Prompt: You seem so invincible. But just touch you and you’ll wince. You have secrets and trust no one. You’re the perfect example of betrayal. Because anyone you’ve ever trusted broke you. Thrust into a new world, will you be able to stay alone, or will Bellamy work his way in.
A/N: Thank you all AGAIN for the lovely response on my last part, it honestly is so sweet and i’ve run out of words to describe how thankful I am on your guys support and reassurance of this series. I do truly love writing this series and being able to put my own character into the 100 series. So thank you all for allowing me to continue it! This episode (episode 8) is honestly (again) one of my favourite episodes. I feel like we finally get to see Bellamy for who he is, and that honestly makes me so happy.
Y/N or the reader will be taking place of Clarke to further her relationship with Bellamy in this episode.
Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!
AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOTcontinue the series if no one wants me to.
Based off of: The 100 01x08
Warnings: hallucination nuts, getting “high”.
You blinked, your body weak and swaying as you tried to regain yourself. It felt as if you’d tip over any second but you held fast on staying steady and not making a complete fool of yourself. Had you just heard Clarke’s words right? You prayed you didn’t, but the feeling in your stomach told you otherwise and you feared…
You feared you’d have to talk to him… the him who threw you in solitary and the him who also happened to be your father. “Y/N!” Shaking your head, the world became clear again and you found Clarke, standing before you waving her hand in front of you. You cleared your throat, unsure of your own next words. “Kane? Kane would like to speak to me?”
She nodded, seemingly just as confused as you. “Yes, Y/N.” She concluded. You felt your breath leave you and your heart rate pick up, taking cautious steps back you shook your head with denial. “I can’t.” You shook your head, breath frantically picking up; “please, Clarke. I can’t.”
“I-I’m sorry Y/N. But Kane specifically requested you.” Clarke explained, wiping her hand against her forehead in frustration. Sudden guilt filled within you, despite the unredeemable acts she’d just committed, she also had a lot on her plate and she didn’t need your pathetic panic attacks. “We just got in contact with them, I don’t want to upset them just yet.”
“Uh- okay. Sorry.” You replied quickly, ignoring the look she gave you as you snuck past her into the room. You stared at the screen that displayed someone you thought you’d never see again. He was almost your worst fear, and seeing him head on made your heart beat rapidly against your chest. You tried to ignore the spike of fear that stabbed through you as you stood just out of view to Kane.
You needed to do this. You knew. Even if you did some how manage to avoid this (which you wouldn’t be able to) the Ark was coming down, you’d have to confront your father eventually. It was best just to get it over with.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to ignore the way your hand shook and took a step towards the screen. Taking a seat, you let your eyes wander over Kane. He looked the same. Though it’s been four years since you’ve even seen him, your father did not change much. He still held that air of arrogance along with him.
He seemed monotone on your return but you felt your stomach bubble with anticipation. “Hello… sir.” You replied, using the name he liked you to call him by.
“Hello, Y/N.” He replied shortly, and despite the way things had left off you couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt that he still couldn’t seem to give you the time of the day. “Clarke tells me she is busy today, so she sent you.” Blinked, you shook your head confused, Clarke had said he’d requested you specifically..? So why? “All of you will freeze to death by winter, so we have found an emergency aid depot. It’s not far from the landing site. Here are the coordinates.” You were quick to begin writing down the coordinates.
Jaha came to view and he was very quick to begin explaining; “along with supplies, the bunker made provide shelter for the hundred and for the citizens of the Ark.”
Despite how quickly everything had been thrown at you, you turned to Jaha and asked; “and what makes you think it’s intact?” You chose to ignore the fact that your father was in clear sight of you and the absolute chills and obedience that you felt around him.
“It was designed to withstand nuclear warfare.” Kane explained, the screen flickering back to him. Nodding your head, you opened your mouth to speak, though you were interrupted quickly by Jaha. “Send in Clarke please, Y/N. Find someone to check the bunker out and report back to us.” You were sent off but in panic you tried; “wait. Can I please speak to Kane please?” Though the fear you felt about seeing your father again, you still wanted to speak to him. He was your father… you missed him.
“Not the time Y/N. Go now.” Kane spoke for Jaha, waving you off. With hurt eyes you turned to your father but he only shook your head. Despite the four years, you’d grown up with those eyes and you knew when to stop. With a sigh, you stood up and tried to suck in your tears. Four years. Four years it’s been since you’ve spoke to your father and he couldn’t even bother to say one word to you. Actually to you. It stung. More than anything.
You stormed out of the room only to be stopped by Clarke herself. Her hand fell on your shoulder and you hid your clearly distressed state by your hand. “Hey, Y/N. Are you okay?” She asked, clearly concerned.
Sniffling, you shook your head and sent a smile her way. “Yeah fine.” You convinced her, and with a sudden furrow of your brow, you turned to her suspicious; “hey you said that Kane requested me specifically, but they said you requested me? Why would you need me to go to the depot instead of going yourself?”
Clarke’s eyes fell and her hand slipped off your shoulder, with honest but hidden eyes she turned on you; “Y/N I know Kane’s your father.” You opened your mouth in shock, taking a step back. “How di-”
“Doesn’t matter,” she interrupted, “I just thought you’d like to speak to him and I need to figure somethings out of my own. I knew I could trust you.” Sudden anger filled you, and though you weren’t sure why, you narrowed your eyes at her. “What right do you have? When you won’t even speak to your own mother?” You suddenly spat at her, you watched her face twist into concern but you only shook your head and stormed past her before she could say anything.
She had no right. And the only she’d been doing for the past day had been aggravating you. So quick to torture another when all he was trying to do was protect himself. So quick to put all the pressure on another when one thing became too much. Your anger was unjust in some ways, but a fire burned within you and you just felt so angry.
Your body led you, and soon your found yourself climbing up the ladder that led to where the grounder was. You found Octavia on your way and sent a small sympathetic smile her way. Climbing up the ladder, you found just who were looking for. And surprised to see you there, Bellamy turned towards you, quick to head towards you. “Y/N-” You held up your hand interrupting him.
“The Ark found some old records that show a supply depot not too far from here.” You explained.
“What kind of supplies?”
“The kind of supplies that might give us a chance to live through winter.” You explained, shaking your head. Drawling, you looked up at him; “I’m gonna go check it out.” You sent him a look, already knowing he’d want to join you, as that was part of the reason why you’d come to him, even if your feet led you here. Though you weren’t sure why. You two had been getting the least bit along lately, but it didn’t matter. No matter how much you hated his ways, you needed someone that wouldn’t be afraid to defend themselves and you, if you went on your own, you hated to say it but you were in danger.
