#⋄ * ✿ ⋄ * WELLS JAHA. › desires.

[aughts]

w. jaha.

[moonylantsovs]

Heyyy can u plz write a season one Bellamy blake x reader griffin/Kane SMUT where they are enemies and leaders of the 100 but don't see eye to eye on anything but have too much sexual tension and attraction towards each other and decide to give into their desire for one night cause they think if they screw each other they get their attraction out of their system?

Invisible String [B.B]

summary: hating him was easier than loving him. especially when clarke went through so much trouble to keep them away from each other. but for some reason, her attraction to him was much larger than her dignity

pairings: bellamy blake x caroline griffin (oc) a/n: the oc has no description, so feel free to imagine whoever you wish, I just write better when the main character has a name

tags: (18+) wells jaha lives, cursing, the nickname "princess" cause it's kind of cringey but fits their dynamic, SMUT; hate sex, (kinda) dom!bellamy, dirty talk, hate sex, hair pulling

Hating Bellamy Blake was almost too easy.

He was too cocky for his own good and was even worse at listening to orders than Caroline. He had been tormenting her, her sister and Wells since they landed.

But a long time has passed since their first days on Earth. The camp was functioning well and Caroline and Clarke found a way to work with Bellamy. After a kid died and Murphy was banished after being accused of killing some privileged kid, they formed a truce. Bellamy was the one leading the hunting trips and watching over the delinquents who were building the wall, Clarke was in charge of keeping the peace with the Grounders (the liberty of her having a thing with their Commander) and Caroline decided who got which job and worked with Raven to make radios and get in contact with The Ark.

She was not that thrilled about her mother coming down because, before she got arrested, she was not exactly mother of the year. Still, she felt guilty about the innocent people who were dying up there while there was a safe planet waiting for them.

Caroline let out a sigh and stood up, instantly drawing Raven’s attention to herself. She wiped her sweat off of her face with a rag and placed it down on the table, before saying, “I think that I’m done for today. I have to discuss some stuff with Bellamy.”

Raven snorted and raised an amused eyebrow, her tone taunting. “Oh, I bet. So much for staying away from him.”

The Griffin rolled her eyes at the reminder of her sister’s warning and wordlessly walked out of their work tent. Bellamy was very blunt with his flirting when they weren’t spitting insults at each other and when he wasn’t sleeping with half of the camp. Caroline was slightly annoyed and brushed it off quickly, but Clarke was down-right pissed. Her protective older sister was on and she was quick to tell Caroline how bad of an idea getting involved with Bellamy was. Her lecture was at least five minutes long but Caroline did not listen to a word that she said. She was not stupid. She knew that even flirting with Bellamy was a bad idea, but she was not planning on it. She liked to believe that she had standards.

“Hey, Princess.” Bellamy greeted her when she entered his tent without knocking. “You’re early.”

“No, you just slept in.” Caroline deadpanned while scanning his bare chest with a blank look on her face while he sat on the edge of his makeshift bed. “Some of us have been up and working for hours.”

Okay, yes, Bellamy was an asshole. But he was a hot asshole. If you asked her, she would say that the fact that he was annoying only made him more attractive. But that might just be her daddy issues talking.

He furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “Shit, is it really late?”

“Yeah, it’s almost lunch.” She shrugged and walked across his tent to grab one of his shirts. She absentmindedly threw it on him, silently telling him to get dressed. “I told Wells to let you sleep. You were keeping guard pretty late last night.”

She told herself that it was because he needed his eight hours of sleep if he was going to function properly. He was even more grumpy when he slept for only two hours.

Bellamy’s lips tugged into a grin and then fell open as he let out a dramatic gasp. “Was that you being nice?” She rolled her eyes and he was quick to add, “I’m sorry, I only ever saw you being nice to Clarke and Wells. Is it snowing outside?”

“Shut up.” Caroline muttered, her eyes involuntarily flickering toward his hands. “Just get dressed. We have work to do.”

He grabbed the blue shirt that she gave him but made no move to put it on. He simply raised a knowing eyebrow. “Are you sure that you want me to do that? You don’t want to keep checking me out?”

Caroline felt heat rushing to her face. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no words came out and she was desperately trying to find something to say. A couple of seconds later, she simply blurted out, “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that good looking.”

His smirk only grew. “Oh, so I’m not that good looking?” He stepped closer and she wished that the ground would swallow her whole. “I knew you liked me, Princess.”

“You wish,” She shot back, but made no move to step away from him. His scent was intoxicating and she could not look away from his face. His dark eyes were flickering between her eyes and her lips and she swore that they only got darker when her breath hitched.

Bellamy lifted his hand to brush some of her hair away from the face and he licked his lips, an action that only made her stare at his lips longer. He pushed his face closer to her own and just as he was about to lock their lips together, Wells’ voice rang through the air.

“Bellamy, did you take my─” He cut himself off when he looked up from the ground to see his best friend standing inappropriately close to the guy that she hated for months. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he silently looked back and forth between the two of them for a couple of moments. He swallowed and awkwardly croaked out, “I’ll come back later. Or never. Probably never.”

Caroline watched the place he was standing at a couple of seconds ago in shock. She quickly stepped away from Bellamy and cleared her throat. “Get dressed and meet me in the map tent.”

Bellamy watched her leave the tent in a rush and chuckled to himself the second she left.

-

Caroline wished that they could simply work in silence, each on their own side of the tent. After what happened earlier that morning, the last thing that she needed was to spent the next couple of hours before lunch with Bellamy. Especially because he seemed completely unfazed. If anything, his amusement only grew every time he would catch her staring at him which would lead to her having to look away or narrow her eyes into a glare to seem annoyed rather than flustered.

He saw right through her. That might be the reason why she hated him so much. She had always tried to keep her walls up as high as possible because she was afraid of letting people in. But Bellamy could read her like an open book.

“We should move Jasper from the gate and get Miller there.” Caroline suggested as she leaned over the map of their camp. “I love him to death but he runs at the first sight of danger. There is no one better than Miller. I trust him to stay there more than anyone.”

Bellamy surprised her by shaking his head. Her eyebrows furrowed. Was Miller not his best friend? “Guarding the gate is a big responsibility, yes, but it’s also dangerous. The guards there are usually the first to go. We have to put someone disposable there.”

Caroline let out a humorless laugh and looked at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? No one in this camp is disposable. We put the most competent person there, no matter how much either one of us cares about him.”

The Blake shrugged. “I don’t know if losing him is worth it.”

“And losing someone else is?” She retorted and stepped away from the table and scoffed. “I cannot believe you. You talk shit about The Ark, Jaha and the privileged for sending us here and labeling us as disposable but you are not any different. For some reason, those kids out there trust you but you are willing to sacrifice any of them if it means saving your ass and the two people you care about.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with anger the second that she compared him to the monsters that killed his mother and locked up his sister. He stepped closer to her and glared down at her. “Stop pretending that you know me, Princess. You can’t psychoanalyze everyone in your life just because of one decision they make.”

Caroline glared back at him, not intimidated. “And you can judge people based on who their parents are? That’s ironic. I would not be surprised if you were planning to tell me that I should guard the gate since you clearly hate me so much. Putting me there is the easiest way to get rid of me, right?”

“Maybe I do hate you?” His words made her falter in surprise. “How can I not? You always have something to say about every decision I make. You take every opportunity to argue with me. Whenever I think that we are starting to see eye to eye, you do another thing to drive me crazy. And I hate myself for it a lot more than I hate you because despite you being everything that I’m against I still…” Bellamy did not finish his sentence and simply stared at the clueless look on her face. After a couple of seconds of silence, he muttered, “Fuck it.”

Caroline stumbled back in surprise which led to her sitting on the desk. Before she got the chance to kiss him back, he pulled away. His breath fanned across her lips and he stared at her, trying to find any hint of disgust or hesitance. He did not find any. But this time, she was the one that kissed him. She gripped his shirt to keep him closer while one of his hands tangled in her hair. Her breath hitched when he used his grip on her cair to pull her head down in order to reveal her neck. He did not think twice before he messily started placing open-mouthed kisses over her exposed collar bone.

She moaned and spread her legs so he could comfortably stand between them. His other hand found her waist and she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling on his curls lightly to spur him on. He pushed down her shirt to reveal her bra so he could keep sucking hickies down to her breats. The hand on her waist squeezed it and he paused, squeezing his eyes shut to get it together.

“Did you─ did you ever have sex?” Bellamy asked,his dark eyes practically piercing through her soul.

Caroline’s eyes almost softened at the genuine worry in his voice. He was grounded enough to ask the eighteen year old, who spent the last six years of her life locked up, if she was a virgin or not. Luckily, after Clarke broke Wells’ heart, she was more than fine with being his rebound to keep her mind off of other things.

She rapidly nodded, tugging at his shirt so he could get back to what he was doing before.

“Words, Caroline,”

Caroline. Not Princess or Baby Griffin. Just Caroline.

“Yes.” She breathed out. “I had sex before. Now stop being so uncharacteristically considerate and kiss me.”

Bellamy did not need to be told twice. He leaned back down to kiss her and her hands quickly found their way around his neck to pull him closer to her despite them already being chest-to-chest. His tongue slipped into her mouth and easily won the short battle for dominance.

Caroline placed her hands on his chest to push him away. He gave her a confused look which disappeared when she pulled her shirt over her head. He smirked and then copied her actions, exposing his chest. This time, she shamelessly checked him out.

Bellamy was pleasantly surprised when she reached down to pull his pants down along with his underwear. Her hand wrapped around his dick and started to slowly move her hand up and down, almost as if she was teasing him. He let out a low groan and leaned his hands on either side of her. He rested his forehead against hers and kept his eyes on her as she jerked him off.

“Fuck, Princess.” He cursed, his breath hitching. He was ashamed of how close he was just from her jerking him off.

He pulled her hand away and just as she was about to ask him what he was doing, he pulled her off of the desk in order to pull her hands down. He wrapped his arms around her thighs to place her back on the table and she gasped in surprise when his fingers slipped between her legs. His fingers teased her opening until she was whining into his mouth.

“Don’t tease.”

He chuckled and dipped one of his fingers inside of her. “Patience.”

She did not argue and simply leaned back, letting him pump his fingers in and out of her while he rubbed her clit. She moaned his name lowly, aware that if they were too loud, the others outside could hear them. Bellamy almost moaned at the sight of the girl squirming and trying her hardest to stay quiet on the table. The girl who never kept her mouth shut and was a force to be reckoned with was completely at his mercy.

Before Caroline could finish, he pulled his hand away. She panted and gave him a weak glare. “You’re a dick,”

“I didn’t hear you arguing when you were moaning my name.” He shot back and cupped her ass to bring their bodies closer together. He wrapped one of his hands around his dick and slid inside of her. He let out a deep groan and she let out a high pitchen moan due to his lack of patience. Bellamy placed one of his hands over her mouth and whispered, “Be quiet for me, Princess. You don’t want the rest of the camp to hear how much you hate me, do you?”

She shook her head and her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he pulled out and roughly pushed back inside her. He was no better than her. He was cursing and groaning as she rolled her hips back into his own.

They spent a couple of minutes like that, soaking in pleasure and the thrill that they got from the fact that anyone could walk into the tent at any minute. “I’m close.” He muttered and used the hand that was not covering her mouth to rub her clit in order to get her closer to the edge.

Caroline’s nails dug into his shoulders and the moaned against his hand, almost reaching her peak. He groaned at the pain and only snapped his hips against her faster. Her vision blurred and her eyes squeezed shut when she finally fell over the edge and came around him. Her walls squeezing him like a vice was what pushed him over the edge and he was quick to pull out and finish on her stomach.

Caroline panted and leaned her forehead against his chest when his hand fell from her mouth.

"So much for hating me, huh, Princess?"

She groaned. "Clarke is gonna kill me."

[yerrenica]

Pairing: Jaha Lee x Reader WC: 6.2k Tags: Eventual smut, semi-public smut. Prompt: Modern (Band) AU

"Fucking hell, you're messing up the tempo."

Jaha looked up from where he was hunched over one of his guitars, locking eyes with [Y/N]. "I'm not."

"You are." She frowned, plucking at the strings of her own. Pushing herself up with one hand, she readjusted her position on the floor so her back propped against the drum set behind her. "You're going too fast."

"I'm not." Jaha repeated, eyes shifting to the guitar in his hands. He settled his gaze upon one of the googly-eyed stickers on it. It was a sticker [Y/N] got him a few weeks ago—a googly-eyed rabbit. He's grown unusually fond of it, albeit at the moment it was the most irritating thing to look at.

"You're forgetting who's the teacher here."

"And you're forgetting who's in a band, and who isn't."

[Y/N] huffed. Jaha was the one in a band, and she was a mere fan... well, a childhood friend—turned guitar instructor—turned fan. [Y/N] rolled her eyes. "And who got you into this band, hm?"

"Shut it."

"You shut it." She muttered, grabbing a drumstick from the floor before chucking it across the room at Jaha, who quickly ducked with a mocking laugh.

"Dokgo will kill you if you lose his sticks, you dumbass."

"Good." Huffing, [Y/N] put both hands back on her guitar, positioning her fingers on the frets. "I'd rather die than have to keep helping you practise." She played a few chords experimentally as she spoke before looking back up at Jaha.

Jaha rolled his eyes. "If you stopped being such a prissy bitch we would've already been done with today."

"I'm not a... prissy bitch."

Jaha hummed, shifting his fingers on the strings. [Y/N]'s eyes followed the movement and the way Jaha's expression quickly turned into a smirk. "That's what a prissy bitch would say."

"Bastard." She scowled. "Bitch is an offensive word, anyway."

"Yeah, offensive to you."

"Oh my–" [Y/N] cut herself off with a sigh. "Can we just finish? I'm tired." She mumbled as her fingers flew over her guitar in a blur, quickly playing a sped-up version of the riff they were practising. Jaha glared at the woman.

"Fucking show off."

She laughed triumphantly. "You're just mad you're not as good as me."

"Quit kissing your own ass." Jaha enunciated, his eyes drifting back to his guitar. The sticker pissed him off even more right now. "And let's start from the beginning."

The woman nodded, keeping up her jubilant smirk. Experimentally playing the first few chords, Jaha set the pace. After a few beats, he began to quietly hum the lyrics, his voice getting louder at the chorus as [Y/N] watched him intently before starting the riff.

It was their best run-through yet—[Y/N]'s hand started to cramp as she changed chords too many times too quickly, but she pushed through, wincing slightly. This was one of the few reasons she wasn't in any band and instead kept her hobby strictly a hobby—her hands weren't suited for professional playing, even though she had the desire and the passion.

[Y/N] stopped her part (which wasn't hers as she wasn't in the band) as Jaha played his guitar solo, and [Y/N]'s gaze locked onto the way his fingers moved so fast against the frets and plucked the strings, playing the riff perfectly. He was good—he was great, and [Y/N] knew that even though she'd never admit it. Deep down, she envied him. The fact that he, who only started playing because she asked him to was in a band, but she wasn't. It gnawed at her heart most nights. Her hand trembled slightly as she cleared her throat quietly and snapped back out of her trance, helping him finish off the song.

They played the last part, and Jaha furrowed his brows in concentration as he finished. Sitting in silence, they looked at each other.

"That was good." [Y/N] said, taking her hands off the guitar. As she did, the cramp flared up again, and she clutched at her wrist with a grimace. "Shit—"

"You okay?" Jaha's voice sounded uncharacteristically soft at that moment. Looking over, she saw Jaha's concerned gaze, which made her heart race for a split moment. "Fucking hand cramp."

"Again?" Jaha grimaced. The woman nodded, biting her lower lip in discomfort, and Jaha quickly placed his guitar down before crawling over.

"Give it." He took her hand in his own larger one, gently spreading [Y/N]'s fingers as she hissed in pain. Massaging out the muscle, he pressed hard at her palm.

"Motherfu—..." [Y/N] bit down on her lower lip even harder as the pain shot through her wrist, before slowly subsiding. She was unusually pain intolerant when it came to hand cramps. She gasped, fingers twitching as relief flooded through her hand. "Dammit..."

Keeping his eyes on the woman's hand, Jaha parted his lips to speak. "Better?" [Y/N] gave a nod and a hum. Jaha's touch lingered on her hand for a moment longer, before his eyes travelled up to meet the woman's face. He was too close.

"You—" His expression hardened again before he sighed. "Quit doing that." He moved his thumb to brush over her lower lip. "You're going to split your lip open and bleed out."

Her breath almost hitched as she felt his touch on her lip, though she quickly composed herself, moving her head back, away from his hand. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Knowing you, you'd be the first to set a record for the dumbest way to bleed out." He hesitantly moved his hand away, almost as though he didn't wish to before backing away completely.

[Y/N] scowled before sighing. "Anyway, how do you not get cramps?" She shook her hand off as she asked. "You play harder stuff most of the time."

Jaha shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I'm just good with my fingers."

[Y/N] stared at him, her gaze travelling down to his long fingers. She felt a warmth pool in her stomach. "Yeah." She muttered quietly before shifting her eyes back down to her hand.

