#dropshipping down under

[sizzledropshipping]

Why Use Drop Ship Products

Today we have the whole wide world at our finger tips to select products that we want to have drop shipped to the consumers. Major brands offer their products for an online virtual storefront hosting the website for you and providing the drop shipping. The quest is not so much selecting a product but selecting "the" product. First take a look at the company that you plan to use for some of the following characterizes:

Look at the over all ranking of this drop ship company in comparison to other reliable companies.

You should be able to buy directly from the drop shipper at drop ship prices.

Depending on the specific product, can you get a free trial or a demo?

You should be able to access the product without too much difficulty.

The company should be a Member of the BBB in good standing.

You should be able to get the BBB Status and Rating information.

Does this company offer a sound support desk and support forum.

Are you able to get into a support knowledge base for quick answers?

You should be able to contact the drop shipper directly.

The drop shipper should be upfront about what percentage the product is marked up.

A very important part of the product business line is that the drop shipper ships with your name and address.

Remember if you use your credit card, you will pay out more but if you can use Papal, it will save both you and your customer.

The affiliate program is a needed tool that will increase your business.

Information is the key to most all-successful business so make sure they do offer some educational tools.

Finally find out how long they have been in business and how reliable are they.

Now that you have some good information on what to look for when you are trying to set up your drop shipper to supply you with products let us take a look at some of the best noted companies. The following companies can be found on different search engines.

The first drop ship company that offers all the things one needs to be successful is www.usellcorp.com . Usellcorp has a full review and offers all of the above-mentioned qualifications. They also have a huge amount of merchandise to offer you. Usell Corp has been in business since 1995 so they have been around long enough to formulate a good reputation.

The second recommended drop ship company with full review is www.worldwidebrands.com This Company offers name brand items at wholesale prices. They ship from all around the world so if you like to diversify and use a variety of goods this would be a great company for you. Worldwide Brands has been in business since 1999 an outstanding member of the BBB, which is an excellent place for you to begin your inquiries.

The third formable company is www.truedropshippers.com, which carries an excellent record as well. Just like the other companies, you can check out their policies and their record before you decide to use one of them. Many times these companies will send you a catalog or have one available for you to access on line. You should most certainly check different web sites to find out what are the best products with a good turn over and a great profit margin. True Drop shippers is one of the newer companies beginning in 2003 but have so far showed their importance in the market place. There are other companies that are acceptable but the review is not quite as high as the above three major companies. It is not to say that they would not fit your needs and are worth your while to check them out. Let us recommend to you companies like Doba, DSDI, Drop ship Design, and Mega Goods for they too have a good reputation.

The product or products you decide to sell are the utmost importance along with having a very good drop shipper that keeps the commitments of all the orders. It takes both in order to maintain your business successfully.

[angelicqsa]

.ೃ࿐ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 3, 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌𝗌𝗌!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ”, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ, ɪᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ.” – ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʟᴇᴠɪᴛʜᴀɴ

────────────˚🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆────────────

Being with bellamy was everything to me. You two were a perfect picture couple, ever since yall met; on the dropship the first day the 100 came down, you and Bellamy had chemistry. Despite you not liking his 'whatever the hell we want' motto you decide to give him a chance, and to let him in your heart. Since then its been nothing but pure bliss and a strong feeling of content. He'd always hold you and whisper sweet nothings and treat you like someone. And for once in your life you felt like you was important to someone, and you felt like you had meaning in life which is something you had never felt before. But now, its as if a summertime sadness has hit.

When Pike and Bellamy had been having these hush conversations he started acting a little off and the soft love touches were soon replaced with intense stares. It was as if a switch had flipped in him, a battle with dark vs light and the dark took over the light inside him. He walks out of the bathroom into your shared room and you ask, "Is everything okay Bellamy? You're acting a little off. You can talk to me you know?" You whisper as he climbs into bed and just stares at me as if i said nothing.

With a gruff sound he responds in a monotone way, "I'm fine. Just some stuff with Pike and Kane." he turns his back towards me before you could even respond he turns off his lamp on his side of the bed. Feeling disappointment wash through me, you turn off my lamp and let out a sigh then turn your back on him and lay there, with him consuming your last thoughts for the night.