“Yes, you can come.” You interrupted, waving your hand. “I’ll get my stuff, meet you in ten by the gates.”
Ten minutes later, both you and Bellamy were out of the gates and already in the landing site that this pod was suppose to be in. Popping another nut in your mouth, you turned to Bellamy who was only a few steps behind you. “So…how long you gonna avoid Jaha for?” You asked, seemingly breaking the silence between the two of you. “The drop-ships are gonna be arriving soon, pretty sure it’s gonna be a bit difficult to avoid Jaha then.”
“I can try.” Bellamy replied. You looked back at him, a hidden tenseness between the two of you and you shook your head. Figures he’d still try even when the odds were clearly going to be against him.
Stepping up the hill, you both looked around at the barren looking area. Holding the map, you let your eyes wander around; “the depot suppose to be around here… somewhere.” You mumbled, holding the map. It definitely did not look like there was anything here. With the dead trees, destroyed half of a building and the abandoned look of it.
“There’s got to be a door somewhere here.” Bellamy uttered.
“Maybe he’ll be lenient.” You mentioned, breaking the conversation and going back to Jaha. He shook his head, turning to you and you had to strain your head up to look him in the eye. “Look, I shot the man Y/N. He’s just not gonna forgive and forget.”
Sighing you looked away, at the ground and played with your thumbs. “Yeah I know. Maybe I just hoped you would be willing to compensate for your crimes.” You mumbled, you decided not to look back at Bellamy knowing already what his expression would be. You shook your head.
“Look let’s just split up, cover more ground.” Bellamy was quick to walk away, you only shook your head, disappointed in him. Heading down the hill, you headed left while he headed right and you began digging around. Moving stuff you tried to search for the door and let out a small smile when you saw the door. Straightening out, you looked over at Bellamy and frowned. Just a day ago you’d trusted him completely, he was a prick and cocky but you’d trusted him.
You’d let someone in even after everything that had happened to you. You’d trusted him. And now… now you only saw betrayal when you looked at him. Shaking your head, you cleared your mind of those thoughts. This wasn’t the time, you needed to find out if that depot would help your people or not and debating whether Bellamy was trust worthy or not wasn’t the way.
“Bellamy!” You called, catching the attention of him. You squinted to see what he was doing but couldn’t tell and soon enough he stopped, turning to you. “Over here. I found a door.” He was quick to gather his stuff, jogging over to you.
Pulling on the handles, you grunted when it didn’t budge and sighed. “I think it’s rusted shut.” You sighed.
“Here.” Bellamy commented, raising his axe to the side of the door; “watch your foot.” He warned, and you quickly tucked your foot underneath you. You watched as he raised his hand and smacked the axe down against the door. Soon enough the handle broke and jumping into action you moved over to help him pull the door open. The door creaked open and sharing a look with Bellamy, you both stood up and began heading down the steps.
You switched on a flash light, handing it to him before grabbing yourself one. Looking around, you felt hope within you as you prayed that this place would be suitable enough to live in. You and Bellamy remained silent, searching through the depot yourself.
You followed through the depot, walking down more steps. You felt yourself freeze and your breath get caught in your throat when an old decayed body came into view. Pausing, you closed your eyes to remain calm and continued walking further. You barely paid attention to the fact that Bellamy witnessed it all and still walking, he asked; “you really don’t like death, do you?”
Not looking back at him, you spat; “nope.”
Walking further, there was another body and you had to focus on your breathing as Bellamy commented; “hell of a place to die.”
Your hope withered as you made it to the bottom of the steps and viewed the shape the depot was in. It was decaying and old, everything was rotted and wasted. And reluctantly you had to admit that this was no place to live. Closing your eyes in frustration you mumbled, “so much for living here. This place is disgusting. Damnit!” You raised your voice, frustrated.
“Anything left down here is ruined.”
“They must have distributed most of the supplies before the last bombs went off.” You analyzed. Turning to Bellamy when he opened a compartment, you walked over to him watching as he twisted a glow stick on. You set down your bag next to Bellamy’s and walked over to another container. Opening it, you felt a slimmer of hope fill within you when you saw blankets. Clearly excited, you called over to Bellamy; “hey. I found blankets.”
“Excited about a couple of blankets.” Bellamy drawled.
Turning to him, you glared; “well it’s something.”
“How about a canteen or a med kit… or-or a decent fricken tent?” He yelled, frustrated. You kept calm, shaking your head. You were just as frustrated as him, knowing that you all could die if you didn’t find a reliable solution soon made everything seem more tedious and annoying.
You turned shocked when you heard Bellamy grunt and a loud thunk of a sound when the barrel he’d kicked hit the ground. You furrowed your brows, confused as you made your way over to him. He suddenly seemed intrigued by something that came out of the barrel, and following slightly behind him you squinted to see what had made him so excited.
“Oh, my god.” He whispered. Baffled, you leaned closer to him to see what he was so excited about. He picked up an object which you quickly deciphered as a gun. Sudden panicked filled you and straightening up, you shook your head slowly. No. No, you were not bringing guns back to camp. You almost wanted to yell at him with that bright smile he held on his face.
You backed up from him; “no.” You shook your head repeatedly. “No we are not bringing guns back camp.”
Bellamy’s smile disappeared and he stood up himself; “Y/N- we need them.”
“No,” was all you said. Bellamy began walking over to you and grabbed you by the shoulders, this seemed to be a popular move to him. Shaking your head, you tried to shove him off but you were only backed against the wall with no real place to escape to you. You stared fearful up at him, but not of him rather at the fact that you’d found guns. You couldn’t-
“This changes everything,” Bellamy exclaimed. “No more running from spears. You ready to be a badass, Y/N?” He seemed to have missed the part of your clear discomfort. Shaking your head, you tried to shove off his arms but he didn’t budge.
“No!” You suddenly yelled; “I don’t want to be a badass. Guns are dangerous Bellamy. They can hurt somebody.”
“Hell yeah they’re dangerous. That’s the point. We don’t need to be afraid of the grounders anymore.” He tried to explained to you. You fumbled for words, eyes wide as you tried to get him to understand. “No, Bellamy. Please. You don’t understand. That can kill somebody!” You yelled, pointing at the pile of guns.
Bellamy let go, moving from you and grabbing a gun. Quickly setting up a clothe of red with an ‘x’ on it, he gestured the gun over to you. You stared warily at it and made no move to grab it or anything. He shoved it more forward. “Y/N let me show you that if you handle a gun right, it can’t hurt anybody.”
“Yes it will! It kills people, Bellamy.”
