this might have been our last night together.

“Artificial,” Bertrand said, took the flower out of the buttonhole, and put it into my pocket. “Take it. As a keepsake of this day.”

“Thank you,” I said. As I was looking at him, I hoped yet again that if Beatrice’s children (who were bound to be born one day: she’s always wanted to become a mother) take after their father, they’ll inherit Bertrand’s features, not mine. I wouldn’t mind to pass on the colour of my eyes or my hair, but certainly not my innate tendency to corpulence that created certain inconveniences when it was necessary, for instance, to exit the building through the basement window. As to Bertrand, he was outrageously good-looking from head to toe – I remembered vividly how it used to annoy me back when I had just met him. I used to be itching to hit him even though he never actually provoked me in any way. I didn’t want to admit for a long time that what was hiding behind that was simply the longing to touch him. “But I think that can wait. I am not leaving yet, after all.”

“Will you stay till morning?” Beatrice asked hopefully.

“I am to meet Jacques and Kit by the road junction a mile from The Eye of the Storm at nine o’clock. They’ll take me to the railway station – not the nearest one, but the one after – where I shall board the train at nine twenty-nine.”

“It’s five minutes to two now,” Bertrand observed, glancing at his wristwatch.

“About seven hours,” Beatrice said, taking a step towards Bertrand and me, and put her hand on my cheek. “Almost the whole night.”

“Your wedding night, by the way,” I reminded. “Are you sure that…”

“Lemony Snicket,” she interrupted me petulantly, and slapped me on the lips lightly with the tips of her fingers, “yes, we are sure, we’ve discussed all that more than once, we told you the password that got you the key to our room for a reason. If the world was simpler and quieter, you would’ve been getting married today as well. Consider this as your wedding night too. And before you’ve managed to make some other silly statement: yes, we’ve discussed that as well.”

I looked at Bertrand. He nodded without thinking twice.

“The fact that Beatrice and I are married now doesn’t change a thing,” he said. “Remember that when you return to the City. You will return one day, won’t you, Snicket?”

I was about to answer honestly, “I don’t know”, but I just couldn’t.

“I’ll try to,” I said. That was also true. I would have given anything not to leave the people I loved more than anything else in the world, but since I had no other choice, all that was left to me was to make every effort to come back to them sooner or later.

“All right,” Beatrice said. “All right,” she repeated, and it seemed to me I saw tears glisten in her eyes and I felt scared. She stopped me with a motion of her hand before I could say anything to her. “We’ll talk about that later. Are you feeling sleepy?”

“Are you suggesting I go to sleep, Beatrice?”

“I suggest you accept that you’ll only get to sleep on the train.”

With that she pushed me to the bed – a large bed, the kind that three people would fit on with ease. Beatrice moved towards me and I moved back until I fell on my back right on the blanket. Beatrice lifted her skirt a little and climbed first onto the bed, and then on top of me.

“Careful, Snicket,” Bertrand said as he noticed that my hands slid under her skirt. He sat on the bed and bent over me. “She’s got a dagger in her garter. Sheathed, of course, but you never know.”

I grabbed the tip of his necktie and pulled him closer.

“How interesting,” I said. Beatrice was straddling me, rising a little and then pressing herself to me again, and I was moving towards her in sync. “Do you also have anything hidden underneath your clothes, Mr. Baudelaire?”

“See for yourself,” Bertrand offered, and kissed me.

The storm was raging outside the hotel, yet only figuratively. Clouds were gathering over all the fearless and well-read people who have dedicated their lives to science, literature, and keeping the world quiet. But I and those two that I loved were in the eye of the storm: literally, because that was the name of the hotel, and figuratively, because that night we weren’t thinking about the schemes of our enemies and the everyday dangers that befell our friends. I was happy in a way the one whose beloved has just married someone else rarely is, and here, in the eye of the storm, nothing could take that happiness from me – at least not until the morning.

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #lemony snicket #beatrice baudelaire #bertrand baudelaire #duchess of winnipeg #s. theodora markson #jacques snicket #lemonberry ice #beatrice x r #snicketverse #my fic #gella talks snicketverse #tbh i really didn't even try to fit it into canon timeline #i just wanted to write some light-hearted self-indulgent ot3 fic and i went for it

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