That was about a week ago and since then, Pike has became the chancellor with Bellamy's help, Bellamy keeps distancing himself farther and farther away from you it's a contrast to how just a few weeks ago you two were a perfect couple, laughing together, secretly running off, fixing the cars together and just overall enjoying each others company. Everything has changed.

You finish up my work in the library, fixing books and collecting books that were once borrowed. You walk to the bar spotting Jasper, "Hey Jasper. How you holdin' up?" You ask curiously as you pull up a seat next to him. you were secretly hoping he wouldn't blame me for Maya's death for the 15th time in the past month which of course you felt somewhat guilty about, but you're aware that it wasn't you who killed her, and the ones responsible held an immense amount of guilt, not only for her, but for all the victims.

"Hey.." Jasper says drunkenly, while nodding off. He had bags under his eyes as if he never sleeps, which could be possibles considering the grief he was feeling. His grief and his drinking go hand in hand, everytime you see Jasper he's either drunk or on his way to being drunk. It was sad seeing your friend destroy himself.

"How are you tod-" You quickly get cut off to Lincoln being dragged out of medical by one of Pike's goons while angrily cursing at them in Trigedasleng.

"What the fuck is going on!?" You rush over to the scene while looking at Lincoln getting dragged away and you spot Bellamy standing next to Pike without a care in the world that Lincoln; one of his friends, was getting dragged out.

You rush over to Bellamy, anger quickly filling my veins you grab his wrist and mutter to Pike "Can you excuse us for a moment?" you don't even give him a chance to respond before dragging Bellamy to our room.

He looks confused when you first started dragging him, "Hey! what's wrong!" You ignore him.

He tries again and says, "Why are you angrily dragging me like i did something wrong?" Again. Silence.

He sighs angrily and says, "Now you're ignoring me!?" You simply roll your eyes, still angry and stay silent.

"Im so confused! What did i do!?"

The last sentence was shouted as soon as you hit the door and you soon as you shut the door the anger in you swells, the anger that has been continuously increasing these past few weeks that you ultimately end up ejecting at Bellamy with full force.

"Are you fucking serious right now Bellamy!? 'What did i do', 'What did i do wrong?' You fucking know what you did wrong!," Bellamy looks at you in surprise at the burst of anger you just threw at him and tries to interject,

"Is this about Lincoln? I really coul-" You hold your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking and also yell,

"Im not fucking finished talking Bellamy! Im gonna talk and you're gonna fucking listen! I've been feeling like shit for these past few weeks! You've been cold towards me. You've been putting Pike and your loyalty before your loyalty to your friends whos been with you when we were dropped on this planet to die! I-.. I don't know who you are anymore Bellamy, it truly hurts to say that." You feel a pool form in your eyes as you explode, your emotions feel all over the place and you can almost see how this is gonna end. And the 'end' that formed in your mind wasn't a happy ending.

Bellamy looks at you, his eyes soft, opposite to the rough and intense eyes you'd been getting these past few weeks. Bellamy opens his mouth then quickly closes it processing what you had said.

He whispers, scared that an increase of volume might get his heart broken. "Im sorry, i- i didnt mean to make you feel like that. I had no idea you felt like that."

The tears fall down your face as if youre a window on a rainy day, you look down deep in thought and prepare for the answer you might get for this next question. "Do you love me anymore Bellamy?" You say as your voice cracks. You're too afraid to look at his expression, but suddenly you feel his fingers on your chin forcing you to look up at him. He looks broken, he also had tears in his eyes.

"You think i don't love you...? How- How could you think that? I live my life for you. Anywhere you go i go. You've became a big part of my life and showed me what being truly loved is like. I love you always and forever, and i promise ill do everything to make you feel the love i feel for you." He says while crying in guilt for making her ever feel that way. How could he make her feel like that? This girl is the love of his life. The person he wanted to spend all his years with and build a family with.

"I love you Bellamy. So so much." you smile while connecting my forehead with his. "We'll get through this together." you kiss him passionately, all the anger already gone and replaced with love and happiness. See this is the boy you fell in love with.