There was a momentary silence between the two as Jaha began placing his stuff back in its place. As he did so, he glanced over at [Y/N], who was still sitting on the floor, gazing down at her hand. He felt his heart ache for a split second as he observed her expression. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a stubborn furrow, creating a distinct line across her forehead. Her eyes, detached and muted, fixated on the skin she was picking at around her thumb.

He knew no words could comfort her, but the least he could do was reach out. "Any plans after this?"

She looked up to find him standing in front of her, his eyes scrutinizing her. "Oh, no." She quickly stood up, handing him her guitar so he could put it back into its rightful place.

"Let's go to the mall then."

She blinked a few times, drawing out the silence between them. "Why? Need something?"

Jaha cleared his throat, trying his hardest to keep eye contact. "Sunglasses." He said bluntly, albeit it was a lie. If he had told her that she seemed upset, and that's why he invited her out, she would've refused to go, but lying for such a reason didn't make him feel any less awkward.

"Sooo... you need my genius fashion advice?" She grinned, placing one hand on her hip.

"Alright. Forget it." He walked past her, going towards the door. The woman giggled as she followed him.

"Learn to take a joke, Jaha."

"Learn to stop being one."

The woman let out a dramatic gasp, jogging up to Jaha who was, for some reason, walking way too fast at the moment. She clutched her shirt where her heart was in a theatrical way. "Woah, low blow, low blow, low blow."

"You talk too much." He murmured as he picked up his skateboard.

"But you love listening to me talk." The woman spoke in a way that told Jaha that she was teasing, but he couldn't deny that statement either way. He simply huffed as he walked out of the studio with his skateboard in tow under his armpit.

"I thought we were heading to the mall?"

Jaha glanced at her before placing the skateboard down and positioning one foot on top of it. "We are."

"So what's with the board?"

"You can walk while I skate." He smirked before pushing himself forward and skating off further ahead.

The woman's mouth went slightly agape as she watched him. "You fucker..." She murmured. She was about to jog up to him once more but decided against it. After a few moments, Jaha made a U-turn and skated back up to [Y/N], stopping in front of her with a smirk.

"Hey." He gazed down at her shorter form. "Wanna try?"

"Skating?"

Jaha nodded. "Yeah."

"I can't." She hesitated, gazing down at the board on the ground. "I'll fall."

"I'll catch you." Jaha spoke as he moved his foot off the board, and moved to stand closer to [Y/N], placing his hand on her forearm.

She paused, contemplating it briefly before nodding, without actually having done any contemplating. "If I break something, it's your fault."

Giving her a grin, Jaha slightly tightened his grip around her forearm, dragging her further ahead so she was closer to the board.

"Step on." he said, gesturing to it. [Y/N] hesitantly did, wobbling a bit. She grabbed onto Jaha's shoulder, holding it firmly as the other touched her elbow to steady her. "Okay, good."

"Now... what?"

Jaha touched one of her legs, hands brushing against her bare skin. [Y/N] suppressed a shudder as she moved it into the right position. "You're gonna wanna use that leg to push yourself along, and then place it back onto the board in that position."

"I'll fall." She repeated, fingers digging into Jaha's shoulders harder. 

"Don't be a pussy, and you won't fall." His words were terse, but his touch was gentle as he held [Y/N]'s hand. Nonetheless, [Y/N] glared at him. Jaha gave her hand a squeeze, giving her a strangely reassuring smile which made the woman look away. "Go on."

She sighed, following the man's instructions. Jaha walked along with her as she skated slowly, tightening her grip on his hand every time she wobbled.

He watched fondly as he spoke with a smile. "You're getting it." [Y/N] looked over, and as she did she lost balance slightly. Jaha reached out before she could fall, placing a strong hand on her waist to stop her. "Keep going."

The woman pushed on, finding it difficult to concentrate. The fingers on her waist briefly tightened each time she was poised to fall, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the feeling. She hated this. The way the softness of his touch on her hand and waist made her feel. The way he was so extremely close to her. The way he smelled like a man. The way he sounded so husky right next to her ear. Everywhere she could feel his presence was on fire. Her whole body was burning up. She absolutely detested this. Screw whoever thought that putting her in this situation would be a great idea.

"Doing so well." Jaha breathed. His face was ridiculously close to [Y/N]'s, and she felt hot air hit her neck as he spoke. She pushed along again, and Jaha continued. "Yeah, just like that."

"Stop dirty talking into my ear." The woman hissed, shoving him away with her arm. The force of it pushed her back, and the board slipped from under her as Jaha let go. She fell to the hard ground, elbows scraping on the slightly rough surface. "Ow—"

Sitting up, she twisted her elbow around to see a slight graze.

"Shit, you good?" Jaha came up to her, kneeling down to take hold of her arm. 

"My ass hurts more, dickface."

"You're the one who pushed me." Jaha retorted, staring at her incredulously. 

"Because you were, fucking, all like, 'Oh yeah... just like that', and—" Jaha slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the lewd string of moans after noticing a few people giving them looks. Usually, he wouldn't give a shit if someone was staring, but for some reason, he didn't want anyone to hear [Y/N] like that, not even when the noises she was making weren't genuine.

"Okay, I get it." He said, forcing down a laugh. "I didn't sound like that, though."

[Y/N] pushed his hand away. "Yeah, you were worse."

Jaha stood up, kicking up his board before catching it with his hand. Pulling the woman to her feet, he smiled. "How's your arm?"

"Just a scratch." The woman frowned, rubbing at it. As she did, she noticed how hard Jaha was trying to control his smile, almost as though he was stifling laughs. Then the realization hit her.

"You— You did that on purpose!"

At long last, Jaha let out a series of laughs. "Sorry, I—" He breathed in after a few more chuckles. "I couldn't help myself."

"Oh my God, you are a little shit." She kicked his shin lightly, making Jaha giggle even more. A faint blush tainted her cheeks (be it from embarrassment or how Jaha's smile reached his eyes). She huffed softly, beginning to walk away.

Soon enough, they reached the mall, entering it with soft sighs as the cold air hit them, contrasting the scorching heat outside. [Y/N] hummed. "You said you need sunglasses?"

Jaha tilted his head slightly. "Huh?" Then he remembered the lie he had told the woman. "Oh, yeah."

They made their way into a clothes shop, and [Y/N]'s eyes darted around until they landed on a sunglasses rack in the corner. Grabbing Jaha's arm, she pulled him along to it.

"Try these on." She said, picking up a pair of aviators before turning to Jaha. She handed them over, watching as he slid them onto his face to look in the mirror. She nodded in approval. "They look good on you."

Jaha stared in the mirror for a moment, his face stoic, as always. "I look like a douchebag."

"You are a douchebag." The woman smiled, turning to look at him through the reflection in the mirror. "Now you're a chic douchebag."

"They fucking make me look like a high school bully." He curled his lip, taking them off his face from one handle. They bent a bit, and the woman quickly snatched them back to put them on the shelf carefully. 

"Weren't you? Back in high school?"

Jaha turned to her, raising his eyebrows. "Me?" He said, pointing to his face. "Is this the face of a bully?"

Scoffing, [Y/N] grabbed another pair, handing them to him. "There's a reason most people are afraid to talk to you."

"On the contrary." He paused for a moment. "I was the one getting beat up back then."

The woman paused before pushing the glasses on Jaha's face. "Did they stick your head in the toilets or shove you into lockers?"

Jaha couldn't help but chuckle softly, positioning the glasses on his face better. "No. I don't think that shit happens."

"If you say so." The woman handed yet another pair of sunglasses to Jaha. "Tell me their names and I'll fuck them up for you."

Rolling his eyes fondly, Jaha batted her away. "Yeah, okay. Not about to send you to your death, [Y/N]." After placing the glasses he had in hand back into their place, Jaha grabbed her face, sliding a pair of sunglasses over her eyes before stepping away.

He nodded. "Perfect."

[Y/N] turned back to the mirror, before turning back to Jaha with a scowl. "Fuck you." She reached up to take the cream-coloured middle-finger frames off her face, but Jaha quickly stopped her.

"I'll pay for them." He said desperately as he tried to hold in a laugh. He grinned as he spoke, and [Y/N] wanted to punch his perfectly straight teeth out. "Sound good?"

Folding her arms, she faced the mirror once more, letting out a sigh. "Fuck you." She repeated but made no attempt to remove them this time.

Jaha chuckled lightly, taking them off her along with his own pair of sunglasses, and they made their way to the counter to pay. He made no attempts at small talk with the cashier whilst [Y/N] stood there, staring at him, and before long they were walking out with a bag in hand.

"Put them on now." Jaha said, reaching in to grab them. His own glasses were perched on top of his head.

"Uh, no. No way in hell am I wearing those in public."

"You could style them." He suggested. He was clearly taunting her again with that snarky smirk on his face.

She stared at the way the frames had two middle fingers up, and she scrunched her nose. "I'll style them up your ass."

"Hm." Jaha smirked, placing the sunglasses on [Y/N]'s head. He was amused at the way the woman made no actual attempt to remove them. "Let's go eat."

[Y/N] felt her heart race. This was starting to seem like a date, rather than a simple outing between friends. Nonetheless, she agreed, and they began walking around the mall, looking for a suitable place to eat at. They walked past multiple restaurants, yet the one that caught Jaha's eye was...

Jaha looked around, eyes landing on a store in the corner of the mall. He halted. "Is that a... dick waffle shop?" He pointed to the bright pink sign.

The woman's mouth went slightly agape. "No fucking way." She laughed, grabbing his hand, and practically dragging him towards it. "Let's go check it out."

"What? Are you—" Before he could refuse and turn around, they had already entered inside. He groaned. "I don't want a dick waffle."

"Tough." The woman smiled as they looked around the 'restaurant'. Loud, obnoxious music played through the speakers that were placed in the corners of the ceiling, and the inside itself was covered in cheap-looking neon signs and plastic dick-shaped objects. Jaha reluctantly allowed himself to be taken to the front counter, and they both peered through the glass cabinet.

"What do you want?" The woman giggled.

"To leave."

She elbowed him in the side, and he stumbled a bit, catching himself on the glass. "Woah, didn't think you'd be so desperate." She mocked the way his hands landed on the glass, making Jaha groan in frustration and quickly step away.

He was glaring at her.

The woman ignored his lack of a response as her eyes drifted back to the waffles. "Anyway, I'll choose for you."

Jaha folded his arms, looking around as [Y/N] decided what to get. "Fucking hell... why is it so expensive?" She complained. "We'll share."

Jaha snapped his head back to look at her. "I'm not sharing a dick waffle with you."

[Y/N] gave him a look from the side. "You want your own?" Jaha was silent at that, and she grinned, turning to the guy at the counter to order; brown hair, and brown eyes—a stark contrast to the colourful dick waffles presented near him.

Jaha walked off to find a table as she ordered—eventually choosing a small corner table for the two of them. It was out of sight from the main part of the shop, which he thought was best. He'd rather not be seen in a place like this.

[Y/N] came over after a while holding a box, and she pulled out her chair to take a seat opposite Jaha. She opened the lid, and they both stared at it.

"That's fucking horrific." Jaha commented, looking back up at the grinning woman. He picked it up, holding it by the stick as white chocolate sauce began to drip down the sides.

"Looks tasty though." She spoke nonchalantly as she watched Jaha twirl it around, trying not to let stuff fall off it.

Jaha was silent for a moment, and then he smirked, locking eyes with the woman. "Open your mouth."

"What?" As she parted her lips to speak, Jaha moved forwards, forcing the waffle into her mouth. She made a noise of surprise that was muffled by the thing in her mouth, clutching at Jaha's arm as he laughed, lightly thrusting it inside. The woman gagged, and it was as though something darkened in Jaha's gaze. After a few moments, Jaha pulled away.

White chocolate mixed with saliva dripped down her chin, and she wiped at it with the back of her hand. Looking up, she glared daggers at the man, trying to catch her breath.

"What are you? A mental case?"

"Hey, you were the one who dragged me here." He said, still sneering. "Besides, that's what you're supposed to do with these." He pointed up to the small television in the corner that was displaying a couple doing the same thing. The woman shuddered.

"That's nasty. Vile."

Jaha handed [Y/N] a tissue, and she wiped the rest of her mouth.

"Still wanna eat it?" He asked as he placed the waffle back into the box. The woman observed it and then sighed dejectedly. "It's all soggy now."

"Oh, yeah." Jaha hummed, his face stoic. "Looks gross now."

"And whose fault is that?" Pushing up from the chair, [Y/N] placed a hand on her hip. The woman noted the way Jaha was looking at her and backed away a bit, her heart skipping a beat. "What?"

He snapped out of his trance and shrugged it off, walking past her as he tugged on the collar of his shirt slightly. He felt hot. "Nothing. Let's go."

The woman followed him, chucking the box with the waffle still inside into a bin, albeit reluctantly. "Can't believe I paid that much only to throw it away." She sighed.

Jaha pursed his lips, and after a moment of hesitation spoke. "Where do you wanna go? I'll buy you something."

She tilted her head slightly as she smiled. "What? You feel bad for shoving it down my throat?"

"Don't make it sound like that."

"That's what you did thou—" She made an 'o' shape with her mouth in realization. "Actually, there's a shirt I've been meaning to buy."

He nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

She quickly dragged him into yet another clothing store, walking further inside as her eyes scanned the racks and mannequins with a wide smile. He found it endearing how she seemed so excited over something as simple as a new shirt.

"You wanna buy... that?" Jaha asked, seeing as [Y/N] held up a blouse from its hanger. Jaha looked between it and the one she was currently wearing right then. "You literally have, like, ten million versions of that same shirt."

"It's a blouse. And I don't." She smiled, picking up a few other ones and shoving them into Jaha's arms. She then moved further ahead, looking through the shorts, and skirts the store had. It was summer, and wearing pants was not an option.

"Yes, you do."

"I do not. They're different brands." She idly commented as she searched through the racks. Grabbing a few garments out, she placed them onto the ever-growing mountain of clothes in Jaha's arms. He scowled, peering around it.

"They look the same." He scoffed. "And besides, I thought you were only going to buy one shirt, not the entire store."

She moved her hair away from her shoulder as she smiled. "That's your own misunderstanding."

"You literally said—" Before he could finish speaking, [Y/N] had already walked off. Jaha blindly walked after her, stopping as he placed the mountain of clothes on the counter. He heard the woman speak to a worker, and the clothes were quickly counted before they were let into the changing rooms. 

They both got into one stall, and Jaha dumped the pile onto the floor.

"Where the fuck are you gonna start with all this?" Jaha kicked at a blouse, and [Y/N] picked it off the floor.

"With this."

His mind froze for a moment, and he turned his head to the side. "I'll wait outside." He felt the back of his neck getting hotter as he reached for the door handle of the stall, narrowly opening it.

The woman nodded as the man walked out. "Aight."

He stood outside the stall, glaring at a few people that walked by. He had no reason to, he simply felt upset with himself. Why? Well, he didn't know. Perhaps it was because he was about to pay for a mountain of garments that were way too overpriced or maybe it was because he felt too hot, or perhaps it may even be because he's been feeling hot ever since they stepped foot into that dick-waffle shop. The image of white chocolate staining [Y/N]'s lips and chin was ingrained deeply into his mind, and the moment they shared in the stall just earlier only made it more visible. He bit his lower lip, lost in thought. His pants were starting to feel just a little too tight as he tried to push [Y/N]'s face away from his mind.

Thankfully, the knock behind him took him out of his trance. He turned on his heel. "Yeah?"

[Y/N]'s voice came from the other side of the door. "Can you, uh, help?" She asked quietly, shyly almost.

Jaha kept quiet for a moment, taking in a deep breath. He almost thought that the trance he was in was better than whatever this situation was. His thoughts he could, at least, push away.

"With what?"

"Uh, this blouse... The strings are on the back of it, so I can't really, um, reach it." The longer she spoke the quieter her words got.

Jaha held in another breath as he slowly pushed the door open, stepping inside. He was greeted by [Y/N] facing away from him, staring at him through the mirror in front of them as she held the blouse up with her hands placed neatly on her chest. The strings on her back were untied, and with a controlled expression, he reached out his fingers to take hold of them. His fingertips brushed against her bare back and he felt chills run down his spine. She felt so soft, too soft. As he worked his hands on the strings, he moved a foot closer, and in doing so he tripped over the pile of clothes on the floor, stumbling forward and consequently pushing the woman against the mirror. His hands moved to catch himself, and he found himself trapping the woman between himself and the mirror. His chest was pressed firmly against her back as the blouse fluttered to the floor and her hands scrambled to cover her breasts.

He took in a sharp breath, her scent enveloping his senses as he felt her rear pressing against his crotch. "Shit, sorry, I—" As he spoke, he caught sight of her expression in the mirror. Her gaze was lowered and her lower lip trembled negligibly. Pink tinted her cheeks, the type of pink that brought Constance Spry roses to mind. The compliance on her face made his heart race, and he noted how she made no attempt to push him away, the way her body slightly turned to face him, eyes looking up at him with an almost hopeful expression.