“Not if you don’t want it to. You just have to aim. Here.” He gestured the gun and despite yourself you grabbed it. You watched as the gun raddled from your shaky hands and you held it a good distance away form yourself. You stared in fear at the weapon and soon felt heat from a body behind you. You completely tensed when Bellamy’s arm came around you and grabbed the gun, placing it correctly in your hands. His face was so close to your neck and you still couldn’t get over the fact that you were holding a gun in your hands.
“Shh. I’ll show you, it’s not all that bad when in the right hands.” He moved your hand slowly to the trigger and moving the gun, he aimed it so it was directly in front of the clothe. His hand hovered over yours and slowly pressed down.
You killed me.
You blinked, your breath stopping as the loud shot of the bullet echoed. You closed your eyes in fear, images flashing rapidly through your mind. Your heart sped up and you felt yourself go clammy. Panic rose within you and you shoved Bellamy away from you, the gun fell to the ground with a clatter and suddenly you were on the other side of Bellamy, facing him.
Your hands at your side, you felt your whole body shaking. Bellamy looked at you, clearly concerned as he tried to take a step towards you but you flinched violently.
You killed me.
Silence fell over the both of you. You were at a lost on what to say. You were too scared to say anything. You were too scared to even be near him. As you looked around in panic, a sudden realization dawned on you. Your eyes fell on his bag and you distinctly remember him stuffing it with rations. The inability to speak to Jaha. His trust in Miller. And just the way he’s been acting the entire day.
Panting, you made direct eye contact with Bellamy. “You’re leaving.” You whispered, tears brimming. “You’re gonna leave.” Bellamy seemed genuinely baffled by your statement but you knew he knew what you were talking about. “That’s why you wanted to come.” Even so you’ve been angry at him for so long, something about the statement hurt.
“I don’t have a choice. The Ark will be down here soon.”
“Oh and you think we all don’t have that same fear? Or at least… i don’t? What are you going to do, leave Octavia?” You spat, confused.
“Octavia hates me, she’ll be fine.” Looking at you, he mumbled; “you hate me.”
“I shot the chancellor, Y/N.” He interrupted, voice leaving no room for argument. “They’re gonna kill me. Best case scenario they lock me up with the grounder for the rest of my life, and there’s no way in hell i’m giving Jaha the satisfaction. J-Just… i need some air.” Before you could say anything else, Bellamy stormed past you and up the stairs he went.
Sighing, you wiped your hand against your forehead, suddenly you felt very dizzy. Resting your hand against your forehead, you held the wall for support.
You killed me.
You closed your eyes for a second and when you walked open them suddenly a woman stood in front of you. “You’re the reason i’m dead.”
“Mom…” You whispered, holding your stomach. You shook your head in bewilderment confused as to why she was here. Her forehead was slick with sweat and her white shirt was covered in blood… it was just like that night…the image haunted you. “What are you… why?” Tears finally fell and terrified of that fact that your dead mother was standing before you, you tried to not collapse.
Your heart rate quickened and you felt it suddenly hard to breathe. “I’m here because you killed me.”
You shook your head, desperate for her to understand. “N-No… I shot the guard-”
“Then I died.” She interrupted, taking steps towards you. You flinched when she reached you and your hands shook against your side as you tried to get away. Your back hit the wall and you were frozen with fear, all you could do was listen to your mother spit cruel words at you. “You murdered the guard and then you murdered me. You deserve to die just like the rest of us.” She spat.
You opened your mouth to say something but fell silent… she was right. You were a murderer.
“And all this time you’ve been blaming him, putting everything on him when you helped him kill those three hundred innocent people.” You remembered the loving eyes your mother once gave you. Now all you saw were dark and cold and hurt eyes that blamed you. You let a sob break free and you tried to reach for her but she smacked your hand away, then you grunted when a sudden pain came about in your stomach.
Mouth open, you looked up at your mother who only glared at you. Suddenly her arm raised and she punched you across the head, you grunted, falling over. Sobbing as you fell, your head smacked against the ground but you barely felt the pain as you closed your eyes. When you opened them, your mother was gone and replaced by another. Squinting, you tried to stay awake; “Dax…?”
“Dax, put the gun down.” Your hand was clearly shaking but you didn’t hesitate to keep your hands up and the gun pointed at Dax. You were clearly in distress. Your hair disheveled and your eyes red from crying, your clothes covered in dirt and ripped. But still your head held high as you glared at Dax.
Dax turned towards you, his gun now pointed at you. “Should’ve stayed down there, Y/N. I tried not to kill you, but here you are, and Shumway said no witnesses.” Your eye’s narrowed in uncertainty at the mention of a guard.
“What is he talking about?” You asked, turning to Bellamy.
“Shumway set it up. He gave me the gun to shoot Chancellor Jaha.” Bellamy explained.
“Walk away now and I won’t kill you.” Dax offered. Shaking your head, you held the gun higher, aiming it at him. “Put it down.” You repeated, slowly enough for him to understand. He only shook his head, keeping the gun up and pointed directly at you. You ignored the spike of panic and the way the gun felt heavy against your hands. You ignored the way your mind raged at you to to shoot but you knew this was the only way.
“Your choice.” Dax mumbled. Holding your breath you pressed the trigger but nothing happened confused you pressed the trigger again, the sheer force of it shocking you so your aim went off slightly. It grazed his arm and he grunted in pain, staring shocked that you were actually able to hit him. Panicked, you moved to run away but Dax was too quick and you were knocked to the ground.
Turning from your stomach, Dax was quick as he straddled your waist. You panicked, grunting pain when he punched you. You heard a grunt and sudden cry of: “no!” You whimpered at the sheer force of the man on top of you but felt yourself relax slightly when you saw Bellamy heading your way. “Get off of her!” He shouted, moving to grab Dax by the shoulders. Dax raised his elbow, knocking Bellamy back by sheer force.
You tried to shove him off you but he grabbed your wrists, pinning them. You panicked, closing your eyes, afraid of what he’d do. Before his grip tightened and you felt his weight being shoved off you. Despite knowing he was off, you felt yourself shake violently and sudden sobs break through. You opened your eyes only to see Bellamy above you, panting. “Y/N. Y/N! Are you okay?” He said, kneeling next to you.
You shook your head no. “I killed her.”
His brows furrowed, “killed who?”
“I killed my mother. I’m nothing but a murderer” You sobbed. Holding your hands against your eyes you didn’t notice Bellamy manoeuvre around you until his hands fell on your waist and he pulled you up. You did nothing to stop him as he leaned you against the trunk of the tree. You only focused on him when he grabbed your wrists and pulled your hands from your face, “Y/N look at me.”