You two passionately kiss and the kiss progressively gets deeper and more needy. He back away first, breathlessly he says, "Can i show you how much i love you? Baby let me worship you."

You nod your head and kiss him again before he picks you up and you yelp in surprise. "Maybe a warning next time" You giggle as he places you on the bed and starts to move his hands around your body making sure to touch everywhere.

Your body tingles as you feel his hands all over you. He towers over you and kisses you slowly before moving to your neck and making sweet love spots.

'Mmm Bell..' You mutter as he licks and sucks, those mutters eventually turn into moans.

"You gotta keep it down baby. Can you do that for me?" He asks as he pauses from sucking your neck. You nod and he proceeds.

You feel the warmth on your neck suddenly disappear and then you feel your pants being slid off slowly and look down to see Bellamy making eye contact while playing with your panties.

"You're so gorgeous.. how'd i get so lucky?" He says. He then rises up and removes your shirt, exposing your bra. He ends up taking that off and looking at your boobs as if he's seen a million dollars. He starts sucking on one of your nipples while kneading the other one in his hand. You whimper at the blissful sensations while making eye contact with him which just increases the nectar coming out your pussy.

He kisses the nipple he had just been sucking on and moves on to the next one making you bite your lip in pleasure whining at the good sensation.

He then moves to the valley of your breast and starts making open mouthed kisses down to the part where your panties were. He mumbles "These shouldnt be on" and rips them off.

"Hey! i liked those!" You say gasping as you feel the air on your vagina.

"Theres plenty more baby." He says while looking at you with a smirk. He then licks a long strip from your clit down to my entrance. "You're getting my fingers and my tongue today ok baby?" He says while breathing hard out his nose. You love how he still was somewhat dominant even when its supposed to be soft and him worshipping your body you still love the sense of dominance he brings.

"Yes baby thats ok." You whimper out while looking at him with anticipation. He attacks your clit first, circling your clit slowly before sucking which he repeats for a minute. He then places open mouthed kisses on your vagina as he did when he was working on your chest.

You moan at the sensations feeling it deep inside your core almost close to coming. But you didn't want to come that quick and have the night be over with already. You arch your back into his tongue while he licks and suck as if you vagina was a lollipop. You felt close and felt pure bliss ignoring the words he had once muttered earlier 'you gotta keep it down baby' well being cautious of your volume was long gone as soon as his tongue made contact with your clit.

He sucks on your clit which brings you closer to the edge. "F-fuck Bell.. im-im close!" You struggle to say, lost in the sensations and tingles your body was feeling. One last lick did the trick for you and you cum all over his tongue. He smirks and groans as he feels your hot cum. He swallows it before coming back up to kiss you, and when you kiss him you taste yourself all over his lips and tongue.

"Your moans sound amazing, i want more out of you.." He says softly before going back down and sticking a finger inside of you making you moan loudly as you arch your back with your lips parted and your eyes magically shut as he pumps in and out of you. You moan loudly calling out his name as if he was a god.

And that was how you night ended. Feeling worshiped and cared about by the man you love most. But everyone else the next day had heard you being worshiped and you calling our Bellamy's name. An embarrassment but with a good outcome.

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 🤍

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!

─────────⋆˚࿔ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────────

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist ! this one is pretty long tbh, i cannot sleep, can only write

Bellamy Blake - Dropship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You stumble across a knocked-out person, and you drag his body to your cave not knowing what to do; if only you knew what this would lead to. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, lots of plot, violence, nsfw, grounder reader

Finding unusual things in the first wasn't uncommon. In fact, it became a normal occurrence for me. I had loved studying the animals in the Trigeda, always finding them astounding, every one acting a different way, how they'd interact with each other.

It was different from how humans interacted, with the animals it was peaceful; the circle of life. And with humans it was tough, always using violence as the first means of answer, their reasoning always being 'Jus drein jus daun.'

Blood must have blood.

Lincoln had told me about the boat people, how my views and theirs didn't share many differences. But I knew I couldn't condemn my life to one stuck on the water, surrounded by miles and miles of sea and fish.

