#did Kane really have to go that extra mile? probably not

[captcutshaw]

The greatest demonstration of love and human goodness in Blatty's faith trilogy isn't Kane killing himself for Cutshaw, nor is it Karras killing himself (twice), it's that bit where Kinderman gets Dyer a penguin plushie. Peace and love on planet earth

[theclassycandy]

Fluff Alphabet - Beckett x Anna

Word Count (Including the questions): 2075

A/N: Hi friends! I just really wanted to manifest the fluff energy into something! Some of these are are lot longer than others. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Tags: @miss-smrxtiee , @holystxne, @adam-dumortains , @herarmoredheart , @ilikeyellingatmyscreen

Tell me if you want to be tagged for future fics/headcanons about TE!

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)- Anna and Beckett love everything about each other, but if you would force them to pick their favorite Beckett would say her duality. It may sound weird but Anna is optimistic, a very sunny person in real life. She loves how happy and loved she makes him feel simply by existing. Though, one time he had walked in Anna’s meeting room during a company-wide crisis and Anna had the poise, eloquence, intelligence and leadership skills to get the job done under an excruciating amount of stress. This stunned Beckett (and left him very turned on) of Anna’s stature that demands respect; he always knew that she’s a force of nature when she needs to be. For what Anna loves about Beckett, she would say his passion. His passion for his career. His passion for awards. His passion and ambition. His passion for her. His passion wanting to be a better man. Even his passion when they’re in bed...

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)- 100000% yes. Beckett would absolutly love being a father of Anna’s children. Anna has wanted to be a mother for as long as she could remember. Especially since she really wants a family of her own with Beckett.  

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)- They like cuddling whenever they need to when they’re alone. But they like to do it best naked in bed, after doing something sexual. Anna loves to intertwine her legs with Beckett's legs and laying her head on Beckett’s chest, giving him kisses right above his heart. Beckett loves wrapping his arms around her, cradling Anna’s head and lovingly kissing the top of her head. 

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)- Before they graduated they’re dates were low-key but still filled with love. But since they’ve become public figures and the public eye is always on them, they have more high-class, really expensive dates. Though whoever is the one responsible for planning the date they’ll make some sort of extra mile to make their dates special. 

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))- For Beckett, Anna calls says “you’re the love of my life” to Beckett. For Anna, Beckett would say “you’re my amazing sunshine” to her and whenever they say that to each other the break out in loving and wide smiles.

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)- Beckett can’t pinpoint exactly when he fell in love with Anna since it’s probably like, before their first year of Penderghast ended. The word “love” first came to mind when he thought of Anna when they played hooky and skipped class (book 2 chapter 6) but quickly extinguished the thought out of fear that she probably thinks of him as just a friend with benefits. He remembers wanting to say it for the first time when Kane had kidnapped Anna and he was desperate to make a portal to her no matter if it killed him. For Anna she knew she loved him the moment he called out Kane after one of his minions put an illusion spell on her and Beckett went all ‘over-protective boyfriend’ (book 2 chapter 9) and they weren’t even dating at the time!

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)- One of the biggest reasons why Beckett fell for Anna is because she is a great listener and very empathetic when it came to his family issues (like in book 2 chapter 2 when Beckett was upset because of Katrina’s professor position). Her kindness and gentle nature towards not just him, but to others makes his heart flutter every time, often caught staring at her in amazement. Beckett, on the other hand isn’t the most gentle person to others. But Anna feels special, knowing she’s the only person on this planet who sees Beckett’s thoughtful, sweet and romantic side. The way he cups her face and gazes in her eyes, how much effort he puts into their dates, the way he worships her with even the smallest of touches. Anna absolutely loves this incredible man that she’s fallen for, and at various times wonders what she did to deserve him. 

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?)- They hold hands whenever they can. When they go out on family dinners, especially Anna’s family they’ll joke it’s glued together. For Beckett’s family, since most of his family gathering are fucking full-on galas, the extended family will sometimes gossip about them. They’re really excited for Anna to join the family but that’s mostly because of her luxurious and and elegant public image and the prestige she’ll bring to the family name, they do know that she makes Beckett happy, though. 

I = Impression (first impression/s)- As we all know, Beckett was really fucking rude when they first met, and Anna hated him. For Beckett he was obviously rude, but he was secretly intimidated by her, because her could feel her magickal potential the moment she landed on campus. If only they knew back then how much they would mean to each other later in life...

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)- They actually don’t play pranks on each other at all but Anna jokes around with him constantly. Beckett adores Anna’s sense of humour and that he can make him feel better and laugh even on the most stressful of days. Though, Anna plays pranks on the rest of the PendPals, even after their graduation! Beckett says “I’m opposed to joining in on this nonsense” but let’s honest, Anna is his biggest weakness so he’ll join and help her and even get a laugh form it himself. 

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)- They kiss whenever they want to want. Whether it be a quick kiss when the other needs to leave or kissing like their lives depend on it, pushing each other on the nearest surface, getting their clothes off. They’re both amazing kissers. They both love when they lose their inhibitions and they kiss. The moans, the tiny gasps and gripping each other’s clothes. 

  L = Love (who says I love you first?)- Beckett said “I love you” first on their last day of their second year at Penderghast. He couldn’t keep it in anymore and he needed to say before they parted for summer break again. Anna was overjoyed that Beckett said the 3 little words and when she said them back, the both of them felt both elated and sad. Elated because they confessed their immense for each other and sad because they had to leave for summer break the next day. 

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)- I don’t think they’ll be able to choose, so I’m just gonna list them. 

- The first time they slept together (book 1 chapter 15)

- When Beckett healed Anna after falling in the mirror dimension (book 1 chapter 11)

- Anna’s birthday (book 1 chapter 14)

- When Anna came to visit Beckett in the medical ward (book 2 chapter 12) 

- When they said I love you to each other for the first time (book 2 chapter 17)

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)- People ask “would you rather sentimental gifts or expensive gifts?” but for Anna and Beckett; who are some of the most richest and most famous people in the world, why not both? Anna likes to design luxury watches for Beckett every once in a while for a gift with loving messages engraved inside. Beckett loves gifting her experience, like trips all over the world on Anna’s private jets. 

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)- Yellow, gold and light pink remind Beckett of Anna, because yellow and gold represent sunlight and Anna’s Beckett sunshine. And light pink because it’s Anna’s favorite colour. Gray, sliver and dark blue remind Anna of Beckett. Dark blue because that was the colour of Becket’s blazer when they were in college. Silver reminds her of his metal attunement and gray is the colour of his deep eyes. 

  P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)- They will call each other baby, sweetie, sweetheart or call each other they’re last names. After they got married Anna’s full name is now Anna Yoon-Harrington but they both love it when Beckett just calls her Mrs. Harrington. (Beckett gets really horny when Anna calls him Mr. Harrington in bed but you didn’t hear that from me...) 

Q = Questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)- They will often ask each other how much they love each other and what they love about each other. Sometimes they’ll ask each other when they’re just relaxing together, when the other is feeling down, or just because! They love being in love with each other. 

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)- They’ll just stay inside and have a low-key night with each other, get some takeout, and watch some TV. They might get some work in and maybe even workout together but Anna bought her own personal gym for more intense exercises and Beckett does very calming yoga. 

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)- Beckett will wrap her up in his arms and comforts her, saying that he loves her and that she’ll be able to figure it out. When Beckett feels sad, Anna will just be near him in case he wants to talk about it. She’ll cook one of his favorite meals or order something. They both also love comfort, loving sex to make the both of them feel better. 

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)- Beckett loves talking about his studies and new discoveries in his research. He owns one of the biggest and technologically-advance research centres in the world. Anna often visits him, whether it’s because she misses him or because of work, since the both of them are in science but Beckett advances magick (mostly ward and portal magick) and Anna is in tech. But above all, his favorite thing to learn is all about Anna. Learning about her makes him so happy, wanting to memorise and learn everything about her. What she loves, what her plans are for the future and what makes her happy. 

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax? Include a headcanon!)- For the both of them, the others mere presence is enough to comfort them, even if they’re even not talking. When they were seniors in Penderghast, Beckett had his finals and he was beyond stressed. But when Anna sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around neck and laid her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her waist, he had never been so calm during studying! 

  W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)- Beckett proposes on one of their international dates about a year and a half after they graduate. (They’ll both be around 23-24) He’s kind of scared because they’re both so young but deep down in his heart, Anna and him being soulmates is a 10000000% certainty. (I might do a wedding/proposal fic in the future!) 

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)- “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is their song. One time Anna sang the song softly when she thought he was asleep while she was caressing his cheek but he could hear her singing the entire time. Beckett had never heard such a beautiful and ethereal-sounding voice.  

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)- Beckett said “You’re the key to my heart” once to Anna, not realizing how cheesy it is so Anna will repeat it from time to time, as a way to tease him. But in reality, her heart absolutely melts and she breaks out into such a large smile that her jaw starts to hurt every time she thinks of it. 

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)- Anna’s lumien, Solar, already lives with them though Anna would love a small kitten. Solar and Navi (Atlas’ familiar) already have play mates every time Anna and Atlas meet. 

That’s the end for the fluff alphabet! I hope you enjoyed it!

[alyssawritesssfics]

Hounded [3] 3. Earth Kills

Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: violence, series spoilers

Summary: When trapped in a cave together, Athena sees a new side of Bellamy. One that she might actually like.

Author’s Note: Hii, I’m back with the third chapter/episode. The cave scene has been my favourite to write thus far (I know, we’re only on episode three) and I hope you enjoy it too! Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you! PS. If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please send me an ask with your @ and I will add you to my list!

previous chapter // series masterlist

The following day I found myself behind the dropship, collecting more wood for fires. We had returned to camp with the large cat Wells had killed, Bellamy using everyone’s hunger as a way to get them to remove their wristbands. I was able to hold out, sneaking some food once everyone had piled into the dropship for the night.

I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Jasper spent most of it groaning in pain, while the other delinquents yelled for him to shut up. The groaning was still going on, though I’d begun to tune it out for the most part.

Grabbing my pile of wood, I headed around the dropship and towards the fire, dropping it all into the pile Wells had started earlier. Just as the wood fell to the ground, the sound of screaming filled my ears.

I ran towards the dropship, climbing the ladder to the top floor and shoving the door open.

“Hold him still, I need to cut away the infected flesh.” Clarke held a knife in her hand, while Monty, Wells and Finn held Jasper down.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” I asked.

Octavia soon climbed through the door, standing at my side. “Stop it! You’re killing him.”

“She’s trying to save his life.” Finn rolled his eyes.

“She can’t,” Bellamy spoke, joining us on the top floor. “Look at him, he might as well be dead already.”

Wells stood up, stepping in front of Bellamy. “Back off.”

“We didn’t drag him through miles of woods just to let him die,” Clarke said.

“He’s making us all crazy, Clarke,” I spoke up.

“This isn’t the Ark, Athena.” Clarke snapped. “Down here, every life matters.”

I shook my head. “I’m not saying his life doesn’t matter. Just look at him, he’s suffering. He’s not going to make it.”

Clarke shook her head, her eyes meeting Octavia’s. “Octavia, I’ve spent my whole life watching my mother heal people. If I say there’s hope, there’s hope.”

“This isn’t about hope, it’s about guts,” Bellamy said. “You don’t have the guts to make the hard choices. I do. He’s been like this for three days. If he’s not better by tomorrow, I’ll kill him myself.”

I kicked my feet and bit my lower lip, catching Wells’ eyes. “Athena, come on. You can’t be on his side.”

“I’m sorry, but I am,” I said, my eyes fixed on the metal floor beneath me. “The longer you four play doctor, the more he���s suffering for nothing. It’s time to let go.”

Bellamy and I turned to leave. “Come on, O.” He said.

“I’m staying here.”

Bellamy shook his head, climbing back down the ladder.

I turned to the group. “I hope you guys are right about this, but if you’re not…” I trailed off, shaking my head and heading down the ladder myself.

...

Later that afternoon, I watched as a group prepped to go hunting. The sound of Jasper screaming in pain was starting to give me a headache and all I wanted to do was leave camp.

When I spotted Bellamy exit the dropship to join them, I rushed to his side.

“Hey, you guys are going hunting?”

He raised an eyebrow. “We are.”

“Good, I’m in.”

Bellamy shook his head, smirking. “You want to go hunting?”

I stepped in front of him, both of us coming to a complete stop. “Look, I can’t listen to Jasper anymore. I need to get out of here. Besides, an extra hand can’t hurt, can it?”

Looking me up and down, Bellamy sighed. “Do you know anything about hunting?”

“No, but I’m a quick learner.”

“As long as you don’t get in the way, sure you can come.”

I clapped my hands together. “Let’s go then.”

...

We had been hunting for a few hours before finally coming across a boar. It was plumb, enough meat on its bones to feed all of us tonight. My mouth was watering just thinking about how good it would taste.

Bellamy pressed his pointer finger to his lips. “Shh… She’s mine.”

I watched as he stepped closer and just as he was about to attack, a stick snapped behind us. Bellamy spun around, throwing his axe in the direction of the noise as the boar ran off. The rest of the group, aside from Atom ran after it, screaming like a bunch of idiots.

Turning around, I spotted a young blonde girl peeking out from behind a tree. Her eyes were wide as she looked at the axe which had hit the tree next to her head.

Bellamy dropped his hands to his sides. “Who the hell are you?”

“C-Charlotte.” The girl mumbled.

“He could’ve killed you.” I hissed, causing the girl to frown.

Bellamy sighed, stepping forward. “Why aren’t you back at camp?”

“The guy who is dying,” Charlotte spoke, her eyes fixed on the ground. “I just couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

I couldn’t help but let out a sigh. “You and me both,”

“There are grounders out here,” Atom spoke. “It’s not safe for a little girl.”

“I’m not little.”

Bellamy and I exchanged glances. “Well then,” Bellamy said, pulling a knife out of his pocket. “You can’t hunt without a weapon.” He handed Charlotte the knife. “Ever kill anything before?”

Charlotte shook her head.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll be good at it.” Bellamy smiled before turning around and heading off to find the others.

I smiled at her as well. “Come on,”

Charlotte and I followed Bellamy and Atom through the forest. We had yet to find the others when suddenly, a swarm of bugs flew past us.

“What the hell?” Atom asked.

Rats, which I had yet to see on the ground, began scurrying in the same direction the bugs had flown. I watched as a cloud of yellow began forming in front of us, a horn sounding in the air.

“That can’t be good.” I mumbled.

“Come on! There are caves this way.” Bellamy spoke, running off.

The three of us followed Bellamy, myself being sure to keep Charlotte within my reach. I watched as Atom tripped, though I didn’t stop. I just kept running until I too fell. 

My head connected with a rock, causing me to scream out in pain.

This is it. This is how I die.

Just as I accepted my fate, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the ground. “Charlotte, keep going!” It was Bellamy.

I tried my best to run, though Bellamy pulled me most of the way. Finally, we reached the cave and Bellamy let go of me, closing the entrance with a larger rock. I slid down the wall of the cave, pressing my hand to the back of my head.

“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked.

I nodded, removing my hand and examining the blood on it. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

“What happened to Atom?” Bellamy asked.

I looked away, unable to explain how I left him behind.

Bellamy sighed. “We should be safe here for the night.”

“Should be?” Charlotte asked.

“Will be,” I spoke up. “We will be safe here.”

Charlotte frowned, and I knew she believed that as much as I did.

...

We had been stuck in the cave for a while, Charlotte having fallen asleep. Bellamy inspected the wound on my head, touching it lightly. I let out a yelp, swatting his hand away.

He moved back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I spoke, my voice shaking. “Is it bad?”

“It looks like the bleeding has stopped at least. No sleeping for you though.”

I sighed. “Not like I’ve done much sleeping down here anyways.”

We were both silent for a few moments before finally, Bellamy cleared his throat. “Do you think everyone back at camp is okay?”

“I’m sure they are,” I said. “They probably all hid inside the dropship.”

“Safer there than here, I guess.”

“I was sure the fog would’ve slipped through a crack of this cave.” I looked over at Charlotte. “Poor kid probably didn’t expect to almost die twice today. She’s lucky your aim sucks.”

Bellamy chuckled. “It wasn’t bad considering I wasn’t looking in that direction.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that.” I smiled, before the thought of Atom filled my mind. “I left him behind…”

“What?”

“Atom,” I said. “I saw him fall. I could’ve stopped and helped him up, but I didn’t.”

Bellamy shook his head. “You were afraid.”

“And you weren’t?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “You ran back to save me. You shouldn’t have. You should’ve kept going.”

“What’s done is done, Athena. You can’t change it now, so learn from it, do better next time.” 

I nodded, my eyes beginning to flutter shut as a wave of exhaustion washed over me. “You almost sound like my father.”

Bellamy ignored my remark. “Hey, no sleeping, alright?”

“I’m tired.”

“Too bad,” Bellamy frowned. “Why did you get locked up?”

“What?”

“If you keep talking, you’ll stay awake. Tell me why you got locked up.”

I shook my head. “It was stupid.”

“How stupid?”

“Bellamy-”

“Athena.” His voice was stern.

I took a deep breath. “Someone I cared about, their father was sick. The Ark wouldn’t give him the medication he needed, so I stole it.” Bellamy’s eyes grew slightly wider. “I stole my mother’s keycard to get into the medicine cabinet and of course, they figured out it was me and thus I was arrested.”

“You must’ve really cared about that person,” Bellamy mumbled.

“He was like my second father,” I admitted. “I mean, you know how my dad is. When I started dating my boyfriend, his father was always nice to me. Always making sure I was okay, something my dad never really bothered to do.” I paused for a second, wiping my eyes. “I couldn’t just sit back and watch him die. Not after everything he’s done for me.”

Bellamy was silent for a moment. “Did he make it?”

“Yeah, he did.” I smiled. “Knowing that makes all of this worth it, as much as I wish I wasn’t down here right now. I would give anything to be able to see my mom again, hug her, tell her I love her.” I watched as Bellamy’s face fell. “Bellamy, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay.” He said, mustering up a small smile.

I shook my head. “No, It’s not. Nothing about what they do up there is okay.”

Just as Bellamy went to speak, Charlotte began tossing, letting out a small scream.

“Charlotte,” Bellamy spoke, rushing to her side. “Wake up.”

Charlotte shot up, panting. “I’m sorry.”

Bellamy frowned. “Does that happen often?”

Charlotte nodded.

“What are you scared of?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bellamy said. “The only thing that matters is what you do about it.”

I almost felt like he was talking to me as well.

“But, I’m asleep,” Charlotte mumbled.

“Fears are fears. Slay your demons while you’re awake, they won’t be able to get you while you sleep.”

“How?”

Bellamy looked over at me for a moment, before looking back to Charlotte. “You can’t afford to be weak. Down here, weakness is death. Let me see that knife I gave you.” Charlotte nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the knife. She handed it over to Bellamy, who squeezed the handle in his hand. “Now, when you feel afraid, you hold this knife tight and say ‘screw you, I’m not afraid’.”

He handed the knife back to Charlotte, who held onto the knife as tight as she could with both hands. “S-screw you, I’m not afraid.”

“Louder.”

Charlotte looked to me, and I nodded. “Screw you. I’m not afraid.”

Bellamy smiled, patting her on the shoulder. “Slay your demons kid, then you’ll be able to sleep.”

Charlotte nodded with a small smile. Still holding the knife in her hands, she rolled back over and fell back asleep. Bellamy made his way back over to me, sitting down with his back against the cave wall.

“I think I’m starting to see where Octavia gets it from,”

…

The following morning, Bellamy pushed the rock covering the cave opening out of the way. He stepped outside, looking around.

“It’s all clear,” He said before stepping out further. “Is anyone out here? Jones?”

“We’re here!” Jones called out.

I stood from my spot, my legs shaking under me. “It’s okay, Charlotte. We can head back to camp now.”

Charlotte nodded, standing up and following me out of the cave.

“Where’d you guys go?” Bellamy asked Jones.

“We made it to a cave down there,” Jones pointed to the West.

I stepped forward. “Did you guys see Atom?”

Jones shook his head, causing me to frown.

“We’ll find him,” Bellamy assured me. “Let’s head back to camp.”

…

Most of the walk back to camp was quiet, aside from the occasional call-out for Atom. We had yet to find him, a fact that was slowly driving me insane. I could feel my fingernails piercing the palm of my hands hidden under my jacket, surly drawing blood.

A hand landed on my shoulder, causing me to jump slightly.

“Sorry,” Bellamy said, looking me over. “You’ve been quiet, I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Last night had shown a different side of Bellamy I had never expected to see. I had half expected him to switch back to his douchebag persona the second we left that cave. Instead, here he was, asking if I was alright.

My cheeks began to heat up, causing me to focus on the ground underneath my feet. “I’ll feel a lot better once we find Atom.”

Bellamy nodded.

The rest of the group had fallen behind us, though Charlotte was so far ahead of us I could barely make out her silhouette through the trees. No matter how many times I had called out for her, she just kept going.

Charlotte finally disappeared from my sight and just a few moments later, her frightened screams rang out through the forest. Without hesitating, Bellamy and I sprung into action, running in her direction.

Before long we found her, standing over a body.

Atom.

“Oh my god,”

Bellamy moved closer, kneeling down and looking Atom over. He was covered in bloody boils and blisters, his skin looking as if it had been slowly burned away. His eyes were glossy, his pupils small. 

I placed my hand on Charlotte’s shoulder before making my way over to the two. Atom was shaking, stuttering incoherently. Finally, he was able to get out a few broken words: kill me, please.

Bellamy stood up, taking a few steps back as the rest of the group joined us. Stepping forward, Charlotte pulled out the knife Bellamy had given her earlier. She handed it to Bellamy and whispered, “Done be afraid.” 

Taking a deep breath, Bellamy cleared his throat. “All of you head back to camp. Charlotte, you too.”

The group dispersed, including Charlotte, though she was more reluctant to leave than rest had been. Bellamy eyed me, still standing just a few meters away.

“Bellamy, I can’t-”

“I know,” He spoke, nodding.

Bellamy knelt back down, holding the knife in his hand. I sat across from him on the other side of Atom, watching as Bellamy’s eyes shifted around. 

Atom spoke again through broken words, begging Bellamy to do it. I watched as Bellamy sat there, unable to move. Finally, I reached over, taking the hand he was holding the knife with in mine.

Bellamy looked up at me and for a second I could see tears welling in his blue eyes. I slowly slipped the knife out of his hand and into my own, pulling my hand away and placing it at my side.

“Athena-”

“I can do this,” Taking a deep breath, I looked down at Atom. “Okay, I’m going to help you. Just breathe, alright?”

I placed my free hand on Atom’s cheek, lightly brushing it with my thumb as I moved the knife towards the side of his neck. I slowly slid the blade into his skin, pulling it out just the same.

As Atom slowly bled out, I continued to comfort him as best as I could at that moment. Finally, Atom stopped moving and I knew he was gone. 

Looking up, I was met with Bellamy’s sorrowful eyes. It was at that moment that I realized I had been crying, a droplet of salt falling into my mouth. 

I quickly wiped my eyes with my free hand before wiping the bloody knife on the ground and handing it back to Bellamy. “We should get him back to camp, bury him with the others.”

…

Finn, Wells and Clarke had soon found us and helped us get Atom’s body back to camp. I hadn’t spoken the rest of the way back, knowing if I opened my mouth I would only start to cry again.

The camp gate was quickly opened upon our arrival, Clarke rushing ahead of us and demanding quick action in making Jasper’s medicine. Bellamy ordered a few of the delinquents to get Clarke anything she needed, while Wells headed off to dig a grave for Atom.

Across the camp, I watched as Octavia exited the dropship. She chatted with Clarke for a moment before her face sunk and she yanked herself away, rushing over to myself and Bellamy.

“Octavia, just stay back, please,” Bellamy commanded.

“Why?”

Octavia attempted to push past Bellamy, only to fail. Upon her second attempt, she managed to get past him, her eyes quickly falling on the body whose face was covered by a jacket. She got on her knees and looked at her brother before looking back to the jacket, slowly lifting it.

Octavia let out a small gasp, tears swelling in her eyes. “Atom.”

Bellamy frowned, reaching over to touch her. “There was nothing I could do.”

“Don’t!” Octavia hissed, shoving his hand away before standing up.

“O, please let me explain-”

“I said don’t.”

With that, Octavia ran off towards the dropship.

Soon Murphy approached, earning a sigh from Bellamy. “Did you lose anyone here today?” He asked.

“No.”

“Jasper?” I asked.

Murphy glared at me. “Still breathing, barely.” He turned his attention back to Bellamy. “I tried to take him out but your psycho little sister-”

Bellamy quickly shoved Murphy before grabbing the collar of his shirt.

“Bellamy-”

“My what?” Bellamy asked before raising his voice even more. “My what?”

“Your little sister,” Murphy mumbled, shoving Bellamy off of him.

Bellamy nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. My little sister. Got anything else you want to say about her?”

Murphy stared at Bellamy for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing, sorry.”