Defeated, you let your eyes fall on him, “I don’t know what happened between you and your mom, but one thing I know for sure is, you’re not a murderer.” You found solace in his gaze, that willed you strongly against him. Just his words helped relax you as the one thing you’ve wanted to hear, wanted to be told, he finally said to you. Something you’ve wanted to hear for years, you felt yourself able to breathe again. There was that certainty of safety again when you looked into his eyes. “I trust you, Y/N.”
Calming down, you straightened out your breathing. “I trust you.” You nodded, “and okay. We bring the guns.”
He smiled gratefully at that, “i’ll talk to Jaha.”
“Can we just sit here for a minute?” You asked, panting against the tree. He let go of your wrists, moving to sit next to you.
“As long as you need.”
“I’d like to say something.” You interrupted Jaha, “when you sent us down here, you sent us to die. But miraculously, most of us are still alive. And a huge part of that, is thanks to Bellamy.” You looked over at him, holding his gaze and sending a small smile his way. “He’s one of us, and he deserves to be pardoned of his crimes just like the rest of us.”
“Y/N I appreciate your point of view, but it’s not that simple.” Jaha explained.
“It is.” Bellamy was quick to defend himself, you smiled at him reassuringly. “If you want to know who in the Ark wants you dead.”
You watched with anticipation as Jaha leaned forward, you grabbed onto Bellamy’s hand, squeezing it. You missed the way his gaze held yours for a long time before turning back to the screen. Your stomach filled with butterflies as you waited for Jaha to say the words.
“When the Ark gives coordinates to an old emergency supply depot Clarke, *yn* and Bellamy set out to find it. None of them expect the events that unfold next which reveals a side of Bellamy that *yn* never expected to see. *yn* is also reunited with the one person on the Ark she cares about most.”
*yn* flickered her gaze up from the jobi nuts in front of her to look at Jasper, not missing the warning glare Monty shot Jasper at his words. Instead of snapping *yn* just smirked as she shook her head slightly.
“As good as I can be considering I was stabbed with a poisonous knife.” She quipped as she turned her attention back to sorting the nuts into smaller packets.
•the Alliance’s debate over how to react to Luke being Vader’s son went on for about six days
•Luke volunteers himself as a diversion when there’s a very important operation going down. Now that he knows he’s got the eyes of the galaxy on him, all Leia has to do is give him a direction not to be in, and he’ll take it from there. Most of the time he and some of his guys just do fly-bys, or raid small supply depots, but if it’s a particularly important mission the Alliance needs covered up, Luke will intentionally get into very bizarre situations and let the Executor come get him. (To be demonstrated in a later post)
•Vader is pretty sure he knows what Luke is doing here, but it serves his purposes well enough and it’s gotten rid of a few rivals of his so he doesn’t press the issue
•Luke and Vader have had some very unpleasant arguments over Luke’s refusal to learn anything about the dark side from his father. One fight was bad enough that Luke spent two days in the brig. He and Vader didn’t speak again until the next time he set foot on the Executor. It was a hairy couple of weeks for the crew of the star destroyer
•the emperor, frustrated at the apparent lack of progress in turning Luke to the dark side, “suggests” that Vader might have more luck if Luke doesn’t have friends to distract him. There follows an incredibly angsty moment on the ship once Luke finds out where he’s essentially begging for his squadron’s lives. Luke has to smuggle his friends off the ship and the next two days are very tense
•usually, the Executor and her crew don’t help Rebels. They shoot Rebels. They only help Rebels if Luke is physically present with them. Which is why everyone was surprised when Vader showed up out of nowhere, rescued Princess Leia from Ysanne Isard, and left as quickly as he’d come
A “Legacy of Mandalore” snippet on the usual themes...
It’s the same in every galaxy, once you’ve grown. Here is
what mothers say:
Your father loves you.
Go. Stop you? No. Here, I’ve made some fresh bread. I have a little money put
away, you take it. Yes, I’m terrified. I don’t know what will happen to you out
there. But I know for sure what will happen if you stay here: You’ll shrivel
up, caged, angry, pacing like a nexu. Your spirit is too big for this place, you
can fill the spaces between all those stars. Go quickly before your father gets
Hera’s mother died before she was
old enough for this ritual, so she left home with only curses to speed her
along. It made things harder.
She doesn’t have any babies, and
although that chance is still within the bare rim of possibility, she likely
never will. But she does have these brilliant kids to call her own, and every
day she tries to remember the lesson she never got:
Here’s the map. Don’t forget the
supply depot. You know all our contacts. I’ll teach you to fly so well you won’t
need me. I can’t keep you safe out there, but I can’t keep you safe here
either, so you go as far and as fast as you need. I trust you. Trust yourself.
Here is what mothers never do:
Lose their nerve in front of their kids. Cry, “Don’t leave me, please don’t
leave. What am I without you?”
When Kanan and Ezra return from
Krownest without Sabine, Hera closes her eyes and thinks with all her might:
Fly, bird, fly.
“Some corner of a foreign field that is forever England.“
The Entente had controlled the skies during the battles of 1916, sending the German Imperial Air to regain the initiative. With help from ace pilot Oswald Boelcke, the Germans organized the world’s dedicated fighter squadrons - Jagdstaffels or “hunting squadrons” - trained by experts and unattached to any unit on the ground, giving them free reign to patrol the air over No Man’s Land.
On the other side of the lines, the Allies started a new, massive offensive in April 1917. The British Royal Flying Corps began running constant missions, scouting German lines, bombing supply depots, and strafing troops. Unfortunately fro the British fliers, they came head-to-head with Germany’s new Jastas, including one led by a young aristocrat named Manfred von Richtofen. The Germans flew brand new Alabatros biplanes which were nimbler and faster than Britain’s two-man FE.2b’s and Bristol fighters. Slow, unmaneuverable British reconnaissance planes had no chance at all against the dazzlingly painted planes of Richthofen “flying circus.”
The Germans, despite being outnumbered heavily, made the British pay dearly that month. The average life expectancy of a British pilot in April 1917 was seven days. By the end of the battle Royal Flying Corps had lost 131 aircraft and 361 airmen, a third of its total strength in France.