I loved the wholly green trees, and the spots of color by the flowers when a welcoming spring came; a sign of forgiveness from the harsh conditions of a rough winter just weeks before, when the animals would go into hiding.

When the Sky People initially landed it scared off the animals for miles around the drop ship, it took two weeks for them to return to their natural acts.

I knew Trikru weren't fond of the Sky People, they were like all the other clans- instantly resorting to violence and wars. They fit right in here on Earth.

So when I found a boy who bore the symbols of Skaikru in the middle of the forest unconscious, I had to do something.

I knew what they'd do to him if they found him here, and I'd never forgive myself if I let that happen knowing I could've done something.

I had tried picking him up but he was fairly heavy, and I was fairly weak. I felt bad dragging him, not knowing what lay between the grass but it was the only option I had.

Luckily for him, my cave was nearby.

I dragged him all the way inside my cave before assessing what had happened.

I felt very awkward feeling him up and down, feeling as though I was invading his personal space; which I was. But it was for the greater good.

I think.

Once I was sure he didn't have any wounds I felt his face, his freckles, and dirt hid underneath my palms as I cupped his cheeks. His temperature was high but he was breathing fine, possibly dehydration? Starvation? Either way, I couldn't do anything until he woke up.

I removed his jacket and placed it under his head as a sort of pillow while also trying to take his body temperature down I rubbed a cloth with water across his dirty face.

Once the dirt was off his features were much more prominent, his freckles littered his face with underbags like he hadn't had a good night's rest in days. My guess was either blue or green eyes.

Deciding to let him sleep I backed away from the boy. I stepped towards my meat rack and grabbed two pieces of provisions, then placed the meat on the metal rack above the smoke to get something ready for when he awoke.

It didn't take long for him to wake up, the smell of cooked meat filled the cave in a warm atmosphere.

The boy shot up, looking around cluelessly before his eyes landed on me. He instinctively grabbed for a knife, instead gripping onto nothing.

I probably should've dressed less like a grounder.

I knew little of English, only really hearing it when I went to Trikru villages or Polis.

He backed up into the cave wall, struggling to stand on his feet.

"Shhh," I spoke softly, placing my hands out in a calming manner, if I could calm animals I could calm humans right?

"Where am I?" His voice was loud and rough, it boomed off the walls of the cave.

"Cave," I simply state, grabbing my knife from my pocket as the boy's eyes widen. I knew he'd feel safer if he thought he was in control. I tossed the knife over to him, showing him I had no other weapons.

He quickly leaned in to grab it, now aiming it towards me.

"Why am I here?" His voice was less louder this time, but still fairly rough in octaves.

"Asleep in the forest,"

The dots seemed to connect in his mind as he lowered the knife, still weary about my every move.

My hand slowly went to my side, grabbing my canteen and sliding it across the floor to him.

"Drink," I demanded, giving my best trusting smile.

He kicked it back to me, untrusting the contents. If I wanted him dead I would've done it when he was asleep in the middle of the forest!

Even animals trust easier than this.

"You first," He said.

I rolled my eyes and took the canteen to my lips, taking a small sip to save the rest for him.

Sliding it once again to him he swiftly took it and drank the remaining contents in a very fast manner, like he's never tasted water that good before. His swift actions made a giggle erupt from me, making him look weirdly at me.

"Why?" He asked, placing the knife in its respective holster.

I looked at him confused, unsure of what he was referring to.

"Why save me?"

I thought about the words for a moment, unsure of how much trig he knew- or if he knew any at all.

"I am much kinder than Trikru," I said, walking towards the smoke rack. "Food, eat,"

He wasn't sure if he could trust me, even after I just saved his life, he thought I'd want some unrepayable favor back, or that I was just waiting for my leader to show up.

I sighed and walked to the wall of the cave, sitting down and leaning back on my arms. "Okay, starve," I said.

His face was one of inner debating, not taking long before getting up and taking his share of the meat.

"What's your name?" He asked, now sitting down in the same spot he was before, which was fairly close to me. Though he held the knife in his hands as he ate; I didn't mind.

"Many questions," I say with a smile, "y/n."