I watched as Bellamy looked Murphy up and down. Finally, he nodded his head towards Atom’s body. “Somebody get him out of here.”

With that, Bellamy stormed off towards his tent.

…

Later that evening I sat on the top level of the dropship where Jasper was resting. Finn took a swig of an old bottle of alcohol he had found before offering it to Monty. Monty refused, passing it to Octavia instead.

“Smooth.” He coughed.

Octavia took a sip, her face instantly crinkling. “Disgusting. I love it.”

She offered the bottle to me and I shook my head. “I’ve got guard duty later.”

“Can I, uh, get a hit of that?” A small voice spoke up.

We all looked over, Jasper’s head poking up slightly from the make-shift bed. He was smiling slightly, his eyes fixated on the bottle.

“Jasper!” Octavia cheered, rushing to his bedside.

Monty smiled, also rushing over. “Let’s start with the soft stuff.”

Finn and I joined the group. “Welcome back, buddy.”

“Was that a dream or did I get speared?”

“You’ll have a very impressive scar to prove it.” I turned my head, noticing Clarke had joined up. She was smiling, though I could tell she had been crying.

“My saviour.” Jasper smiled.

Clarke chuckled slightly. “Thank you for not dying. I don’t think I could’ve taken that today.”

“I’ll try not to die tomorrow too, if that’s cool.”

Clarke smiled, a newfound gleam in her eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

~

next chapter

[princesssarcastia]

in any other world (aka four ways veronica mars’ life could have ended up)

because i CANNOT get these ideas out of my head, goddammit.  whatever god gave me the plot bunny gene needs to take it back now.  anyway welcome to my veronica mars kick, 2020 edition. it’s another long one, boys, and readmores are for suckers.

1. just remember me when we used to be friends

them telling other people stories about each other (gia and whats-his-face wait another four weeks to kill carrie; logan is a thousand miles away with the best alibi in the world.  a movie!canon au

Cobb’s paranoia holds out an extra five weeks, and Logan is already on deployment when he and Gia sneak into Carrie Bishop’s home and electrocute her in her bathtub.  A troubled, drugged up starlet’s death is ruled a particularly gruesome suicide, and word doesn’t reach Logan until well after it happens.

Something about it doesn’t sit right with him, no matter that he predicted she’d end up here; something about it itches in the back of his mind, makes him want to reach for a phone he didn’t take with him when he shipped out and pull up a number he hasn’t dialed in nearly ten years.

But that’s ridiculous.  He writes it off as nostalgic product of a reunion he didn’t even go to, that he’s sure she didn’t, either, and gets back to work.  He’ll go brood and break down about Carrie when he’s off duty later, and let one of his squad-mates put a hand on his shoulder, and then move on.

He lets go of, Veronica, I need your help, and ignores the bone-deep certainty that she’d drop everything for that, after years and continents spanned and blood shed.

—

Meeting The Piznarskis is a surreal glimpse into a normal upbringing; the kind no one Veronica knew growing up ever got.   They’re kind, maternal and paternal people who unreservedly love their son and live simple lives.

And they seem to really like Veronica, which is good.  Piz keeps giving her beaming looks whenever his parents turn away, and her heart crawls deeper inside her in shame because all this clearly means so much more to him than it does to her.

She is keeping polite-society smiles on her face and using her tame, Normal Veronica anecdotes to entertain them instead of really opening up.  Is this how everyone is with their in-laws?  

These people will never know me, she thinks distantly as Mrs. Piznarski lays a hand on her arm and smiles as she inquires after her years at Stanford, and it is a comfort because she doesn’t want them to.  Doesn’t want to see their normal bubble pierced by the mud smeared all over her real history.

She starts keeping her polite-society smile on face in the apartment with Piz, too.

He doesn’t seem to notice.

—

She catches the tail end of Bonnie DeVille’s funeral on Hollywood Access at her favorite deli.  The volume is cranked up, probably so the guy at the counter can hear it over the crush of customers during lunch hour.  Which means that Veronica catches every unfortunate second of their coverage, vaguely familiar faces in the crowd drawing her attention back again and again.

Mentally giving up as a way to pass the time, Veronica compares faces to ten year old memories.  

Dick, Gia Goodman, Luke Holderman...some vaguely familiar schmuck...

She doesn’t even realize who she’s looking for until the correspondent mentions that DeVille’s last boyfriend, Logan Echolls, son of the late Aaron Echolls, is not in attendance because his current tour of duty with the Navy started just days before her death.

God, Logan.  Veronica bites back any kind of expression at the thought of Logan learning that his girlfriend committed suicide while high off her mind.  Even the media circus at the funeral is a bitterly familiar echo of what happened when Lynn died.

The thought of him lingers all the way to the front of the line and her brisk walk back to the office, until she finds her hands hovering over keys, debating whether she should look him up. Then one of the partners walks briskly past and she jerks back to reality, where she’s working through the rest of her lunch to keep the edge on the other new hires.

But the impulse lingers, long enough that she resigns herself to ignoring it until  a new obsession seizes that confined part of herself she shut away that first year at Stanford.

—

Veronica refuses to go back to Neptune for the reunion, but after Truman-Mann jumps at the chance to hire her, she splurges on two round-trip tickets to New York for Wallace and Mac, figuring meeting up was the whole reason they were so gung-ho about it in the first place.

She really doesn’t make it out to California very often, let alone Neptune.  After her disastrous freshman year at Hearst, Veronica jumped at every chance to step further away from the crash-and-burn-site.  The only reason she didn’t lose them is because Mac understood that impulse, and Wallace is a better man than everyone she’s ever met.

But god, skype and Facebook and phone calls don’t measure up to the real thing.  Veronica throws her arms around them right there in the airport and fights the inexplicable urge to tear up. 

Something between nostalgia and longing wells in her chest as they sit shoulder to shoulder with her in the back of a cab, chatting about their lives in Neptune.  She crushes it ruthlessly and fires back with tame, hollowed out stories from work and Piz, and smiles all the way through.

Her father was so proud when she told him.  My daughter, the big shot New York lawyer.  Veronica smiled all the way through that, too, and had an extra glass of wine that night where she derided her own inability to put two and two together.

Fortune 500 companies.  Frivolous lawsuits.  Disappear before they ever make it to a courtroom.

She knew exactly what she was doing, going into corporate law.  The smart thing, right thing, the thing that paid her student loans and kept her out of the oh-so-tempting mud surrounding criminal law.  She knew it would be contracts and smug rich people and ruthless competition.

But that didn’t stop her growing guilt—no, not guilt, shame—as she helped further grind the little guy into the dirt.  As she poked holes in probably-legitimate sexual harassment suits and helped companies with more money than they needed break contracts with smaller service industries and...

All that keeps her going in the disgustingly large paycheck she gets every two weeks and the fact that she does corporate law for filthy rich companies, not defense law for filthy rich people. 

(Though that doesn’t stop her from waking up gasping, one night, after dreaming she’s back in that courtroom, with Aaron Echolls’ goddamn face smiling smugly at her as she tears Logan’s and her father’s and her own testimony to pieces, as she gets him out of Lily’s murder and his attempt on her life.  Piz rolls over in his sleep, breathing quietly, and she slips out of bed. )

She and Piz treat them to dinner that night, and she enjoys it once she gets over the childish jealousy that she has to share these two people she adores with Piz, who she also adores, dammit.  

Their apartment has an office/guest bedroom and a separate living room, so when they get back near midnight (we’re way too old to be out this late, Wallace joke-groans, and Piz laughs back) Wallace heads to bed, and Piz does, too, after she waves him off from helping her set up the couch for Mac.

They share a look, and Veronica lets a smile pull her face wide as they have the same thought.  The sheets and pillow get piled up in a chair as Veronica quietly retrieves two beers from the fridge and plops down on the sofa next to Mac. 

“Cheers,” Mac says, clinking her bottle against Veronica’s, and they both take long pulls.

Veronica sighs more heavily than she means to and lets some unknown tension flow out with the air.  After a long, comfortable silence, Mac nudges her with her knee.

“How are you, really?”  Mac asks pointedly.  Veronica lets her head fall against the back of the couch and grumbles.  No, she didn’t miss the glances Mac and Wallace kept sharing all night when they thought she wasn’t looking, but when Wallace went to bed she thought they’d somehow agreed not to pry.

Now she realizes they just decided to be nice and not tag-team her, which is somehow worse.

“I met Piz’s parents a few weeks ago,” Veronica says, still looking at the ceiling, but even as she says it she knows it’s not the right place to start.  A symptom, not the disease.

Mac hums at her, listening but not interrupting, so Veronica takes the chance to start again.  Her head lolls to the side to examine Mac, really pin her with her stare.

“Did you ever imagine you’d end up working at Kane Software?” Veronica asks.

Mac catches her stare and raises her eyebrows, clearly recognizing it for what it is, and pauses to really thing about it.  “You mean, when I was scamming 09ers that deserved it for their money and helping you crack cases like a budding hacktivist?” She says with a wry look.  “No.  But I knew I was going to do something with computers, and terrible reputation of their founding family aside, Kane Software is a pretty good place to do that.”

Now it’s Veronica’s turn to hum noncommittally.

“I never had your sense of justice, though,” Mac continues.  “I just enjoyed getting swept up playing Q to your Bond.”

Silence falls again as Veronica mulls over what to say next.  She’s avoided putting her finger on this feeling for months and months, because new, normal, successful Veronica Mars is not supposed to...to...

To miss sticking her hands in the mud.

“Sometimes I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize myself,” she says finally, forcing herself to keep meeting Mac’s eyes.  To get a second opinion.

“Yeah,” Mac agrees.  “I looked up the kinds of cases Truman-Mann takes when you told me you got the job.” ‘Looked up’ for Mac doesn’t mean ‘googling;’ Veronica grimaces lightly at the implication.  “It was, uh, surprising.”

Veronica turns away when her eyes start to burn with that now-familiar shame, taking another long drink.  “Well, it pays the bills.  Keeps me out of trouble.”  Another drink.  “They tell me if I keep up the good work, I can make junior partner in four years.  Three, even, if I snuff the competition.”

Mac nudges her again and Veronica starts to fiddle with the label on her beer.  “My dad hasn’t worried about me in four years,” she admits softly.  “He’s proud of me, Mac.  Proud that I got out, proud that I don’t ruin people’s lives anymore.”

“Hey,” she says gently, “You didn’t ruin peoples lives.”  Veronica lets her incredulous face speak for her.  “Well, no one who didn’t deserve it,” she amends.

“I ruined his life,” she says sharply.  “I got you and Wallace in trouble, I lost—” she bites that off.  “I wasn’t happy.  I saw dark corners everywhere.  That’s not a healthy way to live, Mac.”

“No,” she agrees.  “But was that because of your cases, or was it leftover from the long string of traumatizing bullshit in high school?”

Veronica takes another drink.  Getting a psychology degree at Stanford was a fun exploration of all the ways the previous four years of her life were fucked to hell, and fucked her to hell.  And she did seriously work on her trust issues, though she stopped short of going to therapy, because that was never gonna happen.

Mac goes in for the kill.  “Are you happy now?”

Veronica, hyper-aware of Piz in their shared bedroom scant feet away, doesn’t reply, and Mac lets her.  But they both know what the answer is.

—

She passes the bar exam with flying colors; a 320 that makes her father beam with pride once she takes the time to explain the scoring rubric to him.  Piz kisses her cheek and brings her flowers when he gets off work.

It takes more effort than she’s willing to admit to ignore the fact that she scored so much higher in criminal law than contract law and civil procedure.

—

It takes her three more months to gather the courage to break things off with Piz.  He’s smart enough to notice that she waited until their shared lease was up, and that leads to a fight more vicious than any they’ve ever had; a final nail the coffin of their relationship.

Apparently she’s cold-hearted, mercenary; unwilling to open up and share her inner life with him.  Unable to commit to anyone.

But if I did that, you never would have loved me, Veronica almost says, biting it back at the very last second because the last thing she needs to release that knowledge for circulation.

She methodically packs up her clothes, the scant few knick-nacks and numerous pictures spread around in a facsimile of personal touches.  Her new apartment was lined up before she even spoke to Piz, who later scathingly rejects her careful offer to pay for half of next month’s rent while he looks for a place.

In the end, it take three days to dismantle their year-and-a-half-long relationship completely.  He’ll certainly get all their mutual acquaintances in the aftermath, who were always more his friends than hers, leaving her with no one but the service people at her regular take out places and a handful of Columbia friends in the city to talk to. 

But as she unloads her things into her new space, all the emotion she can dredge up is a faint relief, and fainter satisfaction at having her own space for the first time in her life.  That’s it.

Cold-hearted.

She pours herself a shot of tequila and knocks it back, in the interest of dislodging any hint of feeling she might be repressing unconsciously.   Fiddles with her phone and considers texting Mac, or Wallace, or her Dad, to let them know—because she’d done this, new address and all, without mentioning a word to them.  She’d even changed her paper subscriptions, but didn’t say a word to the three most important people in her life.

God, at this rate Piz will probably mention it to Wallace before she does.

All another shot gets her is her hands hovering over a keyboard again, still resisting the urge to look Logan up, to investigate he new life in some morbidly curious impulse. 

Kids these days call it Facebook stalking, but back in her day it was just plain old stalking.

And she doesn’t do that anymore.  Right?

—

Veronica channels her excess energy and time in a post-Piz existence into her work, and it earns her a “keep up the good work” from Gayle Buckley.  A nice word from one of the two female senior partners at their firm makes her all warm and fuzzy for the rest of the day.

But that dissipates as she remembers exactly what got her that compliment; playing asshole intimidating lawyer muscle for another “frivolous” sexual harassment suit at a fortune 500 company.

This time, she’s sure the company man did it, but that doesn’t matter in the face of all his money and scary lawyers.  The woman quietly folds for literal hundreds of thousands of dollars less than she should be entitled to.

That earns her another night in, drinking more wine than she really should be on a work night. 

Are you happy now? Mac asks in her head, and Veronica takes another drink.

—

She exchanges nods with the man at the corner store as she lines bottles on the counter; they’re familiar to each other at this point.  It’s late, even for a hard-working New York Lawyer in her late twenties, but she polished off everything two nights ago and somehow can’t face going to sleep sober. 

It’s not until she settles back into her couch with her second drink of the night that ice rushes down her spine in spiraling shivers.  Veronica freezes with the glass halfway to her mouth.

The blood rushes out of her face in a way that makes her feel cold.  An exhausted cold, a mix of expressions she remembers on her Dad and her Mom’s faces growing up.

Her hands shake as she sets it down with a decisive clink on the coffee table.

I will not turn into my mother, Veronica thinks, still reeling with realization.  Not even for Normal.

It’s close to 1:30 here, so everyone in Neptune will be sound asleep; she can’t stomach waking them up for this.  And there��s no one in the city Veronica is comfortable calling up at this hour.

Faintly, she recalls hands hovering over a keyboard, and her chest aches even more. 

If this were a movie, she’d probably go pour out her glass, and the bottles she bought tonight; make some kind of vow.  Sign up for meetings.

Instead, she gets up and collapses into bed as-is, barely remembering to set the alarm on her phone before she does.

—

After that she tentatively reaches out to people from Stanford and Colombia, desperate for connections to ground her and soothe the gaps she only now realizes she’s been filling with alcohol.

Just a few Facebook messages at first, but nearly all of them reach back.  Veronica has a weak moment of tearing up and rereading some of the replies in her inbox after a particularly hard day at Truman-Mann.

In another few weeks, she and a few people from Colombia have mutually coaxed one another into a standing lunch date, risking that relentless workplace competition for a chance at real human connection with people who won’t throw a fit if they have to run out of the restaurant unexpectedly.

She orders water with the meal and laughs for real at least twice.

—

Her last straw is a predictable one.  That final push, the leg stuck out to trip her so she faceplants back into the mud, like she wasn’t two seconds from deep diving into it on purpose.

I need your help, Veronica, one of her friends from Stanford says.  And that, as they say, was that.

—

Lilly laughs in Veronica’s ear as she picks her way through the crowd, for the first time in a long time.

Fleet week.  In New York, not San Francisco, but she laughs back all the same.

His posture is different.  Clearly, there’s something to be said for military training.  But it’s not that he’s standing taller, or with more confidence; despite the presence to him, he seems...lighter, like all that weight on his shoulder finally got shucked off.

It takes him a few minutes to sense her gaze, and she savors them, watching Logan Echolls in the wild.  Satisfying her inner stalker.

Their eyes meet across the crowd, and his face melts into that boyish grin she remembers, softened with age and warm, just for her.  She smiles back, delighted, and waves.

Yeah, she looked up him.  Eventually.

2. bloody knuckles, longing for home

logan, veronica, and weevil gather like fate after aaron echolls gets off for lilly’s murder; and decide to do something about it.  and then flee neptune, because the perfect murder doesn’t exist.

Veronica lets herself into Logan’s room at the Grand with the key she swiped from Duncan before he fled the country.  Steam pools out from the cracked bathroom door, so she drops her back on the couch and heads for it, making no effort to conceal her presence.

His head is bowed between his shoulders, arms tense as he leans against the vanity.  He breathes out sharply, almost a laugh, and doesn’t move.

“Chlamydia, huh,” he says roughly.

“Immunity, huh,” she fires back, but her heart isn’t in it.

“You know he’s staying here?” He asks, still not looking at her, but tension pools in his bare back.  Condensation starts to run in rivulets down the mirror. “He cornered me outside the elevators, earlier.  Threatened to cut me off.  No more mister nice father.”

Her fingers delicately trace one of the myriad scars that cuts across his spine, and then another, and another, and Logan lets her.  She maps out sins of the father visited on the son, and makes a decision.

Aaron Echolls will get his justice in his own way.

“Room 619,” she says, and his head rises.

Their eyes meet in the mirror.

—

Mac does extensive research on the Cayman Islands, just for fun, since Cassidy mentioned his father holds some of his assets there.

Veronica and Weevil go out for a drink.

Logan flirts with the woman on the night shift at the Neptune Grand’s front desk.

Veronica and Weevil and Logan go out for a drink.

Keith and his daughter spend the days between the end of finals and graduation decidedly not talking about it, but he thinks she’s taking it as well as she can.  Almost surprisingly well.  Veronica finds the tickets to New York he has stashed away.

Veronica and Weevil and Logan and Wallace go out for a drink.  It becomes a regular thing, grabbing beers or tequila or whatever they can get their hands on and sitting on a darkening beach every other night or so.  Sometimes the hush of their voices run underneath the waves.  Sometimes silence rings out.

Deputy Leo intercepts a mother and two boys who come into the station to make a witness report, but they can’t seem to find what they’re looking for in a book of the usual suspects.

Wallace forgets a pen in the coffee cup on the desk outside Clarence Wiedman’s office, when he goes to visit his mother at work.

Dick and Logan plan a blowout bash to celebrate graduation at the Grand.

Cliff McCormick brushes up on inheritance law in addition to juggling six other cases.

Logan books a plane to the east coast for after graduation.

—

After the graduation ceremony is over, half their graduating class descends on the Grand, filling the lobby and conference space rented out.  Some of them even make their way to the penthouse, Logan throwing open his door with a flourish.

But something about it just doesn’t feel right.  So Logan, Veronica, Wallace, and Weevil grab drinks and head out the front door, letting everyone see them leave for the beach.  Dick loudly complains to anyone who will listen about how Logan has been doing this every night for two weeks, like he’s got a standing appointment to hang out with narks and gangbangers.

Veronica calls her father and leaves a voicemail, letting him know she’s staying out on the beach with her friends for a while longer, in case he makes it back before she does.

Mac stays in the lobby with Cassidy the whole time.  Kendall Casablancas exits the hotel a little after midnight.

Weevil and Wallace stay out on the beach all night; the Xterra, which they all took together, sharing space for the last time, does not once move.

When housekeeping make their way through the hotel the next morning, there is a do not disturb sign on room 619.  It stays there all day, and night, and day, and night, and day again, and night again, until they start to pass it by automatically.

Veronica and her father leave for New York.  Logan boards a plane.

—

When the news breaks about Aaron Echolls’ death, neither of them are in Neptune.  Logan arranges for a private service in absentia, and sends Cliff McCormick as his representative to the will reading, which the executor of Aaron’s estate takes with more grace than Trina.

His assets are divided evenly between his two children, in addition to the existing trusts tied to age.

Cliff makes a brief stop at a coffee shop on his way back to his office, and says a few words to that computer geek friend of Veronica’s he catches sight of.  He forgets some of his notes on her table when he leaves.

—

Keith Mars comes back to Neptune alone.  The investigation into Aaron Echolls’ death stutters, stalls, stops.  Eventually, a harassed medical examiner admits it’s possible he could have maybe committed suicide.

—

Halfway across the world, a sweet and mischievous little girl named Lilly grows up with a kind, doting father, and an Aunt and Uncle whom she adores, whenever they’re in the country to see her.

Twice every year, her father and Aunt Veronica and Uncle Logan share a toast, even if only by skype.  Once on her Aunt Lilly’s birthday, and once on some day in late may.

3. all things grow

veronica mars, special agent with the fbi and logan lester, english professor, love each other well with the strength of decades, and still impress the hell out of everyone who meets them.  the one where veronica went straight to stanford after the whole cassidy debacle, and never quite lost the knack of investigating but with some distance from the neptune cesspool, learned to do it without ruining lives, her life.

Everyone knows Professor Lester is a jackass—with tenure, so he can’t be reprimanded for it.  But everyone also knows Professor Lester has the best analytical mind in the English department, and all the brightest stars in the Lit program come out of his courses.  He’s not bad to look at, either; the planes of his face are so sharp you just might cut yourself on them, and his eyes are always glittering like he knows something you don’t.  And he really doesn’t dress like a forty-year-old college professor, which doesn’t hurt.

Only the simultaneously lucky and unfortunate bastards who load their schedules up with him, or worse yet, get him as their advisor, ever see those planes soften.

His office is tastefully decorated, for those few English majors who know enough about interior decoration to say so. It’s also surprisingly devoid of books to belong to a man who seemingly memorized every text he’s ever taught. Pulling quotes and passages out of thin air is a particular talent of his.

There’s only one personal touch in the whole room, beyond the probably-expensive furniture: a picture of himself and a blonde woman holding a pit bull, on a beach so clean it can’t be in New York.  In it, her eyes glitter the exact way Professor Lester’s usually do, but his have melted into something infinitely more tender.

Very rarely, at the end of the afternoon or occasional evening class, the particularly observant students notice a blonde woman in a black pantsuit slip into the back, legs extended, ankles and arms crossed. She never says anything.  Just follows Professor Lester’s sharp movements at the front of the room.

None of them are trained to notice the outline of her holster, or the way her gaze actually darts around the room, tracking movement and exits, though it always comes back to rest on Logan.

—

Special Agent Mars is always fun at the Agency’s mixers and dinner parties and fundraisers.  Seeing her out of the sleek suit some of her coworkers suspect she was born in is all the more jarring for her ease in formalwear.  A real chameleon, they murmur, as she flips a switch and becomes more of a tittering socialite than a federal agent.

But the real fun is when she drags her partner with her.  Neither of them wears rings, but then, many agents don’t, so whether they’re married or not is up for debate.  He’s her standing date for every function, though, so in the end it doesn’t matter.

Veronica Mars has a rapier wit. Paired with her degrees in psychology and law and penchant for cataloguing every detail about a person at a glance, it’s safe to say she’s been verbally skinning people up one side and down the other since Quantico.

When her husband opens his mouth, it’s clear he shares her talent for sparring with words.

And watching them talk to each other is like following a tennis match—or perhaps boxing; trading barbs like endearments.

The best times is when some stuffy higher up with more ego than sense tries to glad-hand one of the most promising agents of the decade, and leaves the conversation head three sizes smaller and feeling vaguely emasculated.

—

Veronica learned the hard way in high school not to put too much of herself into her cases; learned to save some for her father, and for Logan, and for her.  But every so often one just stick in her craw and she can’t help sinking her teeth into it.

Her partner is too good to blink when her edges are sharper than usual, but Veronica can tell he notices.

And the man they’re tracking sure as hell does, too.  There’s something magnetic about Special Agent Veronica Mars on your trail, and this asshole is responding to it.  Leaving her...gifts.  Messages at crime scenes.

Verr-onicaaaaaaa, an old demon slithers in one ear and out the other.

When she starts to respond in kind, her supervisor removes her from the case and puts her on unpaid leave.  It’s in New York, though, and Veronica knows herself.  Knows who she is when she looks in the mirror.

Logan kisses the tip of her nose and thanks her for scheduling her crazy after his semester is finished.  They pack together, trading soft looks and touches as they maneuver seamlessly around each other.  Veronica calls Keith.

She silences the voice that sounds like teenage Veronica hissing that she’s running away from the fight.  That’s not her anymore.  And she’s not alone in this; if she didn’t trust her partner she wouldn’t have made it six months in the agency.  If she didn’t trust Logan, she would have died at seventeen.

Their visits to Neptune are rarer than her father would like, but just enough to soothe that part of them both that comes from here, that lives in every McMansion and dark alley and seedy bar and raging club and deserted beach.

