Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or The 100

1. Natasha Romanoff

2. Clint Barton

3. Laura Barton

4. Yelena Belova

5. Melina Vostokoff

6. Maria Hill

7. Carol Danvers

8. Hela Odinsdotter

9. Sylvie Laufeyson

10. Pepper Potts

11. Tony Stark

12. Loki Laufeyson

13. Thor Odinson

14. Brunnhilde

15. Steve Rogers

16. Bruce Banner

17. Frank Castle

18. Jessica Jones

19. James Rhodes

20. Wanda Maximoff

21. Pietro Maximoff

All of the mates mentioned above, won't be in this part, but those are just the mates that will show up and be mentioned in later parts.

And yes, I'm keeping it only Marvel and The 100. No DC in this. Sorry to anyone hoping for DC characters.

So, take three on me attempting to make a long fic, or a long series, since this is just the first part of a few.

Warnings for homelessness talk of unsafe situations, possible threats of rape and stealing.

The vampires and the homeless girl

The very clearly outdated and old Walkman was one of the few pleasures that she had, however, she knew that she would have to make a choice at some point, between holding onto it all day, or storing it away in her bunk that she had made for herself down here. And in the meantime, getting food for herself. Otherwise, she'd be carrying her Walkman around all day, risking it getting broken or stolen. She had no idea why anyone would want to steal a Walkman, when those things were outdated by almost a century-okay, not for that long, but for a pretty damn long time.

So, she knew she would have to stash it away.

And that was what she did. She took her daddy's Walkman, the headphones and all the tapes and stashed them away in the compartment of the bunk she'd made, and she got ready to slip out of her safe place, into the wretched world.

You'd think it would be difficult for her to keep clean, because of where she lived. But no, as long as she had scrounged up or stolen enough money? She could usually get enough to buy toiletries she needed to keep herself at least, smelling nice, if not totally clean.

Exiting from the enclave from where she had stowed away her things, pulled the hood of her hoodie up over her blonde hair, and she looked ahead, peering up through the opening above her, to the right side of what had more or less become her home.

Sunlight came through the opening and Clarke looked down at the platform where she walked along, making sure there weren't any rats nearby.

There were plenty of dangers here. Rats, floodings from storms. Other homeless people.

She didn't want to be cruel to "her own," but, she knew that she'd have to be careful whenever some of "her own" were nearby, especially if they were men. She glimpsed through the storm drain and looked up, making sure no one was walking overhead. She knew exactly where along the streets of San Francisco, California, she was. So, she knew there were no cameras around, so, she slipped out of the storm drain.

There was a metal ladder affixed to the wall, that allowed her to climb out.

She slipped out from the storm drain, and looked around the street, as soon as she was out. Smiling, upon seeing that no one was around, so no one had seen her.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her sunglasses. She opened them up and put them on.

kept her eyes blocked from sunlight, since even if she might be lacking in proper vitamin D, her eyes certainly didn't need to have sun in them.

She quickly made her way down the road, knowing there were some trashcans nearby that hadn't yet been emptied into a garbage truck.

Being homeless was far from glamorous. She had several extra pairs of sneakers at one time, but she'd sold more than a few of the nicer ones for money. They got her a good amount, and she had some of that amount kept away in her home in the sewer. The rest she'd spent on food, mostly food that could be kept around for almost a weak, so as to have food longer, even if it was only a small portion of food at a time.

And she had several unopened bottles of water.

The only thing that got complicated, was when it got hot out. During the winter? Clarke could technically make due. She would have to steal or earn a lot of money. And would have to buy lots of blankets. Lots and lots of blankets.

But when it got hot out? That was somewhat more difficult.

But she managed.

She got to the dumpster, climbed up on it and peered inside. Thankfully, she saw no one there. Even if there was no one present in the dumpster? She was glad that she had the cannister of pepper spray that she had bought not long ago, on her. A lot of people like her, weren't too keen to share. At least, not without a price. And since she was a young woman that might be considered "passably cute," and she doubted that people on the street were too picky about where they got their kicks, so, she always was careful to see if someone was near any dumpster she might dive into. Especially if there were any homeless men around.