Prompt: Imagine Bellamy watching out for you from afar: always protecting you from Murphy and the other guys, always pairing you up with himself during hunts, always making sure you have enough rations. One day, you guys (you, Bellamy, Clarke, Finn, Monty, Jasper, & Octavia) go out hunting. This time, it’s Grounders. You’re the best negotiator and everyone votes that they bring you along. Needless to say, Bellamy isn’t too happy with that. He’s always felt responsible for you, on the ark and down on Earth. He’s also developed feelings for you. You two always flirt playfully, but you think nothing of it because he doesn’t seem to act at all. Little do you know, Bellamy doesn’t exactly know how you feel. I hope it’s okay that I changed it up a little, anon. I tried my best & hope you like it xoxoxox! It’s come out as more of a one-shot, so I hope that’s okay. I’m not a big fan of writing in the opposite person’s POV, mainly because I’m not very good at it, but I hope this isn’t too bad! look at how many times I’ve said “hope” lol
Requested: Yes, in Bellamy’s POV,
Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader
Warnings: cuddles and burns
What the hell? I work so hard to keep Y/N safe, and here she is on the Grounder hunt with us. We’ve known each other since before O was born, she’s our best friend and I swore to her mother that I’d protect her. Why is luck never on my–”Oof!” I look over to my side to see a smiling Y/N.
“Hey, Bellamy,” she whispers and looks at me hesitantly, her light brown hair gleaming in the sunlight. Holy crap, shes beautiful. “I know you didn’t want me here, but I’m here to help. I promise I’ll look out for myself.”
I frown outwardly and nod, thinking that I’d be watching out for her as well. “Yeah, of course you will, Y/N. You need people looking out for you at every step, what makes you think you can look out for yourself now?” I let out a little harshly and hear her intake of breath.
“Then maybe you should just leave me if I’m such a hindrance to everyone,” she almost growls out and stomps off ahead of me.
“W-wait, Y/N!” I call out her name to avail. She continues to walk ahead of everyone, and I follow at a safe distance behind her. Finn and Clarke are a few feet behind us and Octavia, Jasper, & Monty behind them.
Moments later, we hear a loud horn going off a little further away. I stop in my tracks and the others do the same, all of us knowing what that means. Y/N, however, had no clue what that was, so she kept going in the direction of the sound’s origin in hopes of finding out what it meant.
“Y/N no!” I run forward and grab her as we finally see the fog. “Everyone run!” I hold on to Y’N’s arm as everyone else runs to find cover. I ignore her yells and look around for a cave or a hole in the ground. My eyes land on a car door embedded in the ground, the entry to a supply depot that Clarke and I uncovered the guns in. The fog inches closer and we both quickly run–well I run and pull Y/N with me. I hear her scream, not looking back as I quickly open the door and jump into the ground, pulling Y/N with me as she pants and whimpers. I quickly lock the door and run over to her, she’s now doubled over, her hands on her knees as she winces.
“Hey, look at me angel. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong,” I cup her face and force her to look up at me. She winces and bites her lip.
“M-my shoulder. It’s it’s burned or something,” she winces and closes her eyes.
“The fog,” I whisper and look down at her. “Let me help,” she looks at me confused and I hope she sees my intentions are nothing if not good. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, Aladdin,” she jokes and pants lightly. “I trust you.”
“I’m gonna have to take off your shirt to check your wound. We’re in a supply depot, there may be some cleaning kits in here as well,” I whisper soothingly, my hands on her hips as I try to help her.
She nods and that’s my cue. I immediately pull her shirt over her head and my breath stops as I accidentally lay eyes on her mostly bare top. I look up at her and she’s watch me, her cheeks coated with a light blush as she looks away. I clear my throat and pick her up. I carry her over to a bedpost and let her sit there as I look for emergency kits. After looking in some cabinets and boxes, I finally come across some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and bandages. I turn to face Y/N and she turns her back to me, moving her hair to the side hesitantly. I watch her and inch closer to her slowly. I sit down on my knees, facing her back as I open the bottle of alcohol and pour some onto some cotton balls.
“B-Bell,” I hear her soft whisper and look up, she turns her head slightly facing me. “Thank you, for everything. I know it seems like I’m inconsiderate and stubborn and ungrateful, but I am so thankful for you–on the ark and over here.”
“I know, angel,” I whisper and watch her lips move as she let’s out a relieved sigh. What the hell? I lean forward and kiss the side of her mouth. She gasps and blushes, obviously taken by surprise. “Now let me take care of your shoulder and then we can talk.”
I clean her wound and carefully place bandages all over it, taking my time and thinking about what I would say to her. Once I wrap her shoulder, loosely enough so that later Clarke will be able to remove it painlessly and properly clean the wound. I set the supplies aside on the table and Y/N moves over to make room for me on the bed. I turn around and smile softly, sitting next to her.
“So…?” I smirk and decide to complicate things for her.
“Bellamy… I really like you,” she whispers, surprising me altogether. “On the Ark, you were off limits because I would die anyway, but now I’m here. I’m on the ground and so are you. Things might be able to work down here.”
I look at her, watching the light freckles underneath her eyes. I notice her straight hair that she’s thrown over one shoulder, but she’s missed a strand and it’s not splayed across her forehead. I see the beautiful glimmer of hope in her eyes as she waits for my answer.
“You precious little angel,” I whisper and lean forward, kissing her forehead. “I never really acted on my feelings towards you because I could never tell how you felt. But now that I know, I think we can work something out for the both of us,” I smirk and she nudges me. I look out the window, almost directly on top of us as Y/N shivers. I look over to her and she smiles.
“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while longer, and it’s been getting colder… so cuddle up,” she smiles over to me and holds her arms out.
I gladly pull her in close to me as I lean down, careful not to hurt her shoulder. I kiss her head and sigh contently. I could get used to this.
As it turned out, it was the Scots, and not the English, who should have worried about treachery in the night. Despite having fought against Bruce for much of the conflict, David of Strathbogie, Earl of Atholl, had changed sides by late 1313, and was one of the three earls with the king at Bannockburn. Another of these, however, was the king’s brother, Edward Bruce, for whom Atholl had allegedly conceived a deep hatred on account of Edward’s desertion of his wife Isabel (Atholl’s sister) for a sister of Sir Walter Ross. It was claimed by John Barbour that, this issue came to a head on the night of the 23rd, when Atholl and his men headed towards the Scots supply depot at Cambuskenneth. There, they slew Sir William Airth along with many of his men, and raided the supplies in the Abbey before leaving the area completely. For this crime, Atholl’s lands were forfeited and he was banished to England, but his descendants continued to cause trouble for the Bruce kings long afterward.
Several miles away in the New Park, the Scots rose at daybreak, and readied themselves for battle as the morning of the 24th of June dawned clear and sunny. Robert Bruce had been convinced not to withdraw the previous evening, while the victories of the previous day had been an auspicious beginning, but the task facing the Scots was still immense, and the king did his best to hearten his army. Probably on the evening of the 23rd (though some sources say the next morning), he addressed them, in a speech which has been variously recorded by different sources, but was plainly inspiring to the Scots whatever its form, and if the next morning they felt any trepidation about the battle ahead, they seem to have been no less determined to face the challenge. The English chronicler Geoffrey le Baker’s account was written sometime after Bannockburn, and is likely embellished, but his description is no less compelling,
“On the other side you might have seen the silent Scots keeping a holy watch by fasting, but with their blood boiling with a fervent love for the liberty of their country which, although unjust, made them ready to die on her behalf.”