Neptune is in their blood.  Veronica wouldn’t wish this place on her worst enemy; but they are akin, she and it. 

While Logan pulls his board and wetsuit out of storage and practically moves onto the beach, she does the usual tour.  Eli’s shop is doing well, and Valentina is adorable in her little oil stained overalls as she helps her father.  Wallace still eats lunch at their table, after all these years, and she smiles reflexively back at him like she did the first day they met.  Mac is still selling her soul to the devil for more money than god, running their software development with an iron fist.

Cliff quirks an eyebrow at her, and drops hints about cases he needs help with like other men his age drop little candies into children’s hands.  She rolls her eyes, but glances over the files anyway, and spends a couple nights taking pictures and video and surprising him with it in court.

It feels...nice.  Nostalgic, but not addictive.  Just some legal favors for an old friend who never failed to scratch her back when she scratched his.

Her forced leave isn’t up yet, and her partner says they’ve hit a frustrating but not definitive dead end back home, so she considers driving to San Diego to drop in on Leo with a pizza, for old time’s sake.

Then the man she was tracking in New York finally shows his face in Neptune.  He followed Veronica back here, to her home.

Oh, if that isn’t the worst, and last, mistake he ever makes.

Her friends, her family, closes ranks.  The town closes like a lobster trap for people stupid enough to come after Veronica Mars on her home turf.  By the time her partner and replacement make it out to the west coast, he’s beaten and bloody and wrapped up in evidence like a Christmas tree in Sheriff Lamb’s lockup.

The Sheriff takes the credit for the arrest; there is no mention of old biker buddies of Eli’s, or information passed along from Cliff and Wallace, or systems infiltrated by Mac. Of tasers and favors.

Veronica is cool as a cucumber when they call to tell her about it, while she’s out to lunch with an old friend.  Her partner is suspicious, but there’s no evidence.  And frankly, he’s not sure even Veronica Mars could have collared this guy without the resources of the Bureau behind her.

Deputy Sacks shakes his head in disbelief that people are still falling for that after all this time.

They go back to New York.  Life goes on.

—

Neither of them went to the ten year reunion, still too fresh off the horrors of high school. 

But they do go to the twenty year reunion, and win the shit out of it.  Not that they care, beyond vague petty satisfaction at the faces of those few people who do.  They leave early, have dinner with Keith, drinks with Wallace and Mac, and fly back to New York the next morning.

Some infinitesimal weight neither of them realized still existed was off their shoulders by the time they touch down in their home of fifteen years.

4. ten stoplights bleeding out

the one where keith mars dies in that plane crash, and veronica mars takes over mars investigations; veronica mars never escapes the insidious pull of neptune; and after ten plus years of money shots and favors, has perfected handing down her own particular brand of justice—and revenge. logan still joins the navy, but always finds his way back to her. 

it’s a story Eli’s heard a thousand times before, living in this town.  a story he’s lived himself, once or twice, though ever since he met Jade he’s done his upmost to keep his nose clean—to be that better version of himself she somehow managed to see in him.

the cops have it all wrong, lazy, corrupt, blaming it on the first brown kid they lay eyes on, planted evidence, ruined lives, etc.

there’s nothing he can do for them.

there’s nothing he can do for them.  But V always did love referrals.

“You need to go see the Sheriff,” Eli tells the kid, still hoping that one day the nickname will catch on just so he can see her expression.  His face crumples in heated confusion, because he just spent twenty minutes laying out how “Sheriff” Lamb was an asshole, but Eli smirks and jerks his head toward his car.  (Car, not bike)

They climb in, and drive to one of the last places in town holding out hope against gentrification—the 09ers he went to high school with would’ve called it seedy.

He still has a key to her offices after that stint working as her secretary for a few months when she was in college—though it’s not the same key.  Veronica Mars is too paranoid to keep the same locks for too long.  Never does catch her changing them out, just reaches in his pocket some days to fiddle with his key ring and fights a smile when his fingers find unfamiliar teeth.

But today, her doors are open.  They chime as Eli guides the kid inside, and gestures toward the old couch still sitting against the wall.

The receptionist’s desk is empty again.  He wonders vaguely what the last one did to earn the brush off.  She never manages to find what she’s looking for in an employee (either herself or her father, Eli’s never figured out which, but either option makes him want to clasp her shoulder).

He raps his knuckles on her office gently and pushes it open without waiting for an answer. 

She looks up sharply, her resting face before she registers his presence that special kind of pinched that means Logan had damn well better be at the end of his current tour of duty.

“Weevil,” she lets out a little breath and some of her tension.  “Long time no see, huh?”

“Yeah, we missed you at dinner last week.”

She shrugs.  “Life of a PI; there’s always another stake-out to ruin your night life.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” he drawls, raising his eyebrows at her.  After a decade and a half of knowing Veronica Mars, he’s more than familiar with her self-destructive tendencies. 

He’s vaguely grateful she’s pulling back from him before she unsheaths her paranoid claws and scratches everyone in reach, even friends like him; but mostly, it puts an ache in his chest that makes him want to hug Jade close and kiss Valentina on the forehead.

“Whatever, vato.  Just because you’re a successful businessman now doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t fight to keep the lights on.”  Her lips twist wryly.

And now he feels sort of bad, because she never charges his referrals full price for her services.   But favors are part of her gig, the way she tells it—keeps her in information and the occasional backup.

“Speaking of,” he starts, and she leans back in her chair and throws her feet up on the desk in a self-satisfied manner, one after the other, “I’ve got a Sheriff Lamb special in the waiting room for you.”

“Let me guess,” she drawls, “rich ‘victim’,” she pairs it with air-quotes, “planted evidence, and a timeline that makes no goddamn sense?”

“Got it in one,” he says tiredly, suddenly exhausted with the never-ending Neptune narrative.

“Send him in,” she says immediately, pulling her legs back and flipping through the one of the endless files that populate her life.

He hesitates at the door; once he hands off the kid, it becomes a case, and Veronica will tune out everything else that matters.  And Eli owes it to her to ask, to give a shit.

“When’s he back?” He asks softly.

Veronica’s hands slow, tension pouring back into her frame.  “Four more weeks,” she answers, clearly unwilling to further the conversation anymore.

“Yeah, well, make sure you remember to drag his ass to dinner with us then.  Valentina misses his stupid impressions.”

She rolls her eyes, and he shakes his head and leans out of the doorway to gesture to the kid, and that’s that.  Veronica Mars is on the case, and somewhere across Neptune, a familiar shiver just went down Don Lamb’s spine.

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 1/?

Part One: Bellamy Blake x Reader. 

Summary: The 100 are sent to the ground. Among them is Y/N Franco, the adopted daughter of Marcus Kane, and top engineer on the Ark. After spending a year in solitary confinement, she’s ready to regain her freedom on Earth. Unfortunately for her, Bellamy Blake gets in her way.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, minor plot changes

Notes: I’m so stoked to start this series. I’ve been experimenting with this idea for a while and I’m so happy with where it’s headed. Please leave a like and comment! Based on 1x01 “Pilot”.

Her birthday started out with her being sent to her death.

“Prisoner 320 face the wall” a guard’s voice rang out. A voice she’d recognize anywhere. David Miller’s regretful look on his face couldn’t save her from the review her father had given. 

She was eighteen. 

She was getting ready to be executed. 

So she complied.

“We are under orders from the Chancellor to offer you a choice.” Is what the chief of the guard said instead. “Stay here among the citizens of the Ark, and prepare for your review, or join your peers and be sent to Earth.”

Y/N creased her eyebrows, turning slightly at the choice they had laid before her. “Earth?” She questioned, confusion rattling her senses. “But it’s not safe.”

“Prisoner 320,” Miller called out, his tone impatient, eyes pleading. “What is your choice? You have ten seconds.”

She didn’t need a countdown or ultimatum to know what her choice would be. She’d been dreaming of this since she was little. Her notebook grew heavy in her jacket pocket, pages filled to the brim with her grandmother’s notes of everything earth had been before the bombs. She played with the thin metal bracelet surrounding her wrist as she met David’s eyes.

“Earth.” She blurted.

Sgt. Miller nodded at the officer beside him and she gasped. They locked a metal wristband around her opposite wrist. Her bare wrist.

“Hey!” She called out, unable to hold the exclamation back as an electric shock pulsed through her skin. David escorted her through the cold hallways of prison station, her home for the past year. And now she would be leaving the Ark. Heading down to the ground. 

Where her grandmother had told her story after story surrounding the green and blue planet. 

She was headed to Earth. 

Fingernails dug into her bicep, the Sgt. speeding up his steps before leaning his head down slightly. “Y/N” David’s voice was lower than a whisper, pushing her into the line of delinquents. “Promise me you’ll take care of Nate, he’ll need you.”

She nodded, “I will” she assured, “I promise you I’ll keep him alive.”

He released his grip on her and moved to the side where Abby Griffin awaited next to the man who had arrested her in the first place. 

“Y/N wait” Kane called, grasping her bicep before she climbed the ladder. She wanted to believe something akin to love lay behind the cold eyes scanning her. “Be careful.”

She refused to say anything to him as she tore her arm out of his weak grasp. Her feet clanged against the metal, landing in the dropship that would take them back home.

She strapped herself in next to a tranquilized Miller, his bobbing head relaxing on her shoulder as she caught a stretcher moving in, placing a familiar head of blonde hair next to the boy who had turned her in. 

Who had turned them in.

What the hell was Wells doing here?

As a final guard joined them on their journey, the hiss of the dropship awakened Nate beside her, his brown eyes open wide at the sight of Y/N next to him.

“You made it” He breathed a bright smile on his face as the ship launched out of the airlock.

“I missed you!” She began to yell as the engine shook, the machine hum drowning out most of her words. 

As Nate looked ready to respond, the screen flipped on. “Prisoners of the Ark hear me now,” Jaha’s face sent a burning feeling exploding across her chest. Her body tensed as he began his speech. “You’ve been given a second chance, not just for you, but for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds were better, we would’ve sent others, frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you...expendable.”

Y/N scoffed, her lips screwing into a scowl. 

“The drop site has been chosen carefully” Jaha continued, “Before the last war Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain.” 

She creased her eyebrows as she tried to exchange a glance with Miller who was staring up at the screen. 

Jaha’s face remained serene as he informed them of their mission. “It was built to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain three hundred people over two years.”

Miller finally chose to speak up, leaning over to whisper in her ear. 

“Do you think they’ll really forgive us for our crimes?” She gulped, pondering the thought. For Miller? Whose only crime was stealing an extra pair of underwear from the exchange on a dare? Probably.

For her? 

“No,” She muttered cynically. “But they need us to survive.”

Before Miller could respond, the ship plummeted, sending several unbuckled kids flying and the ship spiraling. Without hesitating, she grasped Miller’s hand in hers, the two hanging on for dear life as the ship spun out of control. 

“Y/N,” 

Someone was calling her name.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

She shook the fuzziness out of her eyes, the previous warm feeling replaced with a splitting headache as she met the unbuckled figure of Nathan Miller crouching next to her.

“That’s one hell of a birthday present huh?” She joked, a smile tugging on Nate’s lips as he pulled her up, the ruined seatbelt falling away from her figure. 

“Do you hear that?” A boy in goggles called from a few seats away. “No machine hum.”

Her legs shook against the newfound gravity, the shock of the landing making it harder to move forward against the crowding delinquents, each one eager to catch a glimpse of their new home. She brought her hand to her head, assessing the damage the crash had done. The black blood covered her hand, the unique genetic mutation reminding her she was still alive. She grasped her jacket sleeve, using it to wipe any fluid leaking from her head before joining the others on the first floor.

“Stop!” Clarke called, the guard that had joined them halting, “The air could be toxic.”

“If the air’s toxic we’re all dead, anyway.”

Y/N thought that was a pretty miserable way to look at it, but she shrugged, going over the calculations in her head. Earth wasn’t supposed to be survivable for another three hundred years, and even as she ran the half-life calculations in her head, she came to the conclusion they must have chosen a spot on Earth that wasn’t nearly as decimated by the bombs as they thought. 

Light flooded the dropship, blinding her as she shuffled forward, wind blowing through her lungs as a dark-haired girl took the first leap.

A beat.

Then another.

“We’re back bitches!!” She screamed, voice ringing through the trees. Y/N withheld her laughter, allowing the others to move forward as she quoted a line from an ancient news story. 

“One small step for the Ark, one giant leap for Ark kind.”

Her worn-out boots sunk into the mud, dust puffing up from the ground as laughter spilled out. Green was all she could see for miles, trees towering above her. She opened her lungs toward the sky, letting the sun warm her face as fresh oxygen filled her up, scrubbing her clean, all traces of recycled air gone.

A glint of blonde hair caught her eye, and she moved over to where Clarke was hunched over what looked like a map.

“What are you looking for?” Y/N asked, keeping her distance as Clarke’s blue gaze flickered up at her. She had already gotten the girl in enough trouble on the Ark, she didn’t need to repeat that on the ground. 

“Trying to map a path to Mount Weather, the fastest way is about--”

“Twenty miles,” Y/N finished, running the calculations in her head as she glanced between the map and Wells. 

His hands were stuffed into his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Clarke nodded, scooping up the supplies and turning toward the rest of the group. “We need to head to Mount Weather, and soon or else we’re going to run out of food.”

“Good idea” the guard from earlier interjected, causing Y/N to turn around and get a better look at him. He was much taller than she expected and much older than any of them here. The girl who had screamed their welcome stood beside him, both holding their heads at an eerily similar angle. Almost as if…

“You three get it for us,” The guard continued, his identity finally revealed as he placed his arm around the pretty girl beside him. “Let the privileged do the work for a change.”

A chorus of agreement rose up into the air at his statement, Wells trying fruitlessly to convince the group to continue to Mount Weather.

“Look everybody” The newly revealed Bellamy Blake announced, “The Chancellor of Earth”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the pitiful nickname. 

“How long do you expect to last without food? Water? Or medicine to prevent against infection?” Wells brought up, still trying to gain power over the situation, “We all need to go.”

“Shut up Jaha” An unpleasantly familiar voice jumped in. John Murphy sneered before shoving Wells to the ground. The Jaha offspring scrambled up, ready to launch at the criminal.

“Hey!” Y/N stepped in, using what little strength she had to break up the fight. “That’s enough! We’re not gonna survive if we’re constantly at each other’s throats.”

“Oh, yeah?” Murphy lifted his eyebrows. “And who left you in charge Sparky? Your dad give you a special assignment before you came down?”

She grew still. Annoyance fueling the rising temper in her stomach, fists clenching at the idea of that man giving her any orders after what he did to her. 

She launched forward, only held back by the vice-like grip of Nate. “Don’t,” He whispered, “You’re just giving him what he wants.”

Her shallow breathing filled the clearing, narrowed eyes staring daggers as Murphy as another smirk crossed his face. “Well would you look at this, we got the Prince and Princess to rule and the Sergeant and Councilor to keep us in line.” Sarcasm dripped from his lips. “Starting to feel just like home.”

Miller froze, body tensing, his eyes now turned on the long haired kid in front of him, dropping his grip as he rolled up his sleeves. “Nevermind. Y/N, I’m gonna kill him.”

Miller marched forward, ready to beat Murphy’s ass.

Cheers erupted from the crowd until they were cut off by the sound of feet colliding to the ground, the spacewalker coming to everybody’s rescue. “How about next time you pick on someone your own size?” Finn quipped, eyeing Wells, “Kid’s got one leg, give him a break.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, managing to hold Miller back while Finn volunteered for the journey to Mount Weather, grabbing two more delinquents for their trip.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Clarke told Wells, who protested, trying to stand up. 

“No way, I’m coming--”

“Your leg is going to slow us down.” Clarke cut him off, cold inhabiting her tone before turning toward Y/N. “You coming?”

It looked so tempting, but when she met the eyes of the former guard beside her, all she could think about was what she had promised David back on the Ark.

“Nah,” She tried to sound nonchalant, catching Clarke by surprise. “I’m gonna see if anything’s salvageable, maybe we can use something to make a radio.”

The blonde nodded curtly, heading out of the clearing as Y/N moved to meet Miller’s newfound friends, barely getting through the first round of introductions before Wells grasped her elbow, causing her to turn around. 

Anger flared momentarily before retreating at the sight of his helpless eyes. She never could stay mad at him for long, even back on the Ark.  “I need your book.” He asked, breathing quickening. 

“Why?”

He spun around, double-checking to make sure Murphy and his band of merry boys were nowhere to be seen. “I know you have a map of Earth in there, I want to go looking for some water.”

She moved away from the group of delinquents getting to know each other, her voice lowering to a whisper. “What makes you think I even managed to bring it down here?” Wells shot her a knowing look, eyebrow raised skeptically.

She rolled her eyes and pulled the small notebook out of the back pocket of her jeans, her grandmother’s writing staining each and every page. “I’m not just going to give it to you.” Y/N protested. “But here’s the map, there should be a water source south of here.”

“Thanks,” Wells nodded, watching his back as he limped out of camp. Y/N stuffed the leather journal back into her pocket, gaze meeting the narrowed one of Bellamy Blake across the camp. 

She broke the eye contact, choosing instead to head toward the dropship, hoping to Scavenge for any parts that could be used to contact the Ark. The most she was able to find were two conductor wires. She began to strip them as night fell, cheers and whoops coming from outside the ship.

She wiped the sweat from her brow, standing up as she moved outside, a fire raging as the clanging of metal could be heard. Y/N pushed herself through, watching in horror as Bellamy snuck a knife under the wristbands of the delinquents, prying them off.

“What the hell are you doing?” She interjected, stepping in front of the next delinquent in line. She recognized her from Miller’s group earlier. 

Bellamy tilted his head, a victorious smirk etched on his face. “Liberating ourselves!”

A victorious cheer erupted around her, eyes frantically searching for Miller in case things got out of hand. 

“You do realize these bracelets are transmitting our vitals to the Ark right?” She brought up. The crowd grew quiet at the sight of a Mecha engineer staring down their self imposed leader. “That with each passing hour the Ark is losing more and more oxygen?”

“Nice try Sparky” Murphy scoffed. 

Y/N repositioned herself, crossing her arms as she spilled the secret they almost executed her to keep. “The Ark is dying douchebag.”

The crowd fell silent at the news.

“I was there when the flaw was discovered and these wristbands” she gestured to the steel on her wrist, “are the Ark’s last chance for survival. The ground is the Ark’s last chance for survival. If you want your family and friends to a) know you’re alive and b) live past four months then keep your bracelets on!” She urged, calmly informing them of the truth that had been burning inside of her for the past year. 

Murmurs erupted around her and she saw Bellamy clench his jaw as his speech from earlier failed to call the rest of the delinquents to action. 

“Don’t listen to her!” Bellamy shouted in a last-ditch effort to gain power back, “She’s lying. She doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s related to Marcus Kane! The same guy who locked our parents up and floated them! The same Kane who sent all of us down here to die!”

The crowd began to dissent further.

“If they come down here, she’ll go back to being the privileged engineer she was, keeping secrets from us just like her father!”

That was the last straw. Her chest burst, anger pouring forth as she strode over to the taller kid, jaw clenched, arms tightened, fingernails digging into her palms as she observed the smirking guard. 

“He’s lying!” She called back, using his technique against him. “Until we can get into Mount Weather, the Ark is our only chance for survival.” 

She turned to face the dissenting crowd. “It’s simple math. The human body can last three days without water before they begin to die of hydration, about two weeks longer before malnutrition sets in.” She watched as the delinquents began to fidget at the truth of her words. “That’s assuming there is anything of nutritional value left from the apocalypse. How much longer do you suppose we can last after that? Not long.” 

She drew a sharp breath and twisted back to face Bellamy’s smug face, a smirk dangling on the edge of his lips, “The Ark is full of privileged people yes, Most of them floated your parents, yes. Do they deserve to live?” 

She paused to think about it. 

“Who knows?” She decided, shoulders shrugging, “But that doesn’t change the simple fact that without reinforcements, without supplies, we will die in less than two weeks.”

It was a bit exaggerated, but Y/N knew she had to play it up in order to sway this group of teens to her side. She was only one person. An engineer, hardly anyone of importance and she had just denounced the one thing that would give her that respect. The crowd began to turn toward each other, fearful whispers exchanged as they discussed her words.

“We need rules” She spoke directly to Bellamy with that statement, hoping he would give up on this endeavor. 

He set his jaw, straightening back up into his erect position.

No such luck. 

“You mean like the rules that got our people floated?” He dug the knife in deeper, “The rules that keep people like you from experiencing suffering like the rest of us?” He mocked. Her stomach twisted, temper flaring, red flags shooting off fireworks in her mind alerting the rest of her body to the presence of anger. 

“She doesn’t know what we’ve had to deal with!” Bellamy continued to shout, tearing her down. “She’s doesn't know what it’s like to have someone you love floated!”

Her body froze, muscles quivering as she ground her teeth together, heat flooding her body as her stomach continued to twist. She drew in a sharp breath at the accusation.

Bellamy’s smirk stayed plastered to his face, jutting his chin out victoriously.

“Those are your people up there” She urged, her carefully controlled tone the only barrier keeping her anger reined in, mouth hanging open in disgust. 

Bellamy hovered over her, “My people are down here! And here there are no rules. Here we do whatever the hell we want!”

“Whatever the hell we want!” Murphy chanted, leading the camp in an almost cultish rally. 

She stared up at the taller guard, squinting her eyes into a glare as she raised her head to meet his triumphant gaze. 

“You’re going to get us killed.” She uttered, dark anger wrought in her voice, jaw sore from clenching it. “You’re angry at Kane, fine. But don’t act like you know me Blake” She snarled, the rest of her body remaining perfectly still as her eyes blazed in anger, “Because you know nothing about my life, you hear me? Nothing.”

She watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he scanned her face. 

Bellamy almost seemed to shrink under her still gaze, no visible signs of anger making themselves known as the two faced off, tense silence standing between them.

Thunder brought the kids out of their newfound ‘freedom’. 

Wetness struck Y/N’s cheek and she couldn’t stop the elated giggle from escaping her. She stumbled away from the fire, closing her eyes as she arched her neck, a wide smile on her face. The rain drenched her from head to toe, soaking her to the bone as she pushed her hair out of her face, slicking it down as she relished in the free water Earth had decided to gift to them, unaware of Bellamy’s heated gaze on her back.

***

Bellamy’s eyes narrowed, tossing what little rations they had been sent down with in his mouth as his gaze lingered on the freshly drenched figure of Y/N Franco. Her ability to stay eerily calm and collected in such a stressful situation didn’t sit right with him.

She hardly showed any emotion. 

Not that she needed it to sway crowds to her side anyway. She had almost logicked him out of his leadership position. 

The position he needed to keep Octavia safe. 

The position he had shot the Chancellor for. 

“What are we gonna do about them?” Murphy distracted his thoughts, gaze drawn to Wells and Y/N laughing as they collected the freshly fallen rain. 

“Wells will be taken care of soon enough,” Bellamy stated, going through the plan over in his head as his gaze stood firmly on the girl who had questioned him at every turn.

Who claimed he was lying about her relation to Marcus Kane. “We need to deal with her next. She’s too smart for her own good.”

Murphy bobbed his head in agreement, “So what are you thinking?”

He pondered his options before drawing his gaze to the thick wristband still attached to her and a lightbulb went off in his head. “We need to remove her bracelet.”

“I don’t know,” The longer haired kid questioned, flickering his gaze toward the giggling engineer, “She seems pretty attached to it. I don’t think she’ll even let the prince touch it.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw in frustration. If this was the competency on the ground then he was screwed. “I’m getting that bracelet” He locked his eyes on her drenched figure, “One way or another.”

A/N: Whoooo! Chapter one is up and ready to go! And this is gonna be a long one so buckle in my friends. There is a reason for Y/N’s genetic mutation and it has to do with her family heritage. (oops I've said too much.)

Please like, reblog, and comment! I love getting feedback and reading your reactions, it makes my day.

For now, I’m just posting the first season and if enough people like it I’ll continue with the second. And so on and so forth. I don’t want to put effort into something nobody is interested in. 

Strike Means I couldn’t tag for some reason.

Permanent Tag List (open): @begonebirds @iamaunicorn4704 @galacticstxrdust

Tag list (now open!): @chloe-skywalker @im-a-writer-right @galacticstxrdust @clarkewithameme @shatteredlovesick @your-typical-giggle @rhyxn @amongthewildthingss @furiouspockettoad @niammain @cxddlyash @lena-davina

If you wanna be tagged let me know!

[sirenasinsib]

Spider

If you Like it please don't for get to press that Reblog! its means a lot to me!

WOW I havent posted in a while, been working on my own stuff but here is some personal works. Expecet to see alot of content of Spider and Viper. Ive been playing a ton of Titanfall so im in that mood rigt now. 

Fandom: Titanfall

Relatonship: Viper/OC Character

Warnings: Very long clocking in around 3260 Words! Explict language, canon violence, mutual pinging, build to relationship, and smut at the end!