"It's okay." Her voice was quaint as her eyes darted to his lips for a brief second before moving back up to meet his eyes. "You smell nice." She commented.

Leaning in closer, his voice came out almost as a whisper. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She breathed out softly. The air was thick with anticipation as they inched closer, their bodies magnetically drawn to one another. With a gentle touch, their hands intertwine, their fingers finding solace in each other's warmth. The kiss begins slowly, a delicate exploration of lips. They meet softly, barely a whisper, as they savour the initial contact. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching into eternity as their lips brushed against each other's, testing the waters of craving.

A delicate dance ensued as their mouths moved in harmony. Jaha tilted his head slightly so their lips would meld together more comfortably. Their tongues tentatively met, tracing the contours of each other's lips before diving deeper.

Their breaths became mingled, their hearts beating in syncopation as the kiss deepened. Lips pressed more firmly as Jaha pushed her back against the mirror. The woman let out a small noise of surprise that was quickly swallowed, and fingers threaded in her hair as Jaha's other hand went down to her waist. After moments he detached his lips from her mouth to move onto her neck.

[Y/N] gasped, feeling her shorts being pulled down. She grabbed Jaha's arm, and the other pulled away slightly to look at her.

"Jaha, what are you—" She panted, wiping the string of saliva from her lips. "We—We're in public."

Jaha went back to mouth at her neck, and [Y/N] let her head fall back against the mirror. She could feel the smirk on Jaha's face against her skin. "Guess you're gonna have to be quiet, then."

A wave of arousal crashed over her body as her shorts fell to the floor along with her underwear, and she stepped out of them before kicking them away. Jaha pulled back from her neck, shoving two fingers inside the woman's mouth.

"Lick." He said, and she did—swirling her tongue around them as they locked eyes. Jaha pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling them out, and [Y/N] gripped onto his shoulders.

"Are you gonna..." [Y/N] felt a hand on the underside of one of her thighs as it was hiked up, held firmly by Jaha. "You're gonna just fuck me here?"

"Yeah." He spoke breathily. He placed his wet fingers against [Y/N]'s clit, and the woman let out a gasp at the coldness. She studied Jaha's expression carefully, tightening her grip on his shoulders. Jaha shifted his eyes back to her face, moving his fingers against her clit as her nails dug into his shoulders. He couldn't describe the feeling in his gut, it was swimming in ardour. She was simply perfect.

"Fuck..." She felt her knees getting wobbly, and Jaha was quick to notice this. He hiked her leg up further, holding her in place as he continued his ministrations on her swollen clit. After a few moments, he moved his fingers down her folds, smearing them with her wetness.

He shot a glance over his shoulder to make sure the door was properly locked before locking eyes with her flushed expression.

"You okay, princess?" He smirked, his tone teasing as he worked to undo his pants, pulling them down just enough to reveal his boxers.

She glared at the name, digging her nails further into his shoulders. "Don't gross me out." Although she said that, she couldn't tell whether her ears were hot due to arousal or embarrassment. "But yes. I'm okay."

Her gaze lowered as she observed him struggle to pull down his boxers with one hand. She chuckled at the way he clicked his tongue. He was clearly getting impatient, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Reaching her hands towards the waistband of his boxers, her fingers brushed against his abdomen. Jaha stiffened slightly at her touch, a faint pink painting his cheeks.

Once the boxers were pulled down to his thighs, [Y/N] shifted her eyes away from his dick. She felt undeniably embarrassed.

Jaha moved her leg up further. "You sure this is okay?"

The woman smiled. "Yea—" Before she could properly get her words out, Jaha pushed inside. This man was far too impatient.

The woman scrambled at his back, face screwed up in pleasure and slight discomfort as Jaha didn't stop until he was fully in all the way. He held [Y/N]'s face with one hand, tilting it up so they made eye contact.

"Don't want people to hear." He said, pressing a hand firmly against the other's mouth. "Imagine what the public would say."

The idea of being caught made her legs shake as Jaha pulled out, slamming back inside with bruising force. The woman braced a hand against the mirror as her spine dug into it, and his eyes rolled back at a direct hit to the bumpy spot inside.

Jaha created a steady pace, fucking her further into the mirror as the grip on her upper thigh tightened. 

"I wish the others could see you right now." Jaha whispered, leaning closer to her ear as he bit at her skin. "So fucking pliant, ready to just be filled whenever."

The woman's mouth hung open under Jaha's hand, and she felt herself drooling onto it as she was pounded into the mirror behind her. She'd never had sex at this angle before, and the way Jaha's cock rubbed inside her with each thrust made her limbs tremble.

Jaha sensed that she was getting weak, so he hooked his hands under her thighs, picking her up, and holding her against the mirror as [Y/N] wrapped her legs around his waist. Once she did, he moved one hand back to her mouth. Continuing the pace, Jaha groaned softly as he felt himself growing closer to climax. She felt her body thrum with arousal as her fingertips tingled, and Jaha let out a low groan, thrusting deeper inside.

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door, and Jaha slowed his movements. [Y/N]'s head spun, and it took her a second to realise that someone was on the other side.

"Excuse me?" A worker's voice came, and Jaha turned his head slightly to the side. "Just wondering if you need any assistance? You've been in there for a while."

The woman saw a glint of something in Jaha's eye, and the hand against her mouth was removed. [Y/N]'s eyes widened slightly as Jaha thrust in again—this time slower—and it took everything in her not to moan out loud.

He locked eyes with the woman and tilted his head towards the door behind them. He wanted her to speak, and reassure the worker.

"I'm good." She gasped out as she felt Jaha continue to push inside. [Y/N] bit down on the back of her own hand hard enough to draw blood as she tried her best not to let any noises slip past her lips. "Just got a lot of clothes to try— try on... here."

He snapped his hips again, grip on [Y/N]'s legs tightening as he looked at her fucked-out expression with a smirk. Picking up the pace slightly, he watched as the woman hit her head back against the mirror, eyebrows furrowed as her mouth hung open. He was so very large and male, and excessively male creatures always took her over the edge.

"Let me know if you need anything." The worker at the door said, and there were the sounds of slight shuffling as their shadow disappeared. 

"You—" The woman started, and Jaha cut her off with another hard thrust. A string of moans fell from her lips as she came undone, and she scratched down Jaha's clothed back as he fucked her, watching as she became a broken mess under his touch.

Jaha let out a low whine near [Y/N]'s ear. "Can I..."

She nodded. With one last thrust, Jaha's eyes shut close as he came inside [Y/N]. His trembling hand worked on the woman's clit as he rode out his orgasm, trying his hardest not to let any lewd noises slip past his lips. It didn't take long for the woman to come undone under Jaha's touch. She felt her thighs tremble slightly, and Jaha held himself up against the wall. They caught their breaths, and he pulled out, gently setting [Y/N] back onto her feet.

She immediately wobbled, and Jaha caught her. His eyes trailed down, watching as his cum leaked down the inside of her legs.

"Shit." He clicked his tongue as he snapped out of his thoughts, grabbing the blouse that he was supposed to be helping her put on from the floor to wipe her clean with. The woman immediately gasped when she saw the cum stain the blouse.

"You're an idiot." She whispered, observing the way he cleaned her up. "They'll still have to scan it. Touch it, Jaha."

"Hey, I'm only using the edge of it." He tapped her inner thigh with the edge of the blouse to emphasize his justification.

She scrunched up her nose, fighting down a smile. "You're disgusting." Her words carried no real weight. She knew that because her heart was beating out of her chest at the way he was taking care of her.

Jaha laughed softly. "Listen, I'm working with what I have." He seemed outwardly happy, and this made the woman chuckle alongside him.

Once he was done and back on his feet, the woman pinched at his side. "That was a stupid fucking stunt you pulled when the worked came." Jaha pushed her hand away as she did this, smiling smugly. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy it?"

"Well..." Her cheeks tinted red as she began dressing up. "The stunt, no, but—"

"But the sex yes?"

She gave no response to that, except for placing the pile of the store's clothes into his hands. She smiled. "I might answer if you pay for all of this."

[justinewt]

We Survive Together - THE 100 REWRITE Chapter Twenty-Four

[THE 100 MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: After Jasper and Clarke showed up at the cave with an unconscious Raven, literally possessed by Alie. They desperately attempt to save their friend as she cruelly taunts them, manipulated by the AI. Bellamy is the target of one of her mockings and the name of Michelle is mentionned, of course, as well as the complicated status of their relationship.

Words: 7k

Warnings: The 100 season 3 spoilers (episode 11 "Nevermore"), title from a quote from Monty to Octavia in Nevermore, mention of su1c1de attempt, blood, dislocated bone, some fluff

Now that Pike had been turned in, the blockade around Arkadia could be lifted and the group returned to the cave where Sinclair and the rest of them was still waiting. As they walked back Monty had received a call from Jasper who had to flee the after Jaha took control of the camp with the keys, he was giving out to everyone and the promise of a life without pain and a ticket straight to the City of Light. The people there had turned into mindless zombies and that made Michelle lose all desire to accept the damn key. She would rather live with both mental and physical pain than lose her free will. At the cave, they tried to understand what it was all about.

“I don’t understand it, either. Something about those chips.” Monty was as puzzled as them regarding was happening in Arkadia. If it was really that unsafe, retrieving her jacket from Bellamy’s room would have to wait. She was still wearing her father’s and it wasn’t exactly her priority anyway. Arms crossed, she stood next to her peer and Sinclair.

“We’ll know soon enough. Be ready.” The latter concluded. Indeed, they had to wait for Jasper to get to them before deciding what they were going to do next. Near the fire, Octavia sprang up and started packing up her things in her little bag. Bellamy walked up to her, trying to make her slow down. He was understandably worried about her going out right now.

“You can’t just leave.”

“Watch me.”

“You heard what Jasper said on the radio.”

“What Jasper said sounds insane.” She argued, getting impatient and annoyed with all this discussion. “Pike’s gone. I can handle myself. Grounders burn their dead.”

“I know that. And then what? Where are you gonna go?”

“You don’t get to ask me that.”

“What more do I have to do to prove that I am on your side?”

“Bring Lincoln back.” He went silent and stared into the void as she walked past him. She turned around before exiting the cave. Michelle avoided looking directly at him, not wanting Octavia to drag her into their argument if she thought she was feeling bad for her brother, but Michelle saw from the corner of her eyes that he was hurting over this feud with his sister. “Turning Pike in does not make you one of the good guys, Bellamy. You did that to save me. Not because what you thought Pike was doing to the Grounders was wrong.”

“The Grounders were starving us out.” He frowned, turning around to face her. Michelle closed her eyes, sighing quietly. There was still some work to be done to get him to see Pike was never doing the right thing.

“Because you massacred an army that was sent to protect us.”

“That army could have attacked us at any time, and you know it.”

“But they didn’t attack. You did that. You were hurting, and you lashed out, because that’s what you do. There are consequences, Bel. People get hurt. People die. Your people. Monroe’s dead. Lincoln is dead.” She spoke in a calmer manner but any less strong and accusatory, looking her brother straight in the eyes. On those words, she left. Seeing Bellamy go after her, Michelle pondered whether to follow him out there, but she figured Octavia wouldn’t stop to have another conversation with him. Her step was determined, and she was set on leaving on her own. At the entrance to the cave, Nate, Bryan and Harper stood guard. Bellamy and Michelle barely took a few steps when the headlights of a car dazzled them. Jasper and Clarke had reached them. Even Octavia stopped in her tracks upon hearing the engine. When Clarke got off the vehicle and walked down the path to the cave, she stopped to stare at Bellamy and Michelle. She probably wondered why he looked so beat up. Jasper then came out shouting, asking for help. He was carrying an unconscious Raven in his arms.

“We have to get her inside before she wakes up!” Bellamy rushed to them, asking if they were followed but Jasper glanced around, having no idea. The latter gave him Raven while Nate sent his boyfriend to the ridge to tell them if he spotted anyone in the area. They all walked back inside the cave and as Octavia was about to go back on her way, Clarke called her to join them, and she came.

“Clear some space.” At Clarke’s request, Sinclair put some things away near the fire and Bellamy put her down.

“I told you on the radio, Raven is not Raven anymore.” Jasper repeated. “None of them are. Jaha’s been chipping everyone.”

“Jasper’s right. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Clarke added, confirming his statements.

“I don’t need your help, all right?” He suddenly got all worked up when Clarke spoke up, supporting his statements, pointing his finger at her. Michelle frowned in confusion before remembering that she was the one that caused Maya’s death at Mount Weather after she pulled that lever, letting all the air from the outside get in, with all the radiation that it involved.

“Just take it easy and explain.” Bellamy grabbed his shoulder, making Jasper look at him.

“Jaha is using the chips to control everyone. You swallow it and it changes you. You forget who you are, and then you see this thing, Alie. Only, she’s not really there. She made Raven slit her own wrists.” Michelle closed her eyes for a second, looking away upon hearing this, letting out a heavy but silent breath. She didn't want everyone to look at her because she got triggered. Instinctively, she brought her arms closer to her body, holding her hand. She herself had attempted to take her own life back when she was in solitary confinement. She literally had no memory of how it happened; she just had this scar for the rest of her life. Her brain had somehow blacked out the whole thing. Realizing Bellamy was looking at her, she let her arms fall to her sides and resumed her composure. She had never really told him about this and when they got intimate a few months ago, he never asked about it. “She was trying to get out of her head. I was trying to help her but—”

“Okay, so let’s help her now.” Sinclair stood up. “Did she say how?”

“She was working on building something. She needed one of her old wristbands, but Jaha destroyed all of them.”

“Wait a second.” Clarke chimed in, pulling out something from her pocket. She had a little rectangle in between her fingers, and it shared an odd resemblance to Jaha’s key. “Does it look like this?”

“Not exactly.” While he answered, Michelle noticed Raven roll her head and open her eyes, staring at the chip.

“Guys, she’s awake.” Right as Michelle warned them, Raven jumped on her feet with a grunt and tried to make a run for it, punching Michelle in the face when she got in her way, trying to stop her. She fell to the ground, bringing a hand to her face, wincing while the others ran after her. Sinclair helped her up and they joined the others outside. All holding Raven in place while she struggled like an enraged beast.

“If Raven finds out where we are, so will Allie.” Jasper said.

As she approached, Michelle wiped some blood from the corner of her lips. Raven let out a shout when Bellamy injected her in the neck with a leftover reaper stick. This was the last dose they had but it sent her back to sleep, giving them more time to figure something out. 

“We have to go.”

“Why? Alie doesn’t know where we are.” Bellamy asked, turning his head to Clarke.

“Because I know where we can get a wristband.” All eyes were on her. They quickly got into the car, with an unconscious Raven in the back with the others, and Sinclair and Monty in the front, and drove to the little trading post in the middle of the woods where Michelle, Bellamy, and Kane had encountered this Grounder when they were looking for Clarke a few weeks ago. The very woman they had met was standing in front of the post, a machete in her hand. In the dark of the car, with only the headlights at the front shining brightly ahead of them, Michelle, Clarke, and Bellamy looked out the windshield. “I’ll talk to her.”

“We’ll go with you.” Bellamy then said and the blonde nodded at them while they followed suit. Octavia kicked the backdoor open and let them hop out of the vehicle.

“I thought you said she was a friend.”

“We’ll handle it. Just stay here.” While she went back in the car, the trio walked down the path to the trading post and the woman recognized her, warning her that Skaikru wasn’t welcomed. Michelle wondered if she knew Clarke’s name as she referred to her as Wanheda still. Her behavior seemed to confuse Clarke just as much. “Niylah, what’s wrong?”

“She’s waking up. Hurry! Let’s get her inside.” They looked back as they heard Sinclair’s voice raise in urgency. They didn’t have much time to waste if they wanted to stay away from ALIE. If Raven saw her surroundings, she would find them and they would be in great danger, with not many other places to go hide. And they couldn’t hide forever either. Their only option was for this Niylah to let them in her home for the time being and they were off a bad start. They were playing big here. Sinclair was already carrying Raven outside. Clarke turned back to the grounder.

“Is your father here?” She enquired.

“My father’s dead.” Her face tensed up and she frowned. “Part of an army killed by your people while trying to protect you.”

“Niylah, please.” While she tried to beg her, Michelle glanced at Bellamy from the corner of her eyes. The flames of the torches outside the post reflecting in his eyes as he looked down in shame or guilt, or maybe both, over what he and Pike had done. She was happy to see him question and doubt his previous actions. If he could open his eyes to his mistakes, he could move forward and do better next time. Her thoughts were quickly pushed in a corner of her mind when after Niylah said no to Clarke’s request, he raised his gun towards her.

“We haven’t got time for this. Move.” He made her step aside and at first, Michelle wanted to step in and make him lower his weapon but seeing Clarke do nothing, she followed her example and stayed quiet while he urged Sinclair to get Raven inside. They put her in the backroom and Clarke got something to tie her up with. They walked through the trading post to the living space. It was dark and dimly lit, with only a few rays of moonlight peeking through the blinds.