He never returned my smile, instead turning his expression into one of seriousness "I'm gonna have questions for the person who dragged me to this cave,"

I scoffed, "You have a knife, gonot,"

There was no use in helping someone who won't take it, it's like chasing a rabbit who doesn't wanna be chased.

The boy rolled his eyes, his head shaking as well, he knew enough to know I told him to leave. He used his knee to prop himself up, heading towards the cave entrance with one last look at me.

Brown eyes. He had deep, brown eyes.

It had been a few days since my last encounter with the brown-eyed boy. I hadn't thought about him much, only before I went to bed, when I woke up, when I was watching animals, and when I was talking to Lincoln. I'd like to think that wasn't much.

I couldn't shake the fact he hadn't even thanked me for saving his life, nobody had ever treated me with such coldness before. Especially after I help them. Maybe it was just a Skaikru thing, maybe they weren't used to common courtesy. He hadn't even told me his name.

The boy on the other hand had also been thinking of me, the grounder who saved him.

Though he didn't like that word.

Instead, he told everyone he camped out in a cave with a grounder that he held hostage. He couldn't believe the grounders were kind, not after the lives they took, the torture they put Skaikru through. But he couldn't help repeating my name in his head, repeating that day over and over.

A grounder saved him.

I wasn't sure why I was so drawn to the boy with the brown eyes, but I just knew I was.

Walking through the forest I was picking random flowers, feeling bad for them as I was ripping them from their bodies stuck to the ground, but it made great feed for the rabbits.

I was twirling the daisy between my fingers when a loud voice boomed off the barks of the trees, scaring the crows from their nests.

"Don't move!" I heard a voice yell from behind me.

My entire body froze in fear, I had never been put in a situation like this, never having made many enemies.

"Turn around, slowly!"

I did as told, moving as slowly as I could until I was face to face with a boy, this wasn't the boy from the cave, this one had bright blue eyes you could see from miles away and a messy middle part with a particularly big nose.

I felt like a deer that was spooked by hunters, everything in me was telling me to run, escape, and take my chances. But my legs wouldn't cooperate with my head. I couldn't take this guy on, I wasn't a fighter, I never learned.

He could sense the fear radiating off me, "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, grounder." He spoke with such spite as if I was a disease or plague.

I couldn't form any sentences, my heart was beating against the cage of my chest, and I prayed that anybody would come and save me.

I didn't wanna die.

I didn't wanna die before learning his name.

I was about to die and he was the first thing I was thinking of, unbelievable.

"Speak!" He shouted once again, stepping closer to me with his gun aiming towards my head.

"Murphy!" The familiar voice filled my ears.

Murphy, I'm assuming, looked back quickly before letting out an angry groan.

The brown-eyed boy appeared, and when he saw the scene he was angry.

He marched up to Murphy and grabbed ahold of his jacket, making him drop the gun.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He yelled into Murphy's face, still gripping his jacket as strong as ever, he practically lifted him up.

"Finishing the job man!" Murphy tried pushing the boy off but it was no use, fear seeped into Murphy's voice.

"Finishing the job?" He repeated though it wasn't a question.

"C'mon, Bellamy, she's just a stupid-," Murphy tried reasoning.

Bellamy.

"She's what!?" Bellamy yelled, slamming Murphy into a tree before grabbing him again, "She's what!?"

I couldn't lie to myself, seeing this side of Bellamy was attractive. Knowing he was already so protective over me, I couldn't let him kill Murphy.

"Bellamy!" I shouted.

Bellamy didn't look towards me, instead, he glared into Murphy's eyes before throwing him down and backing away towards the dropped gun.

Only then did he meet my gaze, examining me from feet away to make sure Murphy didn't harm me.

Murphy took a while to regain his composure, standing up and dusting himself off while looking between us.

"Let's go," Bellamy said, looking towards Murphy.

Bellamy stole another glance at me before leaving for their ship, leaving me standing there still processing everything.

That day came and went, and so did the next. I had begun missing Bellamy, I roamed the woods hoping I'd run into him but I never did.

I even debated on just running into their camp, but the big weaponry scared me off. All I could do was hope and pray he was okay, that Trikru hadn't gotten to him first.