He really didn't see why the ship was built to have a limited number of dorms. It was hard to find a spot and claim it as yours when it's already six members and their Titan, but the recent addition made it just a bit harder.

Spider, he was told, was to be dorming with him. Sloane and Ash were already in one room as was Ritcher and Kane, and he preferred to not have one of the other two males to be dorming with him, he saw how messy they kept theirs. Blisk's room was of course off limits. They were just about to take off when he heard a knock on the door before it slid open. Spider was there with only 2 duffle bags. She walked in quietly looking around the room.

The "kitchen" was towards the front of the room, right beside the entrance, a couch and TV opposite of it. Towards the back were two beds in opposite corners and lockers on both sides. The left side was noticeable more used with the bed sheets being almost completely off the bed, an extra locker that was slightly open due to the amount of tech it was holding. She took to the right side. Placing her duffle bags on the bed. Viper didn't focus on her as she moved around. He would have to just get used to another person in the room.

It was actually quite easy getting used to another person in the same room as him. The first week she slept with most of her gear on. The second week he noticed she would get up very early, earlier than Ash even, he didn't know where she went at the time, too busy trying to get more sleep before the day started. Hawk, his titan, told him later where Spider went. Often she went to the Titan hanger bay and got into her own Titan, JD. 

She appears to be under stress. JD has stated that they are not used to working with others. He also stated that she fears word of her being with the Apex Predators might get out and someone from her past may try to capture her.

Hawk spoke into the link as he worked on one of her thrusters. 

Is she that valuable of a member if she needs protection?

You were only a Predator if you had the skills. Needing protection meant you were weak. 

Calculations suggest a 78% better performance in missions with the assistance of a Monarch Titan and Pilot. It is also easier to be assisted, that is a possible reason why they joined instead of remaining in hiding. They were on low ammo and power, yet we’re able to steal just enough from both Militia and IMC units without being caught. 

It was one of their first real big missions after joining. They were to defend a couple of units going in to steal information and escort them out and to extraction. Spider had JD watch the back as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop calling out as well as distracting. 

“Would be nice if I got some help! Got a Legion hiding with an Ion!”

Kane yelled over the comms. Viper was on the far side of the complex and was dealing with his own Titan, same with the others when he heard Spider speak up. 

“On the way, can you distract them?”

“I’m in a fucking Scorch you bug! What do you think?!”

He spotted JD quickly running to the back of the area, halting slightly he guessed to pick up Spider before he started to hear the faint rattle of an electric charged XO-16.

“Enemy shields down! Kane?!”

He heard Kane laughing along with the roar of a Flame core activating and the sound of a Titan exploding. 

“Enemy Legion down.” 

Kane’s Titan spoke. Spider had to back up from a placement of Anti-Rodeo smoke when the Ion charged out with a vengeance. The monarch shot a few rockets and even an energy siphon before charging against the Ion. Then the radio filled with a hatch opening and a loud Metallic BAM. 

“Systems restored. Enemy pilot down.”

JD spoke. They had executed a Titan, and stole its battery. That was smart and ballsy Viper thought.

“Both teams got the data! Time to go!”

Blisk yelled into the comms, the roar of his Predator Cannon in the background. Viper dashed to the location of his team to defend as the others followed suit. Ash, Spider, and Kane made it back to his location while Blisk, Sloane, and Ritcher made it to their spot. Viper took to the skies, circling the group as Kane to the front and the other two took to a side. They would have a long walk to evacuation as they kept the enemy off their back and made sure that the ground troops stayed together. 

It was a long walk getting to extraction. They had to stop twice to make sure that they weren't followed and to give the ground troops rest since they didn't have a Titan. It was dark when they did their second stop deciding to rest a little before getting the last few miles in and getting off the planet. 

"Spider, Viper, you're on first watch. Sloane, Ash, you’re next, one hour." 

Blisk told them before finding a spot for his Titan to hunker down and both of them rest. Spider and Viper walked a bit away from the group before they found a spot. Spider hopped out of the Titan onto its hand as it lifted her up to the top of its chassis. She had a DMR in one hand with a ration bar in the other. Viper decided it would be a good time to eat as well. 

They sat in silence save for the whir of both Titans. Occasionally Spider would grab her DMR and look into the forest, he didn't see why, the titans would pick up on anyone approaching faster than they would, unless it was cloaked units but he didn't say anything. The hour passed uneventfully and Ash and Solane soon came to take their spot. Spider got back into her Titan as Viper moved Hawk to a spot and the other pair went to their own. 

"Viper? Can I ask you a favor?"

He turned from the blueprints for Hawk. Spider had grown more easy to get use to, she talked more. Sparred with the rest a few times. She seemed unsure right now. 

He spoke "Depends."

"My arm, I need another hand or set of hands to fix the connections and make sure the rotators aren't getting any build up or are worn down."

He was surprised to find her asking for help, he seen the way she reacted to others touching it when not fighting. 

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think you were capable, and I trust you a helluva lot more than the rest of the lot."

"Really, not very smart."

She gave a snort. "I seen the work you put on your Titan, as soon as you get this you're gonna do the same, besides, why purposely mess it up when I'm the one that keeps everyone's backs cleared."

It was quiet for a moment. 

"Fine. Blueprints?"

She tossed a small flash drive to his hands as she turned her focus to getting her arm off. He saw out of the corner of his eye, she pressed a button before twisting and pulling off the arm and placed it on the desk before turning

"I'm going to get cleaned up, you know how to find me."

They were sparing. He would never admit it out loud but she was one of the hardest predators to fight against. Sloane had a pattern, Ash wasn't fluid, Kane was easy to get dizzy, Ritcher you just let him do all the hard work of runnin around, Blisk favored his right side, but Spider? She dodged another lock, ducking quickly and she slid up right beside him, their gear rubbing against each other before she backed up from another swing.

She was fast, graceful, and really fucking hard to hit. He had one more trick. He turned around and charged her, she sidestepped, just like he thought she would and quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her with and using his momentum to flip them as they landed on the ground. He placed his fist above her neck as the other held her arm.

“I won.”

She gave a quiet laugh before tapping her non trapped hand on his side, where the armor was weaker. 

“More like a stalemate. Besides. . .”

He gave a small head tilt before suddenly her legs pushed against him, flipping him above her head. He let go of her arm, trying to stop himself from flipping. She quickly rounded and got above him, trapping both hands in her metal one as she placed her weight on his thighs, keeping from him lifting his legs to do the same. 

“I won now.”

Ok so he may or may not be pinning for the skilled sniper sleeping in the same room as him, who can beat him in hand to hand combat, does not intrude into his space, while also being a helpful hand when it comes to modding Hawk, and she looks good. Viper gave a quiet groan at his thoughts as he let the water wash his sins off the wall before he turned off the water. Drying most of his hair before wrapping the towel around his shoulders and pulling on a pair of boxers. He stepped into the room he shared the person of his thoughts with. Spider was distracted, she had taken her DMR apart and cleaned it again. The jump to their next contracts always left her on edge. “How many times have you taken that apart now?” He asked as he pulled on his pilot gear. “In total or while you were in the shower?” She was being funny, noticing he was in there longer than usual. He shook his head but grinned. 

“Ha ha very funny.” 

“Huh really, am I getting better at jokes? But in reality probably not a good idea to use a lot of hot water, you know how the boss and Kane get when they cant basically melt their skin off. There are other ways to relax.” His brain short circuit, did she really mean?-No that's just his thoughts, Spider didn't seem like the type to get attached to coworkers, or offer to be a fuck buddy. He didn’t turn around to face her, rather not look at her and see if she was being serious, the mission wouldn't go right then. “Yeah I know it's called sleep.”

“Thats- “Five mins till we get to the drop, get your asses to your Titans!” Blisked yelled into the comms. Spider didn’t get a chance to finish what she was gonna say as Viper grabbed his weapons and the rest of his gear and rushed out the door, she followed suit. 

He didn’t understand why he was sent on a solo mission, but he was told to for some reason, he guessed it was the fact no one knew his face, so he had to. He was ready to get back to being on the ship and rather deal with his personal issue then do another solo mission, he missed the small comfort of being assisted should things go south. 

He walked into the room quietly, it being late on the ship, and set down his duffel bag. The room looked mostly the same, another Sniper had been added to Spider’s desk, while a few Titan parts were placed on his, most likely due to Spider, she often found bits he was needing to get. Her bed was surprisingly empty seeing how she wasn’t in the hanger and he saw no one in the training room when he passed by. 

He looked to his bed, ready to sleep in his gear and deal with the pain later when he saw something in it. Spider was under the covers, wearing one of his shirts surprisingly and hugging his pillow. He turned not sure how to deal with her and decided to change. He heard the bed creak slightly as he changed and glanced back seeing Spider sit up. 

“Sorry I didn’t know you were back and I- the room felt different- I had problems sleeping and . . .”

She rambled before stopping, looking down and fiddled with the blanket before placing her hands beside her to get up. 

“I’ll get out of your way.”

“Spider.”

She paused and slowly looked up. He was close now, having changed. 

“If you want . . . you can stay.”

He didn’t want to admit but sleeping sucked when he was alone on the mission, the room felt barren without her. He missed her presence in general. 

“Oh-ok” 

She went towards the wall of the bed, grabbing her pillow and placing his back in the process as he got in. She hugged the wall as he faced the outside and he could feel her tension and it got on his nerves. He flipped over after sometime and placed a hand on her waist and held her.

“Relax.”

She took a deep breath calming herself before the two slowly drifted to sleep. They woke up with her head tucked under his chin and her own arms wrapped around his waist. They didn't speak about sleeping together, but they didn't stop either. He didn't know what to call whatever they had, sleeping together but not actually sleeping together. 

She was on a solo mission now. They needed someone who could go in and get close to the target without drawing attention. She volunteered actually. Pointing out that she still wasn't known as a Predator, and was an assassin before joining them. She got back two weeks later and immediately went to the med bay. The mission was successful but she had taken a few bullets, thankfully not in severe locations, removing glass shards, and trying to fix her arm. 

She was in a foul mood and no one bothered her, well except him of course. He had snatched her gear, arm and helmet mainly, the visor was cracked, as he set out to fix the two as she recovered. Once released from the med bay she was to rest and given a few more weeks for the nanites to do their job. 

He bothered her by watching movies, Top Gun and Edge of Tomorrow at least twice. Once healed she immediately went back to training, prepping her body after not having done so while healing. He joined her, bored out of his mind. 

"-nd I snapped his arm in half." 

She was talking about the mission as they spared. He stayed quiet letting her sort of vent before he blocked a swing from her. 

"Taught the ass to don't even think about touching someone without asking."

She spoke of someone following her, harassing her, while on the mission. She had gotten somewhere quiet and out of view before she attacked him after he touched her. While he was pissed that someone touched her, the fact that she broke his arm made him satisfied. He gave a groan hearing what sounded like metal on metal. 

His head was pounding yet he didn't even drink that much the night before. Spider was trying to be quiet, whipping up some food their bodies could handle while being slightly hungover. Eventually the noises stopped and he could tell lights were turned off. Cracking one eye open just a bit to see Spider in the kitchen eating whatever she made quietly, lost in her thoughts.

She was wearing one of his shirts again, he could see her shorts under the edge of his shirt but just barely. He looked away in his own thoughts before his eyes flicked back to her when she started moving. Bringing a bottle of water, medicine, and some food. 

"Are you always looking out for everyone?"

She hummed a bit as he sat up before speaking. 

"Guess it's just in my nature."

He gave a soft grunt as he was pushed onto the bed. Spider was quick to straddle him. She leaned down quickly, capturing his lips with hers and kissed hard. He kissed back just as hard as his hands grabbed her waist and head. He’s not sure how the make out session started. They were sparring again when it just got a little heated. OK more than a little, Spider had gained the upper hand and straddled his waist when he let out a tiny choked moan. She halted slightly, surprised by the noise before she moved but it felt like she purposely dragged her weight onto him more. Then they were hurrying back to their room, their gear quickly stripped away.

He was brought back to the present when Spider slowly kissed down his chest, her thumb flicking over a hardening nipple before kissing above his navel. She then tugged on his briefs, getting him to lift his hips as she pulled them off. Her hands felt along his thighs as she breathed over his cock. Slowly she gave the head a tiny kiss before giving a long lick on the underside. His breath was shaky but when she enveloped him with her mouth he let out a moan, his hands covering his face as she slowly bobbed up and down. Stopping at times to flatten her tongue on his head. 

"Fuck." He groaned out. 

Spider hummed, watching his reaction through her eyelashes. She continued before he started to pant harder, his hips slowly thrusting.

"Fuck-Spider-Ah!"

She quickly pulled off, her hand squeezing the base almost painfully keeping him for cumming. Slowly did he come from that high and she started to pump again. She crawled into his lap as she kept the slow pace, her other hand going to her cilt and rubbed lightly before slowly sliding a finger in. She matched her pumps, her finger sliding in as her hand went down. She continued even as she added a second and third. Once she felt stretched did she stop. 

Viper's hands went to her waist as she held him and slowly slid down a tiny moan coming out as she bottomed out. Then she rose and slid back down, her pace slow. His hands gripping her waist tight. She leaned down quickly kissing him as a hand went into his hair as the other braced near his head, his own hands moving, one to her hair, the other to the small of her back. 

The kisses were slow and sloppy, quiet pants came out between the kisses before Spider slowly increased her pace. They broke the kiss, letting their foreheads rest together. Quiet words spoken as the pleasure rose. 

"Nnnn-Viper-ah-Viper!"

"Fu-ck-Spider!"

They came with a shout. Spider giving a few thrust before slamming down hard and stilling. Small shakes went through their bodies as they breathed. Spider made a quiet whine as she pulled off him, feeling slick dribble out onto them both. She ran her hand through his hair slowly before giving a quiet grunt. 

"We need a shower."

"Is that an offer for round 2?"

He said with a grin causing a quiet laugh to escape her.  

"Only if you promise to help clean up the mess."

"Deal."

[thelittlefanpire]

The 100 Ask Game

okay, I was searching through @dylanobrienisbatman’s echo tag for some head canons awhile back and stumbled upon this! I’ve tweaked it a little and added some things from S5 and omg this is so fun! thanks to whoever made this ask game! S6 STARTS TONIGHT!

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from?

Farm Station. I grew up in the south and my great/grandparents all owned farms so yeah, probably Farm Station.

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?

I think this happened to a character in the book...I would probably get locked up for getting pregnant as a teen! lol

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?

If Bellamy Blake asked me to, you bet I would.

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..)

an eagle 🦅

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?

WELLS DESERVED BETTER JAHA

6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they?

The Leaders: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin

The Brains: Raven Reyes & Monty Green

The Muscle : Lincoln kom Trikru

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to you?

Geographically, I would probably reside in Trikru somewhere. But I really want to live in Shallow Valley. I wish we had seen more of that clan!

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)

sara - sera ? I don’t know. lol

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious

He was okay in the beginning. I was pissed when I found out he had a girlfriend in space and was trying to get with Clarke on the ground. I did not like him at all in S2! The guy really lost it in the end.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does?

I would have been able to resist in the beginning. Maybe took a step back to watch others take it first. But peer pressure, man. I would have given in eventually.

11. What character do you relate to most?

Clarke Griffin. She’s been isolated a lot and that’s something I relate to. And her Mama Bear instincts.

12. What character do you like the least?

S1- Finn, S2- Cage Wallace, S3- Pike, S4- Echo, S5- Kara Cooper

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)

Clarke’s soda tab jacket or Raven’s red bomber jacket!

14. Favorite type of mutant animal?

The blue butterflies! 🦋

15. What would your job be on the Ark?

A teacher! Teaching Earth History! Oh, that sounds amazing.

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?

Barf.

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive then who would have made the best commander?

Luna. Is there any other answer but Luna?

Nightblood aside, I think Octavia (with Lincoln still alive to influence her) would be a cool choice too.

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?

Paranoid af.

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach?

Bellamy Blake approach.

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone?

I don’t care who is the Chancellor, but Clarke Griffin is in charge. lol. Kane was the best leader for Skaikru on the ground.

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis?

Kane’s side! Viva la revolución!

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there?

Chocolate. All the chocolate!

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint?

Tattoos: let me get that eagle across my back or on my sternum that I’ve always wanted

Hairstyle: the most epic Harper style braid please

War paint: no thanks

24. Favorite quote?

”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.”

-The Traveler’s Blessing

Or literally anything Bellamy Blake says. lol

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning?

I feel like as unlikely as it is, the show really has Octavia set up as Warrior Princess Goddess Hero and she would win. lol. As far as forming alliances and making it to the end...Clarke Griffin could make it with Bellamy Blake by her side throwing back nighlock berries till the end.

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

Least: Mackson

Favorite canon: Zaven

Favorite non-canon: Sea Mechanic

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?

Radioactive needs to make another appearance in S6

Musical Guest Star: how about Hozier?

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?

We’d probably go crazy.

29. Your an extra that gets killed off. How do you die?

Bellamy Blake choking me to death... (can’t believe this took me so long to answer. Is there really any other answer from me?)

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of?

I would have liked more flashbacks of Roan and Luna and Lincoln. Spacekru on the Ring. Emori? Harper? literally everyone, right?

31. A character you’d bang?

Bellamy Blake. All day. Every day.

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?

SPACE!

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?

Sure. I don’t think I’d have much of a choice. I’d probably help take care of all the little kids!

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits?

Okay, so the way my life works I would probably get pregnant...again. And steal some blankets or something that I needed for all my kids. I’m not even going to front and say I survive that fighting pit sooo hope Blodreina trains them little squirts well!

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with?

I’m instantly bonding with Harper. She’s the sweetest.

I’m going to be a little leary of Bellamy Blake during his Clarke ‘I left her behind’ Griffin Depression hour. So he’s probably really mopey and moody. And let’s just avoid him for a while.

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself?

Two weeks? I’d probably starve to death.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do?

HIDE! And then spy on them. Figure out who they are and if they’re friendly. Go to them for help if they are. Take them all out in their sleep if they’re not.

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite?

Miles Ezekiel ‘Zeke’ Shaw!

That creepy Kodiak guy.

39. Would you Spacewalk?

Hell yes!

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat?

Bugs, definitely bugs.

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it?

I’d fight for it.

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes?

BAND-AIDS DON’T FIX BULLET HOLES — AND NEITHER DO THUMB DRIVES. That was such a clever move. I’m going with thumb drives over worms. I hate the worm scene. gross!

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia?

I’m not a big fan of my sister, so yes. Was there any easier way to stop Octavia? I mean, Clarke wanted to kill her. They wanted to protect Madi. As much as that scene pained me I think Bellamy did the right thing soooo I would poison her.

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper?

Stay asleep. Unless I’m living my entire life with Bellamy Blake by my side I dont want it.

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet?

JR isn’t going to give it to us so I’m waking up Octavia so her and Jordan can have a First One on the Ground Pilot parallel!

you may have already done this so I’m sorry! But the bottom questions are new!

tagging...everyone :) : @the-most-beautiful-broom @baellamy @youleftme-clarke @chants-de-lune @asroarke @marvelscaptainss @pawprinterfanfic @octannibal-blake @thehundredtimesobsessed @tabatharich @sly2o @grumpybell @galaxyblake @mjlupin22 @probably-voldemort @twd-is-life-98 @ghoulbrothers @ponyregrets @bettsfic @chancellorgriffin @sometimesrosy @sclestial @johnmurphysass @peterstarkss @clarkegriffintitties @daeneryskairipa @nikitajobson @perpetualbbps @lieutenantshaw @talistheintrovert @diyozas @llysandra @morleybobs @mamabearsdontthink @angelwingsnaya @selflessbellamy @hopewolves @kinetic-elaboration @raven-reyes-of-sunshine @anne-shirley-blythe @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @el-corazon-y-la-cabeza @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky @catastrophic-chloe @lovethyblakes @ellaalyse @eyessharpweaponshot @clarke-kom-eden @viviansternwood and anyone else who wants to join!

[someone-elses-star]

The 100 6x10: Matryoshka Personal Narrative

Here we go again! I hope this week went by as quick for you as it did for me! I’m super excited to see this episode--but nervous because I heard that there might be a major character death? I mean....we just lost Kane next week? Why would they do that to us again?! Any speculations? I’ve been hearing that it might be Raven (though that seems off-plot from this season) and I’ve also been hearing Octavia (but she’s in the next episode so maybe later this season, but definitely not tonight). Also, BOB DIRECTS NEXT EPISODE!!! I’m so jazzed for that! 

Love you Eliza! They can’t kill you off if you’re the only one who introduces the upcoming episodes! Lmao

Haha the reminders showing us yesterday about Bellamy being super in love with Clarke and her return. Like we need that reminder. We have been replaying that scene all week!

Love Clarke on the motorcycle.

Uh oh! Who’s on the other motorcycles?

Our head? Our head? 

You tell her Clarke! 

Damn Josephine knows her away around no matter how many years she’s been gone.

Anybody reminded of the bunker on Earth from season 1 to this one? You know the one where we all started shipping Bellarke? Lol

Ohhh....bringing up the Josephine/Gabriel relationship.

Wow. Josephine actually seems human when talking about him.

Damn.....Clarke is seizing. Damn, she is sorta worried about Clarke, but....still mostly worried about saving her own ass. Not surprised.

Ope! Here is where Raven and Abby find out Clarke is “dead.”

Russell is out for their heads. His own doing, really. 

Yeah, Raven. Look guilty and mournful for Clarke!

So Simone said that to hurt them for hurting her?

Yes, Russell, you’re fault. But not for letting them in. For trying to kill Clarke.

Awwww....calling Madi Clarke’s daughter always gets to me!

Wow. Simone is out for BLOOD!

Just like them? You are worse than them! 

Oh god?! Who are they going to kill?!?!

Oh. Telling people the truth! Good for him!

Do I hear the sounds of rebellion?

Gaia and Echo teamwork! We are getting almost all the spoiler scenes in the first ten minutes, are we? Damn.

REBELLION! REBELLION! 

Rebellion is never really peaceful, though, is it?

You tell him Echo! Haha

Wow. Make them choose who dies? Extra cruel. 

Plan B. Always have a Plan B.

I love Echo. I do. I may not like her and Bellamy together romantically, but I really, really LOVE her!

Wow Gaia. Put on the pressure. 

That’s easy....Murphy. Yup.

You tell him Madi!

Ohh....The truth is coming out!

Abby is going to kill him!

Eventually.....lol. Emori.

Abby totally giving him the slap.

You tell him, Abby!

Commercial Break #1 Thoughts: Honestly, I haven’t liked Abby this season, or most seasons, but it’s nice to see her acting like a real mother again. And also, I love Murphy, but he gets off wayyyyy too easy most time. Do I want him dead? NO! Do I agree that he would be the one to choose....don’t hate me!....but probably so. He did betray them and all. He did the right thing in the end. Sure. But mostly through a lot of outside pressure, and he probably would have gone through with it if Josephine didn’t stab him in the leg and shit. He’s very into saving his own ass. 

Is Josephine really singing....that song? Lol

Ohhh....back in the mind stuff! And it is MESSY and falling apart!

Ohhh their memories are mixing now! That is definitely not good! Way to really push the point that Clarke’s brain is deteriorating. 

Not much. Yes, I would definitely concur.

Ohhh. Her second body really didn’t want to be taken!

Josephine is actually scared. Good.

I love Clarke with a plan!

Hmmm....I hope those memories aren’t important....

Our brain, now Clarke? This is scaring me that she keeps saying “our.”

Leave it to Raven to put Clarke through hell and then give Murphy an easy talk.

So did Gaia purposely get taken?

Madi is ANGRY! 

The only person dying tonight is Russell. How come I don’t agree?

Wow. Very tense lunchtime. 

Is Ty good....or bad? 

Ohhhhh is Ty going to get himself killed because he can’t wait for the rebellion?

OH....is Simone going to die? Good riddance? I suppose....? Yup. Dead. 

No wonder Russell is going to be out for blood this episode. His poor choices are leading to his whole family’s demise. 

Commercial Break #2 Thoughts: Is anyone actually feeling bad for the Primes? I mean, I’m not, but I want to know if there is anyone out there still thinking they are good when their whole brainwashing shit is coming out. Bring on the rebellion! And seriously, already halfway through the episode? I feel, like usual, that we’ve got a lot, but still not enough. I really hope the last few episodes are not rushed because of this. That would suck. I know we’ll get a cliffhanger-ish thing like we usually do, but I hope it is after some real plot growth. Also, so we are probs not going to see Bellamy this episode? Is that what’s happening? Because next to episodes descriptions are all Bellamy/Octavia descriptions which makes me worry also about Clarke’s health. I see Eliza’s name in the cast section of both, but....still worried.

Ope. Josephine and Gabriel memories in different bodies!

Aww.....that’s so cute. I still hate her. And this is so the start of Gabriel’s hate for the Prime system.

Clarke is so sympathizing. She needs to stop being so nice.

Wow. They’re bonding. Damn. Fuck. Fine. Save them both, but give Clarke back her body. And let her live, of course. 