“Tie her to the bed.” Clarke said as Sinclair lied her down. Raven had now woken up and she grunted, struggling against him. She wiggled, throwing her legs around, trying to kick them and free herself. She took off her blindfold and stopped moving, looking around her but unless she walked outside, she would never be able to tell ALIE where she was. And this was for the better.

“Where the hell am I?” She shouted, getting aggressive again so they hurried to tie her up. They were the 7 of them trying to hold her down and even then, they were somehow struggling because she was so fierce. Michelle was really disturbed by the rawness of her screams which turned into deep growls really, and it made her uneasy, but she tightens her grasp on her leg while they eventually managed to tie her up, but she still wasn’t calming down. She was dead set on getting out of there and telling their location to ALIE. She sounded and looked like she was possessed, and, in a way, she was. Once they were done, they left the room. Bellamy had stayed with Niylah near the entrance, holding her at gunpoint. Raven was being so loud, shouting at the top of her lungs, they could hear her as if they were in the bedroom with the rest of them. Even without being close to Raven, Michelle could hear her peer’s pain in the depths of her voice, behind all the mind control thing.

“How the hell do we get that thing out of her head?” Clarke wondered, frowning in concern.

“Working on it.” She nodded at Monty and stepped away along with Michelle, while they still heard Raven shouting, ordering them to untie her. The two best friends walked up to Niylah and Bellamy.

“I got this.” Letting go of his gun, the handle hanging across his shoulders, he awkwardly went from crossing his arms to putting a hand in Michelle’s back to invite her to step away with him, back to crossing his arms, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should be tactile with her. She had made it clear that even though she still cared for him, she didn’t know how to feel about him. She hated being torn over him. Her feelings for him were very much real and strong, and she wanted to forgive him, but after seeing how mad and upset Octavia was, she didn’t feel like she could forgive him just yet. She stared at him from the corner of her eyes as they walked away, closer to Sinclair and Monty but without actually joining the two of them, and they stood in silence, listening to bribes of Clarke’s conversation with Niylah, glancing at the two women every now and then. When Clarke came closer to the grounder, Michelle watched Bellamy approach a piece of furniture to hear them better.

“Trust you. After what Skaikru did?” She gritted her teeth.

“That wasn’t us.” This sparked confusion in Niylah’s eyes. “I’m sorry about your father. We all are.” As she spoke, she looked over her shoulder, peeking at Bellamy who looked away, uncomfortable. As time went on, he was becoming more aware of his mistakes, or so Michelle hoped.

“What do you want from me, Clarke?” Her tone was much more poised and less aggressive.

“Last time I was here, you had one of our wristbands. We need it now to save out friend.”

“And why should I help you?”

“Because I know you won’t let an innocent girl suffer.” And she had right here and there. Niylah glanced at Bellamy and Michelle, looking at her from behind Clarke. She told her to stay here and left through the front door to go get the wristband. Clarke turned around. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Bellamy was staring at the door as he nodded, unwilling to open about what he might be feeling at the moment. Clarke had noticed her best friend’s uneasiness since she stepped out of the bedroom. She was now arms crossed over her chest; she just gave her a nod in turn. These were some complicated times. A moment later, Niylah returned with the wristband they wanted. The group went to another room and Clarke put the object down on the table in front of them.

“Niylah said we can work in here. So how do we do this?” Monty picked it up to look at it from up closewhile Sinclair spoke. Bellamy and Michelle were both standing by Clarke, arms still crossed, quiet.

“We think Raven wanted to use this wristband to generate an EMP. Which is freakishly brilliant.” He scoffed, blown away by the young woman’s smartness.

“Meaning what?” At Bellamy’s enquiry, Clarke and Michelle looked over their shoulders for a second.

“A targeted electromagnetic pulse could destroy the chip’s circuitry. We could use this to send an EMP along Raven’s own nervous system. Just need to reverse the polarity, wire for external input, and attach a battery.”

“But what would that do to her?” Clarke asked.

“EMPs don’t affect our bodies. But I don’t know the mechanics of how this chip integrates with her brain.”

“This was Raven’s plan. She wouldn’t do it if it was gonna destroy her brain.” Bellamy noted, exchanging a glance with the two young women again. Octavia came into the room.

“Depends how bad she wanted it out.”

“Regardless, without an electromagnet, this is just talk.” Sinclair pursued.

“Where do we get one?” Michelle wondered.

“The Ark.” That was a bummer. From what Clarke and Jasper had told them at the cave, it was hell back there. “Every station had a pulsed inductive thruste for maneuvering.”

“Arkadia’s out of the question.” Bellamy stepped forward, voicing Michelle’s thoughts. “It’s too dangerous, you heard them.”

“We use the dropship.” Their eyes shifted to Monty. “It has PI thrusters like the Ark.”

“That’s good. Okay, I’ll go salvage the magnet.” Monty stopped him, urging Raven’s mentor to remain with the girl and try to figure how out how they were going to make this thing work. Octavia stepped in, offering to go with him and he agreed. Bellamy looked over at his sister but pursed his lips. When he parted them, about to say something, Octavia warned him not to and she departed from the trading post with their peer.

“Guys!” When they heard Jasper call out to them from the bedroom, all three of them came running. Raven was trying to reach for the knots of her restraint to undo them and the first thing Michelle saw was her dislocated shoulder but what made her take a step back while the others rushed to her side to stop her from hurting herself any further, was the blood dripping from her wrist, soaking her bandage. It immidietaly brought the girl back to the darkest moment of her life, back when she was still in solitary confinement, and she tried taking a deep breath. She had to look away and stumbled as her head started feeling light. She kept ignoring her friends when the urged her to stop fighting and in the midst of all her growling, still fiercely struggling against them, she glared at Michelle with a smirk, her jaw clenched and teeth showing, like an enraged animal. She didn’t have time to say anything to her, Michelle instantly walked out of the room, gathering all her strength to make it outside where she just leaned over a barrel, the flame of a torch crackling and twisting in the slight breeze. The forest around her was plunged in the dark. She couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of her, and she let her gaze wander into this immensity. The trees seemed to melt into one imposing mass, and it was frightening. Only then did she also realize that she had gone out unarmed, and if someone came now, she was screwed, but it didn't matter; she really needed some peace and fresh air. She turned back towards the building and dropped to the ground with a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. Her heart was racing, and her head had gone from being light to spinning but as she took control of her breathing, she managed to calm down. 

She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps nearby. Bellamy was standing right there, concern on his face. She could tell he was hesitating to approach her.

“What? Are you gonna stand there forever?” She taunted, quietly. Her face was impassive as she stared at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. He eventually sat down next to her, and they stayed there in silence for a hot minute. She wasn’t looking at him, but she felt his gaze on her, especially on the nervous movements of her hands. He lifted his hand and gently went to grab her wrist. Her hand froze, as right there under the sleeve of her jacket was her scar. There was doubt that made its way in her mind, unsure if she had already even just mentioned this episode to him. Clarke knew about all this, obviously, but with everything that had happened, she couldn't remember who else she had talked about it with. Very few people most likely.

“You okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” She released her wrist from his grip and only realized afterwards that her gesture had been curt. She didn't want to make him feel like she was pushing him away when he made the first step towards her. Letting out a sigh as she rubbed her hand, she tried to move the conversation away from her moment of weakness. “Are Jasper and Clarke still with Raven?”

“We’re taking turns watching her. Clarke’s in there with her right now.”

“She stopped trying to hurt herself?” The image of the latter’s wrists bleeding through her bandages flashed before her eyes and her eyelids twitched and she looked away, trying to keep it cool. He then explained to her what Alie was after. The Commander's chip that Clarke had.  But of course, if Raven died, Alie would never ever get it, so she stopped fighting them and let them help her. The whole situation was just so nerve-wracking and odd. Michelle would maybe take a turn watching her, if she didn’t try to open her wounds again because she wouldn’t be able to handle that sight again. She didn’t normally have a fear of blood, but it was because of the nature of the wounds from which the blood was dripping. It was the fact that it was bringing back this dark and painful memory. Eventually, Bellamy encouraged her to come back inside and, getting up, he gave her a hand, which she didn’t hold onto for very long once she was on her feet. She entered the trading post first. Inside, it was rather silent. It was a change from Raven's incessant screaming. Jasper was in a dark corner of the room, sulking. Michelle and Bellamy were leaning against a table when they heard Clarke shout in pain and the two bursted into the room. Raven had a trickle of blood running down her chin, staining her lips.

“You’re done, Alie, you hear me? We’re gonna fry you!” She yelled in her face, letting it all out and Bellamy wrapped his arm around her, dragging her out of there. This look in her eyes was haunting. She joined her friends in the main room and Michelle took it upon her to take care of Clarke’s bite wound. She didn’t have her medical knowledge, but it was basic care. She carefully wrapped a clean cloth around her forearm after cleaning it. Clarke’s voice was quiet but the shame that pierced through it was loud. “I let her get to me.”

“You don’t say. She got to me without even saying a word.” Clarke was looking at her, her eyebrows furrowed, perturbed, and worried, both for herself, and for Michelle as well. She had noticed that she seemed agitated earlier. The two of them could see through the other. It had always been like this between them. That was how close-knit they were since they were babies. Michelle was staring down at what she was doing, avoiding her friend’s gaze but she looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Bellamy’s.

“You two take a break. I’ll let her beat me up for a while.” Michelle let her eyes wander and cross his and he nodded to them before walking away. She stayed still, feeling Clarke staring at her.

“Please, don’t say anything.” She let out a chuckle, the corner of her lips rising despite herself. The blonde parted her lips, about to say something when Jasper’s bitterly interrupted her.

“Truth hurts, huh?” He was still mad, and understandably, over Maya’s death at Mount Weather and he blamed Clarke for it, because she triggered the opening of all doors to the facility, killing every mountain person inside. Michelle couldn’t say anything on this, she never knew his girlfriend beside talking to her over the radio when Bellamy was infiltrated in Mount Weather. And she couldn’t be mad at Clarke for causing the death of those people because, if she hadn’t done it, she would probably not have made it out of there, as the scientists were about to drill full force into her leg and other limbs until they had sucked all the marrowbone out of her.  

“I’m sorry.” She sounded distressed. “I never wanted to hurt Maya… I had to save our people.”

“I was going to save everyone.” He cried out, his voice shaking from the anger and grief. Michelle stayed where she was and watched.

“I wish you could’ve.”

“Shove your regret up your ass.” He was pursing his lips, containing his tears, and walked away, nudging her with his shoulder. Once he was gone, Michelle came closer to her friend, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Maya didn’t deserve to die, but… if you hadn’t done at the right time, they would have killed me, and every one of us, one after the other.”

“I couldn’t let them kill any of you, especially you, Michelle. You’re my sister.” She gave her a sad smile and they embraced each other. There it was the actual reunion of the two childhood best friends after months of being apart. This was the moment they needed together. They had always been each other’s ride or die, and would be until the end of time, or until death did them apart. They then went to see Sinclair as he worked on the device to help Raven, trying to comfort him in his task. The poor man only had the young mechanic left, and he was afraid to ruin her bright mind, but they had to believe it would work. They had to have some hope. The quiet was disrupted by Jasper shouting at Raven not to speak about Maya and a second later, they saw him walk out of the room after Bellamy encouraged him to do so. As Raven, or Alie, said; yes, they had all lost someone, but Jasper had been shattered by Maya’s death and had lost all hope. He wasn’t dealing with it well, but it wasn’t something to blame him for. Everyone handled grief and trauma differently, for Michelle, she had realized that she kept to herself a lot and repeatedly pushed people away to avoid facing her feelings. She had done it with her dad and Bellamy, and at some point, she had even lost the complicity she had with Clarke. And she was barely patching things up with Bellamy. Silent, she was thinking, lending an ear to Alie talking in the room next door, trying to get to Octavia’s brother as well.

“We’ve had our fun together.” Her taunting and enticing tone bothered Michelle, or maybe was it that she insinuated that they had slept together in the past. She didn’t like feeling jealousy over something that wasn’t really meant by Raven. She would never bring it up. This only reinforced in her mind the fact that she genuinely wanted to get back what she once shared with Bellamy.

“We don’t have to talk about it. Usually not much to talk about, anyway. But I do have one question. Does it bother you that you don’t get any credit for the genocide at Mount Weather? Clarke gets to be the Commander of Death, but you murdered all these people, too, and you’re just forgotten. Then again… You didn’t get any credit for the culling on the Ark, either. How many people suffocated when you threw away my radio? You know, at least Clarke was saving her own people. You were just saving your own ass. Of course, that’s nothing… compared to killing your own mom. You just had to take little sister to her first dance. You might as well have just shoved Aurora out of the airlock yourself. Do you think she would be proud of you now? For the kind of leader, you’ve become? Or would she see the truth like the rest of us do? That you’re a follower. Clarke’s been back for one day and you’re already taking orders. A good, little knight by his queen’s side. Sure, it’s not just you… There’s Michelle, the good, little soldier. Clarke’s one true follower.” Clarke and Michelle exchanged a glance, listening in silence. She wasn’t bothered by the way she was being talked about. She had always been very much aware of her role by Clarke’s side, that she would follow her through hell and back. She was a thinker and in her mom’s fashion, a strategical one. She didn’t want a decision-making role to befall her. It was up to Clarke.

“Too bad you were never as devoted to Gina as you were to Clarke, or Michelle. Ah, the soldier… Does the little knight like the good soldier?? Too bad she was still not over Murphy. You were too late to the party. She didn’t want you anymore. The only man she needed was her dear daddy.” Michelle’s heart sank as she kept talking about her to Bellamy, calling both of them out for the way their relationship had turned out until now. But she wasn’t exactly right. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him anymore. What she got right was that at the time, her romance with Murphy was still too fresh and she wasn’t over him yet when she started something with Bellamy.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bellamy said in a whisper.

“Don’t worry about Gina, she was already dead when Mount Weather blew up.” She rose the tone of her voice, talking loudly through the small property. “And you avenged her, right? I mean, you picked up a gun and slaughtered an army that was sent to protect us. That had nothing to do with blowing sweet Gina to bits or getting rejected by dear Michelle.” As she kept rambling, Michelle, Clarke, and Jasper saw Niylah suddenly stand up and speewalk towards the bedroom. The three of them ran after her. They came in the moment Niylah slapped Bellamy across the face. Clarke called out to her.

“Niylah. You can’t be in here.”

“It’s too late.” Jasper chimed in. “Raven’s already seen her. Alie knows we’re here.”

Michelle watched Bellamy storm out. She didn’t go with him right away and let Niylah follow him outside. From behind the door, she heard him grunt and kick one of the barrels. When he apologised for what he had participated in doing, she wasn’t phased by his excuses, but she didn’t burst out in anger. Michelle was looking through the doorway, and a faint light shone on his face. In a way, even though Niylah didn't care about his excuses, she appreciated seeing the guilt in his eyes. It means Pike's influence was gone this time, and she could help him get back on the right path. Before he could say anything else to try and help his case, they heard engines in the background, and she saw the headlights from the rover as Monty and Octavia came back. Michelle walked out with Jasper while Niylah went back inside.

“What happened?” Bellamy enquired after Monty walked straight to the trading post without stopping or looking at either of them. He was preoccupied by something. In fact, Alie was now aware of where they were, but she somehow had learned about their night trip to the dropship and there, Monty had to kill his own mother to save Octavia’s life. They all rushed inside. It was time to free Raven from Alie. Gathered around the bed, Sinclair put down his machine, giving out the instructions. As they connected her to it, she began moving her arms around, grunting. They struggled to hold her still. Michelle jumped when Raven began to violently hit her head to the metal headboard. She turned her back to her. As Bellamy then stated, their friend was once again trying to kill herself.

“Stop it! Stop. And I’ll give you this.” Clarke pulled out the small box containing the Commander’s chip. It was just enough to get her to stop fighting and Bellamy snatched the box, and they resumed connecting her to the device made by Sinclair while Raven yelled at her for lying. She tried begging them not to do it, claiming the EMP would greatly damage her brain, but they had to do it. It was their last resort to free her from Alie, whether it worked or not. They didn’t have much of a choice. Michelle watched the scene, standing still next to Clarke. Monty then activated the machine, but nothing happened.

“What’s happening?” Jasper enquired.

“Nothing. We need more power.” Sinclair declared. “The battery’s not strong enough.”

“Well, then get one that is.” Clarke asked, pressed. Michelle was frowning, kind of looking away, thinking until she got an idea, and it seemed like Monty thought of the same thing. They spoke simultaneously.

“The Rover.” Raven grunted louder and Bellamy urged Sinclair to hold the young woman as she tried to hit her head against the headboard again. Monty and Bellamy ran outside to get the car’s battery. Everyone got startled when they heard a shot ring outside and they all looked towards the door, wondering what was going on.

“Guys, we have to move!” Bellamy pushed for them to be quicker, and Sinclair proceeded to connect the machines to Raven with a bunch of cables. He then pressed the button again and the young mechanic screamed at the top of her lungs before her body suddenly relaxed and she stopped moving. They looked at each other in worry and Clarke put two fingers up to a neck to check for her pulse.