I spoke with Lincoln the day after the incident, I told him about Bellamy, about Murphy. And he admitted he too saved a girl from Skaikru, she was Bellamy's sister, and she wasn't like the rest. Octavia was kind, and gentle with Lincoln, a calm contrast to the way most people had treated him.

I was happy for Lincoln, he found someone he was interested in, and it was nice to have someone relate to the same experiences I was going through.

Bellamy was worrying about me just as much as well. After the previous incident, he wasn't sure I could handle myself if another person were to threaten me. The thought alone had his blood boiling.

He wanted me there, in camp, where he knew I'd be safe. But after what happened with the grounders he didn't think the rest of the camp would like that idea.

He tried everything to go outside the walls, to even catch a glimpse of me but he knew the camp needed him there now. The wall wouldn't build itself. He'd always find his mind coming back to me, carefree picking flowers and talking to the animals.

Most would find it crazy but he found it mesmerizing. In such a dark world there was such beauty, and I knew how to find it in even the darkest of times.

I was in my cave when I heard someone call me.

"y/n."

It was Lincoln.

I smiled when I saw him, Lincoln was one of my best friends, well, my only best friend.

"Yea?" I ask, walking up to him, his expression is a mix of anger and worry.

"They're going to attack tonight, the bridge,"

Lincoln didn't need to explain further for me to know what he was talking about.

Trikru was going to march on Skaikru.

I needed to warn them.

I swiftly ran past Lincoln, but he quickly grabbed my arm.

"Lincoln! I need to-"

"Be safe."

I gave him a nod before rushing off to the drop ship, my mind only worrying about Bellamy and his people. With every step, the sky got darker, and my legs began to get sore but I had to push through.

And then I saw it.

The big wooden fence made of scraps.

"Grounder!" I heard one of the men atop the wall yell. "Don't move!"

Bellamy was the first to open the doors, his face turned to one of surprise, but I didn't have time for reunions.

"Don't shoot! She is safe!" Bellamy yelled.

I ran to him, "Bellamy," I looked into his eyes, "They're attacking soon, from the bridge," His expression dropped to a more serious look.

"We know," He said, "Ravens working on a bomb right now,"

My face must've contorted enough for him to notice.

"For the bridge," He finished with a smile.

A breath of relief passed through my lips.

"Come in, I'll catch you up."

It took him an hour to explain everything, from Murphy going missing to him returning with a temporary sickness infecting everyone but the immune. It was something Trikru did to thin out the battlefield, my heart felt for all the souls who couldn't make it past the sickness.

"Bellamy!" I heard a girl from outside his tent call, he gave me a look before exiting the tent and I curiously followed, receiving stares from everyone around us.

"Raven? What's up?" He asked Raven, she had a tan complexion with a high ponytail.

"We did it, now we just need to make it there and shoot it."

Bellamy nodded, "I'll do it,"

I immediately looked towards him, "No!"

"I have to, it's for my people," He said, now looking down towards me.

I couldn't stand the thought of possibly losing him, what if something went wrong and he never came back?

"There isn't any other way?" I pleaded, worry evident in my face and tone.

"Our other shooters are too sick and I'm the last good shot," His hands went to my arms in a comforting matter, "I'll be back before you even know it."

His words did little to calm my worries, but I knew he was set on his decision. All I could do was nod in reply.

Raven handed him a sniper and mixture, "Pour the gunpowder around the jelly, then run far away."

With every word she spoke, I could feel the fear and sadness crawl up my spine.

Bellamy was ready to leave but before he did he looked at me before approaching another boy "If anything happens to her, they answer to me, got it?"

The boy nodded his head in reply.

I watched as he left the gates and as they slowly closed behind him, the anxiety growing within everyone in the camp. If Bellamy failed, it was over for everyone else as well.

For the next few hours, I stayed in Bellamy's tent, lying in his bed and curled up under his blanket which still smelled like him. I was beyond worried for him, I hadn't known him long but I deeply cared for him.

"Don't think I just forgot." I heard a voice say, now entering the tent. It was Murphy.

The same scared feeling returned throughout my body.

"What do you want?" I ask, sitting up off the bed, trying to seem as tough as possible knowing deep down I was terrified of the man standing in front of me.