And here is Josephine with an ax. That’s not good. Definitely can’t not trust the psychopath.

And....there goes Josephine. But...Clarke is still inside? How? Is Josephine gone completely now? Or is she awake in Clarke’s body?

And uh oh! Killer vines!

Commercial Break #3 Thoughts: Don’t have many thoughts because that was not a lot before the next set of commercials. But I think we’re somehow seeing Josephine awake somehow? Like, why was it her who regained control when her memories were wiped? And what does this mean for Clarke’s survival? Especially when I’m convinced Josephine was going to use that ax against Clarke? Meaning she can STILL definitely NOT be trusted to keep any sort of deal in keeping them both alive. Josephine is definitely the female Murphy--a little more psycho, yes, but still valid.

At least those commercials didn’t last.

And here is the body being choked! And Gabriel and Octavia to the rescue! 

Nope....Josephine. Not Clarke.

Oh. He does still love her.  That’s not good.

Yeah, Octavia. Ask about Clarke! Save Clarke!

Wow. This is such a mess!

Damn. You guys didn’t honestly think that she was to be trusted. 

You go Bellamy!

“Because of course it is!” What sass!

Blake reunion!

You tell her Bellamy! Protect Clarke, Octavia, and your people. In that order if you don’t mind!

Gaia and Madi confrontation!

Wow Madi is really going bad! Save her!

Yes! Abby is talking sense!

That’s what you get for letting a child become Heda! 

Damn. Shedheda was horrible!

Wow Abby is really going full on mother hen now!

Raven asking the right questions! Good girl!

And this is where we are going to get Madi’s exorcism scene next week!

Ohh....the child is spared, but all the others are burned?

Very witch trials.

Commercial Break #4 Thoughts: Madi is fully gone now. Gotta get that exorcism done. Which is totally next week in Bob’s directorial debut episode next week! SO EXCITED! Which from the behind the scenes pics seems to have Jackson in it, so if he survives the burning at the stake thing, I’m thinking everyone else will, too. Just a theory, but Echo has got to come through in some aspect. And also, with some help from the rebellious people who have already been told the truth? Well. here comes the last fifteen minutes. The last five minutes of all this season’s episodes have been intense, so I wonder what the last five will bring this episode. I’m nervous. And excited. But mostly nervous as always. This show is totally going to make me go prematurely grey! 

Russell giving his dictatorship speech. Gotta have it. 

Echo is totally ready. 

You tell them Emori! 

Very witch trials. 

Damn it, Riker! What the hell?!? Can’t trust any of these bastards.

The chick on the motorcycle is going to save them last moment. Calling it.

Or.....Murphy will save them?

Hmmmm....he’s considering it.

And....now they’re safe? Again?

Ohhh....and Raven is going to use the computer to erase Madi’s bad side.

But they are still going to burn the guy who killed Simone. Typical.

I could see that coming a mile away. Gotta keep everyone in fear of the Primes.

Commercial Break #5 Thoughts: Fear is what keeps the people under control. Biggest sign of a dictatorship. And further proof that the Primes are the real bad guys here. Even Russell in his best moments has always been a brainwashing dictator playing himself off as a god. Also, last five minutes are coming up! Always the most intense! Does anyone else believe this is when we will find if Clarke is going to live or die. I really would stop watching if she died. She’s the show for me.

SAVE CLARKE Gabriel! 

Stop with the heart eyes! Only Bellamy and Clarke can have heart eyes!

She was right to depend on you. 

Gabriel making hard decisions. 

He better still save Clarke!

Either that, or the Blake’s will probably kill him.

Bellamy is seriously pissed. Save his Clarke!

Damn right, Gabriel! The only one who can be trusted I think. Maybe.

Death is life. Very poetic.

And Clarke is now seeing her mind breaking apart. 

Okay. Save her! Save her now! I’m scared! Restart her heart! 

Why is she still here!?

WHAT?!?!?!?! 

IS she really killing Clarke?

Oh God. 

Heart and the head. Hear and the head!

Save her Bellamy! This is love! 

Is that the only kiss we are only ever going to see?

Damn....are we really losing Clarke?

Oh my god. My heart seriously was stopping and racing!

The head and the heart! This is so a love confession!

THAT WAS A LOVE CONFESSION!!!!!

My hands are still shaking from thinking that they were really killing off Clarke!

[harpermiller]

I stole this ask game from @thelittlefanpire because it looked fun!

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from?

Probably Mecha Station tbh - my dad and grandpa are mechanics so it’d make the most sense 

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?

Probably for talking shit to an official/council member or for stealing something 

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?

I’d take it off in exchange for food yeah

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..)

An otter? idk

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?

Harper McIntyre my girl

6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they?

Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, Murphy, Miller

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to you?

Floukru 100%

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)

ashley = ashlee ???

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious

See i thought he was annoying from the start and that smth wasn’t right with him and when it was revealed that he was cheating on Raven/Clarke I instantly didn’t like him.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does?

I have a hip injury (kinda like Raven’s) that causes me pain sometimes so if i was told that the chip would take that pain away permanently i would absolutely take it

11. What character do you relate to most?

I have never related to a character more than i relate to Clarke Griffin - especially in season 5 and what i can tell from season 6. 

12. What character do you like the least?

s1: Finn

S2: Cage

S3: Pike

S4: Echo/Jaha

S5: Octavia/Echo

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)

Probably a bomber jacket, jeans, combat boots, and like some cool finger-less gloves idk

14. Favorite type of mutant animal?

the butterflies ?? other than those and the two headed deer there weren’t really any other mutant animals shown

15. What would your job be on the Ark?

A teacher since thats what i’m in school for now

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?

In the circumstances? yeah. Any other time? hell no

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive then who would have made the best commander?

Luna 100%

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?

Spacey af

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach?

Bellamy’s approach

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone?

I think Kane is definitely the best chancellor but lbr Clarke and Bellamy were in charge

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis?

Kane’s side duh

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there?

the music ie an ipod, books or art supply

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint?

Tattoos: i’d probably have the flourku symbol on my shoulder or back of my neck

Hairstyle: probs like a french braid or smth

War paint: no warpaint for me

24. Favorite quote?

“For all its faults, earth is really beautiful.”

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things” 

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning?

Octavia would be the obvious choice in terms of physicality, Raven would have a huge shot because of her brain, and then Clarke and Bellamy would probably make it to the end together and then pull a Katniss and Peeta.

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

Least: Mackson

Favorite canon: Briller 

Favorite non-canon: Sea Mechanic

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?

Hozier needs to guest star and sing some sweet faerie bog music 

and i think Bootstraps cover of Stand By Me would make for a beautiful scene between the remaining delinquents

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?

Go crazy since it didn’t seem like he had a lot to do lol

29. Your an extra that gets killed off. How do you die?

Probably doing something stupid - i’d 100% die in season 1

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of?

I would have liked more flashbacks of the delinquents on the Ark and maybe some of spacekru

31. A character you’d bang?

Bellamy Blake

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?

If Octavia wasn’t in charge and they didnt turn to cannibalism probably the bunker but considering all factors definitely space 

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?

I wouldn’t really have a choice but to follow her lol - and idk i’d probably teach or help out with the children 

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits?

Probably just for talking back to Octavia or someone - or for refusing to participate in warrior training lol

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with?

I’d bond with Harper first definitely - i would probably have trouble bonding with Echo or maybe Bellamy just because of his post-Clarke isolation

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself?

not long at all lol - i’d die of starvation and dehydration 

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do?

Watch them and see what their deal is - decide whether they are useful/friendly and then make a decision from there

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite?

Zeke or Diyoza are my favourites and McCreary is my least favourite

39. Would you Spacewalk?

Probably not lol

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat?

Space Algae tbh

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it?

I’d fight for it but i wouldn’t want a war. Negotiations and peace talks would be my first choice

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes?

thumb drives into bullet holes - seems nasty but not as nasty as digging out the worms

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia?

Me and my sister are chill so she would have had to do something really terrible for me to poison her - even if its at the expense of someone i love. If i knew that my sister would be fine if i did it then maybe but if there was no guarantee then no.

To stop Octavia i’d probably either do what Bellamy did or just kill her 

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper?

Go into cryo - unless i had a really good reason (or person) to stay awake for

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet?

I’d probably go with Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, Murphy, Emori, Zeke, and Miller

I’m tagging @miles-ezekiel and anyone else who wants to do it but hasnt!

[nogoodguysgriffin]

Tagged by @bellamy6lake

rules: answer as many as you want if tagged and then tag three more people OR just reblog it and treat it as a regular ask meme!! have fun xoxo

1. What would you get arrested for on the Ark? Hmm honestly like it'd probs be like trash taking the council

2. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground? Yep, sorry but this things look uncomfortable af

3. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? Hmm maybe like a turtle or a pencil?

4. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be? Anya I need to experience more of her sassiness

5. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they? Clarke, Lexa, Anya, Raven, and Roan

6. Minty or Briller? Honestly don't really have an opinion

7. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!): Rakel

8. Thoughts on Finn? Don't really know why people hate him so much I liked him, he wasn't perfect but he had good intentions for the most part

9. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does? First of all I can't even swallow a pill so that's kinda an issue. Second of all if crazy Jaha is tryna make me take it I'd be like "nah brah" and third: I like my mind exactly the way it is thank you very much

10. What character do you relate to most & What character do you like the least not including the obvious ones like Pike, etc…Hmm probably either Clarke of Raven. I agree with Clarke's view on most things, and I share Raven's value of her mind/intellect, and I also do have a bad leg (not nearly as bad as Raven's it's more just a bad knee). As to character I don't like, it think it's gotta be either Abby or Octavia. Octavia's too hard on people and damn can that girl throw shade, but Abby irritates me for some of the same reasons but also idk I just don't like her as a leader

11. Describe your delinquent outfit: I'd definitely dress more Skaikru. I'd wear a bomber jacket, combat boots, and either a knife or bow and arrow on me

12. Favorite type of mutant animal? Sea leech thingy

13. What would your job be on the Ark? Council or the closest thing to a lawyer

14. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked it? Haha nope, I'm good, I'd rather keep the zombies the city of light people out

15. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she’s still alive right? then who would make the best commander? Roan, though he's not the best fighter he's a decent politician but more importantly he's objective and doesn't have double standards

16. If you were a grounder, then where would you live and who would be your mentor? Azgeda, ngl I live for the cold and I'm not the warmest person either...my mentor would probs be Echo

17. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty? Laugh at everything and anything

18. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? Sent her away, sorry girl but ur a liability and seeing as we don't have the manpower to constantly watch u....

19. Who should be the Chancellor, if anyone? Clarke and Kane

20. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod)What is the one thing you would snatch while there? Her iPod; I live off of music so

21. Do you think you’d have caught the virus spread through camp or would you have been immune like Octavia? Immune- I don't get sick easily

22. What would your grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint? My hair would be down with maybe a minimalistic hairstyle to get it out of the way(I hate doing anything with it), I would probably have like one or two small minalmistic tattoo on my wrist, and for war paint something similar to Clarke's in season 3

23. Favorite quote? Too many good ones

24. Can you forgive Murphy for his actions? How about Bellamy? Murphy-yes, he's proven himself through the the seasons and shoes remorse for what he did, Bellamy-once he stops making excuses and simply realizes that he went too far and shows he won't do that again

25. If one of the characters was in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? Lexa

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite ship? NOT INCLUDING CLEXA OR BELLARKE. Jasper and Maya (come on we saw that coming from a mile away) and fav ship would have to be Raven and Wick, I loved their dynamic

27. A song that should be included in the next season? Hmm idk needs think any that

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time? Sleep,rant about peoole, sleep.

29.Opinion on Emori? Roan? Emori's okay, I LOVE ROAN.

30. Would you want to be an extra that is killed off in a brutal way? Nah I'm good I don't want to be burnt alive

31. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of? Anya

32. A character you’d bang? Umm Shawn Mendes character because....Shawn Mendes

[thedeadflag]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas (WIP)

This is another one I’d put some work into in the past but haven’t finished. Figured I’d post it here to continue the festive feels

"...and I'm just saying, it's not good to be alone for the holidays."

Clarke rolled her eyes, wondering how many times she had to remind her mother of her plans. "I told you last week, and the week before, I'll be home for Christmas."

"And I remember the last three years, Clarke. Pulling your place setting from the table the day of, learning after the fact that you'd gone in to work an on-call shift after telling me you'd be home. At least this year you didn't keep repeating it like a mantra, but it's okay...I just...I'm a mom. I worry about you." The guilt pressed heavy against her ribs, ballooning in her chest as she remembered all the years of blowing her mom off for the holidays.

It wasn't fair, not really. She knew she wasn't doing the right thing, but Christmas had always been her, her mom, and her dad. Ever since her father passed away, the holidays had been a trying experience; when it was just her and her mom, it was hard, and it felt like they were lugging their dad's damn casket around every day of it, but they always made it work.

And then Marcus Kane came along.

First, it was him being invited to Christmas. She tried a year of that before she realized it was too much. The next year, he was invited again, so she found an excuse to stay away. The Christmas after that was a mere three weeks after her mother had moved into a new house with him after selling her childhood home, so she found yet another excuse.

Last year, she'd actually meant to give it all another shot, but the hospital had begged her to do an on-call in pediatrics after a third of the doctors on staff in that wing had inexplicably come down with the flu, hence her last minute change of plans.

Can't say she hadn't been a little relieved to have an excuse, though.

However, her mom deserved better than avoidance and excuses during the holidays, and as much as Kane would never be her dad, her mother deserved all the happiness in the world. Given the two of them had gotten married this past summer, it was only right of her to visit for the holidays

Of course, it didn't mean she couldn't halfway dread the whole thing. Marcus wasn't a bad guy, but without her childhood home, without her dad, without any real connection to anything outside of her mother, there was bound to be plenty of awkwardness.

"Like I've said a million times, I'm fine. I'm doing alright. There's not a major outbreak of disease or anything like last year, and the chief practically shoved me out of the building herself, so I'll be home. Stop worrying." Clarke insisted, checking her watch. "I'll be packed and out the door in forty-five to make the drive back up north. I'll get there late tonight."

"Clarke, there's going to be a bad storm rolling through tonight, it'd be safer to drive up tomorrow. I know it doesn't snow down there, so you're still using all season tires." Her mother was a hell of a control freak with top-end worrywart tendencies, which made for an insufferable mixture at times like these.

As if her trusty old Civic would fail her after all these years.

"Come on, mom, a little snow never killed anyone. As much as you used to worry, I did ace my driver's test on my first try, and I've never gotten in an accident. I'll be fine...I'll see you tonight, okay? Love you." Clarke ended the call before her mother could lob a flurry of other ridiculous concerns her way. How the woman could go from assuming she wouldn't make it down for Christmas to wanting her to take her time getting down there, Clarke would never know.

She was just entering her bedroom to do some last minute packing when a new text message rolled in, predictably from her mother.

Mom One last thing, you can always bring that girl you've been seeing, we would love to meet her.  Love you, drive safe!

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by a two-ton gorilla at the reminder of her most recent failed relationship. Luna had been great when they were together, but the woman was in the Navy and constantly out at sea. After nearly six months of long distance, they'd mutually called it quits in early September, but it still stung. Or, well, it was more like a deep, seeping ache that gripped at her heart and lungs, but 'stung' was a less depressing way to describe it, so she went with that.

Besides, it wasn't necessarily Luna in specific. Truth be told, she'd always been a people person in the sense that she really was never at her best without a nice flock of loved ones nearby. Having moved to a new city far from all her old friends, and now reluctantly single on top of that, loneliness was a pretty common antagonist in her life these days. Phone and video calls could help, but they could never replace having her people close by.

Okay, maybe she missed hugs, and maybe that was not an insignificant part of why she was making the trek back home for the holidays. It was normal to want affection, and to miss it when you go a few months without it.

Her mother had been beside herself with worry when she'd been out there in Polis without any friends or loved ones nearby. Luna brought with her a sense of security and hope for her mother that Clarke didn't have the heart to extinguish, not on Christmas. Besides, if her mother had remembered Luna's name, she would have said it, so Clarke at least had the benefit of not having to be specific when she got home.

Clarke decided against grabbing an extra set of cold weather clothes, figuring it'd be a waste when she'd only be outside for the walk between her car and her mom and Kane's home. It was always better to pack efficiently, after all. Besides, she planned on being indoors ninety-nine percent of the time; she really did look forward to seeing her mom, and to seeing whatever friends braved the western New York snow and returned back to Arcadia.

She had a good feeling about her little festive vacation. A really good feeling. Sure, maybe it was because she'd wished upon a star that she'd have a good holiday, it having been the first time she'd seen a shooting star since she was an awkward teenager, but still.

Christmas was going to be great.

Everything was going to be alright.

---

Everything was not alright.

At all.

Clarke knew that much as she came to, groggy and disoriented, but conscious enough to feel the deep, throbbing, full body ache, particularly around her face and neck. She could also feel the frigid sting of snow on her body, and it was impossible not to notice that more was flowing in by the second. Finally, the blood dripping down her face was probably caused at least in part by the sharp things on her face, probably bits of glass.

She took a moment to try and remember how she got here, but it was all too foggy. She remembered hitting the blizzard, the roaring winds sending her poor little Civic all over the road. Maybe a guard rail was involved? She wasn't entirely sure, but there had to be a reason her car was a few meters from the road, potentially having rolled over and over through the snow and ice given all the mess in her vehicle.

Clarke squinted her eyes open and tried to focus on where her car's phone dock was, but it wasn't hard to tell that her phone was gone. Glancing at her right and the large pile of snow and glass in her front passenger seat, Clarke was pretty sure it was down there in that snowy deathtrap.

So much for her shooting star-graced luck.

She wasn't so concussed that she was unaware of the dangers. She was already freezing, and as her vision started to clear a bit, it was obvious she'd been out for a little while given the extra foot and a half of snow. With her door wedged shut from the structural damage, she didn't have many options. She'd never been the most educated about cars, but she knew what winters up here could do to a person if they were careless.

If she stayed out there much longer, she was bound to freeze to death, that much Clarke knew, and maybe that urgency had adrenaline coursing through her body, pushing her past the pain as she angled herself in her seat and struck out at her driver's side window, throwing all her weight into the strikes and breaking the fractured pane for good.

It took some maneuvering, and maybe a torn rotator cuff, but Clarke managed to unbuckle her seatbelt and get her winter coat off, using it to clear the window of glass and snow, giving her something safe to crawl onto as she emerged from the wreckage of her car.

"Fuck..." She let out, the snow and ice pelting her relentlessly, the instinct to cover up bringing her to pull her winter coat free.

The loud tearing noise told her that her luck had only gotten worse. She didn't need to look behind her to realize she'd just gutted the only real shelter she had from the storm. Clarke shook her head; it didn't matter, it'd be better than nothing.

Clarke shambled her way to the roadside, the untouched snow telling her she hadn't had any company out on the road since her crash. She peered down each end, her mostly obscured tracks telling her which direction was which, at least, though with her head so foggy, it was hard to focus on where she was. Nothing ever looked familiar in the snow. At least, not when there was so much of it.

"Come on, think...think..." She urged herself, willing her mind to go through the moments leading up to the crash. Turning off the highway, passing the old rickety farm stand shanty the Jorgensons used in the summertime. Making the left after the propane fill-up station.

A memory of a bridge came to her, startling her with the knowledge of where she was, or at least a general idea. She hadn't passed the dilapidated church yet, so the bridge had to be the one over the old creek where her father used to take her fishing, which meant she was smack dab in the middle of nowhere for a few miles.

Or, well, maybe not nowhere, as another memory surfaced. One of a gangly girl reading a book by the water's edge.

"Anya..."

It was a long shot, to be sure. Hell, the town had given the girl enough grief over her years to run her out of town if Anya was smart, but at a time when she needed hope, Clarke decided to hope, steering herself due northeast, trudging through the snow towards the thicker trees.

Anya's family lived a good dozen miles out of town, off a beaten path in the middle of a thick growth of pines, or at least they had until the divorce. Then it was just Anya and her mother, something Clarke had in common with the girl in a sense, but due to various circumstances, some beyond her control and some not, she never quite got to connect with her back in high school outside of a brief few moments at prom.

It was a little hard to be friends with the school outcast when she was the president of the student association and all of her friends were popular and accomplished and lived in town. It was hard when a lot of them just weren't open minded about Anya no matter how much Clarke tried to push the issue, which she probably could have done a better job on in hindsight.

As awkward as she'd been, Anya had maybe been even more so, but the girl's smile...at least the rare time Clarke was graced with it...could probably light up the night sky. Anya had always been a bit reserved, controlled, but that didn't stop the girl from constantly wearing her heart on her sleeve. Just the thought of that smile, especially the one she'd last been graced with all those years ago under their school's tacky set of mirrorballs, had Clarke feeling a little warmer in her snow-soaked boots as she staggered her way through the thigh-deep snow and through the trees, spotting a narrow road a few meters ahead.

Her breath was rattling out of her lungs by the time she spotted the dark cottage at the end of the road, the barest hint of light flickering in the front window. Her legs were lead-coated icicles, feet stabbing their way roughly through the snow in sharp, harsh steps, nothing but pain in her limbs as she shivered her way towards the possible sanctuary.

It was getting harder to focus and even harder to breathe as she trudged forward, slipping in and out of consciousness with each blink, finding herself ever closer to the door and death, not enough air in her lungs or strength in her tongue to speak, her head colliding against the door before her hands as she stumbled into it, the more sheltered porch offering less resistance for her newly clumsy frame.

"Anya..." She tried to wheeze, but all that escaped her was a harsh grating noise. It took every ounce of energy to raise her hand to hit the door, and with the wind and snow whipped around her ears, with how frigid her body was, she couldn't really expend the focus to hear much of anything, not that she probably could have in better health.

One last knock had her slumping hard against the door, depleted and desperate, knowing she was so close. She just needed a little help. Just a little. She couldn't have her mother lose the rest of the Griffin family. Not in the early hours of Christmas Eve.

Just as she was clinging to the last of her hope, the door swung open, and nothing in the world could stop her descent back down to Earth.

---

It was a weird thing, to wake up shivering uncontrollably for the first time. After apparently not dying of hypothermia, it was hard not to feel a little grateful despite the groggy aching frigid mess of sensations wracking her body, but while she'd been cold before, she'd never felt it so heavily and deeply, as if there were hidden caverns inside her ribs just full to the brim with ice. And then there was the splitting headache. It was all a little terrifying.

It was only when she managed to peek her eyes open and see a large lump laying on her chest that she realized the weight wasn't from the entirely alien chill saturating her body.

She'd only just let out the tiniest of grunts in confusion at the large lump under a larger mound of blankets when Clarke felt a hand gently grasp her chin, pulling her face and focus to her left, and suddenly she had a problem on her hands, wondering if maybe she had died after all.

What other rationale was there for an angel to be kneeling at her side, staring down at her with soft concern, eyes shining with reflections of a lit fireplace behind Clarke?

None, that's what.

Except in a blink, albeit a slow blink, the angel's features twisted in anger. "You idiot." The angel grumbled, a new fire burning in her eyes. "Clarke Griffin, you absolute idiot! What were you thinking?!"

Everything hurt, everything was freezing, her body wouldn't stop shaking, and the angel was yelling at her. "Car crash. Needed help." She managed to get out, trying to be economical with her words given how it felt like each word was using ice-climbing spikes to ascend up her throat and out into the air.

She'd hoped the angel would understand, but she only seemed angrier, the beautiful blonde getting to her feet, one hand knit tightly in her own hair in exasperation. "You were driving?! In the worst blizzard our town's seen in sixty-eight years?!"

Clarke wanted to speak, but just had no gas in her tank. Thankfully, the lump on her chest responded for her, an annoyed huff sounding out from under the blankets.

"Oh, you be quiet, Tris. You don't even know her." The angel grumped, arms folding across her chest.

Her focus was sharp enough now to recognize the strange half-baked vocalizations of a dog in response to the angel, which in hindsight sort of made sense. What with the heavy weight on her chest and all; some dogs would do that to keep people warm in cold weather.

"Unbelievable. Un-friggin'-believable." The angel muttered, pacing by her makeshift bed. As Clarke looked around herself, she noticed she was pretty intensely covered up with blankets, and there was definitely a large heating pad or three underneath her as well as the dog resting on her body.

And maybe as those details sunk in, and she loosely managed to wrap her arms around the pup atop her, her brain finally clicked that she'd made it to Anya's.

Thank heavens she hadn't embarrassed herself by putting to words what she thought Anya was. Even if the woman did look inexplicably angelic. With her eyes more open now, not straining so much to see anymore, it was clear as day that Anya was clearly hitting her stride in her late twenties, and Clarke's heart lunged at her ribcage at the tiniest notion of maybe getting a chance to connect with her in some way this time around.

Heaven help her.

"Sorry. Promised mom I'd be home for Christmas." She let out, a rattling cough bursting out of her after the struggled to get that last word out, hoping she wasn't too debilitated by her trek through the blizzard for there to have been any permanent harm.