“She’s breathing.” She concluded, relieved. They tried to call out to her and wake her up, but the girl remained unconscious, quickly replacing their relief with a new wave of worry. Michelle had her arms crossed, kind of wrapped around her torso as she watched, concerned. It didn't matter if she wasn't friends with Raven, she was still hoping the latter would turn out okay. They didn’t have much time to get out of there until Alie’s zombie army would get to them now that they knew where the group had found refuge but at least, Raven was out of the woods. It was a bummer that the only thing surrounding them right now were just that, woods. And they weren’t out of it just yet.

A few minutes later, Clarke and Octavia were leaning over Raven, desperately trying to wake her up, while Jasper nonchalantly paced back and forth around the room, and Michelle was leaning against the wall, right in front of Bellamy. He knew full well that she had heard what Alie had said to him a moment before; the latter had spoken loudly on purpose, and neither he nor the pseudo-soldier dared look each other straight in the eyes, glancing sideways when the other was looking elsewhere. Michelle sighed silently, tightening her grip on her arm, still with her arms crossed. She hoped the two of them would have a moment to talk about whatever was going on between them. Maybe she should have taken the lead and taken a step towards him too when he came to see her outside. Instead, she once again kept her feelings and thoughts to herself and changed the subject. She hated that she kept doing it. Her eyes wandered and followed Jasper as he walked around the bed. She frowned slightly, wondering what he was doing as he came behind Clarke and snatched the box with the chip, along with a metal bar. This made Michelle straighten up, letting her arms fall to her sides.

“What are you doing?” Clarke spun around. Jace put down the chip on a table, ready to smash it. She took a step towards him, distressed and she tried to take it away from him. “No, you can’t. Give it back.”

“Alie did that to Raven. She’s never gonna get this!” He yelled, raising the bar above his head.

“Don’t! It’s Lexa.” She cried out, her face twisting with sadness. Everyone stood there, looking at her, not getting her meaning. “Part of her is still in there. I saw them cut it out of her head. I’m not…”

“What is it?” Bellamy queried after Clarke stopped talking.

“Both of the AIs were made by the same person. Both tap into human consciousness. They must work similarly, right?” She asked, turning to Sinclair.

“Well, there’s probably only one pathway to consciousness, so it’s possible, yeah.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Octavia shook her head, not understanding. Clarke walked back to Raven’s side.

“I’ve seen an AI removed before. Help me get her on her side.” Bellamy approached, helping them move Raven. Clarke asked for the medkit in her bag and Michelle went to get it for her while she pushed Raven’s hair away from her neck. She went through her medical tools and pulled out a small scalpel, making a small cut at the nape of her neck. The trickle of blood becoming thicker as blood dripped from the cut. She put a cloth underneath. A second later, something started flowing out and Michelle frowned.

“What is that?” She asked, taking the words out of Bellamy's mouth.

“It must be whatever’s left of the chip.” Sinclair said. Once it was out, Raven coughed, coming back to her senses. She winced at the pain caused by the open wound. They helped her up.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see someone in pain.” Octavia laughed. All was well, for now. Michelle saw Jasper give back the chip to Clarke, mumbling something to her and stepping away.

“I could have saved my mother.” Michelle turned to Monty who was staring into the void. She was reminded how he had had to kill his own mother to save Octavia’s life and she felt for him. She didn’t kill her mother but someone else did and that thought that she could have saved her if she hadn’t been sent to the ground, it had been haunting her ever since that one Unity Day where she had refused to talk to her mother when she had the chance. It was already too late when she felt like it, her mother was already dead in the bombing on the Ark. But Michelle blamed herself for getting arrested. If only she had known, she would have stuck by her mom’s side and, even if she couldn’t save her, she would have been able to say goodbye and be by her side as she was dying. Instead, she only learned of her death when Kane and Abby landed in that lake. She remembered how she was so overwhelmed by anger and grief, she had lashed out on Kane, blaming him for what happened. But now she could admit to herself that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, though she still felt like she somehow caused it. She was taken out of her contemplation when Monty rose his voice at Jasper, telling him to get away from him before storming out of the room.

“Alie knows we’re here. We gotta move.” Bellamy spoke, with a serious tone, very fitting given the situation. While Sinclair took care of carrying Raven, they followed Bellamy outside the trading post. The others went straight to the car and Michelle and Bellamy stood in the open. None of them really knew what to say in the moment but Michelle eventually turned to him, and they looked at each other. The tension was palpable. They both wanted to take a step towards the other, but it was as if there was an invisible force that froze them in place. She was the first one to make a move, grabbing his bandaged hand after he got hurt. He watched her do so, wrapping his fingers around her hand, both strongly and gently. This gesture makes her step closer, but she didn’t look up at him. Clarke was still inside, and they would only set off in a couple of minutes, so she took the opportunity to open up a bit.

“She was right. I mean, when Alie said that I wasn’t over Murphy. But it’s… it’s not that I didn’t want you.” She said in a sigh, as it was somehow incredibly hard to say outloud. “I’m sorry. It’s gonna take a while to patch things up, but I want you to know I don’t hate you. I can’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry too.” He spoke in a soft voice as she proceeded to take off the bandage. It wasn’t as bad of a wound as when Michelle almost got her hand sliced in half. He would be fine. That was the moment Clarke decided to show up. Michelle took a step back, letting go of Bellamy’s hand when she heard their friend. The later glanced at the wound.

“You’ll recover.”

“Will I? What do you do when you realize… you might not be the good guy?” A silence fell upon them for a moment until Clarke spoke up.

“Maybe there are no good guys.” They looked at each other. Maybe she was right. Maybe there were no good guys. Maybe they were all the villain in someone else’s story. The world wasn’t all black and white. The grey areas were the toughest ones to navigate. Clarke gazed at her best friend and Bellamy, with a sparkle in her eyes. She knew something was up and seeing Michelle literally hold his hand was a dead give away.

The Rover was maneuvered back into the direction of departure on the path and Sinclair and Octavia helped Raven into the car. The trio approached them.

“Why did Alie want you to kill yourself?” Clarke enquired.

“Because I know why she wants a second AI.”

“Why?” Her eyes shifted to Bellamy.

“It’s the only thing that can stop her.”

“Then let’s stop her.” Octavia declared. “We survive together.”

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Published (02/02/2023) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64 @mirellef2001

[spirit-elementmaster]

Kaijudo Headcannons: Recruitment of Masters

Okay it's kinda implied in the show that Kaijudo is either passed down in the family like with Ken and Isao or you are spotted with great potential by a member in the Order like with Ray, Allie and Gabe

Either way you are tested by the Order in how to handle mana and how quickly you can pick it up in one day, if not you're memory is erased.

Here are my takes on how I think the Masters got recruited:

Hector

For Hector I feel like he got recruited from his family

For this reason it's because I believe working with Fire Creatures takes a long time especially with how uncontrollable and are very destructive they are in nature

I feel like Fire Specialist are mostly those who were trained by family members who learn how to fight with such fiery creatures and have a passed down teachings and certain practices

It's also implied in the show there can be certain side effects when training in certain civilizations, shown with Allie when letting darkness taking over

When working with Fire Civilization you must have a literal spark in order to train with Fire Creatures specifically

However that spark can take over and become in it's essence rage and a destructive force

Hector learned from family how to control and be more tame when working with Fire Civilization

I think that's why his character is so calm and tame because he had to learn to control the fire within when he was an acolyte himself

When it comes to families who train in Fire, most often than not all children are expected to train and learn the teachings

I'll get into it in another post, but when it comes to some families, especially those held at a high standard because of their long history with the Order they are most likely grew up with Kaijudo their whole lives as children

Hector's family was one of the few that had such a high standard that he grew up with Kaijudo his whole life and expected to carry on a certain legacy of his family

Nadia

Nadia was spotted by a Water Specialist

I feel like when those from the Order spot outsiders to join they usually will spot characteristics with civilizations

So with Nadia she was mostly likely spotted for her keen desire to keep expanding her knowledge, her control over her emotions and ability to be flexible

It's not just characteristics associated with civilizations though, it's also showing bravery and being able to face the unknown especially when it comes with dealing with dangerous creatures

With Nadia she was spotted off the streets and used her smarts to get herself around

But she also expressed a level of justice and most likely got spotted when she was defending someone

Kimora

He was also spotted

With nature, you have to express commitment and loyalty

It's like when you take care of plants, they take time and patience to keep them alive and require compassion and a sense of duty

However Kimora was initially spotted by showing characteristics of bravery and loyalty

It wasn't until after he was officially joined the Order that he began showing his strong alignment with nature

I feel with nature as well you have to show a sense of community, a lot of Nature Creatures seen in the show are most often than not with a group, like with the Quillspikes or Bronze-Arm Tribe

As a acolyte, he trained a lot in groups, helped those around him and thrived in being with others

It wasn't until Kimora showed more of these characteristics that he was more committed to a Nature Civilization training

Jaha

She was definitely recruited by family

Like Fire, it's another civilization to master, you can easily give into the darkness and become corrupt

Those who train in Darkness Civilization have to be guided by specialists and learn how to not let it take over

However not just anyone in the family can be trained compared to families who train in Fire

Children of families that train in Darkness are hand selected and picked from the very best

The Darkness can easily manipulate you and families themselves will often do their own tests to their children to see if they can handle it

With Jaha, she absolutely had to prove to her family she can handle it, showing how cunning and resourceful she is

Just like Hector, Jaha also has a legacy to carry on from her family

It's why Jaha takes up Allie as her protege, teaching her the ways of how her family taught her since Jaha wants to pass down what her own family was taught

Nigel

It can really go either or for me

Spotted or from a family

But because he's absolutely never strays from the rules, I feel like he does come from a family that comes from some sort of line of Light

Not a very high standard one like Jaha or Hector, but definitely a more recent and small family

Nigel was held up at a standard from a very young age

He was taught from day one to follow the rules and can never stray

From trauma of being taught these strict ways and forced into the role it's why Nigel betrayed the Order as well

He can't bring himself to go against what he was taught his whole life because it's so foreign and most likely frightens him if he strays

Nigel also holds himself at a high standard and even though he cut ties with his family, he still can't help think about the disappointment and guilt if he strays from the rules

So yeah here are some Kaijudo Headcannons and how I think the Masters were recruited, let me know what you think!

[lamentingocean]

Pov:

Jaha came home before you after burning down the pavilion arena and dealt with knife duels, gambling, and finances of the battle pavilion.

you opened the gold doors to expose the fancy attire of the black rabbit clan. the emptiness of the room suffocated your mind and hearing.

the beautiful hanfu fluttered upon the ground as you walked to find jaha around here, since you can smell the scent of blood.

your hands drastically opened the doors to your formal bedroom, and you saw jaha wiping the blood off his face.

Your face scrunched to a happy but depressed look.

Jaha put down the face-towel scraped with the blood of the fighters in battle pavilion and dried his face.

you walked to him slowly making no noise.

That ability of making no sound, no matter what kind of shoes you wear, makes you the most dangerous. That's what jaha described to his beloved, despite your scent consistently withering flowers, sugar, and blossoms. He still told you to lay low on the expensive perfumes you bought after fighting in the arena yourself, enemies will attract and smell their opponent in the battlefield if they analyze long enough closer to their space.

your footsteps are the acts of blossoms,

Quiet and graceful, falling slower, making no sound to just wither in the ocean sky with clouds that can be related to cotton candy.

jaha's red eyes looked back at you. a dimension of blood was shown through it. You were startled mainly because of his unexpected reaction, but his knowledge of your presence and scent being around here is noticeable.

"I knew you were here. And I knew you were going to sneak up on me and touch my hair. Don't play me."

your hands twitched, it desiring to WANT to touch his beautiful black hair.

"What are you doing standing here?"

he turned his body to face you, but as soon as he did. He was attacked by a hug consisting of love and a missing you vibe. your head burrowed his chest, missing his boobs too.

" Y/N?"

you didn't say anything but snuggled into his boobs.

"Heh. if you want a hug, then you could have said so."

"MMFNN♡"

He chuckled at your groan of tired and demise and took you to his bedroom.

you gave him a kiss on the lips before you passed out into the comfy bed of someone that soaks themselves in blood. (It probably stinks)

he looks at you with a genuine smile and touches your cheek before leaving the room.

"You did well. Y/N. I'm proud to say my wife is hard-working than any of my disciples and army. and I'm proud of her for that♡"

(THIS PICTURE GAVE ME THIS IDEA OK?

IM NOT OK. IM SO OBSESSED)

[protectmypeople]

The air was crisp, clean, a lungful was enough to remind him of where he stood. Earth. Their original home, the point of origin. It was far more serene, and complex than he could have previously imagined. Sneaking unto the dropship had been worth the sacrifice he had to undergo. No one knew. Did they? Clarke was suspicious of him. Bellamy was the only actual adult to have survived the landing, here he stood, surrounded by a multitude of delinquents, himself included. Except these ones were all freshly eighteen, and were experiencing the luxury of freedom for possibly the first time. Two days since the dropship had landed, everyone setting up tents, exploring the forest, and each other. It was a mess. A sense of responsibility was being crafted into his chest, yet he had little to no desire to act on it. ‘Whatever the hell we want’ was a good enough tagline to allow him some peace of mind, and frustrate a few of the delinquents currently building shelters.

Bellamy departed the camp, preferring to spend some time away from prying, watchful eyes. The sounds were almost constant, he hadn’t known the Earth could be this loud. The Ark had the continuous hum of the engines, accompanied by the constant metallic vibration beneath his feet. Here. It stilled, birds, rustling, the wind, it all made sound. It solidified his choice, shooting Chancellor Jaha was a small price to pay to be on the ground, as well as with his sister. Who no doubt was actively getting into trouble. The sound of water flowing drew his attention, climbing over a few rocks he spotted a lone individual, kneeling by the slow creek. Bellamy’s attention perked, not exactly familiar with everyone he crept downward. As silently as he could. Once a few feet away, he found his curiosity getting the better of him, taking a moment to observe the individual. Dark, curly, long hair, pale skin in direct contrast to his own. With the strangers back to him, a sly grin spread across his freckled cheeks. “Boo!” Hands coming down harshly on the others shoulders, followed by a light chuckle leaving his chest. “Did I scare you?”

@hawkinshellraiser

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 1: Some Old Meta Notes

I was feeling pretty poorly earlier after coming home from the grocery store with way too may groceries, just really tired and achy. I've eaten dinner now and feel better. Maybe still a little... overall sore in a stressed-out way but way better than earlier. Hope to get some good sleep tonight because I need it.

Here are some notes I wrote a while ago, planning the Poly Fic, that are basically just like... some meta lol.

*

Canon Clarke [...] has expectations. She comes from a place of relative stability, which gives her that ‘I know best and I know I know best’ confidence. She doesn’t represent the status quo as much as Wells because she will break rules if she thinks doing so is morally right or otherwise necessary. She cares more about being effective than being nice, though she does have, increasingly, the ability to ‘handle’ people, to encourage or soothe them as necessary to meet her ends.

None of which really has anything to do with polyamory.

Clarke is so good at doing what she needs to do that it is hard, I think, to trust what is real and what is manipulation or strategy. I think she’s probably being genuine often, but if I were close to her, I’d find it hard to trust that the concern, or love, or openness is real. That it exists for its own sake. I don’t think Clarke sees using (real) emotions or opinions as means to an end as incompatible—the feelings can be real AND their expression a useful tool, simultaneously. And she will prioritize other things, like a mission or goal, or her sense of responsibility or even her sense of guilt, over other people/emotions/relationships. She thinks big picture, about what is an objectively right outcome, not about what individuals might want, need, desire, or expect. She left Camp Jaha because she was ‘bearing her people’s sins,’ scapegoating herself (literally) and trusting her people would be fine with Bellamy. Is this what any of them wants? Is this fair to Bell? Is it what he can expect from their relationship? Is this something that will actually help people like Jasper, Monty, Raven, or any of the delinquents heal? No. But it fits a certain narrative in her head. That narrative puts her in a sort of martyr position—maybe she leaves for HER, because SHE needs not to ‘see their faces,’ but in the narrative, she is selfless. That’s my reading anyway.

I guess the point of this is… she would struggle in a relationship because she’d want to fix any issues that arose. We should just break up—you’re better off without me, for example. She understands what’s wrong, what she needs to do. A control freak attitude (#relatable lol). Paradoxically, I say from experience, a no-labels, outside-the-box relationship can appear freeing, at least in theory. It’s hard to explain. It’s like the fantasy of letting go of the expectations you yourself feel as a burden, as if, with them gone, you will be a different, freer person. As if that as the direction personal growth moved in.

[strawbaeries]

w. jaha.

[bubblywords]

Heat Stroke

(A/N): This is based on a dream I had! I realized while writing this that it isn’t inclusive to plus sized persons, so I wanted to apologize! I will be sure to write something more plus size friendly in the future.

Warnings: Jaha is a jerk?

Word Count: 718

Pairing: John Murphy x Reader

Summary: On the path to the City of Light, the sun becomes unbearable.