Seeing no one in the dumpster, she smiled and swung one leg over the side of the dumpster, then the other, dropping down into the metal container, and sifting through the trash.

A few years ago, when she was in a position to be judgmental, she most likely would have thought this to be disgusting. And it was. But it was one of the few options she had.

Clarke Griffin, only twenty years old, had had to grow up fast. Real fast. Especially after her daddy had died when she'd been fourteen years old.

Her mother, her own biological mother, had thrown her out on the streets, almost as soon as her father was dead in some sort of car accident.

Abby Griffin, Clarke Griffin's biological mother, who Clarke was more and more ashamed to call her mother as the time went on by, had happily turned her out and moved in with her new husband and her boyfriend on the side.

Markus Kane, Abby's husband and Bellamy Blake, Abby's boyfriend, at least, that was what Clarke heard.

From what she understood, Clarke's former home was now the home of several thugs that were friends of Bellamy Blake, including his younger sister.

It had made Clarke laugh, honestly, sometimes, when she thought about it too much.

Her biological mother, was willing to offer a home to a group of what were likely criminals. But not to her. Not to Abby's own daughter.

It was enough to make her realize how sad it was. She couldn't even really be angry about it any longer.

It was just sad.

Besides, Clarke had had years to be angry about it. And it was all wasted energy now.

Six years alone one the street, hungry, sometimes too cold or too hot that she thought she might not survive. She had to focus her energy on other simpler things. like survival.

Yes, sometimes, if not often, she would imagine going back to the house where she'd spent the first fourteen years of her lifetime, sneaking in with a knife or some other sharp instrument she'd gotten her hands on from the streets, and systematically slit the throat of every single person in that house, who had hurt her.

But then she'd remind herself that it wasn't worth it.

And yes, there were some terrible parts of her that would remind her that if she decided to do that, to go to that house and kill all of them? Then she was unlikely to be caught. Because she wasn't stupid. She knew to wear gloves. And she'd keep her hair restrained so that no strand fell out and was found by the police, and there would be no reason for anyone to realize that it was her, after all, she would have been classified as "missing" now, for six years.

Even if someone suggested that it was her, where would the proof be?

However, she chose not to pursue those thoughts long. Because what would that get her? Yes, she'd get her revenge, but what then? Even if she stole a good portion of the possessions of her mother and of her mother's boyfriend and husband and their friends, how long would the money from those possessions last?

So, the question was, would it be worth it? Most likely not.

Had her resentment built up over the years to the point that she could imagine herself doing it? Oh, certainly.

However, she had to think about how much she might gain and if it would be worth it for such trouble.

And she had decided that it wasn't worth the trouble. Nothing else than that.

After grabbing everything she could from the dumpster, pulling herself out of the container and dropping back onto the gravel street, her arms full of old bread that thankfully hadn't developed mold yet, cookies and some recently thrown out takeout food that miraculously, had big chunks of meat in it that the rats hadn't gotten to yet.

This sadly, was what Clarke would call a "good day."

She wished she'd had better days, but she hadn't.

But this was good enough for now. The meat wouldn't stay long, unfortunately. She'd have to eat it soon. As soon as she got back to her "lair" in the sewer.

The cookies had a lot of sugar in them, so, it would keep her energized till the next day. She'd save the cookies for tonight.

She got to the sewer, after checking both sides of the road, to make sure there was no one around that might stop her from taking her treasures off to her home. There was no one stopping her, so she slid down into the storm drain, and dropped down to the platform, and ran to where her enclave was.

On the other side of the city, there were several individuals that could only be classified as "dangerous."

Vampires. Twenty-one of them.

Twelve women and nine men.

You'd say that there were no such things as vampires. You would be wrong. Vampires are quite real. And they know better than to reveal themselves to anyone. Which is why knowledge of them has mostly remained in legends for centuries.

These twenty-one vampires, like all vampires, could easily pass for human, for they looked as human as the day they were first sired.