Anya deflated at that, all the anger swiftly seeping away as the woman let out a lengthy exhale, slumping back down to her knees at Clarke's side. "Still an idiot."

Clarke tried to shrug, but she was pretty sure she just winced from the pain that moving her body caused. It was when Anya grabbed the nearby first aid kit and started replacing the bandage on her forehead that Clarke stilled in thought.

Her face had been a little cut up from the crash, but she didn't remember a gash across her forehead. "My head?"

Anya's cheeks took on a pink glow as the woman put her intense focus on the duty at hand. "I didn't expect you to fall when I opened the door." Anya spoke quietly, taking a moment to gnaw at her lower lip a bit. "You might have hit your head on my side-table on your way down after bouncing off me."

"I whaaaat?" It didn't seem realistic. Anya had been their high school softball team's catcher. She was literally tasked with catching blazingly fast balls. A sluggish human popsicle should have been nothing. "You didn't catch me?"

"That's....that's not the point! The point is, you're recovering. You're alive, and you're an idiot." Anya insisted, stumbling over her words a little as the blush on her cheeks deepened. "You still should have waited until tomorrow. Your mother didn't need you arriving at two in the morning on Christmas Eve. You could have waited the six or so hours for the storm to blow through and taper off."

Maybe Anya had a point, but Clarke was the wounded party, it was her right to complain. "I can't believe you let me fall. Always thought you had magic hands." She mumbled, only realizing what she'd said a second or two after she'd aired that thought out. In true Clarke Griffin fashion, a diversion was due. "You know, I'm a doctor now."

"I heard. Maybe you're the one with magic hands now." Anya noted all low and teasing before taking in a sharp gasp. "Oh my god, why am I like this?"

Anya's follow-up was barely audible and quickly spoken as the woman walked off towards the kitchen. However, the words were more than understandable to a doctor with a history of many patients who liked mumbling and speaking softly.

Truth be told, she'd gone to Anya for aid, but the girl had always been compelling. She'd always been beautiful. Lying there on the floor, wrapped up in evidence of Anya's efforts to protect her and heal her despite the woman thinking she was an 'idiot', it wasn't too difficult to let herself be a bit flattered.

Hell, maybe more than that. She'd always been a bit of a risk taker.

"Mmmn, nope, I think I want to give those hands another shot." Anya just scoffed at her remark, a scoff that fell away to a hard laugh, but Clarke fought like hell to hold her sharp focus on Anya as long as she could despite the quickly encroaching exhaustion taking over her. And as soon as Anya met her gaze, and held it second by second, Clarke watched that stark befuddled denial transform to something else, something approaching astonishment. "Always did like your sculptures in art class."

"That was ages ago, Clarke." Still, Anya's voice was softer now, taking small slow steps as she ambled her way back over. "Don't pretend you noticed me back then. You're hurt, and I helped you, but that doesn't mean you're obliged to sweet talk me."

Of course Anya would see a conspiracy. Honestly, after all the bullshit the woman put up with in high school, Clarke didn't blame her. "Hindsight may be twenty-twenty, but I saw you back then. You were always so distant, though...even the times I tried to reach out and see about you, you always managed to keep away. Every time but at prom, at least."

"Well, being the lone trans girl in a school seemingly full of cis straight people can do that. I had to be careful. Being seen around you would mean having a lot more eyes on me, more scrutiny. Wasn't worth the risk. Not...not until that night, at least." Anya explained, making perfect sense given their former context, the woman stopping a foot and a half away. "And now, you're half delusional from the cold, and you don't know what you're saying."

Given the way the haze of exhaustion was sweeping over her, she wasn't entirely sure Anya didn't have a point. "I know I'm cold...and I know I hallucinated that you were an angel..." Clarke mumbled, too far gone towards the edge to really care what was slipping out of her mouth.

Anya was kneeling by her again in what seemed like a second, face all fuzzy around the edges and unfocused, but she could see her smile. God damn could she see that smile from anywhere.

"I'm not that easy, Clarke." She heard the woman turn up the heating blankets a few clicks, and then there were soft lips pressed at her forehead, extinguishing the last shred of effort to stay conscious, confident Anya would keep watching over her.

Maybe she hadn't hallucinated after all.

---

Anya watched Clarke fade away again, the fresh sting of the woman's words bringing tears to her eyes, feeling them as if they were branded across her body. Here Clarke was, wounded and freezing, and it was her fault. It was all her fault.

"If I hadn't wished on that stupid star..." Anya muttered, fingernails digging into her palms as she stared down at her guest for the night.

Her mother was wiser than Anya had ever known; she'd spent her whole life routinely surrounded by superstitions she'd written off as nonsense, but her mother's words rang clear in her head now. That she should have been careful what she wished for, ones granted never came without a counterbalance.

Of course, she understood Newton's third law: for every action there must be an equal and opposite reaction. She'd just never processed silly superstition through that lens, and now Clarke was paying the price of her naiveté and desperation.

"All I wanted was for the woman I loved to come back to me." Anya sighed, slumping down at Clarke's side, brushing the hair out of the doctor's face. "I never expected you. Not now."

In truth, she'd succumbed to a moment of selfishness, wanting her most recent girlfriend back, who had left her before moving halfway across the world to take care of her father. It'd been four months, and the holiday season has always been particularly lonely ever since her mother passed, so maybe she'd had a moment of weakness.

Clarke Griffin was a surprise, though. Hindsight allowed her the clarity to know she'd felt more than just some infatuation for the student association president back in high school; that much was pretty firmly established at their senior prom when Clarke swooped in to her rescue and salvaged her night with a single dance.

It was nothing she'd ever forget, but that love had always firmly been rooted in the past. Ever since then, she'd never been able to think of Clarke and not see her as her beautiful eighteen year old self, in that midnight blue dress, spinning her across the floor and dancing away with her heart.

And sure, sometimes she'd idly wondered where Clarke was over the years, how she was doing, if Clarke ever thought of her.  Usually, she chastised herself for it, knowing they'd only shared a single dance at the end of prom; the last dance, certainly, but still just one before they all went their separate ways.

Now, here Clarke was, all grown up and a doctor, challenging that perfect memory, that untainted love she'd felt for her. All the other women she'd been with across the years had ended differently, often in tears or pain or disillusionment, but the image in her mind of Clarke had been the one pure bit of love she had left, and now fate saw it fit to take that from her as well.

Her mother had been right to be superstitious. Wishing for a woman she loved to come back to her, only for circumstance to ruin that love through the lens of reality, was quite a fitting bit of karma for her, apparently.

Still, she wasn't just about to resign herself to fate.

Anya didn't have much, but she did have a cozy fireplace, some good comfort food, and some music. There were worse ways to cast herself in a nicer light, like rambling at length about the endless hijinks her students got up to in her classes. A dozen kids competitively eating spaghetti-o's and vomiting in near unison afterward wasn't exactly the sort of story to endear Clarke to the idea of reconnecting with her.

Of course, she didn't expect they'd spend Christmas Eve slow dancing to 'You're The Inspiration' like they had back at prom, that brilliant three minutes and forty-seven seconds being a bit difficult to match all these years later, but she'd settle for Clarke promising to keep in touch after she got the wounded woman home for Christmas.

"What do you think, Tris? I already wished on a star...do you think I have a Christmas miracle in store?" She asked softly, earning a huff from her pupper who was clearly not optimistic about her odds. "Yeah, figured as much. I have to try, though."

She watched her dog's tail wag under the thick covers, something Tris wouldn't do if she wasn't sure Clarke was out of the woods, something that gave Anya all the relief in the world.

"I probably have time to get in a bit more holiday baking before I need to hit the hay. Maybe that could help soften the blow of losing her car and me not catching her at the door...even if just a little..." She mused openly, rolling her eyes at her dog's warbled half-barks of disapproval. Tris always did hate when she stayed up long past her bedtime.

Still, cherry cordials and peppermint Oreo truffles, to add onto what she'd already made, might be worth her pup's frustration.

"I promise I won't take long, Tris. You just keep her warm for me until I'm done in the kitchen, okay?"

She allowed herself a laugh at her pup's disgruntled huff before making her way into the kitchen, knowing she needed to be quick, but that come the morning, they'd have something sweet to take away some of the sting.

She just hoped her measures to get Clarke warmed up kept working their magic. Hard as it was to let Clarke out of her sight, she trusted Tris felt the woman was well enough to only have one of them watching over her.

At least until she returned to keep her company for the rest of the night and re-up her bandages.

---

The light against her eyelids was what welcomed her back to consciousness; well, that and a full-body ache. Better than she expected it to be, after the crash and all, but as thankful as she was for the lack of major injury, it all still hurt.

Still, the sun's warm rays against her face after yesterday's blizzard had something more resembling a smile forming on her face than a grimace as she opened her eyes.

Pain in her neck flared up a little as she recoiled, Anya's face much closer than she expected. Hell, she thought Anya was asleep in the bedroom somewhere else in the house, but the woman was curled up just outside her mound of blankets, laid out across the rug, head resting on an insultingly tiny throw pillow.

Preposterous wasn't a strong enough word for how ridiculous it all was, but it was kind of really sweet that Anya was watching over her so closely.

It took a few seconds of sober thought to recognize that she wasn't shivering anymore. That, hell, she wasn't even cold anymore.

It was the second time in her life that Anya had managed to light a fire in her heart. All those years ago, it'd been a shy smile and Anya resting her forehead against hers on the dance floor; it had been the closest she'd ever been to Anya until then, the closest to kissing her, and she'd been able to feel the girls heartbeat as clear as day.

Now, though, there were a few extra inches between them, but Clarke couldn't help but hope that maybe it was a sign that they'd be closer from now on out. That maybe Anya could be open to that.

As strong as her urge was to kiss Anya, even if just on the forehead, she knew she'd need consent for that, so Clarke slowly slipped out from under the covers and got to her feet, deciding that maybe avoiding temptation would be best.

On instinct, her hand lifted to her head to check her bandages, a frown pulling at her mouth as she realized her bandages were fresh. Meaning, Anya had stayed up all night re-dressing them and watching over her. As in, hours and hours of first-rate care when leaving her bandages for a while and letting her warm up over time would have done the trick, more or less.  

If she hadn’t made the effort to stand up already, she would have crossed that distance to at least nuzzle her nose against Anya’s in appreciation for what the woman did for her. In all reality, Anya hardly knew her anymore, and yet she’d treated her with the greatest hospitality she could have ever wished for.

Any doubt of Anya being a total sweetheart was entirely obliterated. Maybe she needed a bit of air.

The cottage was chillier than the veritable furnace of blankets, but not so much that it had Clarke shivering as she took step after deliberate step into the kitchen, Tris following her in with hardly concealed excitement.

“Easy, girl. I’m just getting some distance so I can think about something other than your mama’s lips.” Clarke noted to the happy Samoyed pup. “Still, it is officially morning. I bet you haven’t been fed yet.”

Clarke looked around the room, taking her time to scour the kitchen for the dog food, having noticed the bowl off by the small dining table. Eventually she found a large bag hidden in a pantry cabinet and poured out a cup of it for the eager, cute little goober.

Besides, she owed Tris a bit for warming her up. Feeding her was the least she could do after Anya had a long night.

“Okay, cutie, eat up.” She petted the hungry pupper, taking a moment to consider her own rumbling tummy and what options she had to sate her hunger. Not that she was literally starving, but it’d been a long while since she’d eaten, and the crash had taken a lot out of her. Some food would do her good.

“I’ll pay her back for whatever I eat...” She mumbled to herself as she wandered over to the fridge, pulling it open to peer inside, immediately spotting a tray of candy cane crusted truffles. “Oh my god.”

Clarke picked one up, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment before taking a bite, knees feeling like jelly briefly as she let out a loud moan. “Oh my god!” It’d been a long time since she’d had a treat that tasty. Sure, it wasn’t super fancy, being peppermint chocolate with Oreo inside, but still, very tasty. Enough for her to take a second without much thought.

And maybe a third after a half second of guilt.

She wasn’t about to mow down on all of Anya’s baked goods, at least not one specific bunch. Luckily, Anya had some eggs, bread, jam, and a Tupperware full of sugar cookies. While her body ached like never before, Clarke knew she was capable of making a simple breakfast so long as she took her time and went about half the speed she usually did.  

Tris was finished her meal by the time Clarke started up, the pup standing by her side while she worked away, tail wagging happily against her leg. While waiting for the bread to toast, she spotted a portable sound system not dissimilar to the one Anya used to set up in the art room back in high school after classes.

The girl had always seemed a bit thorny and ran with a gothy-emo vibe way back when, so when she’d discovered the music Anya rocked out to, she’d been surprised to say the very least. All these years later, she wasn’t surprised when she powered it up and found a familiar song waiting for her.

“Nice to see some things haven’t changed.” She mused aloud as the chorus hit, smiling at the memory of Anya singing and dancing to the song while working on one of her sculptures. She hadn’t intruded on the moment, she’d barely allowed herself to enjoy it back then before sneaking off down the hall back to her locker, abandoning her impromptu plans to work on one of her paintings in the art room instead of heading to the usual Friday after-school dinner at Grounders that the student association’s council members.

She’d learned that Anya spent Friday evenings in the art room, and that she was a closet cheeseball.

“Fair warning that there’s no mockery of Roch Voisine or Richard Marx under this roof.”

Clarke turned around to see Anya in the doorway, wiping the sleep from her eyes and looking exceedingly cute.

“Never, babe.”  She smiled, taking the eggs off the frying pan and plating them. “I’d say there’s a breeze on the water blowing time back to me, given the last time we saw each other, but...”

Anya just blinked owlishly at her, so maybe she’d stepped a bit too far there. While it was absolutely the song she’d heard Anya singing and dancing to in the old art room, it also reminded her of prom night, of finding Anya outside in the rain, face angled up to the sky, rain washing away her tears.

Kissing Rain, so to speak. Not that she’d make that pun and potentially ruin the song for Anya.

“Babe?”

Oh.

Her cheeks burned at the casual slip, but it didn’t escape her attention that Anya didn’t seem upset. If anything, there might have been the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, which was what had Clarke stepping closer. “Can’t help it after everything. Are you hungry? I’m sorry for poaching your food, I’ll pay you ba...”

Anya waved her off, blinking heavily at her. “I’m fine. Ate breakfast two hours ago with Tris.” Clarke shot the Samoyed a disbelieving glance, realizing the pup had tricked her. It was a rookie mistake, and maybe one she deserved given how Tris had helped her, but still. "But don't worry about the food. Take what you like, and then get back to where I left you...you need to rest and stay warm, Clarke."

"Worrywart." Anya cocked an eyebrow at her remark, even if it was entirely on point. "Okay, I'll come back if we set up somewhere more comfortable together. You need the sleep, and I need the warmth, and we both could use a softer surface."

Anya's eyes grew wide, jaw dropping ever so slightly. "Was your section not padded enough? I just wanted to have you as close to the fireplace, and I don't have one in my room, so..."

She waved Anya off, though Anya didn't seem the least bit reassured by her gesture. "It was perfectly fine, it's just that I don't think I need to be close to that much heat anymore, and I think you could use a better sleeping surface than your floor. But if you're not comfortable with using your bed, I'm sure the couch would be good enough."

The laughter that escaped Anya was weak, and a little stilted. "I'm sorry, that sounds like you were....that you want me to share a bed with you." Anya let out, turning her head away, focus shifting across the kitchen, clearly trying to look at anything that wasn't her. "I told you I'm not that easy."

"I never said you were. Like I told you way back when, you can trust me to keep things above board with consent. It's just you've been taking care of me all night like a total sweetheart, and you deserve a good rest, and at this point, I'm pretty sure a nice duvet and your body heat would be enough to keep me nice and toasty. It's a win-win." She watched Anya's teeth descend into her lip, the woman's hand lifting to scratch at the back of her neck a bit, weight shifting from one foot to the next.

"Eat up, and then head down the hallway and to the room on the left. I'll get the bed set up."

Anya wandered off at a brisk pace and left Clarke to her breakfast, Tris happily following her mama through the home. As flustered as Anya seemed, she hadn't rejected Clarke's proposal, meaning she had a nice, warm bed waiting for her after this.

Which, despite the minor effort involved in making breakfast, really did seem like a damn good idea with how her body was aching and energy flagging. Maybe one more bit of resting could help her get to where she could head home for the holidays. Getting to snuggle with Anya would just be a very nice bonus.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse! Happy holidays!

[intheclique]

CLIQUE talks ‘Kane Hannay’

In the words of Kane Hannay,’

‘Let the fun commence…’

Respected DJ.

Well-oiled producer in music.

And all-round nice guy.

Kane Hannay is no stranger to music production and the scene in Newcastle.

From an un-decisive young career taking him to ventures in photography, and the arts.

Kane Hannay separates himself in knowing exactly what he wants to do.

From hosting RUDOSA apart of his co-created brand ‘Raw Material’ to producing music like, ‘Intermittent Signals’ & his remix of ‘Outlander’ : ‘The Vamp’ he most certainly is making a very mature and well signalled named for himself in not only the North East but throughout the Industry as a whole.

As we sit down on this not so sunny day.

What lies ahead for the future of Kane Hannay?

Let’s find out…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Hey Kane

First off thanks for taking the time to talk to us this afternoon.

It’s awesome, no problem.

Bit miserable isn’t it?

Yeah, aye its been bleak like.

How’s your day been?

Aye it’s been alright, not too bad. Been at work since 9 so looking forward to making some tunes.

How you been handling lock-down?

It’s been alright.

I haven’t really been anywhere other than work.

Other than that, it’s just been pretty much finishing coursework. Now that that’s all done it leaves me time to produce as much music as I can over the summer holidays.

I’ve actually got a remix I’m working on at the moment for another upcoming artist, ‘Vollans.’

Lee (one half of Acid Enigma) messaged me about producing a track to feature in a various artist compilation for ‘ESCALATE’ so that should be sick! So just being a busy bee…

So, tell us how’d you get into music?

Well… I’ve been into it for years and especially when I was younger, I’m talking like even at nursery age.

I have always been into it for years and especially when I was younger, I’m talking as young as nursery / reception age.

I have always been into music, might not be the same as what I’m into now but I have always been deeply interested in it. I remember being a small bairn dancing at the top of the stairs with my parent’s old hi-fi system and a little disco ball.

At the age of 12 I got my first controller. It was a Numark Mixtrack Pro. The bee’s knee back in the day. 

I think around then I was listening to dubstep. However, over the years it progressed from that to electro house, garage, tech-house, and then finally for the last three years I’ve been glued to techno.

At 14 I got into the production of music. A friend from school was making tunes on his laptop and I was hooked. That’s when it all started. I was coming home every night after school and cooking up a new track.

At 16 after finishing my GCSE’s I really didn’t know what I wanted to do. I wasn’t the best student academically, so 6th form wasn’t an option. I had to visit Newcastle College where I found a music production course for electronic music. I picked up loads of good tips and got to meet some brilliant people there. At 18 I started the 3-year degree course. I’m coming into my last year this September.

Tell us about your latest song ‘Intermitted Signals.’ How did it come about?

So right, it’s funny because it’s; ‘the fastest song I’ve produced’in a while.

3 days max. Including the mastering.

It’s a fast-paced industrial track that consists of hard punchy drums, a trippy rolling lead and a calling vocal. (Link to track.)

It was for a project for college. I was running late, and I had to make an EP. Normally I’d spend days on a loop before eventually arranging it.

I simply must work my best under pressure. *chuckles*

Amazing stuff, so is it just techno you’re into? What else makes you move?

I pretty much listen to techno all the time. I do occasionally listen to jungle, and I love the old school drum and bass. I take some inspiration from it because it consists of heavy sampling which I find is my strength in the production of music.

I still listen to bits of house music as that’s what most of my DJ mates play.

You co created RAW MATERIAL tell us a little about it?

So, I came up with the idea about two years ago of creating an imprint called ‘Raw Material’ for dark industrial techno. It didn’t come to life till about a year ago when a module on our course was based around putting on an event. Me and co-founder Adam. (who I couldn’t have worked without) assembled a team amongst other students on our course. We were given a budget from the college £200 per student. There were seven of us in total. So, we looked at various venues in the toon to put a night on mid-week.

We were close to securing ‘The Cut’ however we had £1400 to put on a night and I wanted to go the extra mile of booking a headline act. I knew exactly who I wanted.

A huge inspirational artist of mine who I have been following since his first release on ‘SUARA’ back in 2018. We went over budget and I spend a grand out of my own pocket to pay for the extra costs.

As this was a side project for me, I wasn’t interested in continuing it after the first event. However, seeing how happy and how hard people were going for it. It felt amazing seeing it and it pushed me to another one in the future.

Although I lost lots of money, seeing how happy people were made up for it to think that we were able to make an event like this happen.

I’m hoping to recruit passionate upcoming techno artists in Newcastle to be a part of future events to support big artist bookings and for ‘Raw Material’ to become the leading event in Newcastle for techno.

Who’s your ideal booking?

Oooooo its always changing. It’s not necessarily who I want to book but more of which bookings can you bring crowds into.

I don’t intend on doing this for-profit bit I need to make sure I can make my money back. My ideal booking would be Glasgow’s finest ‘SLAM’ however there are many different artists like ‘Paula Temple, Rebekah, SHDW & Obscure Shape.’

I’m actually looking after lock-down to get a club booked but honestly, I think Newcastle could do with a booking like ‘SLAM.’

Who’d you like to collab with?

Collaborations I don’t normally think about but if I could at the moment I would choose ‘MRD’ or ‘Blicz.’ I love ‘Kahyia’ and would love to learn how to produce tracks like that.

I love the sounds and vibe in Gate 212 from ‘Blicz.’ Both artists own some amazing gear which I would love to try out.

Favorite Gig?

Since turning 18 I’ve attended a fair number of gigs in the toon. Loads of amazing nights out but if I had to choose one it would be ‘LOOP’ presents ‘Amelie Lens’ at ‘Digital Newcastle.’

It had the strongest line up support from ‘Farrago’ and ‘Milo Spykers.’ The sets were unbelievable. Proper hard and driving techno and it was ‘PACKED.’

Still wish I could revisit that night again.

Favorite Festival?

I’ve never been to a festival *shock* * facepalm* although I will eventually go to one.

Whisky or Beer?

Depends but I like well, quite like ‘Jack Daniels. Whisky it is ha-ha.

Perfect night out?

I’m not really into your typical student nights out in Newcastle. I’m more over a raver ha-ha.

My ideal night out would be like ‘APEX’ or ‘LOOP’. Basically, anything Techno.

Who influences you the most?

Pretty simple, RUDOSA.

I honestly think the stuff that he does like hiss DJ school, his own production style, the music he plays in his set. It’s unbelievable. He’s helping so many producers as well like myself.

I sent him a track and he gave me feedback to work on. He’s doing so much for the scene and that’s why I look up to him.

Honestly if it wasn’t my event he was playing at. I’d be all over the dance floor… ha-ha * true story *

Where do you see yourself in 3 years’ time?

I would like to have a full love set sorted by then. I recently bought a ‘Xone96 mixer’ and it connects to Ableton so hopefully 3 years’ time I can perform a full hour or twos set for a side project.

I’d hope by that point to have actually pulled a finger out and actually send an EP off to a decent size label like ‘SUARA.’ It’s a big label but pushes a harder style of techno as a pose to your Drumcode and WATB.

I’d like to have my tracks played out by bigger artists in the scene. But who knows what the future holds.

Any advice for those starting out?

My advice would be don’t pull a ‘Kane Hannay.’

Actually, watch tutorials on YouTube to learn how to do things because that’s probably the reason it’s taken me so long to get where I am with my production. I can’t watch a video without trying something random on Ableton. However, this has allowed me to be creative with my productions.

If you’re DJing and want to be the next ‘Amelie Lens, SNTS,’ or whatever. You need to produce music. Anyone can DJ but it’s your music that sets us apart from the next Artist.

Don’t sign your tracks to small labels. There’s no point in spending days making a tune to send it off to a label where no one will listen. Aim for larger or medium (well known) labels.

And go into your email and send them demo’s off to DJ’s and producers.

Shy bairns get nowt…

Thanks again Kane. Have an amazing evening.

CLIQUE

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #415

Top Ten Films that Should Have Dominated the Oscars

So it was the Oscars last weekend. I didn’t watch, as it’s on in the middle of the night and you have to leave a lantern in the shape of Bob Hope burning outside your house if you want access to the telecast, or some arcane nonsense. I used to watch it, either staying up late or recording it for the next day’s enjoyment; this was back in the good old days when the show would go to a commercial and the BBC broadcast would cut to Barry Norman in a studio somewhere discussing the night’s events with, I dunno, Tracey Ullman or Julian Sands or something.