The previous evening having been the eve of the feast of St John the Baptist, the army had fasted, but now they may have received bread and wine, and, then masses were said. Walter Bower claims that Maurice, the Abbot of Inchaffray, having taken King Robert’s confession, presided over this mass, before making his own speech to the host and then leading them onto the field, walking ahead of the army with cross in hand. The Scots quickly formed up in their divisions, almost all, including the king, being on foot, many carrying axes at their sides and spears in hand. As already mentioned, most sources state that there were three divisions, two in front, and a third in the rear commanded by the king, which may have included many men from Carrick and the west highlands and islands, as well as Lowlanders. The other two seem likely to have been commanded by the king’s brother Edward Bruce and Thomas Randolph, Earl of Moray, (John Barbour’s claim that there was a fourth division under the Steward and James Douglas being largely rejected by historians, though A.A.M. Duncan has raised the possibility that Douglas was serving under Edward Bruce, which would fit his movements later in the battle). Once in their divisions, the king likely created new knights, as was chivalric custom, though again Barbour’s claim that this was when Stewart and Douglas were knighted may have been poetic licence. This done, the army advanced, moving out of the New Park and down into the land near to where the English had made camp.
(One interpretation of where the second day of the battle may have taken place (Barrow’s), with the English camp in between the Pelstream and Bannock burns. Not my picture.)
The site of the fighting which took place on the second day of the Battle of Bannockburn has never been conclusively located, despite the best efforts of historians and archaeologists across the centuries, which have most recently included a huge archaeological dig to mark the seven hundredth anniversary. Some archaeological finds would seem to support Barrow’s hypothesis, which was also largely supported by Duncan. In this view, the English encampment is thought to have been on the fields which are currently sited just across the railway from Broomridge, surrounded by the Pelstream and Bannock burns, and it is even possible that the battle itself was fought down here, or perhaps at Broomridge itself (though there are now houses on the spot). It is also possible that the battle may have been fought up the hill from Broomridge, over the other side of Balquidderock wood, on the ground that Bannockburn high school now occupies. The position of the Bannockburn Heritage Centre near Borestone (to the west of the aforementioned sites) has, in recent years, is actually very unlikely to have been the spot of the battle, though local legend states that Borestone takes its name from a nearby stone (which survived until the mid-twentieth century) in which Bruce’s standard was planted. This legend can only be definitively dated to the eighteenth century, however, and, though there are arguments for spots slightly further afield, most theories seem to agree on a spot somewhere in the vicinity of Balquhidderock wood. I cannot comment on this with authority though, and so I recommend personally reading up on the subject further, as there are other opposing arguments (and it’s also really interesting- see the references below for the full titles of Barrow and Scott’s books). For now though, I’ll return to narrating the battle.
The English army had not had a particularly restful night. Though some sources claim that the soldiers ‘spent the night in braggartry and revelry with Bacchus’, exulting in the rout of the Scots rabble they were sure would follow, other sources indicate that many within the army were anxious and restless. The cavalry had armed themselves and readied their horses in the night, and Thomas Gray states that when they saw the Scots march out of the woods, they mounted hurriedly in some alarm. The actions of their king and other leaders can hardly have been comforting- the English commanders were deeply divided, both on account of individual pride and on what course of action they should take. Seasoned veterans counselled against attacking that day, reasoning that the Scots would likely begin to melt away if the battle was postponed or become too tempted by the prospect of gaining spoils to maintain discipline. Gilbert de Clare, the Earl of Gloucester, though relatively young, is also supposed to have supported this argument, but according to the ‘Vita Edwardi Secundi’ many of the other younger nobles felt that delaying the battle was cowardly, while King Edward is said to have accused his nephew Gloucester of treachery. Gloucester did not take this at all well and, allegedly replying, ‘Today it will be clear that I am neither a traitor nor a liar’, he quit the king’s presence in anger and readied himself for battle.
(Part of the possible location of the English camp between Broomridge and the A91).
To the Scots coming out of the wood the sheer size of the English army would have been immediately apparent, and according to some reports only the vanguard was distinguishable from the rest of the vast force assembled in front of the Bannockburn, armour glinting in the early morning sun. From the English point of view the much smaller Scottish army appeared like a ‘thick-set hedge’, the two foremost divisions bristling with spears as they advanced in their schiltroms. This type of tight-knit spear formation had its weak points, but the Scots were in a much narrower, and therefore advantageous, position than Randolph’s force had been in the skirmish by St Ninian’s the previous day, and the Scots had been drilled thoroughly in the weeks leading up to the battle, enabling them to use the schiltrom offensively as well as to simply stand their ground. They moved swiftly in the direction of the English, but at one point stopped briefly in the sight of the enemy, the whole Scottish army kneeling down to pray, both confusing and impressing many on the opposite side. Soon after they rose to their feet again, battle was joined.
The Chronicle of Lanercost maintains that the main battle was preceded by a short duel between the two sides’ archers, but if so this likely stopped as soon as the main bodies of the two armies clashed. It is unclear just how this clash occurred, but, while the ‘Vita Edwardi Secundi’ implies the Scots advanced first, more sources suggest that the English vanguard, under the earls of Gloucester and Hereford, charged the Scots schiltroms, particularly those under Edward Bruce. As this Scottish division came under pressure, Thomas Randolph’s division pressed ahead to lend support, and the English vanguard began to feel the full repercussions of charging at thousands of spears head on, as the Scots held the line and did not falter under the weight of the heavy cavalry. Jammed together they found it difficult to fight effectively, and hadn’t the space to pull the schiltroms apart from the sides, and Sir Thomas Gray, whose father had been captured charging a schiltroms the previous day, wrote:
“They [the English] were not accustomed to fight on foot; whereas the Scots had taken a lesson from the Flemings, who before that had at Courtrai defeated on foot the power of France.”
The twenty-three year old Earl of Gloucester seems to have been an early casualty. Whether in a fit of pique over the accusations Edward II had levelled at him, or because he was still squabbling with his other uncle, the earl of Hereford, over who should take precedence in leading the charge, he had hurled himself at the schiltroms with much ferocity. When a phalanx that may have been under the command of James Douglas suddenly rushed forwards, however, the earl’s horse was killed on the Scottish spears and its rider hit the ground, where he was lost in the fray.