                                              (Gif/Pic isn’t mine!!)

You’d been walking for days. Hours? Time in the desert didn't make sense. It was too hot and too bright -- there was nothing in every direction but sand. Sand sucked. A lot. 

Following Murphy was a no brainer. As crazy as he was, you knew you’d follow him anywhere. Even if he was determined to follow Jaha out to the middle of this godforsaken desert, you’d follow him.

Oh, but it was so hot. The water ran out yesterday, and your tongue was heavy as stones. John walked ahead of you, eyes on Jaha. He needed something to believe in, and right now it was the man with the stick.

Your vision swam, drenched in sweat, and all at once you were going down. Your knees hit the sand -- there was so much sand -- and for a moment you were at rest. Maybe you could just rest here for a bit. You could catch up, right? Or maybe you could just wait here, they would come back for you.

Of course they wouldn’t leave you. No sooner had you fallen to your knees, your pack falling from your shoulder, and Murphy was at your side.

“(Y/n)? Love, can you hear me?” And you could, but he sounded so far away. Still, he needed to know you heard him. Nodding, your body slumped against his. He caught you, and he was firm against your side. John held you, and that security roused you from the pool of unconsciousness you were drowning in.

“‘s too hot” You insisted, a dry and heavy tongue causing your words to slur and twist. 

“I know,” He barks out a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor there. “It's a desert.”

“‘r we almos’ there yet?”

“I don’t know (Y/n)... Jaha,” Now he was speaking to your fearless leader.

Cracking your eyes open was difficult enough, in the minute or so they were closed they’d been glued shut by sand. One day, Murphy and you were going to live in a place where there's no sand. At all, it’ll be illegal.

The sun was intense and abrasive, but you made out that your remaining companions were huddled around you. Jaha, the man best imitating the biblical figure Moses, was already on the next dune, looking at the group expectantly.

“We need a break.” It wasn’t a question or request. All of you had been walking for hours, you’d just been the unlucky one to fall first. 

“Nonsense, it isn’t dark yet” As if you weren’t curled into your boyfriend's side, miserable and useless. You knew that once you were hydrated and of your right mind, he’d tease you for this. His damsel in distress.

“Dumbass, we can’t get to your City of Light if we’re all dead!” You weren’t surprised with how pragmatic he was being. You really did feel like death, though he didn’t need to know that.

Mustering what little strength you had, you sat up. “I-I’m fine. I can make it” You were trying to sound convincing... Maybe if you pretend you werent slurring your words or seeing double, everyone else would believe you were fine.

Jaha took this as fact and nodded. “See, they’re fine. Come, we have more ground to cover.” With that, he disappeared over the dune.

Murphy spat curses as the others walked past him and towards the dune. He might also be determined to press on, but you were clearly in no position. And your well being trumped his desires.

“Go, you needa go with Jaha” You pressed, attempting to push him away. 

“Shut up” He mumbled, before scooping you up. He held you bridal style, taking a moment to adjust and shift you in his arms, before pressing on. 

“There’s no way I’d ever even think of leaving you, don’t fucking forget that.” His words are steel, his intent ironclad. His eyes are on the horizon, and all you can do is stare at him. After a moment, he kisses your forehead.

Safe and secure in your lovers arms, you knew you would be okay. Murphy would always be there, and so would you. Even after all this time, you still weren’t used to having a partner you could rely on like this. It was nice, and you let yourself drift off into unconsciousness.

[inmyownlaine]

Hi,love your writing and was wondering if I could request a John Murphy fluff/angst based on season 2or3 where the reader and him get in an argument about him ‘being with Emori’ but he likes the reader?

John Murphy x Reader: Promises

*Absolutely! Thank you for the suggestion. Also, let's just act like I haven't been MIA for literal months :)

GIF//

Warnings: None to my knowledge!

Word Count: 2078

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“Don’t go,” you begged, grabbing Murphy’s hand as it swung carelessly behind him. When your fingers touched his skin, Murphy stopped immediately. He inhaled heavily through his nose, trying to control the sadness and desire that you sent rippling through his body.

“Murphy, please,” you whimpered.

Murphy’s shoulder dropped as he let the single strap of his backpack slide down his arm. Your eyes lit up, hoping that was a positive sign. Hoping that you were enough to make him stay.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” you said assertively. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he replied, apologetic eyes looking at you between half-closed eyelids. He was right. You didn’t understand. He had nothing to apologize for. He didn’t have to prove himself to you. Or ask for your forgiveness. None of the things that his blue eyes seemed to convey.

“You don’t need redemption.”

“But if I go now, maybe when I come back-”

“What?” you interrupted. “Everything will suddenly be different?”

“Is it so wrong to want that?” he questioned softly, a shaky sigh leaving his body. You tightened your grip, white knuckles against red calloused ones. Just another casualty of his bad temper.

“Of course not. But you’re not going to fix anything by leaving. You need to stay. Stay and show them who you can be. Don’t leave and prove them right.”

Murphy dropped his head, fixated on your two hands intertwined. There was a lot more going on than the surface discussion. You danced around being in love by using double meanings and knowing glances. This wasn’t about him leaving to find himself. It was about him leaving you.

Glassy eyes meet together in a flurry of uncertainty and passion. The pit of your stomach churned as Murphy leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. They barely touched before he pulled away, eyes closed. It was a kiss that you never wanted to experience, especially being your first.

You knew he was leaving.

“Don’t cry,” he told you, hearing a sniffle escape. His eyes still rested, he quietly spoke, “I will be back. I promise. I have something to come back to.”

“Murphy, I-”

“I promise.” He now faced the reality of the situation, confronting his fears head on as he stared into your bloodshot eyes. There was no way he would ever be the cause of this again. He just needed one chance to make you proud. To clear his name.

“I promise.”

────────────────────────────────────────────

The taste of dirt and sweat caused you to gag as you were manhandled into the unknown. You had no idea why you were the target of a kidnapping. If anything, you laid low and kept to yourself. Regardless, you followed the directions given to you, fearing what would become of your life if you didn’t.

“I’ve brought you some company!” the voice behind you bellowed. You jumped at the sudden noise, interested in the way he practically sang the announcement.

“Who?” another voice asked, seeming alert and slightly panicked. You knew this voice anywhere and it quickly became clear why you were here. Even still, you obeyed the commands given. If you spoke a word, made any noise, it would be the end of your life.

“Worried, are we?” The man started to laugh heartily as you continued to walk. Every thundering step matched the beating of your heart. What would happen when you finally stopped?

There was no response, so the man began to speak. “Someone who wouldn’t shut up about you. Scared for you. Desperate to see you.”

As if being captured weren’t enough, this was just plain humiliating. He didn’t have to recount all the times you pined after Murphy while he was gone. You lost track of the months it had been since you last saw him. This was not how you wanted to reunite.

“Who. Is. It?” Murphy asked yet again. It was dark and menacing. A resemblance of a person that he used to be. You knew that would always be a part of him. Especially when it involved people that he cared about.

“A girlfriend?” the man guessed. You cringed hearing that word, tormenting and taunting you of what never was. But how Murphy replied was even more heartbreaking.

“Emori?” The man began to cackle once more as Murphy cursed and threatened his life. It was terrible to hear the intensity of his love. How much he cared for someone else while you turned others down, waiting for him.

The man gave you one last shove, causing you to fall to your knees. Through minute gaps in the woven sack over your head, you finally caught an amber hue of light. You groaned in pain, trying your best to stay upright with your hands tied behind your back.

There was a brief moment of silence before another outburst broke out. This time, you heard the scuffling of feet against the floor. Fabric harshly rubbed against a scratchy surface. It sounded like an attempt to escape.

“Let her go!” Murphy yelled.

“Why would I do that? I have everything I need, now. Except for the information.”

“Just let her go and I’ll tell you, okay? I’ll tell you everything,” Murphy frantically said.

“But I’m having so much fun. Maybe just one...little…” A cold blade touched your neck, causing a shriek to escape your throat. He put an ounce of pressure against your rapidly thumping artery.

“I swear to God if you hurt her I will kill you!” Murphy’s voice was full of anguish as it broke here and there. It was a frequency in which you had never heard from him. It was harrowing to witness.

The knife was removed from your neck. In a series of exchanges, Murphy gave him the answer to every single question he asked. When the interrogation was over, you were picked up and moved to a new area. Here, you were tied once more around my stomach.

Then, without warning, the bag was removed from your head. You could barely take in my surroundings before Murphy called your name. Tears fell from your eyes as you saw, for the first time in months, John Murphy. Though you had to admit, he looked worse for wear.

“Murphy,” you cried back, wanting more than anything to be able to touch him. To hug him. To take in his scent. You had been without this man for way too long.

“That’s sweet,” the man, who you could now identify as Titus, interrupted. “But I’ve got what I wanted. For now.” And with that, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving you and Murphy alone.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Murphy asked immediately.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “But you don’t look good at all.”

“Yeah, well, being tortured does that to a person.”

“He tortured you?” you questioned, breath leaving your body. Picturing someone hurting Murphy made you sick.

“A few times,” he shrugged.

You wanted to be happy. You wanted to ask him about his trip. You wanted to know if he discovered himself. If he found who he truly was. But you couldn’t get past the fact that he said another girl’s name.

You never claimed to be anything more than friends, but you thought it went without saying. A person doesn’t just kiss someone before they leave. Or promise that they would come back to you.

“I hate that I have to see you like this,” Murphy finally said, breaking the silence. “I always imagined coming back to camp with Jaha’s group. We just saved the human race, or something like that. But it didn’t matter, because I was looking for you.”

“Not Emori?” you mumbled, mustering up the courage to be so bold. Murphy’s eyes grew wide as he avoided your haunting gaze.

“Look, it wasn’t supposed to- she just- we were,” he tried to explain, slumping over in the process.

“I waited for you. Every day,” you admitted. “The last thing I did before I went to bed was look out the gate for you. Every morning I woke up with the hope that it would be the day you came back to me.”

You started to sob, recounting the loneliness that you felt. And the fear of not knowing Murphy’s fate. Were you holding out for someone who was dead? Was it hopeless to wish that he would keep his promise?

“I turned people down. I kept faith in you. I told everyone how proud I was. And then to know that you weren’t keeping me with you at all. I wasn’t even a passing thought.”

“It’s not like that,” Murphy said.

“But it is. She’s your girlfriend.”

“I don’t- love her,” he said softly, swallowing hard enough to make his entire throat bob up and down.

“Then what?” You were at the tipping point with Murphy. Exasperated with his short answers and frustrated with the secrets he was holding. If he wouldn’t be honest with you now, there was no way you would ever be with him in the future.

“I’ve been through a lot. More than I expected.” He stared into the distance, seemingly void of emotion. It was like he was lost, trying hard to remember something that he pushed away. “I was trapped. By myself. 86 days. You know how I spent that time?”

You shook your head in response. He was still burning holes in the wall, but somehow knew that you replied. He smirked slightly before saying, “I thought about you. And how good it would feel to see you once I was out. Granted, I went absolutely crazy in there, but you kept me as sane as I could be.”

You couldn’t help but to chuckle at this. “I can’t imagine you any more psychotic than you are now.”

“Is that so?” he bantered, catching you out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re a freak,” you teased.

“Why? Because I’ve killed a few people?”

“Yeah, that probably contributes.” The two of you shared a smile, falling back into old patterns. You missed having a person that you could shamelessly be yourself around. The quick wit and sly comments were always absorbed and thrown back by Murphy. No one else stood a chance against you.

“When he said he had someone,” Murphy carried on, “you’re the first person I thought of. But it seemed impossible until I saw you. I don’t know what came over me. I- I was blind with rage. I tried to fight my way out. Because if he hurt you-”

Murphy couldn’t bear to finish the sentence. You didn’t need him to. You knew what was left to say. You heard the distinct difference, the silence that fell, when he realized you were the captured person and not Emori.

“I know that doesn’t make any of this right, but I just wanted that feeling of safety that you gave me. And Emori was there. I misplaced it. And I’m sorry,” Murphy apologized.

“What about Emori, then?” you pressed.

“She’s a good person, and she will understand. I just couldn’t live with myself if I left you again.”

“You mean that?” Murphy simply nodded, outstretching his fingers in your direction. Even though you couldn’t hold hands, the sentiment remained as you reflected his actions. You were two people trying to make your own light in the darkest of situations.

“I love you,” you managed to choke out, taking in the dried blood on his hairline and the bruises on his skin. His pant leg was ripped at the cuff and his hands were caked in dirt. You needed him to know that no matter what happened, now and forever, that he could carry this with him. Even after death, if fate so decided.

“I love you, too,” he said, without hesitation or a second thought. It was something he wished he had told you the night he decided to leave. The only thing he regretted once he left the compound.

But he had the chance to fix all of that. And in that moment, he swore that once you escaped, he would always be there to protect you. He would always console you and your wondering thoughts. He would love you the way that he should have a long time ago.

He promised he would always find a way to come back to you.

He promised he would never leave.

He promised.

**Hey, it's Lainey. Slightly embarrassing but I am back from the grave! I hope you all enjoy this and still love Murphy as much as I do <3

[eglcntine-archived]

talking to @mcintyrie​ sparked a desire to talk about Murphy’s canon divergences in my hands . ooops .👀

anyways, one of the things i’ve done with Murphy is that with his return to Camp Jaha and having been pardoned, comes the discovery of an abandoned Maine Coon kitten suffering deformities from years of radiation . 

in this case she has janus, which is the mutation of the face in the womb that gives them two heads sorta fused together to look like they have three eyes, and two mouths. Whether it’s functional or not is dependent. 

But

The reason I was hellbent on giving Murphy something to raise and fixate on so early in the series is the parallel between this abandoned kitten and Murphy’s own grief. 

while it’s not a carbon copy story, Murphy in everyway and right feels abandoned. not only was his father taken away from him over a cold that should have killed him ( remember he stole medicine for his one and only son, and the medicine turned out not to be the right one anyways ) but his mother grew to resent and blame him, abandoning him as well by taking her own life through abusing alcohol. 

giving Murphy this cat that is clearly supposed to die reflects his own inner turmoil. this grief he has never been given the opportunity to address. 

everyone talks about him and treats him like this kid who wasted a second opportunity at life but what kind of life is this where he’s left alone to fend for himself? 

i digress ( again )

anyways, Murphy hates the cat. he takes her in, chews raw meat for her to eat, carefully drips whatever milk he can get into her mouth, a rag soaked in for her to suck on until she can function on her own and throughout this he is incredibly mean in the way he describes her .

but she lives. she lives not just because Murphy sees her through it but because she fought and strove to survive. mirroring his own struggle and strive for survival.

she ends up fueling his want to exist in this world; to have a place and feel like he belongs. 

Bella becomes his greatest friend and companion and the one living breathing thing he trusts the most . goes as far as to take her on the field with him, a valuable asset in surveillance and combat.  ( Maine Coons are massive )

Bonus : Murphy names her Bella because he gets to call her Bell which allows him to irritate Bellamy, by making him look. 

Murphy : “Not you asshole. The better Bell.”

anyways, Bella below the cut because I love her and she’s precious . januse tw facial demformity tw  ( credit @hcmlock​ , who spoils me )

[someplace-that-is-else]

‘Until We Meet Again: The 100′s Final Season--Wasted Potential or A Fit Ending?’

Editor’s Note: Spoilers for the last season of The 100 as well as past seasons.

 I was surprised.

 In the closing hours of the sixth season of The 100, the CW announced that it would be getting a seventh season. They also announced that it would be the final season.

 What? FINAL season? Really?

 The fifth season was a great season for the show with the six-year time jump, ending in another time jump that spanned 125 years and a new planet. The sixth season was an intriguing new world and storyline. It had been a while since it went hardcore sci-fi…A.L.I.E. in the divisive third season…the sixth season did it with ripe possibilities, plot twists, and…as was usual for this show…actual death. Labeled Book 2, I had been curious to see where the creator Jason Rothenberg and the writers would take us given Book 1 took 5 seasons.

 But now? Would main characters Clarke and Bellamy (aka Bellarke) end the show together? Would humanity learn any better given they have survived at least TWO apocalypses? Would Octavia (my favorite character who had gone from the girl under the floor to Grounder to Skairippa to lethal Red Queen) get a happy ending?

 With 16 episodes announced, there was plenty of time. Plenty of time to close out the story. My co-worker who was a big fan of course was worried. She grew moreso the closer it got to the time when the CW usually promoted. And…NOTHING.

 A sign of things to come…or just paranoia?

What’s the Endgame?: The 100’s Serpentine Final Season Plot

 I’ll say this much. I was intrigued.

 At the end of last season, our main characters revealed to the people of the new planet Sanctum that the leaders they worshipped as gods were not. They used technology to transfer their consciousness into ‘willing’ people. After being that way for centuries, how would these people go on when their belief system had been revealed to be false? Some people were angry at being deceived. Others felt mad at Clarke and friends for revealing the truth, destroying their system of living.