Anyway, it was nice that Parasite won, just because it’s nice to see a foreign language film winning Best Picture. I wasn’t too caught up with the hype and hoopla this year, because I didn’t have a dog in the race; sadly, I’d barely seen any of the nominated films. Also, Avengers: Endgame was more-or-less nowhere to be seen. In previous years – back in the pre-kid days when I used to see a lot more movies – I was very invested. I still have very fond memories of the year Return of the King swept the board. And, as such, there are years when I was disappointed when other, better films didn’t make the grade. Obviously things are all relative, awards shows are just beauty contests, and there’s a political edge to the whole thing regardless. But still; over time, there’s been a few films of such staggering quality that, in retrospect, it’s baffling that they didn’t sweep the board. Some of these films did win Oscars; some weren’t even nominated in the major categories. But here are my ten favourite films that should have been awards behemoths.

And, y’know, it’s all a bit of fun.

LA Confidential, 1998 Oscars: did win Adapted Screenplay, Supporting Actress; should have won Picture, Director, with nominations for Actor (both Pearce and Crowe) & Supporting Actor (Spacey – yeah, I know, but back then he was good). This film is a modern noir masterpiece, amazingly adapted and directed. Titanic reigned supreme that year, and whilst LAC is miles better, the big ship did deserve its editing and design awards.

Goodfellas, 1991 Oscars: did win Supporting Actor; should have won Picture, Director, Actor (Liotta), Adapted Screenplay, Editing, with noms for Cinematography & Art Direction. My favourite Scorsese; full of his wit and verve and violence and sadness. Dances with Wolves was the biggie, and whilst I’ve got a lot of love for that film (not seen it in years, mind), we should have been honouring Marty a long time ago.

E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, 1983 Oscars: won Score & Visual Effects; should have won Picture, Director, Screenplay, with noms for Actor (Thomas), Supporting Actress (Wallace, and maybe even Barrymore), & Art Direction. Perfectly Spielbergian, marrying his personal sentimentality with mainstream appeal, but decidedly not a blockbuster in scope or intent; a small, intimate story. Phenomenally directed, especially the kids, and Thomas gives an awards-worthy performance. Legend has it when Richard Attenborough won for Gandhi he whispered to Spielberg, “This should have been yours”. That’s probably bollocks, mind.

Fight Club, 2000 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Supporting Actress (Carter), Adapted Screenplay, Editing, Art Direction, Cinematography, with noms for Actor (both Norton and Pitt), Visual Effects. Probably way too dark and nihilistic to gain traction, but a perfect representation of its time (and, with the rise of toxic masculinity, still painfully relevant). The effort in realising it should have earned Fincher awards, and its subtle but effective effects work was quietly groundbreaking.

Pulp Fiction, 1995 Oscars: won Screenplay; should have won Picture, Director, Supporting Actor (Jackson), Supporting Actress (Thurman), with noms for Cinematography, Art Direction, Costuming. Famous in my youth for the winner that never was, trumped by Forrest Gump (which, to be fair, is pretty great). But this is Tarantino’s best movie, and should have been rewarded, and – I’m sorry – but Jackson really should have beaten Martin Landau. “Shit” indeed, Nick Fury. This actually was a harder one, because The Shawshank Redemption also came out this year; if that had beaten Pulp in the big awards, it would have been a lot more deserving, and Tim Robbins should have won Best Actor.

Singin' in the Rain, 1953 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Supporting Actor (O’Connor), Screenplay, Song, Score, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume Design, with noms for Actor (Kelly) & Actress (Reynolds). Arguably the greatest Hollywood musical ever made. A stunning directorial achievement, a visual spectacle, and O’Connor deserved the Oscar just for the way he runs up a wall singing Make ‘Em Laugh. And it got two nominations.

Jaws, 1976 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Actor, Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Editing, Score, Cinematography. Like ET, Jaws is a Spielberg blockbuster by virtue of how much it made, not its content. It's a small, meticulously crafted character piece that, with its everyman hero and vague aura of political corruption, feels very much of its time. And it's a masterpiece.

Trainspotting, 1997 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Editing. It feels harder for British films to succeed at the Oscars, but this one should have cleaned up (no pun intended). It's such a brilliant adaptation, directed with such assurity and confidence, turning an unfilmable book into an essential movie, and anchored by a career-best Ewan McGregor.

Citizen Kane, 1942 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Actor, Screenplay, Editing, Cinematography, Art Direction. It's easy to mock, but this film was a revolution and a sensation, and Welles was an outstanding visionary and talent. Look at the films coming out around this time, then look at Kane. Its lack of widespread awards success is almost entirely political. But it inspired a cracking Simpson episode, so I guess it had the last laugh.

Avengers: Endgame, 2020 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay, Visual Effects, Editing, Score, with noms for Actor (Downey Jr), Sound Effects, Sound Effects Editing, and Cinematography. Look, I know this was never gonna happen. And I'll trust the many who say Parasite is better. But the Oscars don’t - shouldn't – just reward quality. They're a cultural artefact, and as such they need to reflect where cinema is at a given moment. So I think they should have given Endgame a slew of big rewards, as if to honour the effort and achievement in bringing the MCU to the screen so successfully over the last decade. Also – and I mean this sincerely – it rocks.

[ynibytina]

Meet Spencer Kane!!!

I fell in love with Spencer Kane's voice when I heard his song "One Of THE Kind" on Youtube. The message of the song is simple: everyone is different, so stand out and be yourself, and don't be a bully. I recently got to interview this Kendallville, Indiana native that is a spokesperson for PACER's National Bully Prevention Center and also is just about to perform on the 2013 iShine Live tour. If you want to learn more about him, you can check out his personal website, YouTube channel, or Facebook & Twitter pages.

Favorite Musicians: Tobymac, Lecrae, Trip Lee, Jor'Dan Armstrong, Jason Derulo, Capital Kings, The Ground Above.

Favorite Movies: Ace Ventura Pet Detective (#1) & any action movies.

Favorite Books: I Am Number 4 Series.

Favorite Color: Blue.

Favorite Holiday: Christmas.

Mac or PC: Both.

Twitter or Facebook: Twitter.

Blackberry or iPhone: iPhone.

Chocolate or Vanilla: Vanilla.

Winter or Summer: Summer.

Pancakes or Waffles: Pancakes.

Math or Science: Math.

Past, Present, or Future: Present & Future.

What's your favorite song off your new EP besides "One of THE Kind?"

Move-In The Right Direction is my favorite on the EP because even though I wrote 4 of the 5 songs on the EP, that is the one which I was most involved in creating the music and overall production. The other songs I sang and gave input, but they were more directed by the Executive Producer and Producer. I like them all, but Move In The Right Direction was almost like I was able to help assemble each piece of the song the whole way through. The others I would sing my vocals and then kind of wait for the producer to give me a rough cut with music that I could critique and just kind of wait to see what happened. MITRD was very hands-on in the studio in Nashville for me and that will always be my best memory of this EP.

What made you realize you wanted to pursue a career in music?

I believe it was when I was 13 and auditioned for a local version of an Idol competition in my county. There were like over 100 people who tried out in my age category (under 16) and I made the top 10 and actually finished 2nd place. (The video of this performance is on my Youtube channel). I sang Sunday Morning by Maroon 5 and the judges of that competition were professional artists and voice trainers. They all said I did well. So when I look back and see that someone other than family felt I may have a chance to do something with music, it sort of made it easier to choose to pursue it. But even then and until the past 6 months, I was still not sure if it was something I'd do as a hobby or pursue professionally. Once I met with iShine in Nashville and Robert Beeson (founder of Essential Records who originally signed Jars of Clay and Third Day, and like the winner of 6 Grammys and a bunch of Dove Awards) I was told I had good potential. So, I guess that made it even more clear that I should take it more seriously. I'm such a jock athlete, it's been hard to walk away from a life in sports and dream of playing at the highest levels, but right now I'm just like taking it a step at a time and hopefully this upcoming tour starting on February 15 will make the picture even more clear. LOL.

What can you expect to see in the fourth season of iShine Knect?

The show is based on a school of performing arts and students who are talented in a lot of ways. It centers around The Rubyz, Mission 6 and a few other regulars. This new season was my first and I play myself in the show (Spencer Kane). I have a few episodes where I have more speaking lines than not, but many where I am just an extra in the background. I do know we filmed me performing my entire EP on stage at a concert at TBN Studios in Nashville the beginning of December 2012. I know they will be showing me singing on some episodes. I really liked the scripts and the topics of each show and think the over 1 million kids who tune in each week will like it too.

Your song "One of THE Kind" is about bullying. You recently became a spokesperson for PACER's National Bullying Prevention Center. How did that come along?

Yes. That song was based a lot on my own personal experiences in junior high and still even now being bullied for things. But it's also about some of the sad stories I've been told by fans around the world who face bullying in their own country just like here. Some places it's worse than here, but bullying is bullying. So the song is kind of my way of telling people to reach out and be kind and talk to people who may be hurting. PACER was a site that we submitted my song to in hopes they would tweet it or at least post a link on their site of the music video since it was based on what they are all about. That kind of led to a few phone calls from them to learn more about me and after a conference call with my manager in early December along with my dad and I, we sort of agreed to move forward in them helping me with bullying prevention curriculum to share at my live performances and them having me become a national spokesman for their organization. It's quite an honor since Demi Lovato has been their primary spokesperson for the past 5 or 6 years. They work with Disney and The Ellen Show as a partner against bullying, so it's really cool to know that they believe in my message enough to want to join together in our efforts to prevent bullying.

Someone once said write what you would want to perform over and over again. With that in mind, if you could only sing one song on stage (one of your own songs and one cover song), what would it be and why?

Great question. Right now I'd have to say "Be Alright" by Justin Bieber is one that I relate to and think I can sing well in a live performance. Reason To Be from my new EP is one that I actually like to sing because I believe the producer helped me to get the best out of my vocals on that song. I think people that hear the song really connect emotionally and in a live concert, that's what you really hope for.

What does a current day in your life look like?

Haha! Well, thank goodness right at the moment it's not been as crazy as it was from June until Christmas in 2012. But the tour is coming up in February and March and I'll be on the road for nearly 5 consecutive weeks and that will probably be crazy. But I'm a full-time H.S. student and varsity basketball player. I wake up early for school at like 6:15am and have to travel like 20 miles to get there one way. I usually have practice or a game 6 days a week, so I can usually plan on being up until 10pm working on homework, home chores, or cramming whatever other free time I have into something to do with music like chatting with fans online, or rehearsing music, writing music, listening to music, filming music videos or Vlogs, or even doing interviews or performances somewhere. Most people don't know HOW I fit my life in, but we seem to manage as a family right now. I'm sure my schedule after the tour may look different.

Besides music and sports, what do you like to do for fun?

I'm an Xbox gamer. I love playing online against friends or people I don't know. I'm very competitive so I like being able to try to beat my personal best score or be able to talk smack to a friend if I can manage to beat them. I play sports games or Call of Duty. Otherwise, I'm a movie guy. My parents and I watch a lot of movies when we have the time. I have a pretty beast-man cave in my basement where my dad and I just chill, so that's fun. Sometimes I go to the mall or hang with friends, but not very often.

What does your family think of your performances and how do they support you?

Well grandma's, of course, think I'm amazing. LOL. But honestly, my aunts and uncles are pretty supportive too. My best friend is my cousin Evan who is also 16 and he and I go to the same school. He is a huge supporter of me too. But my mom and dad are probably my biggest help. Dad owns a marketing company and is a photographer and videographer. He films all my music videos and edits them. He also does all my pictures so that is a huge help. He manages my marketing stuff like album cover art, and posters, and making my website. He like takes care of a lot of the business stuff for me like contracts and stuff. Mom is my cheerleader and is always checking out the "fangirls" to make sure they aren't up to something that will hurt her little boy. LOL. But I'd say that a lot of what I do with music is because God put me in a great family. My parents always try to make sure I have time to be a kid and have as normal a life as possible. So I guess that is a huge help too.

What's the best part about working with iShine?

I think the fact that I can be the artist I want to be and don't have to meet a stereotype that people expect when you're working with a Christian media group like iShine. I mean, the first time we ever met I explained that I'm definitely a Christian and always want my music to be morally positive, but I have NO plans or call to be a "Christian Artist". Like I don't envision me making albums of praise and worship type songs. It's not who I am or how I want to make music. iShine owners and management said they appreciated my sincerity and honesty and that it made them even more supportive of working with me. They believe my music will reach a broad group of young people who may or may not be Christians and that, I guess, is a good thing for them. So, they have been amazingly helpful in developing me and teaching me about the music industry. They let me work with Jeff Savage (Tobymac's Grammy Winning producer from the album Momentum and Diverse City and the writer of Irene and J Train). That alone was amazing to know I was working with him. He's awesome. He produced One of the Kind, 413 and Blue Sky from my new EP. So just working with him and then working with Zach Hall (producer of Newsboys "God is Not Dead" album) was also amazing. So I just think our goal in 2012 was to be able to work with professional and experienced producers who could help my music get to the next level, and iShine has definitely helped me to do that.

If you could perform anywhere in the world, where would you play and why?

I think anywhere in a huge venue with like 100,000 fans would be incredible. Even like 20,000 fans would be insane. I think the location isn't as important as knowing I would be able to perform for people who really wanted to see me perform. That's going to always be my goal. I love making music videos and seeing people like them on Youtube, but performing live in front of a huge audience would be fantastic.

[ya-boi-hawkeye]

Mistakes Were Made

Ren leaned against the railing, looking out over the jungle. The war was nearing its end, he could sense it. They had returned to Depredador to help finally drive the First Order out, and Ren knew the last battle would be any day now. Stela was a mess of nervous energy as a result, something Ren was reaping the benefits of. There were footsteps, and Ren turned, only to find Miles taking a place next to him on the railing. “When Stela first brought you back,” he said, “I thought we were all kriffed. I knew why she did it, it was too good an opportunity to pass up, but stars if I didn’t think would wind up killing us. I gave her some shit for it, but truth be told I would have done it too. Would have questioned you just once.” He laughed a bit. “She broke her own rule when she did it, you know? She was very clear, if anyone ever saw you, they were to not engage you. The orders were to return to base, get as much back up as possible, and put you down without hesitation. She broke that rule. She damn well broke it twice.” “So I’ve heard,” Ren said, his voice cold. He didn’t much care for Miles, didn’t care for how the man spoke to Stela or about her. “Apparently Kane gave her hell for the first time.” “And then you escaped,” Miles continued, not paying attention to Ren’s words. “It was sort of inevitable, if you ask me. Our luck had run out, it always does.” There was a somber note in his voice, something haunted behind his eyes. “You escaped, and Stela did the only thing stupider than trying to hold you. She went after you.” He paused, ground his teeth together. “We all knew she wasn’t coming back.” Ren considered interrupting again, but thought against it. He wasn’t sure what direction the conversation was taking, but he didn’t think interrupting Miles would actually help anyone. “Some men went looking for her body,” Miles said, tapping his fingers against the rail. “When they didn’t find any, we figured you had taken it. Rumor had it you liked your trophies. For that brief moment when she was gone, I was right. She made a mistake, and it had killed her.” He took a breath. “It was the worst feeling of my life.” “Then you came back, and instead of shooting you she let you live. I couldn’t believe it, she was making the same kriffing mistake all over again. So I said something. I mean, I had said something the last time, too, but that time I really said something. Made a big fuss about it, called her competency into question. Pissed you off.” Ren nodded. “I remember that,” he said. “I didn’t like how you were speaking to her.” Miles ignored him. “She let you live when she saw you in the forest, because your cousin bullied her into it, and she didn’t want to piss off the militia, and she let your cousin bully her into giving you free range before you had earned it. And now,” he continued, “not only has she let you live, twice, but she’s shacking up with you. You know what I think of that?” “I don’t see how it’s any of your concern,” Ren forced out through grit teeth, “who Stela is with or not.” Not that Ren thought it would deter the man, he had long ago noticed that Miles tended to voice his opinion whether those around him wanted it or not. Miles took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he did so. “I think I haven’t seen Stela this happy since we lost James.” Ren opened his mouth, found himself at a loss for words, then closed it again. A dark look came over Miles, and he took a half step towards Ren. “You could probably kick my ass,” Miles said. “Easily. But if you abuse this, if you do anything to hurt her, I’ll damn well give it my all to make you suffer.”

Ren’s first thought, as his mind processed the threat, was a pleasant iteration of Miles you mother fucker.

He couldn’t help but be immediately annoyed by it—Ren wasn’t particularly concerned with Miles’ threat, he could smear the man against the pavement with a passing thought if he really wanted to. The implication behind it, however, was problematic. Because it was really so much easier when Miles was just an annoying asshole.

Unfortunately, Ren had the Force, and he could feel the sincerity in the man’s words. He wouldn’t kid himself into thinking that Miles actually liked Stela, on a personal level. No matter what they wouldn’t really get along, and even if Ren did kick his ass it wouldn’t stop him from questioning her decisions. But he did respect her, and he cared for her as a commander, as a leader, even if he didn’t always agree with her.

But Ren didn’t want a shovel talk from kriffing Miles of all people. Ursa, yes, and even Kane, both of whom had given him quite impressive speeches, but not Miles. Miles ‘I-don’t-kriffing-know-what-to-do-with-my-dick’ Sol.

“I’m not going to hurt her.” He answered tersely. “More than that if I did, you’d be the last person I’d have to worry about.”

Miles opened his mouth to argue that, but Ren was decidedly not having it and lifted a hand to silence him.

“No, shut up. Just shut the fuck up. You listen to me. You’re a colossal asshole, and I don’t like you. I really don’t like you. I don’t like the way you talk to Stela, I don’t like the way you talk about Stela, and every time you open your mouth I immediately want to tell you to shut the fuck up.”

Among other, less friendly things.

It was, admittedly, rather amusing watching Miles turn red at that, brows pulling down in annoyance, but Ren wasn’t planning on only insulting him. Though insulting him was fun.

“Unfortunately for me, you’re a decent shot, and you’re pretty damn good in tactical meetings so you’re probably going to stick around.” And Miles really was a rather valuable part of the Militia when it was all said and done.

He was good at planning, good at running through preliminary strike operations and refining them. And even if he was a fuck-head who constantly contradicted Stela, there was a benefit to that as well. It having that doubt kept her sharp, made sure she was extra prepared, and as loathe as Ren was to admit it, he had helped point out a few fatal mistakes.

“I don’t like you.” Ren repeated, glaring at him. “I don’t respect you. But I know that you do respect Stela, for all the flak you give her. And I know that this is coming from the same respect for her that had other members of the Militia inquiring as to my intentions so I’ll tell you what I told them. I care about Stela, and I care about Martin. I don’t know why she thinks I’m worth her time, but it’s not my decision to make, or yours.”

He took a deep breath. “As long as she’ll have me, I’m her man. No matter what.”

A tense, thick silence hung between them, Ren glaring at Miles and—he had to give the man credit—Miles stared right back, unflinching.

“Okay.” He nodded, taking a step back, gaze skittering back to the jungle. “Okay, good, so long as we’re clear.”

Ren nodded too, and then the silence turned more than slightly awkward. Luckily for them, it didn’t last long, as yet another set of bootsteps approached. Ren didn’t need to look to see that it was Nia, could feel the Force warping around her like light twisting around a black hole.

Even if he didn’t have the Force, she had come with a purpose.

“Hey, dumbass.” She called, looking up from a datapad. “Come on, I need you to look over a couple of details for a mission.”

Ren turned in confusion, unaware of any prospective missions going out and wondering why she expected him to drop everything and help her with it. He would, of course, but normally Nia didn’t ask for his input.

“Not you dumbass.” She replied, reading his look. “You dumbass.” Miles stepped away completely from Ren, taking the datapad and heading back to base, pausing expectantly to watch Nia. “Yeah, yeah, go. Sooner you get me the all clear, the sooner we skip to the goodbye sex.”

“Nia.” Ren scolded, shaking his head in disgust at her helpless shrug.

“What? I like what’s in his pants, especially now that he knows what to do with it.” She grinned wolfishly.

And Ren had to admit, it was a little hilarious watching Miles turn tomato red and stalk off with a low grumble.

[isolationshepherd-blog]

CHAPTER THREE – FEAST AND FIGHT

Arkholm Tower, Roxburghshire

The first two days following Abigail’s second encounter with Marcus Kane passed quickly. Alasdair had sent word from Edinburgh that he would be returning for two nights with the Lords Elliot and Douglas and they would require a banquet. Abigail spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Hannah, choosing the foods that would be served, organising the purchase of specialist items from the market in Kelso. She would have liked to have gone to Kelso herself to help the servants pick the sweet treats and wine they would have with the banquet but Sinclair was still uneasy about her leaving the tower. She didn’t want to waste what might be her only chance on a visit to the town when she might need to visit the loch again in a few days. Not that she was really going to go and see Kane. She had decided that it would be a mistake and she was resolute on that, but there might be a reason she would need to see him, even if it was to tell him they could not meet again. It was better to save up the day, just in case.

Abigail had also spent time with Harper, designing a new dress to replace the one Kane had ripped. She was tempted to make something simpler, that she could move in more easily, but Alasdair would expect the dress to rival the previous one, so she and Harper had gone all out to create a dress that would show off Abigail’s best assets in spectacular fashion. She wanted the Lords to be unable to take their eyes off her, wanted Alasdair to see that other men found her desirable. The material was blue silk again but a deep blue this time, like the sky on the warmest of summer days. Harper said it made Abigail’s eyes as brown as a salmon river and that had made her laugh. It was a compliment even if it didn’t sound like one. Harper was in Abigail’s bed chamber, busy sewing the dress together. The last time Abigail had looked in on her the girl was threading the delicate mother of pearl buttons that only just held the bodice in place. Her mind drifted again to the moment in the rushes when Kane had stripped the buttons off the previous dress. She wondered what he would make of its replacement, not that he would ever get to see it; but if he did, she thought he would like it very much indeed.

On the third day, Alasdair arrived with the Lords, their wives and retinues. It was a large number of people to accommodate in a relatively small tower. All of the Griffin servants, with the exception of the guards, had been billeted in the village for the duration and the second floor had been given over to the guests. The first floor had been laid out for banqueting, the long oak table covered with a cream cloth. A claret-coloured runner with the crest of the Griffin clan embroidered in golden thread ran down the centre. Abigail had chosen the large wooden candlesticks with the griffin heads carved into them and these had been lit, the tall, waxy candles bringing a soft light into the room. Alasdair was proud of his name and crest, loved showing it off to visitors. The mythological Griffin was a powerful and majestic creature and she suspected that was how Alasdair saw himself. Abigail thought the lion and the eagle that made up the griffin were indeed appropriate. Both were creatures that dominated by devouring everyone beneath them.

Earlier in the day, Abigail and Harper had been out on the moor that surrounded the tower to pick the purple heather and this was adorning the rooms, adding extra colour to complement the wall hangings and tapestries that gave the stone walls some warmth. The heather also filled the rooms with its delicate perfume. Abigail walked through the room one last time before the feast, running her fingers over the smooth damask of the tablecloth. Everything looked perfect; she hoped Alasdair would be pleased.

 The Cheviot Hills, 20 miles south of Arkholm

On the evening of the Griffins’ banquet, Kane was at The Hundred’s camp in the Cheviot Hills south of Jedburgh. The camp was substantial with twenty buildings to house the men. The houses were long and narrow and followed an age-old design. The frames were made from tree trunks the men cut down from the nearby forest and erected into the shape of an A, with walls of thin willow branches woven between stakes. This simple frame was covered with mud, clay and cow dung which hardened to provide protection from wind and rain. The roofs were thatched with heather collected from the moor. Being made entirely from natural materials obtained from their surroundings, the houses could be erected quickly and abandoned in a moment should the camp be discovered. As Second in Command of the group, Kane had a house to himself, as did their leader, Jaha, but the other men lived five or six to a dwelling.

Night had fallen and Kane was sat at a rough-made table in his dwelling, his head bent over a piece of paper he was attempting to read by the poor light of a single candle. He was checking an inventory of their latest acquisitions. In the last month, the Hundred had stolen two hundred head of cattle, eighty horses, one thousand sheep and fifty bolls of corn plus jewels and a small amount of cash. Most of the animals had already been sold on but the money they had made was not enough. It was never enough. It cost a lot of money to feed a hundred people, even when those people lived mainly hand to mouth and survived on potage, the thick soup that sustained most of the poorer borderers, whether they be reivers or legitimate farmers. The soup contained whatever came to hand, mainly cereal, roots and fungi sometimes supplemented with the meat from small animals and birds they hunted. The sheep they plundered were too valuable to go into the pot, but if they came across a dead sheep on their travels, that was butchered and went in too. The large pot that was kept permanently on the fire in the main house had not seen any meat for three weeks now and the men were starting to complain.

Low down on the inventory, towards the bottom of the final page, was a note of Abby’s necklace. Murphy had recorded its acquisition before Kane had managed to steal it back, and he now had the problem of explaining its disappearance. The cross was valuable, worth nearly as much as all the animals they had taken from the Lord of Arkholm. Kane bristled at the thought of that man. Alasdair Griffin had a reputation that Kane was keenly aware of and he had seen the man’s callousness for himself on the night of the raid. He had ignored his wife as she was robbed and roughly-handled by Murphy, hadn’t even looked up when Kane brought her back from supposedly ravaging her. If he hadn’t known how it would have destroyed Abby, he would have gloated to her cold-hearted husband about how good it was to have his wife.