(In this recent imagining of the battle, Gloucester may be identified by his arms- yellow (or) with red chevrons. The knight to his right is possibly intended to be Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke while elsewhere in the background can be seen the arms of James Douglas, Edward Bruce Earl of Carrick, and Hugh Despenser the Younger. Not my picture)
***Gloucester’s death may have been a blow, and others in the vanguard likely met similar fates, but the Scots were not out of trouble yet, and, according to John Barbour, at some point the English archers began causing real problems forto the spearmen in the schiltroms. From his position behind the main battle, holding his troops in the rear, King Robert sent out a small cavalry force under the command of the marischal, Sir Robert Keith, numbering about five hundred and mounted on relatively light horses. Keith’s horsemen got in among the archers and scattered them, but as the archers fled they ran into their own troops coming up from behind and worsened the crush. It may have been then that King Robert committed his men to the battle and the Scots steadily pushed their foes back in the direction of the Bannock burn, the English beginning to give ground as their line collapsed and men fell backwards over each other under the weight of the Scottish onslaught. Not long afterwards, if Barbour is to be believed, an even worse omen appeared out of the wood as what looked like thousands of Scottish reinforcements headed in the direction of the battle. In fact, this was no second army at all, but the camp followers and carters and other members of the supply train who had been left behind in the New Park (tradition has it they were stationed near the appropriately named Gillies’ Hill but this is more folklore than evidence). Seeing the fight from afar, they had allegedly chosen leaders among themselves, made banners from sheets, and marched down to the battlefield in time to join the struggle. Their arrival though, appearing like a second army, was a terrible blow to the English army’s morale, and many now attempted to flee.
From where the men in charge of Edward II’s rein were standing, the situation was beginning to look rather perilous, and now the Earl of Pembroke and Sir Giles d’Argentan made the decision to remove their king from the battle. Edward was less than happy about being made to leave the field, but went, ‘much against the grain’, striking out at the Scots behind him with a mace. Once the king was clear, however, the famous knight Sir Giles d’Argentan took his leave of the party, claiming that he had never been accustomed to fleeing from a fight, and rode back into the fray, where he was killed. Pembroke and Edward, with the rest of their party, thus continued on towards Stirling castle as fast as their heels would carry them. Arriving at the gates of the castle, however, they were refused entry. Some sources imply that the garrison had switched their allegiance to the Scots, others that Philip de Mowbray, quite sensibly, pointed out to the king that once inside Stirling he would never be able to escape again. Whatever the case, the king’s party was forced to gallop hell-for-leather back the way they’d come, tearing past the King’s Knot and the battlefield in the direction of Lothian.
(Not my picture.)
The rest of the English army had not been so lucky. When the king’s standard was seen to leave the field, this signalled the complete collapse of the English defence, and men began fleeing in earnest, the Scots pursuing them with triumphant shouts, cutting down any they could reach and snatching up spoils as they went. In their haste to get away from the enemy, many of the retreating soldiers fell into the ditch behind them, through which flowed the dark waters of the Bannockburn, and this stream now became their graveyard as it filled with the bodies of the drowned and the wounded. Others fled in the direction of the castle, and Barbour describes the castle rock as visibly crawling with men as they scaled the crag any way they could. King Robert was apparently still anxious about the English deciding to turn and fight again, however- not at all an unlikely occurence, given the number of apparent victories that have been turned to defeat when it seems as if the enemy is retreating- and attempted to prevent his men from chasing them too far, especially avoiding any attack on those in the park under the castle, where the hundreds of fleeing soldiers might yet regroup. However, if we are to believe John Barbour, the king still granted James Douglas permission to pursue the party containing the English king- if captured, Edward II would have been too large a prize to pass up the opportunity completely.
In all the confusion, and despite the area swarming with men, both friend and foe, King Edward made it safely to the Torwood and from there his party, numbering around five hundred, headed south-east. James Douglas and his men swiftly gave chase, and by the time they reached Linlithgow, the Scots were nipping at the heels of the English party. According to Barbour however, Douglas’ force, numbering only around sixty, was far too small to engage them, even when they met up with another force that had defected from the English, and the Scots settled for picking off stragglers in the rear. When the English paused at Winchburgh to rest their horses, the Scots paused too, lurking some distance away and keeping a careful watch, until the English remounted and the chase began again. Eventually though, their headlong flight was successful, and Edward made it safely to Dunbar, the coastal fortress belonging to Patrick, Earl of Dunbar, who was quick to demonstrate to the English king that he was still loyal, evacuating many of his own people to make room for the royal party. From Dunbar, a small, open boat was procured, and Edward with only a few attendants, escaped by sea to Berwick, the rest of his party travelling by land as best they could, though constantly attacked by the Scots of the borders. Many of their horses were left running wild, and were seized eagerly by the Scots.
A force of Welshmen, heading towards the border under the command of Maurice de Berkley, were also much harried by the Scots, with many being taken or killed. In the south-west, Bothwell Castle received a large number of men seeking refuge, under the command of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford. Unfortunately for them, the keeper of Bothwell, Sir Walter Gilbertson, was not so reliable as the Earl of Dunbar, and, having ensured that Hereford’s force was subdued, he soon brokered a deal with the Scots, and handed over his prisoners, including the earl.
By late afternoon, the battle was very much over. The Scots busied themselves clearing up the rich pickings left behind by the magnificent English army- their fastidiousness when it came to spoils may be partially why so little archaeological evidence has survived. As well as horses, treasure, and armour, they may also have found Edward II’s seal, as he lost his in his haste to escape and had to borrow Queen Isabella’s when he finally arrived in Berwick. It was equally important to count the dead, and while it is difficult to gauge the number of Scottish losses, most accounts only give two notable names- Sir William de Vieuxpont and Sir Walter Ross, the latter allegedly a close comrade of Edward Bruce, being the brother of his mistress Isabel of Ross. The English death toll was far higher. As well as Giles d’Argentan, among the dead were
that hardy veteran of so many Scottish campaigns
Robert Clifford, Lord William Marshall, Edmund Mauley the steward of Edward II’s household, and Payne de Tibetot, whose young son and heir had been born not even a year before. The earl of Gloucester’s body was also identified among the carnage, which is said to have saddened King Robert, the two being close kin, and a guard was appointed to wake the corpse that night. Gloucester’s body was later returned to England and buried in Tewkesbury Abbey, while several of the other English nobles were given honourable burials. The rest of the army, meanwhile, was interred in large pits.
(The earliest known artistic portrayal of the Battle of Bannockburn, from a manuscript of the fifteenth century Scotichronicon. Obviously not my picture.)