 Meanwhile we had Clarke and the others still dealing with the truce between them and the Eligius prisoners that were part of their crew now. Their leader Diyoza was missing, leaving the Eligius adrift. And due to the end of Season Six, Clarke’s own crew were on a slippery slope, thinking her ‘daughter’ Madi was still the Commander.

 Four different factions. So many possibilities. They were possibilities that the writers appeared to want to touch on. And there was the question of…could they all get along? Be greater and better than the sum of their parts? Or was the last of humanity doomed to be in constant conflict?

 Then there was the disappearance of Bellamy…

  Ah! Bellamy. After being a co-leader with Clarke basically for most of the seasons, Bellamy found himself at the center of a new mystery. Moments after his sister Octavia disappeared into mist after being stabbed by new character Hope, Bellamy was full of questions about what had just happened. What he got was knocked out, dragged across the ground by people unseen, and then vanished into the Anomaly, a circle of light that was a mystery left over from last season.

 What followed was several different stories. There was Echo, Bellamy’s girlfriend, on the hunt for the vanished Bellamy. There was the mystery of what happened to Octavia. There’s Clarke and Friends chasing after her as well as getting to the bottom of the Bellamy mystery. Meanwhile, there was Madi left behind, dealing with her duty versus a desire for a normal life. There also was the growing tension between the Eligius prisoners and the natives of the new world.

 Because that was not enough, there were curveballs. Oh…that crazy Commander from the Flame, the symbol of the tribes united under Clarke? He possessed one of the last False Gods on this world. You had one of Clarke’s group Starscream-que Murphy and his lover Emori…also pretending to be Gods themselves due to a plot thread from last season. Diyoza and Octavia’s whereabouts revealed the origins of new character Hope…and a whole other world Bardo. And behind Bardo…was a loose plot thread that was seeded all the way back in Season Four. Oh, and did we mention there was a lot of time jumping, one prequel tale (aka a backdoor pilot), and world travelling a la SLIDERS.

 It was not unusual for The 100 to throw so many ideas at the audience. But so many ideas…INCLUDING THE KITCHEN SINK?  In the FINAL season?

 Yes, a few of the ideas were intriguing. On their own. But all of them…together?

 I could not begin to describe how many times I felt like I needed a cheat sheet to keep up with everything. And even then…there would be weeks where the viewers never saw a set of characters or a plotline. There was one case when one character was gone for weeks aka a long stretch of episodes. Worse given how important that character was to several characters, no one noticed they were missing.

 Or the time jumping. There would be a plotline with a plot twist. Then the show would jump back three months. Then it would move a few weeks ahead to show another angle. Or when it decided to explain the whereabouts of Bellamy, it chose an episode where time passed and then it jumped ahead to the present, picking up a storyline from another episode. It was the very definition of whiplash.

 At the start of the season, the writers pondered an interesting question. Was the last of humanity doomed to constant conflict…or could they be better than that? While the Bardo plot thread tapped into that theme, the show became style over substance. And that style…was smoke and mirrors. I thought that theme was being tackled with the four factions on Sanctum. Now? The writers gave up on it. Sadly.

 By the time the writers revealed the whereabouts of Bellamy, most of the season was over. Worry kicked in. Was there still time to resolve the characters’ stories…or would it be…a rushed ending?

 Speaking of which…

 The Girl Under the Floor: The 100 and Natural Ends

 Clarke. Octavia. Indra. Echo. Madi. Miller. The names go on and on.

 Throughout six seasons, viewers have gone through the highs and lows with these characters. Viewers saw Clarke kill her first love Finn. Viewers saw Indra take Octavia under her wing, giving her a mother figure that she missed in her own life. Viewers saw Madi lose her mind. The Conclave. Praimfaya. Mount Weather. A.L.I.E. Characters had been known to go through it on this show. Things happened. People changed.

 So near the end of The 100’s run, viewers wanted to know…how would their favorites end up?

 What they got…AGAIN…was smoke and mirrors.

 The writers appeared to be more focused on new characters than the characters that viewers had gotten to know over six seasons. In some cases, like Bardo native Levitt, it worked because he became involved with a character viewers cared about. In this case Octavia. Others like that Diyoza-lite chick had no connection to the faves, other than being annoying no matter how sympathetic she was written. Or worse, they were like Hope. A rapidly aged child of Diyoza, Hope was more whining annoying brat than a fighter like viewers expected her mother to be. Given more time, she might have become likable, but…there was no time.

And speaking of time…what of the old timers? The characters the audience cared about. So many characters have come and gone. Finn. Lincoln. Lexa. Jaha. Jasper. Clarke’s own mother Abby. Only a handful of the original 100 were left along with well developed supporting characters. With this being the last season, were they coming to a natural end?

 Octavia was being dealt with efficiently as the writers highlighted the fact that she was on a path to redemption after two seasons of darkness and introspective healing. But what about Clarke…THE MAIN CHARACTER? After doing what she had to do for her people, what would her happy ending be…at peace with Madi, finding a new love, and/or finding a way for all humanity to live peacefully in such a way that the sacrifices were worth it? Or what of Indra…what end does she deserve as a warrior? What of Madi…would she choose a normal teenager’s life or the life of being a commander of her warrior people?

 Off the top of my head, there were two characters who had quite a nice end. First there was Octavia. After the horrors she committed as The Red Queen and trying to make amends, she discovered redemption through the eyes of others who saw her through a different and fresh set of eyes. First, Hope who looked up to her as a mother figure. Then through the eyes of a complete stranger in Levitt who found her inspiring. She found the one thing that she had been looking for throughout the whole series: belonging and acceptance.

 The other character was Murphy. The cockroach. From the ‘Starscream’ of the group to showing some sense of right and wrong. And along with Emori, they were the ultimate scheme team. Slowly, but surely there was love. Posing as false gods presented a new challenge for them…what happens when a scheme team is given actual responsibilities for people. And through this challenge, the viewers learned exactly how much Murphy had grown through the series as well as explored layers to Emori that we did not even know she had.

 That was not the fate for all the characters we knew and loved.

  Madi started off alone in the series, discovering love through her motherly bond with Clarke. And the constant debate of teenage life vs leader life has been a constant with her a la BUFFY lite. She was finally given a taste of what it was like to be a teen…then the plot arc of the Bardo people ended that. Abruptly, I might add. In fact, her fate felt like shock value for value sake given some of the other stories for characters.

 Gaia appeared posed to be a long overdue love interest for Clarke. Not to mention that the writers were exploring more of her relationship with her mother Indra. Instead, she became the character who vanished for the majority of the episodes. Worse, NO ONE noticed she was gone.

 There were several more instances of this (can we talk about the fact that while Raven got moments, she did not really have ANY endgame developments?), it was the main narrative characters who appeared to get the worst of this.

 And nowhere was that clearer than with Bellamy Clarke.

  Bait and Switch, or the Strange Case of Bellamy Clarke

I had always heard that you could tell how a TV show felt about a character/actor by how they were written out of a show. A recent example that came to mind was Charisma Carpenter’s character Cordelia Chase during Season 4 of ANGEL by way of a coma when all fans knew she was the heart and soul of that show. 

Another example was the character of Professor Maxmillian Arturo (played with wit, humor, and intelligence by John Rhys-Davies) on the sci-fi show SLIDERS. Not only was he stabbed with a syringe that rendered him dumb, but he was shot and his body left on a planet that exploded. All IN THE SAME EPISODE. Yeah, no love lost between the actor and the people in charge during that show’s third season.

 Which brings us to Bellamy Clarke…

 Bellamy Clarke had been with The 100 since the beginning. A reckless bad boy except for when it came to his sister Octavia, Bellamy went from that to being a frenemy to other main character Clarke to being a good friend and co-leader (birthing the ship name Bellarke) to a capable leader in his own right. Along the way, he made so many mistakes. Bellamy clashed often with others. But he grew. And the time jump saw him get a capable girlfriend in Echo. His bigger drama would always be with his sister Octavia as they clashed as only siblings could clash, but there was always love there. So it made sense that he would want to know the mystery of Hope and how it tied into his sister turning into mist and vanishing.

 But…he vanished himself. For the first half of the season, the mystery of his kidnapping was a plot. And then…during a shootout involving Octavia, Bellamy appeared to be blown up in an explosion. Granted, The 100 did not shy away from killing off a main character (Lincoln, Lexa), but it was so jarring to see it happen.

Just as bad as seeing Bellamy later…as a disciple of the Big Bad on Bardo. After a bottle episode involving a man vs nature theme (a theme I do not like and did not like in this case). And time jumping. AGAIN. Can we say whiplash?

 And then…Bellamy was SHOT. BY CLARKE. Body…left…bleeding…on…the floor.

 Can we say DOUBLE whiplash?

 I was aware thanks to the co-worker who got me into The 100 that there was some off-camera drama going on. And because of that, the actor had asked for some personal leave time. So his filming was very, very limited. HOWEVER, I know enough after years of watching tv shows (the situation with the two actresses on THE GOOD WIFE for example) AND soaps to know two things. One…if a writer had an actor for a limited time, you wrote a complete arc. You also filmed as much as possible. And if you needed said actor back at the end of a show and was not sure if they would be available…go ahead and film a scene to insert in the last episode. It was what the fans that have followed a show for years deserves. PERIOD.

 Two…the fate of Bellamy could have been written better than that. In fact, the writers were better off having Bellamy die in the Bardo explosion while trying to save his sister. That at least was true to his character and his complete arc on the show. If they had to do the disciple arc at all, there had to be some conflict over his loyalty to Clarke or his loyalty to Bardo. Allow the other characters to be conflicted, something the writers normally did not shy away from. Show, don’t tell the struggle. If Clarke had to shoot Bellamy, it had to make sense.

 From what was shown, there was plenty of time for Clarke to get the book of Madi’s memories. There was time to just simply knock Bellamy out. And if Bellamy had to be shot, there was time to write in the fate of his body. To fans’ knowledge, Bellamy’s body was still laying there on the floor, bleeding out. To add insult to injury, FakeRussell…who was in the same scene…was in the next episode with no Bellamy mentions.

 So let’s review. Bellamy was blown up in one episode. Bellamy was left on a world to fight nature on another. Bellamy was turned into a brainless disciple on another episode. Finally, Bellamy was shot dead by his best friend (who happened to be his wife IRL. How meta.).

 Shows what the writers and creator feel about the actor, don’t you think?

 May We Meet Again…?

 Regardless of the management of the character of Bellamy, The 100 had another main character to deal with. Clarke Griffin had been the main protagonist since Episode 1. She had lost her first love, lost a great love, and made quite a lot of serious choices for someone so young. And given that the theme of the last season was about humanity and its way of living, it was a sure thing that Clarke would have to make another major decision. But…would Clarke get a happy ending?

 Well…this show would not be this show…and Clarke would not be Clarke if she wasn’t put through it. My problem was that up until the end, Clarke was basically a cameo in her own show. That itself was an oddity given that she was the one focused on the hunt for Bellamy.

 There was potential. From what to do about Madi to how she was coping with her mother’s death to some vibes between her and Gaia, Clarke had several things spinning in her orbit coming into the last season. And what was surprising was NONE of it was touched on. 

And then…Bellamy was shot by her and Madi turned up brain dead in the service of the Bardo arc.

 In the end, Clarke was with her friends. And she was happy. But…she was not with her daughter though Madi did wind up in a better place. She was not with anyone though a cameo from the actress who played Lexa in the early seasons was nice. And her mother’s death was not touched on…though that actress also made a cameo in the last episode.

 Does Clarke deserve a happy ending? Debatably yes. But this season a happy ending did not at all feel earned. And it would be one thing if there was another season. However, this was the LAST season. Worse, was the central theme of this last season…a main theme of the show itself…answered? Did humanity learn to be better, or would they stay in constant conflict?

 In the end…humanity DID learn to be better. Interestingly it took Octavia and Raven going to bat for humanity to make that happen. And that was after Clarke had again failed after making a near fatal decision for the rest of the group. After watching Clarke grow into a capable leader, I was saddened to see that in the end she felt like a footnote. As did Bellamy.

 Well…I guess I could look on the bright side…Octavia got a happy ending. And a complete arc. So did Murphy. Raven proved she was also an important character akin to the many times that Bonnie Bennett had to save all the characters on THE VAMPIRE DIARIES constantly, usually at great sacrifice to herself. But Clarke and Bellamy…the actual main characters…well…

 For a show to be told they got 16 episodes to wrap up plots that had been going on and characters that have been developed over 7 years, I would say it went out with a whimper. Given other shows with notice like HOW TO GET AWAY WITH MURDER and THE MAGICIANS went out with just about everything wrapped up fittingly and just about all characters serviced almost correctly if not outright perfectly, The 100’s last season looked like patchwork in comparison. Like the writers threw everything at the wall to see what would stick. Or worse…they got so distracted by what was shiny and new, they forgot about the characters that viewers cared about.

 In the end, I guess the last season was like a sandcastle. It looked nice, but once the waves come in, it went away. So much potential…washed back into nothing.

     #the100 #cw #bellarke #jasonrothenberg #octavia #finalseason #bellamy #clarke #sliders #charismacarpenter #angel #johnrhysdavies #arturo #starscream #buffy #whiplash #thevampirediaries #howtogetawaywithmurder #themagicians

[electricbluebutterflies]

Angsty Kabby prompt! Jaha gives Kane the chip in S3 and gets the info he needs, but never takes him off the cross. When the dust settles, Abby finds Kane crucified. What happens next?

I’m playing loose with both medical plausibility and timelines here because I DO NOT write death for these babes and also it’s not like the actual show did well on either of those things. Obviously s3-divergent, PG13-ish, also on ao3.

She has to find him.

Abby has been conscious, or at least fully present in her own body, for a few hours at most. There are a lot of things she doesn’t know, details that will probably make her life complicated over the next few days, and she will learn all of them in time. What she is sure of right now, from the brief flickers she got when under the influence of the chip, is that she may have wrecked her private life and she needs to undo that now.

Flickers, she reminds herself as she tries to get downstairs because of course this whole final-battle whatever-the-hell had to happen in the tallest building she’s ever been in, because her body still does not like stairs and she stops counting after ten levels but she knows it’s more than that. She feels like she has died and only partially been brought back to life, and that may well be an accurate description of what happened. If she had any self-preservation instincts whatsoever, if what few she once possessed hadn’t burned in their landing several months ago, she would find herself a quiet nest somewhere on one of the middle floors here and sleep it all off for several days.

But there’s that irritating uncertainty poking at her heart, that missing piece she couldn’t find when everything else became clear. Her daughter is fine and as usual more on top of things than she herself will ever be. As Abby makes her way down, she takes note of other people in her life who are important to her and conscious again – none of them barely-covered bodies on the floor, she comforts herself. There’s just the one missing piece and she-

The problem is she’d fucked it up before mind control had anything to do with her decision-making abilities or lack thereof. She’d felt something two months ago, back when domestic patterns were forming and she realized one morning that she couldn’t remember the last time they’d gotten into a sparring match over something that didn’t actually matter. Marcus has somehow become a tolerable person on earth, somehow– no, that’s not what it is, they have both changed in complimentary if not always better ways. Even when he was a frustration, he was at least a known factor. Pick fights with someone for most of your life, as she has, and you know everything they are. And that changed, and she wanted him, and she can’t explain why, and-

Finally, solid ground beneath her feet and no sign of her missing person. Abby realizes she still holds her weapon – and to think that the last time she was in control of herself, she’d had no desire to learn how to shoot anything. She’s had to now, may have to again. There will be fallout from this most recent round of humanity’s fight to survive, there is always fallout, and the budding idea that this time she will have to face it alone makes her cold. No, she wants to scream, please no. She had held back for fear of this fate, only allowed herself to start acting on emotion when her body couldn’t hold it in anymore, and still-

She finds herself in a more open space, and her worst fear is made visible.

There’s no way in hell he’s still alive, not like that, she is hopeful but not delusional and this feels like a good place to draw the line. It has been, she guesses, two or three days since the particular incident that led to her not-quite-lover getting tortured like this. Too pale, badly-nailed wrists and bound ankles, closed eyes. There are other bodies in similar condition, and it looks like vultures have begun to take them apart, but they have left him alone. She can’t… she can’t…

After all they went through, the least she can do is take him down. She owes that much.

There’s a makeshift ladder within range and she drags it where she needs. Abby is well aware how small she is, how incapable of handling this as it should be. A pair of pliers on the ground looks a little questionable but how much does it even matter, she’s about to pull nails out of probably-decayed human skin, a little rust can’t make the situation worse. Why this, why her, why this man who she will not be able to move if her plan even works. Why her stubbornness and inability to ask anyone else for help. Why her.

She undoes the ankle bindings first – whomever did those was not very thorough, and she’s thankful for that. Easy to practically tear off. Then, hope against hope, her fingers check for a pulse. She expects nothing, closes her eyes, begs-

Not. Dead. Not yet.

May be soon, if she doesn’t do damage control on a certain level, but not yet.