Kane patted the breast pocket of his jacket, feeling the cross within. If anyone asked, he would just have to feign ignorance of its loss. He wasn’t going to accuse any of the other reivers of theft because that would lead to their execution. The rules of the Hundred clan were very clear. All crimes committed against the clan by its members were punishable by death. It was the only way to maintain order amongst a group of thieves and murderers.

Kane put aside the inventory and took out a fresh piece of parchment. He had been trying to compose his ballad to the maid o’ the loch since he had seen her two days before, but the words wouldn’t come. He could describe her long golden-brown hair and her eyes that were the colour of the poteen that was distilled secretly in the hills, deep brown and peaty, but he couldn’t capture the spirit of her that had so captivated him. She was demure on the surface, probably lived her life barely causing a ripple, but underneath there was a wildness, and a deep intelligence. It was there in those whisky-coloured eyes if you looked closely enough, a spark, a wit. She looked at him as though she could see right through him, and her wry smile said challenge me if you dare. No woman had ever looked at Kane like that. They were either scared of him, whether it was warranted or not, or they wanted the Grey Wolf to bed them, and give them something to gossip about with the other Ladies. Kane had cuckolded many a Lord of the Realm while they were blissfully unaware of what their wives were doing. Abby was different, though. She wasn’t a conquest, at least not in that way. He hadn’t been feeding her a line when he said he wanted to get to know her mind better. He did. If he got to know the rest of her as well, then he suspected that would be a definite bonus.

There was a creak as the door to his house swung open. Kane turned to find the Heid of The Hundred clan, a man known only as Jaha, standing in the doorway. Jaha was as much a mystery to the border people as Kane the Grey Wolf was a legend. Kane knew little about him, except that his ancestors had come to England from north Africa after the Crusades and somehow had ended up in Scotland. Mistrusted because of the colour of their skin, they were a family of thieves, living on the edge of society. Jaha had a strong intelligence, and a strategic mind. He had prospered as a lone reiver because he was ruthless and was known to leave no man standing. He had seen the advantage the clans and surnames of the Borders had in working together, and had put together his own clan, The Hundred, five years previously. There were always a hundred men in the clan, no more, no less. Kane didn’t know why that was and he had decided not to question it. Jaha and The Hundred came along at the right time, when Kane was on his knees after being thrown out of his ancestral home and stripped of his title and everything he had ever known. Kane had not prospered on his own as Jaha had; good looks and wit didn’t get you far when you were an outcast, and he was penniless, starving, and in poor health, about to give up, when Jaha offered him a place in the clan. A company of other outcasts had seemed like the perfect solution at the time, and Kane had felt lucky that a position became available just when he needed it most.

“Sir. Good evening. Come in.” Kane gestured for Jaha to take the chair opposite him and the man sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him, making himself at home. “Would ye like a wee dram, Sir?”

“I would, Kane. Thank you.”

Kane poured the rough poteen into two small flagons and handed one to Jaha, taking the other for himself. He held the flagon aloft. “Slàinte mhath.”

“Slàinte.”

Both men took a sip of the whisky to seal the greeting and then Jaha spoke.

“I need you to lead a party of men to Newcastle. You leave tonight.”

Kane was surprised. A raid so far across the border into England was a rare activity for The Hundred. Newcastle was at the eastern end of the old Roman Emperor Hadrian’s wall and was firmly in the hands of the English. It was also over a hundred miles there and back, and a further twenty miles from their camp to the loch where he was planning to meet Abby four days hence. He would never make the journey in time.

“Sir, are ye sure? What is there for us in Newcastle?”

“I have heard there is a company of the King’s men encamped outside the town attending a conclave. They have six English Lords with them. They will fetch a good ransom. I want you to capture the men and bring them back to camp.”

“A company of the King’s men? They will likely number thousands. We are so few. It is not possible, Sir.”

“I have faith in you, Kane. You are known for shedding little blood on your raids and in this case, that is exactly what I want. I’m sure you will find a way to extract the men without causing another war.”

Kane knew he could argue no more. Jaha’s decisions were always final, and Kane was fortunate that the older man indulged his occasional questioning. No other clansman was afforded that right.

“I will organise the men.”

“Good man. Safe return.” Jaha drained his whisky and left. Kane stood for a moment, hands on hips, trying to come up with a way to rob the King’s company without thousands of his men realising it had happened. There had to be a way, and he knew just the person who could help. He called his boy in.

“Go and find The Raven. Bring him to me, then tell Murphy to prepare the usual crew and six extra horses.”

A couple of minutes later and the boy returned with a small, slim young man with long dark hair tied in a ponytail. He gave Kane a cocky smile.

“I am at yer service, Kane. What can these magic hands do for ye tonight?”

“Get in here, Raven.” Kane looked around to see if anyone was listening, then pulled the man into the room and shut the door. “One day ye’re going to go too far with this joke and someone will guess the truth.”

Raven shrugged. “They’re too stupid to realise.”

“No, they’re not. Not all of them. Murphy, for example.” He shook his head. “Never mind that now. It’s yer brain I need tonight.”

“Primed and ready. Feed me.”

“We’re headed to Newcastle for a raid. We must steal six English Lords from under the nose of thousands of the King’s men without shedding any blood and without anyone noticing. Thoughts?”

“Woah, Kane. That’s big.”

“It is. We can’t go in fighting. There are twenty of us and thousands of them.”

“Ye’d be dead within seconds.”

“Aye, thanks, Raven.”

“Well, it’s the truth. We need to be like shadows in the dark, unseen.”

“But how? It would be best if we could take them while they were asleep, but their guards will be awake. We’d never get them out.”

“Where are the Lords housed?”

“We don’t have that information yet. I’m sending scouts ahead to find out, but if they follow tradition the Lords will be in two pavilions together with their attendants and guards. There may be forty or more men in the pavilions and ten times that surrounding them.”

Raven was quiet. Kane knew better than to disturb him when he got like this. Something was brewing in his brilliant mind.

“We dinnae need to take out all the men, just the ones guarding the Lords.”

“I suppose, if we can get to the pavilions without the other guards noticing.”

“Hmm. I’ve been experimenting with something that might work.”

Kane felt hope rising. “What is it?”

“There’s nae guarantee it will work. If it goes wrong, we’ll be defenceless. They’ll kill us.”

“Just another day in the Borders, then. Tell me.”

An hour later and the raiding party were mounted and ready to go. Kane had sent his scouts Jordan and Green ahead to find out the exact layout of the encampment. He was filled with anticipation for the task ahead. Raven’s scheme was so audacious, Kane suspected ballads would be written about it, and sung long after the sun had set on all their sorry lives. If it was successful, that was. He spurred his pony forward with a kick of his heels. They had to do this, and quickly. He had four and a half days to get to Newcastle, pull off the raid of the century, return victorious, and get to the loch to meet Abby. What could possibly go wrong? He laughed into the black night as he galloped south to Newcastle, and whatever his fate was going to be.

 Arkholm Tower

Darkness fell early in Scotland at the end of September and as the feast commenced, the banqueting room was bathed in the warm glow of the candles. Alasdair was seated at one end of the table, Abigail at the opposite end. The Lords were next to Alasdair, their wives next to Abigail. Alasdair had not mentioned her dress, had barely looked at her when he entered the room with his guests. Lady Margaret Elliot had given her a disapproving stare but Abigail didn’t care. Margaret was old, at least sixty, and she disapproved of most things, according to her sources. Lady Eleanor Douglas was younger, thirty-something, and extremely pretty, with long brown hair that was thick and curled, and blue eyes that rivalled Abigail’s dress for depth of colour. She had given Abigail a smile and the vaguest raise of an eyebrow which Abigail took as a positive comment on her appearance. She shouldn’t care so much, really, what other people thought, but someone who is starving will take even the smallest crumb. Abigail hated that she felt this way. She made small talk with the Ladies and was glad when the servants brought the food in; she was running out of things to say quickly and there were still hours of eating and drinking to go. The first course was a potage with the meat of pheasants and woodcocks caught in the wood down in the valley, flavoured with sage and thyme. Social etiquette was very important to Alasdair and the guests helped themselves to the food in a strict order, with the Heid of the household first, followed by the male guests, their wives and finally Abigail. She spooned the thick soup into her trencher and waited for Alasdair to start eating before taking a sip of the piping hot liquid. It was delicious, nicer than the venison stew they had been treated to a few days previously, rich and gamey, the sauce heady with red wine and herbs.

Lady Eleanor was seated to Abigail’s left and she placed a hand on Abigail’s. “I had heard your cook had a good reputation, Abigail, but none of the compliments touch the reality. This is delicious.”

“Thank you, Eleanor. Hannah has been with the household many years. Since before me, in fact.”

“You are lucky. My cook could burn water, I swear.” She laughed, and Abigail smiled.

“Yes, I am lucky.” She looked across the table to where Alasdair was holding forth with the men. They were all laughing as he told an amusing story. He was at his best when he was home in his kingdom, surrounded by a world that was ordered to his liking, ready to attend his every need. She supposed she was lucky; there were worse lives to be leading, much worse.

“I believe you recently had a son, Eleanor. My congratulations.” Harper had given Abigail all the information she had on the guests, whom Abigail had never met before tonight. Servants were the best source of information in the land, she had found.

“Oh, yes. Thank you. We have named him William. Henry was delighted. Finally, a son after two daughters.”

“A son is always a blessing,” said Margaret. “I have three. All married of course, with children of their own. You have only a daughter, I hear.”

A shiver ran through Abigail. She always hated this subject arising.

“I do, yes, Clarke. She’s eighteen now.”

“And not yet married?”

“Not yet.”

“Hmm. And she is from your first marriage?” Margaret looked at Alasdair and Abigail knew what she was thinking, what they all thought. She repeated the words she had said so many times over the years.

“Yes. Unfortunately, I was not able to have more children. After Clarke.” There, Alasdair dissolved of blame. It was Abigail’s responsibility, her fault, her shame.

“You were fortunate then, that a man like Alasdair married you. A man needs sons.”

Abigail nodded but did not speak. She was trying not to think about what she had lost, what she could never have again.

“To know the joy of any child is a blessing, I believe,” said Eleanor and Abigail gave her a grateful look.

“I would not be without Clarke for anything.” She stared at Margaret, willing her to respond, but the older woman harrumphed and took another sip of her soup.

The second course passed by in similar fashion, with Abigail mostly ignoring Margaret and swapping details of life in the Borders with Eleanor. It wasn’t until the custards, tarts and fruit came along that the conversation around the rest of the table became interesting. Wine had liberated the tongues of all the guests, and conversation was flowing freely, particularly among the men. Abigail was getting tired; too much meat and wine always made her sleepy, and she was staring at the flickering candle, drifting away a little when the conversation turned to the raid on the road from Edinburgh.

“I believe you were accosted by reivers, Alasdair,” said Lord Elliot. “Did they take much of value?”

Alasdair grimaced. “Everything I had bought in Edinburgh. A bullock and heifers I was planning to breed. Damned nuisance that Hundred Clan.”

Don’t forget your wife, thought Abigail. They took her too, and her necklace. Of course, she knew Alasdair would not mention that, but he didn’t even look at her, or share a glance to recognise that she was there, to mark a common experience.

“I heard it was The Hundred, led by that man Kane,” continued Lord Elliot.

“They call him the Grey Wolf,” said Lord Douglas.

“The Grey Wolf!” Alasdair spat some dregs of his wine back into his cup. The servant brought him a new cup, filled it to the brim. “He’s nothing but a common thief and a murderer.”

Lord Douglas nodded. “I have heard the ballads the people sing about him. What does it go like? ‘The Grey Wolf prowls the purple moor, and robs the rich to pay the poor’.”

“I’m sure he writes those ballads himself, to perpetuate the legend. The only poor he gives to are his own sorry clan of outlaws.” Alasdair took a long draught of his wine.

Abigail had woken up fully by now. Her heart was beating faster and there was a quivering in her stomach. She tried not to look too interested, though, using the candle flame to focus her mind, so her thoughts wouldn’t wander and be betrayed in her face.

“Why do they call him the Grey Wolf?” asked Margaret.

“Because he is a beast,” replied Alasdair, “a low, creeping scourge on this region.”

“He brutalised his brother’s wife, my dear. That is the rumour. That is why his father cast him out of the house. He lost everything.” Lord Elliot patted his wife’s arm, to soothe the shock that was clear in her face.

“His brother’s wife? Oh, my!”

Abigail’s whole body became cold, as though an ice wind had blown through her and frozen her solid. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Sinclair had hinted at this, but she had suspected it had perhaps been an affair, not something so terrible as this. The thought of him doing that to his brother’s wife, his sister almost. It didn’t reconcile with the man who had refused to touch her when he could so easily have had her, who had saved her, and searched her out to return her necklace. Perhaps he had changed, or perhaps it was a ruse all along, a game. He meant to woo her, and then ruin her reputation.

“The whole clan are known for that kind of thing during their raids,” said Lord Elliot.

A heavy silence descended. Everyone turned to look at Abigail and she went from cold to hot in an instant. Alasdair cleared his throat.

“They tried, but I saw them off. They were no match for the old Griffin claymore,” he said, indicating the great two-handed broad sword that hung on the wall.

“It is all conjecture,” said Lord Douglas. “No one knows the true reason for his disgrace. His family refuse to speak of it.”

“Whatever the truth, he does have a reputation as a Lady’s man. He’s well practised, from what I hear.” Eleanor giggled and winked at Abigail. She was clearly under the influence of too much wine. Abigail did not wink back, didn’t dare to even move a muscle of her face. Alasdair was watching her intently.

“That’s enough, Eleanor.” Lord Douglas gave his wife a stern look of admonishment.

“He won’t be bedding women for much longer, with or without their consent,” said Alasdair. “I have plans for Marcus Kane. He’ll be swinging from the gallows before this year is out. You have my word.”

Abigail kept her face as still as she could but inside she was in turmoil. If he was truly such a beast, a man who would defile his own brother’s wife, then he deserved the gallows. And yet, she had seen with her own eyes his kindness, his warmth and humour.

“It’s time we brought the reivers to account, I agree,” said Lord Douglas. He turned to his wife. “Perhaps it is time you retired, my dear.”

Abigail saw an opportunity to escape the room which had now become suffocating. “I will escort My Lady to her chamber.”

“Thank you.”

“You may retire as well, if you wish.” Alasdair and the men stood.

“Thank you. I will. Good night.”

As she helped Eleanor up the narrow stairs to her bedchamber, she decided to risk asking her a question in the hope that she would not remember the conversation the next day.

“The Grey Wolf’s reputation. With women. How do you know of it?”

Eleanor leaned forward, swaying a little and Abigail gripped her more tightly. She didn’t want her falling down the stairs.

“You must keep this to yourself. A friend of mine, a Lady, had cause to meet him. There was a gathering. No one knew he was an outlaw. She took a liking to him. She has the most boring husband, bless her.” Eleanor swayed again. “Oops.”

Abigail steered them to a wider step. “Please continue.”

“She arranged a rendezvous, while her husband was away.” Eleanor bent her head, so her mouth was close to Abigail’s ear. “She said he was a wolf in every way.” She giggled, her warm boozy breath tickling Abigail’s face.

“But his brother’s wife. If the rumours are true. How could your friend lay with him?”

“Who says the rumours are true? My dear Abigail. Nobody knows, and that’s the thrill.”

Abigail helped Eleanor into bed and retired to her own chamber. She had decided before tonight that she was not going to meet Kane at the loch. After everything she had heard, the last thing on her mind should be the thought of seeing him again, and yet he was all she could think of. She had to see him, had to know the truth, to ask him herself. What had happened with his brother’s wife? Why was he called the Grey Wolf? Would he tell her the truth? How would she know? There was only one way to find out.

 Newcastle, 70 miles south of Arkholm

It had taken Kane’s party two nights to reach Newcastle. They had started out in the early hours and rode twenty miles through the dark until the dawn’s early light had made them too visible to continue. They had holed up in a makeshift camp near Otterburn, scene of the famous battle and the defeat of the English by the Scots nearly a hundred years before. A glorious victory it may have been, but Kane had heard the Ballad of Otterburn sung many times, and he knew it had not ended well for the Scots’ leader, Earl Douglas, who had foreshadowed his own death in a dream.

But I have dream'd a dreary dream, Beyond the Isle of Skye; I saw a dead man win a fight, And I think that man was I.

Kane hoped he would not suffer the same fate as the Earl and had been thankful for a dreamless sleep.

Thirty more miles of riding through the night and they were now camped next to the ancient Roman wall at Walbottle, just four miles from the King’s conclave on the north bank of the River Tyne, beneath Arthur’s Hill. Kane was desperate to get the mission underway; it had taken them longer to reach this point than he had anticipated. Their small Galloway nags were used to difficult terrain but long distance riding took its toll and they had to make their way slowly, and let the ponies take plenty of rest. It was frustrating but they couldn’t launch the raid during the day anyway, and Raven needed time to gather the rest of what was needed for the task. Kane settled back against the crumbling stone wall, closed his eyes and let himself drift away with thoughts of Abby. If they were quick tonight, he might just make it back in time to see her.

As the sun was setting on the second day, Kane led his men along the line of the wall towards Newcastle. Jordan and Green, the scouts he had sent ahead, had reported that the King’s men were encamped at the eastern edge of Arthur’s Hill, the Lords being in two separate pavilions as Kane had predicted. The six extra horses they needed to transport the captives away were laden down with the equipment Raven had made and collected. Raven rode up to Kane and trotted alongside him, a look of nervous excitement on his face.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” asked Kane.

“Not at all. I would be more surprised if we succeeded.” Raven laughed. “Having to mix the gas at the last minute is very risky. So much could go wrong.”

“Like what?” Kane wanted to be prepared for every eventuality.

“It could explode, and wipe us off the face of the earth.”

“Oh.” Not much he could do about that, thought Kane. The more dangerous the task seemed, the less he thought they had to lose. They might as well give it everything they had or die trying.

When they reached the outskirts of the camp the men unloaded the ponies and left them loosely tethered to tree stumps. They moved the equipment as close as they dared to the pavilions. The camp was quiet, with only a couple of guards patrolling this section of the perimeter. Kane knew there were more guards inside the pavilions, though, and some of them would still be awake, taking shifts to protect the Lords. He had deliberately chosen this time of night, long past the witching hour and a couple of hours before dawn. He knew from experience that this was the time people were at their least alert. Those who were asleep would be so deep into their slumber they would likely not even be dreaming, and would be slow to wake. The guards would think themselves alert, but they were only halfway so, their reactions would be slow. He had seen it time and time again.

The perimeter guards met up with their counterparts on the adjacent section of the camp at regular intervals. Kane had watched it happen twice now and knew exactly how long they had before the guards would be missed and the alarm raised all over camp. It wasn’t very much time at all. His men were in place, waiting for his signal. He took a deep breath. It was all or nothing. He raised his sword and at this sign Murphy and Armstrong crept up on the guards and struck each of them on the head, knocking them down. The bodies were dragged towards the reivers where they were tied together, cloths put into their mouths to prevent them shouting if they awakened before the task was completed. Jaha had wanted little bloodshed, and Kane was determined to give it to him. As soon as the guards were down, Raven began unrolling a length of pipe he had made. It was round like the clay pipes that ran beneath some of the old Roman cities, only it was made of seal skin and was narrow, no more than a flagon’s width across, and flexible. When he had shown it to Kane earlier, he had been amazed by it. It was cold and smooth to the touch. Raven had said it would keep the gas inside so it wouldn’t disappear into the night air. Kane wasn’t sure how they would know the gas was inside the pipe because Raven said it couldn’t be seen. He had to trust him, as he had many times before.

Raven placed the pipe at the edge of the closest pavilion, coiled at the end as it would need to be extended under the cloth when they were ready. At the other end of the pipe was a large bag made of the same material and into this was fed a bellows of the type used to make a fire burn hotter. The bag had a hole in it with a wooden stopper. Kane marvelled at what Raven had created. If this worked, he could envisage it making their lives a lot easier on future raids. IF it worked. He had been counting down the time since they had captured the guards in his head, and realised they were running behind. They needed to put the next part of the plan into action. This was the crucial stage. This was where it could all go wrong in an instant.

Raven looked at him. Kane nodded, and the young man removed the stopper and poured some of their precious poteen into the bag. At the same time the other end of the pipe was pushed under the pavilion. Raven plugged the stopper back in and set to work on the bellows. In the bag, Raven had already placed lime and salt and this was now mixing with the alcohol and creating a gas that Raven said would render the people in the pavilion unconscious long enough for Kane’s men to extract the Lords without notice. Kane watched, his heart pounding, hands sweaty. All he could see was the seal skin pipe expanding and contracting as the air was pushed through it. At least that part was working, and there had been no explosion. Yet.

After what felt like an eternity, the apparatus was removed and taken to the other pavilion where the process was repeated. Kane led his men to the pavilion’s entrance. He slowly pushed the heavy cloth aside, not knowing whether he would be faced with slumbering men or the point of a shiny sword. The pavilion was warm, a low fire burning in the centre, and all around it lay sleeping men. The Lords on their beds of furs, the guards slumped where they had fallen. Raven’s plan had worked. Kane pointed the Lords out to his men and they worked quickly to bring them outside. Raven had warned him not to stay in the pavilion too long or he could be overcome by the gas as well.

Green and two other men carried the Lords directly to the waiting ponies and strapped them on top. Kane went over to the other pavilion where Murphy’s group were dragging their captives outside. Raven was rolling up the pipes and the rest of the men were hauling the equipment back to the ponies. No one had made a sound during the entire operation. Kane clapped Raven on the back as they followed the gang. He couldn’t believe that the plan had worked, and so well. He smiled as he pictured the guards waking up and looking around to find their charges gone, and no sign of how it had happened.

Kane was so caught up in congratulating himself on a job well done that he had forgotten to keep up the count in his head. The meeting time of the perimeter guards was well past, and down at the camp, this had just been noticed. One of the remaining guards came around the hill, looking for his comrades. He found them, tied to a tree, and when he looked up he saw Kane looking back at him.

“Hey!” the man cried.

“Go, Raven,” said Kane. “Tell the others to hurry.”

“I’m not leaving ye, Kane.”

“Ye must. I’ll be fine. Go.”

All this was said in the space of a heartbeat and then Kane turned to run back towards the guard, anxious to get to him before he could raise the alarm. They met with a clash of swords, blows parried, thrusts blocked. Every move Kane made the guard countered. He pulled back and kicked Kane in the leg. Kane stumbled, fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. The guard brought his sword down towards Kane and he managed to roll out of the way, getting to his feet and hitting the guard on the back with the flat of his sword. He stumbled but remained upright, turning and slashing at Kane.  Kane heard the rip of cloth and felt the sting of the blade as it tore through his clothes and into his arm and down across his chest. He didn’t feel any pain. He was too focussed on the guard. The blow he had landed on Kane had taken some of the strength out of him. He was breathing heavily and staggering backwards. Kane took advantage of this and pursued him, striking his sword once across the man’s arm and then putting a decisive blow into his chest. The guard fell to the ground. He was dead. Kane staggered up the path to where his pony was waiting patiently for him. He pulled himself astride and turned the pony in the direction of the north, and home. Kane leant forward as they trotted, his head resting on the pony’s neck. His arm was throbbing now, his chest aching. His shirt was wet with blood; he could feel it sticking to him. Every move of the pony, every twist and turn, pulled on his wounds and he felt faint.

He must have drifted off for a short time because he became aware that he was no longer moving. He looked up to see Raven sitting astride his pony, watching him.

“Ye’re alive, then,” he said.

Kane grimaced as a wave of pain flowed through him. “Aye, just about.”

“Do you think ye can get down. I need to take a look at yer wounds.”

Kane nodded and Raven helped him off the horse. He took Kane’s jacket and shirt off and examined the wounds. “I think these will need to be stitched up but I don’t have any thread. I’ll make a strapping to hold them until ye see the medic at camp.”

“I’m not going back to camp.”

Raven stared at Kane. “What do ye mean? Where are ye going?”

“I have to be somewhere else. I don’t have time to waste going back to camp.”

“Kane. These wounds could become infected. Ye need to see the medic.”

“Aye, and I will. I just have to do something else first. I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”

Raven bound Kane’s wounds, muttering to himself as he did so. Kane ignored the admonishments and occasional expletives. His mind was made up. He was going to meet Abby, and nothing was going to stand in his way. The thought of her waiting by the loch, risking everything to be there, and he not turning up. He couldn’t countenance it. He wasn’t going to be another source of disappointment in her life. When Raven had finished, Kane eased his shirt and jacket back on. He turned to mount his pony when Raven spoke.

“Kane.”

“What?”

“Be safe.” The young man reached up and placed a gentle kiss on Kane’s cheek. Kane took hold of Raven’s hand, brushed his lips against the delicate fingers.

“Aye, thee as well. Don’t do anything daft while I’m gone.”

He could feel Raven’s eyes on him as he rode away.