While Bruce may well have lamented Gloucester, his death also meant the loss of a hefty ransom for the Scots, but in that department at least they were generally richly rewarded, not least with the capture of the Earl of Hereford. Humphrey de Bohun was later to be exchanged, with others, for the aged yet formidable bishop of Glasgow, Robert Wishart, and several of Robert Bruce’s kinswomen, including his queen, Elizabeth de Burgh, his sister Mary, and his daughter Marjorie Bruce, all of whom had been in captivity in England since 1306. Other captives were not of such high rank, but still had their uses- for example, Robert Baston, a Carmelite friar who had apparently been brought along with Edward II’s army to compose poetry commemorating his victory over the Scots. In the event, he was captured by the Scots and in return for his release was commissioned to write poetry for them, though Baston’s poetry is less partisan than either side might have liked, and more grief-stricken than triumphant. I agree with Walter Bower in that Baston’s poem makes for interesting reading, particularly from the point of view of someone who was near the field at the time of the battle itself, so here are a few verses:
“Weeping in my tent, I lament the battles joined,
not knowing (God be my witness!) which king is to blame for them.
This is a twofold realm, where either half seeks to be master; neither wishes to be a supplicant subjected to the other. England and Scotland are two Pharisaic kingdoms. This one is at the top and so is the other, lest one or the other fall. Hence spring gaping flanks, spattered with rose-red gore, embattled ranks, mown down with bitter anguish; hence wasted strength, overwhelmed by Mars, hosts engulfed while hammering out mutual conflict; hence pallid faces, one drowned, another buried; hence manifold mourning, a noise that mounts to the stars; hence wars that arise and waste the resources of the land. I cannot recount the particulars of a massacre that transcends all reckoning
All round the scene are places heaped high with spoils. Words charged with menace are hurled back and reinforced with acts. I know not what to say. I am reaping a harvest I did not sow. I renounce the trickery of guile; I cultivate the peace that is a friend of right. Let him who cares for more assume the care of writing it. My mind is dulled, my voice is harsh, my work totally blurred.
I am a Carmelite, surnamed Baston. I grieve that I am left to outlive such a carnage.”
Sixty years later, John Barbour took a rather different view of the battle in his poem ‘the Brus’, written in the days of Robert I’s grandson. His work is a romance more than history, though it provides many details for events that we cannot find elsewhere and is therefore an invaluable source, if often problematic. Thus Bannockburn is presented in triumphant terms, but is not without its chivalric episodes, as in the story Barbour tells of the Yorkshire knight Sir Marmaduke Tweng. The survivor of Stirling Bridge had similarly managed to weather Bannockburn and, by hiding his armour under a bush, somehow managed to avoid coming across any of the thousands of Scots roaming the field for much of the day. When he happened to come across the Scottish king however, he spurred his horse in Bruce’s direction and yielded to him personally. Apparently impressed by this, King Robert ensured that he was treated well, chivalrously waived Tweng’s ransom, and sent him home to England laden with gifts.
Eventually, Stirling Castle, the source of all the troubles, surrendered to the King of Scots. It was then razed, like Edinburgh and Roxburgh, so it could not be held by the English again, but it was of course rebuilt later on, and survived to continue causing trouble across the centuries.
The Battle of Bannockburn did not end the First War of Independence. It didn’t even prevent Robert I from being faced by threats from other Scottish magnates, though it certainly did do much to bolster his position in his kingdom and rendered his rule a great deal more acceptable to many of his subjects. Even some English commentators seem to have reluctantly conceded his primacy, and Bannockburn certainly played a huge role in this- Sir Thomas Gray, for example, refers to Bruce as the king of Scotland for the first time in the paragraph immediately following his account of the battle. Edward II’s ambitions in Scotland were also massively affected, and though the English king did mount other campaigns against the Scots they were largely unsuccessful and were often less confident than even the Bannockburn campaign. Bannockburn was also a triumph for a new way of fighting, and some of the tactics used therein found their way into the style of warfare practised so expertly by the English on their French campaigns during the Hundred Years’ War, and other instances of late mediaeval warfare. Its importance in popular culture from the fourteenth century to the present day, should also not be overlooked, even if some examples are rather cringeworthy. All in all, whilst it is important to recognise that Bannockburn was not the pivotal, conflict-ending event it is often claimed to be, it is still a fascinating battle, associated with many compelling stories, and is of great historical significance, both for Scotland and Britain as a whole, which makes it well worth studying.
Buying items for college is both stressful and expensive, and I have a few tips to those who want to buy quality items at reasonable prices. If you’re living on campus, check out the list I have posted as a guideline for purchasing items for college. If you’re a community college student, I have created a list for you also. Both lists are on this blog. Also, feel free to reblog and share this information with others.
Do not be afraid to check retail stores such as TJ Maxx, Ross, and Marshals before heading to Bed Bath and Beyond, Target, or Walmart. Some items will have to be purchased from Target or Walmart, because the prices are unbeatable on some items. Also, check to see if Amazon’s price is lower than that of a retail store.
When shopping for school supplies and cleaning supplies, try Dollar Tree (some items are actually great quality and name brand) and Dollar General. (Coupons can also be used at these stores, so if you have a coupon go ahead and use it.)
Shop back to school sales for school supplies at Office Depot, Office Max, and Staples. (It is possible to get folders for 1 penny, and you can go to multiple locations to get the deal over and over again.) Target and Walmart also have school supply sales, but they are closer to school starting and don’t have penny sales.
Back to School sales generally pick up in late-July and early August, so keep your eyes on the circulars sent to your home address. Don’t wait until the last minute to buy school supplies because the prices raise significantly.
Before you purchase a minifridge call your university’s housing department or check their website for micro-fridge rentals (oftentimes the cost can be split between the roommates, rather than purchasing a fridge and having to haul it back and forth every year, they aren’t worth the hassle). Also, find out what size is allowed if you bring your own. Housing violations are serious and can e avoided with proper preparations. If you must purchase your own, try Costco or Sam’s club, they have great prices on them during the summer.
If you have to purchase your own furniture, try Goodwill and the Salvation Army. Sometimes these places have gently used and brand new furniture for sale at insanely low prices.
Home Depot or something: [sends 4 boxes of paint samples to the school in lieu of a mural project]
Student 1: [comes back from buying snacks during break] There’s like… boxes of free shit in the lunch room. Like paint and stuff. [literally has a bunch of paint pots in his hood that he’s taking out to show everyone
Student 2: [jumps up] FREE PAINT
The entire senior class descends on the boxes like starved hyenas. They’re packing these samples into hoodies and backpacks and pockets like these are the only twinkies they’ve seen and it’s the zombie apocalypse. Hell, they’re making SLING BAGS out of their hoodies to carry all these samples.