They moved through the streets of San Francisco easily, moving fast and quick. It was a few hours before they reached the middle of the city, then the end of the city. They easily could have run there, but should they have, many would have seen them move with inhuman speed, and the whole reason why there were as many vampires in the world as there was, was simply because they knew better than to reveal themselves.

It was when they reached the edge of the city, that each of them could feel something. Something strong. A presence. Something that made their hearts stop for a moment and make their blood alight with desire.

They all looked at each other, startled.

None of them had felt something like this…ever.

Well, that wasn't true. At least four of them had experienced this before. Two of the vampires in question, who recognized the feeling; Clint and Laura Barton, looked at each other, startled. They had felt this feeling before. Only one time before. When they had first met.

Clint and Laura Barton were soulmates and as soon as they had met, they felt the connection. Neither of them had sired the other. Laura Barton was born a vampire. Clint and his brother were turned by vampires in a traveling circus. And they had met years and years after Clint was sired.

They had several children now.

And both Laura and Clint understood what that feeling now meant. It meant that they had one more soulmate. One they hadn't met yet.

"Another soulmate?" Clint asked, startled.

"Yeah," Pepper said, shivering, she and Tony both also recognizing the feeling as they looked around, searching for this other mate, in shock.

Pepper and Tony both were born vampires. And when Pepper's parents and Tony's parents met for a business meeting for their covens, that was when Pepper and Tony had met and first felt the connection.

They, like Laura and Clint, hadn't realized that they had another mate.

"You feel that too?" Tony asked, staring at Laura, Clint and the others.

"Oh, fuck," Jessica said, shaking her head, "This is so fucked."

"Where is-?" Yelena mumbled, her eyes scanning wherever their shared mate might be, but not feeling the connection intensify, no matter who she looked at.

Natasha Romanoff, born a vampire, stood next to her adoptive mother, Melina and she was cautiously glancing around the room, searching from alley to alley, searching the corners of the building.

She was tense, her green eyes narrowed as she searched. Yelena growled next to her, getting impatient. Natasha sighed, raising her right hand and placing it onto Yelena's left shoulder.

"We'll find our mate," Natasha assured her sister and the vampire who she had turned, "It's okay." Natasha wasn't even close to as confident as she sounded, but she needed to be the calm one amongst the two of them.

Natasha was certain that if their mate was setting off this reaction when they were around this area? Then their mate had to be nearby.

As they looked and smelled for any sign of their mate, if they could find said mate, they passed by a sewer's storm drain, completely unaware of someone important to them living in there. They chose to stay near the location where they felt the connection, figuring that if their mate was causing this feeling, this connection while they were near this location, they needed to stay. Wait and see if they actually found their mate.

Down below, in the sewer, Clarke stuffed herself full of the meat, making sure she had protein in her as she ate away.

Hours later, she set up several barricades around the rest of the food, making sure that no pests could get to any of the other pieces of food she had stolen away.

She lifted herself up off the hard cement floor and whirled around, away from the compartment that she had selected to be where she lived and started walking down the strip of cement that made the walkway.

She had lived as a homeless person for six years. She could handle herself. But like everyone, she got bored. Since she had already secured food, water and money, which were the most important, it was time to find some entertainment.

She had shoved some money into her pocket, had put some of her stored away deodorant on, and brushed her teeth with some stored away toothpaste and decided to see if she could find something to buy and read.

She had washed her hair a week and a half ago. It wasn't that oily, yet. So, she hopefully wouldn't be getting that many stares or ugly looks.

She found the metal ladder again, climbed up it and got to the storm drain. She peered out of the drain, checking back and forth. It was night out now, but there were lights from the city above and from the lampposts, which allowed her to see. She saw no one nearby and saw no cars or anything else coming, so, she climbed up out of the storm drain.

Had she known what would be awaiting for her just above the sewer, what would turn to look at her, as soon as she pulled herself out of the storm drain, realizing where the mating pull they were feeling was coming from, Clarke never would have climbed out of the storm drain that night.

Had she known what would be awaiting her that night, she would have stayed in the storm drain.

Author's note:

If this feels incomplete to anyone? That's because it's just the first part of a series.