Ladder now, she is so small and about to do something that may cause more damage but she does not care. Something in the chip must preserve human life somehow, she is not thinking about that right now but she will wonder in days to come because that is all she has to explain this. Shaking hands as she goes for the nail in his right wrist first. He already has a scar on that side, another sacrificial attempt too visible, and now this.

Somehow she is strong enough, some reserve of adrenaline kicking in as she needs it. She gets the nail out and sees fresh blood from where the pliers nipped his skin, and then his arm drops to his side. She moves and does the other one quickly before any further damage can follow, and then he falls.

Not dead yet, she reminds herself. Maybe not fully there right now, but not dead yet.

Dragging a body across a ruined city is an impossibility. Maneuvering one into more comfortable position is less so. In absence of anything better, her shirt will have to do for bandages – she’s got a tank top on underneath as always, no one will see anything improper, and this space is deserted anyways. She tears the sleeves off and ties each one around a wrist, tight enough to cover the bleeding but not enough to hurt. The rest of the shirt will work as a pillow, and… all she can do is wait now. Wait and hope and fight the desire to scream.

This was her fault. She will never know how, will never have those pieces of time that were taken from her, but she knows all of this was somehow her fault. It’s only fair she undo it.

She waits for hours in perfect silence, waits as day turns to night and the sky covers with clouds. Rain is a comfort, falling onto her shaking body and her partner’s dry face. She checks for pulses every so often and finds them unchanged, less than ideal but still there, but his eyes stay closed and she wonders if there is anything still in there or if this body in front of her is merely that now, a shell that used to be someone she loved. Or maybe he’s just resting, exhaustion having chosen this moment to catch up with him. As it should for her, as it should’ve at some point in the past few days weeks months years, as-

She doesn’t notice when she collapses. Not the first time she’s crashed with his chest as a pillow, not the first time she-

When she wakes, someone is petting her hair.

It’s daylight again, cloudy but at least not currently raining. She feels mud all over her body, understandable enough, and she is too old to sleep in questionable positions but desperation does what it will and she’ll hiss for two days and she’ll be fine. And she knows without seeing what has happened, what strange miracle they have survived this time.

“How long have you been awake?” she murmurs, not moving her head to see.

“Few hours? You looked comfortable, I didn’t want to-“

This is why she loves him, she thinks, this recently-developed kindness in this man. From what she knows, Marcus has had a worse week than she has – and a near-death experience worse than her own, as much as that shouldn’t be possible – and she’s not sure how functional he even is but he’s still worrying about her. It’s sweet, and it breaks her, and-

“Are you…”

“Tired. In pain. Alive.”

“You don’t have to play with my hair if it hurts too much.” She likes it, but she’d never…

“I’m assuming you got me down?”

Abby pushes herself up and turns to get a better look at him. Still there, still too pale and not enough fire in his eyes but so present despite it, still looking at her like she is something he could never plan for. Yet another time one of them should’ve died and didn’t. How many more of these moments will they get, she wonders, how many more miracles wasted on their lives.

“I’m not sure how, but… yeah.”

He looks like he’s about to cry, which she’s never seen happen like this – those few nights over the yeas on observation decks with glass bottles clutched too tightly do not count – and it breaks her heart. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs.

“You tried to die for me. Again. You need to stop doing that.”

“And you came and-“

“It was my fault,” she says, because she needs to accept this even though it wasn’t consciously her fault. “I did this.”

“You didn’t put the nails in my wrists if that’s what you’re wondering. You were just… I could never let anyone else hurt you.”

It’s better not to know, she decides. Always better not to know with that man. Lately, because she trusts him enough.

She’s quiet for a while, taking it all in. They’ll move forward from this, in time. In a few hours, when they’re both stable enough to stand, she’ll get him somewhere they can both clean off and make sure nothing else is wrong. In a few days, when the impossibilities have worn off, she’ll pull him down and do what she should’ve done a few weeks ago before everything went to hell.

Right now it’s enough to linger, to give face kisses and try not to fall apart, to cling. This is enough, they are enough.

“You weren’t there,” she murmurs, her face now resting in the curve of his neck. “I woke up and you weren’t there. Never again.”

“Never again,” he repeats, hands again tangling in her hair.

“Are you sure that doesn’t hurt?”

“Worth it.”

[black-dragon1998]

Lone wolf chapter 3

Clexa and reader negotiate with camp Jaha.

part 1-part 2

I know it has been a while but I still hope people like the read. Commands are still welcome

The remaining distance between the tree line and Camp Jaha was crossed by only Clarke, Lexa and you. Anya would stay behind and command the troops, and set up camp. Waiting on standby, for if stings did not end so well.

You were sure you could take the Skaikru, but with Lexa and Clarke, you didn't want to take any chances

You sharpened your senses to try and pick up any movement from inside the camp and keep a close eye on the guards around the fence. You could hear a lot of activity inside, and it was close to dawn, and it wasn't that surprising. The only ones who were quiet were the guard towers.

You could see them lazily looking around. If they were under your command, you would have overseen their punishment personally.

When the three of you crossed the 100 feet mark, you had yet to be noticed. It wasn't like you were trying to hide, it was a bare plain, so it wasn't hard to spot you.

The closer you got, the bigger the desire became to throw something. Breaching the 50 feet marker. Everything changed. People started to scream from inside the camp. The guards jumped to alert; guns were drawn but not pointed at anybody. In front of the gate, you razed yourself in the saddle.

"Heda, commander of the twelve clans and Wanheda ask entrance to Camp Jahan village of the Skaikru!" your voice boomed over the screams, and everybody went quiet. Clarke's hands tighten around your arm.

It took a while before the gate opened, but nobody was shooting at you yet. So that was a good start.

Both you and Lexa led the horses inside, body and mind on high alert. A crowd was quickly forming around the three of you. There was a distinct difference between the guards and the rest of the camp. People looked at the three of you curiously, and it seemed nobody had recognized Clarke yet.

Clarke had changed over the four years you had known her. Her hair was shoulder-length, the side a little shorter, and the longer parts were nicely braided. She was also wearing her warpaint, and like always, she wore it with pride. One of the other noticeable differences was the new tattoos.

One was the one all three of you shared. The one that bonded you together, the grounder equivalent of marriage. Life as a grounder had also been good for her. Her muscles had grown. Gone was the skinny sky girl, and in her place stood a real queen. Equal to Lexa in full Heda arteria.

Sharing a nod with Lexa, you jumped off the horse and squared your shoulders, making a couple of guards take a step back. Others were fighting not to cringe when you looked at them.

The crowd parted as four people stepped forward, led by a blond woman.

"I demand to know why you are here!" the woman was coming closer, only stopping a couple of feet away. She looked to be in her mid-fifties. You didn't answer her, just stared at her down. Having a suspicion about who this woman was, Clarke's mother.

"Hello, mother. It has been a while." Clarke's voice sounded strong, even strong. Only then people did recognize Clarke.

"Clarke, is that really you?" the woman's voice started to become emotional. Clarke got off the horse and stood next to you. Winter sat next to Clarke and Rain next to Lexa, and wood stayed between them, eyeing everybody who got too close. The tension was almost so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Clarke and Lexa had made you wear normal grounder clothes, wanting to make you look as nonthreatening as possible. You even made the joke that it wouldn't matter if they shot you or not, and you wouldn't die either way.

The joke wasn't that well relieved. Both glared at you while hitting your arm and head. So here you were, clad in normal robes that seemed to do nothing more than restrict your movements.

Anya had practically fallen to the ground from laughing too hard. Clarke had to stop you before the coalition was a general shorter.

Clarke was the first to speak, wanting to get over this as fast as possible.

"yes. The commander and I are here to talk about the future of the Skaikru." Clarke used her tone while dealing with the ambassadors of the 12 clans. You found it very sexy when she got all commanding; that and the older men were scared of her and Lexa. Well, probably, even more when you were in the meetings. You had scared your fair share of them.

Let's just say that Lexa's authority was only questioned once.

  "what the hell do you want? How dare you come here!" A boy stormed out of the crowd, straight toward Clarke. You quickly stepped in his path and pushed him back. You couldn't help the snarl that ripped from your throat. Nobody lanched for Clarke and got away with it.

The boy looked around the same age as Clarke. He had dark brown hair and had a look in his eyes that made you instantly not like him. He was quickly pulled back in the crowd before you could get a hold of him.

When Clarke's mother started talking, you tuned her out. She only got your attention back when she walked closer to Clarke. For a moment, you thought she was going to hit her.

Instead, she hugged her daughter. Clarke did look a bit throwback at this. While this happened, you looked around the crowd again, making sure nobody would pop out again.

The counsellor quickly decided that maybe things should be disgusted in private. Lexa agreed with her. You did get some strange stares when you followed them inside, flanked by your wolves.

    "Five years, Clarke! For five years, we have heard nothing from you. All thinking you are dead. And then you walk in here with her of all people." Abby pointed an accusing finger at Lexa, who didn't seem bothered by it.

"the same woman who betrayed us!" Abby was all but screaming the moment the door closed behind you. The only other person inside was a man named Marcus Kane.

Clarke felled like a ten-year-old again, being scolded by her mother.

"and who the hell is this woman surrounded by a pack of mutts?" Clarke could see the anger rising. You didn't like it when people foul-mouthed your babies. Catching your gaze and shaking her head. She hoped you wouldn't do anything reckless. There was only so much pocking you could handle. Lexa, for her part, was standing stoically at the side, waiting for the ventilation to be over. Observing the situation. Ready to act at any moment's notice.

"I know it has been a long time since you have seen me," Clarke admitted, and she felled sorry it took so long for her to get here.

"then why did it take you so long to come back home?" Abby was almost pleading.

"I had my reasons, obligations I couldn't forsake. I promise I will explain everything tonight, but I am not returning to camp. I'm here to make a deal that can benefit both ore people." Clarke was trying to stay professional.

"What kind of deal?" Marcus asked.

"give the man a  price. He asked the first relevant question today." You dramatically exclaimed. Happy Abby wasn't rambling anymore. Lexa gave you a ghost of a smile, but the other two women glared at you.

  Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut, but the opportunity was too good.

"Who are you again? Haven't seen you before with the commander before." Abby took a couple of toward you, making your wolves growl aggressively.

"and what are these mutts doing here?" this was the second time she had called them mutts, and it started to piss you off. You pushed yourself away from the wall and took a step closer to Abby, your wolves moving with you. Seeing the situation escalate, Clarke and Lexa intervened by stepping in between the two of you. Even this didn't seem to stop her, and Lexa had to actually push you back.

"(Y/N) nou!" ((Y/N) stop!) Lexa's demand was low, full Heda, and the please behind it even lower. When you looked at her, she had a pleading look in her eyes, and you backed off.

"Veniz!" (down!) your command was immediately followed. The three wolves calmed down instantly. To be sure, Clarke and Lexa kept their stance between you two to prevent you from going at Abby again. To show your goodwill, you leaned against the wall.

"mom, could you please not insult our general. We are not here to start a war."

"then why are you here, Clarke?" Lexa decided to jump in and relieve Clarke's stress.

"counsellor Griffin." Lexa started. Abby turned toward her, and Clarke let out e relieved breath. Another disaster was prevented.

"I know our people haven't been on the best of terms for a long time, and I have to admit I was not the biggest fan of your people's ways, to begin with, and over the past five years, it hasn't really improved," Lexa stated not hiding her feelings. You never thought she would. That was why Lexa was so good at what she did. She always went straight to business when needed to.

Abby was clearly offended by the comments and ready to counter but was stopped by Clarke.

"mom, please let her talk." Abby looked at her daughter with sore eyes. However, didn't react. Lexa went on as if nothing had happened, and she was far too familiar with being interrupted.

"We have predicted next winter will be one of the harshest in decades. The shelters you have at the moment won't be enough to protect you from them. This has caused our Kwin to make a request." Marcus seemed to be intrigued by the commander's wording.

"she asked that we reach out and see if we couldn't make a peace offer. Not wanting innocent people to suffer. She wants our people to combine forces, and I do think both our people could learn for one another." Abby seemed caught up in her emotions to talk. Marcus decided to step in. He knew the proposal needed to be brought to the people to see how they thought about it before final dissensions could be made later. Now he wanted to prevent Abby from starting a war.

"thank you, commander. We will discuss this with the camp and the rest of the council." Marcus explained with a small bow. Both Lexa and Clarke nodded, expecting something like this. You just stared at him.

"We understand," Lexa answered.

"if I may ask Heda. What does Kwin mean." Marcus had never heard those words from Lincoln or Octavia before.

"it means queen in English. Our queen has requested to bury the hatched, and you should be honoured." You chime in, knowing the sweat and tears it had cost Clarke to make the councillors agree, and Clarke gave you a glare for your lack of tact.

"as a sign of our goodwill, we have prepared a feast for all of Skaikru," Clarke told them. Abby and Marcus agreed to accept the invitation and let the camp know it was safe to take the food. Lexa even told them it could be arranged for food to be brought into the camp for people who weren't comfortable coming out. Marcus appreciated this gesture greatly

"who is this queen you are speaking of? I wasn't aware that there was another person besides the commander who had power over the coalition?" Abby asked. Clarke smiled at her mother.

"you will meet her tonight. She will be overseeing the feast and introduce herself to the Skaikru." Lexa told them. When you were about to leave, Abby asked if she could talk to Clarke alone, and you and Lexa agreed to tell her you would be waiting outside.

    The moment the door closed, Abby turned to Clarke.

"I'm okay, mom, I promise," Clarke reassured Abby.

"Are you sure? they haven't hurt you, did they?" Abby looked her over to see any injuries or scares.

"no, mom, I'm not hurt."

"then why haven't you come home sooner?" Abby pleaded with her daughter.

"Are they keeping you hostage?" grasping at every straw she could think off. For Abby, there was no other way her daughter would stay away for so long.

"no, mom, they aren't keeping me, prisoner. This may be hard to believe, but I'm happy. I know all of you think Lexa is this cold, harsh ruler. Believe me, I thought that too, but she isn't. she cares about her people. Having gotten to know her better, I understand why she did what she did. I would have probably done the same if it had saved you guys." Abby looked at her daughter, shocked. How could she say that?

"Clarke, how…" she wasn't even able to finish her sentence. Clarke saw her mother struggle but knew now wasn't the right time to explain everything. She had to let her mother come to terms with her being back before she dropped anything else on her. So, she was going to stay with the plan she had discussed with you and Lexa. She also wanted the two of you there when she told her mother and friends.

"I will explain everything tonight at the feast. That way, The 100 can hear it as well." Abby looked at her daughter and didn't see the little girl that had been sent to earth to die before her stood a confident young woman.

"Okay, I trust 'you', and because of that, I will accept the commander's peace offer. I will announce to the camp that they can trust the grounders around the camp. I can't guarantee everybody is going to be happy with it." Abby admitted sadly.

"That is all I'm asking for," Clarke tells Abby.

"As for the asking to join the coalition. That is something I have to discuss with the people. They have a right to have a say, and it is something they have a right to say something about." Clarke was happy to see Abby was evolving as a leader compared to how she was on the ark.

"I understand as well as Lexa. If it's okay with you, mom, I would like to see my friends before the feasts start." Giving her mother a final goodbye before she walks out, feeling confident this was the right move they played.

part 4

[sometimesrosy]

reading your ask about when characters were happiest, it makes me really wish we could’ve seen jake and clarke’s relationship more fleshed out. there hasn’t really been father / daughter relationships portrayed on the 100 except russel and josie and that was a disaster lol. kane was a surrogate father in some ways and same with sinclair.

For Father-Daughter we have Clarke and Jake, Josephine and Russell, Maya and Vincent, Tor and Reese, a little Kane and Octavia and Harper. Also semi-father with Bellamy and Octavia (and a little Harper and Monroe.)

For Father-Son we have Wells and Jaha, Nathan and David, Dante and Cage, a little Kane and Bellamy, a little Bellamy and Pike, a little Murphy and Jaha, Semi-father with Bellamy and Murphy and Jasper. maybe that’s more big brother idk.

For Mother- Daughter we have Clarke and Abby, Gaia and Indra, Josephine and Simone, Clarke and Madi, Raven and Abby (that’s more than a little and more than implied,) Nia and Ontari and Echo (yikes!) Octavia and Aurora, Octavia and Indra, Diyoza and Hope, and some Octavia and Hope, 

For Mother-Son we have Bellamy and Aurora, Roan and Nia, Monty and Hannah, a little Abby and Murphy and Jackson, a little Clarke and Monty and Jasper, a little Indra and Lincoln.

I personally do not share fandom’s desire to see the stories of minor characters. I know this is un-fangirl-like but I’m into the story being told and I don’t find it a shame that we didn’t see some OTHER story. I like THIS story. And if we followed Jake and Clarke’s story it would be a different story entirely. That’s what fanfiction is for imo. 

I also think there are a lot more parental relationships shown on the 100 than there usually are in tv shows. Especially sff. Because it’s often about adventure and becoming a hero, and adding parental units can drag down the adventure and add another layer of the past that the heroes are trying to transcend. But this story has as a theme family and new generations and passing the baton, so it’s part of the narrative. And we’ve seen the kids of this show start to parent other kids.