"You made me look weak!" He shouted at me, his grip on the knife becoming stronger as his knuckles clouded over with a white shade.

"I don't know what you mean," I tried defending myself, Murphy stepped closer and brought the knife to my throat. The cold metal sent shivers and goosebumps down my body.

I wanted so desperately to defend myself, to take action, but I just couldn't.

"Shouldve done it when I had the chance,"

"Done what," Bellamy said before entering.

I almost started crying at the sight of Bellamy, his curly hair now matted in the dirt, but he never looked more handsome.

Murphy instantly dropped the knife and turned around, the moment he did Bellamy's fist locked with Murphy's face, making him scramble on the ground. Bellamy grabbed Murphy by the collar of his jacket and dragged him to the gate, not even letting him get up.

What scared me most is the fact Bellamy hadn't said a word since he found us.

The gates opened and he threw Murphy to the ground, giving him a nice kick to go with it.

Once Murphy was out of the way the gates closed, everyone watching in worry and fear as whispers erupted from the crowd.

Nobody had ever protected me like Bellamy had, I felt more safe with him than I've ever felt before.

Bellamy wasted no time in returning to the tent, seeing me wait there for him.

I ran into his arms and cupped his cheeks, locking our lips together finally.

His hands snaked down to my lower back, pulling me closer into his embrace as he led me to the bed laying me down gently.

I pulled away to catch my breath and he took this time to shrug his jacket off.

"I missed you," I said breathily, smiling up at him while he took his shirt off, revealing his toned chest which I swiftly ran my hands over, feeling every crevice, wanting to engrave the feeling into the pads of my fingers.

"I missed you too, princess," He returned my smile slyly, sneaking his hands under my top and sliding it off with ease, revealing my bare chest as he looked in complete awe.

Being under his gaze made my face flush with a deep red, suddenly feeling vulnerable, it didn't take him long to get his hands working up and down my body, feeling over my breasts and sides before slipping my pants down slowly revealing my soaked cunt, I bit my lip at the coldness meeting my warm pussy.

Bellamy let out a groan, feeling his bulge harden against his tight jeans. Tossing my jeans to the side he slid his fingers in between my slit, coating his fingers in the juices and trailing them up my thighs.

"This fine, princess?" He asked, staring into my eyes with his beautiful brown eyes.

I nodded my head quickly, needing this more than anything at the moment.

I heard his belt unbuckle and his zipper become undone. His hands grabbed my thighs and spread them open before lining himself up with my hole.

Bellamy let out a soft groan after only pressing his tip into me, he slowly pushed deeper into me causing sweet moans and pants to fill the tent.

It was the sweetest sound Bellamy had ever heard, he needed to hear more.

Once Bellamy was fully inside me he began slowly grinding his hips into me, not wanting to fully pull out. The feeling was ecstatic, unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

My hands reached for anything to grab onto, landing on his arms I grabbed onto them as the pain flooded my body from the abuse my sweet spot was going through.

"Doing so good," Bellamy groaned out, grabbing ahold of my hips while my legs wrapped around his waist. He gazed at the facial expressions I was making, the faster he pounded the better they got to him.

Bellamy wanted to be rough with me, to thrust into me until I couldn't take it anymore, but he knew he needed to be gentle with me. At least for now.

His grip on my hips forced me to stay still, unable to properly arch my back making him hit the deepest spots in me. I knew I couldn't last, I knew my climax was reaching me this soon.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... Bell!" I moaned out loudly, my climax washing over my body as I shook in Bellamy's grip.

The tightening of my pussy drove Bellamy crazy, he couldn't be gentle, not like this, not when I was below him being so irresistible.

His slow thrusts soon turned rough and fast, each thrust ending with wet and lewd sounds.

Tears began streaming down my cheeks at the overstimulation, my hands going to his chest trying to push him away but my attempts were futile.

"Just keep looking pretty under me," Bellamy said, his eyes not looking away from my face, only taking quick glances toward my breasts.

His praises were addicting, making my legs start to shake erratically.

His face was coated in a thin layer of sweat, causing his skin to shine as the light from the small lantern lit the side of his face, I wanted to remember this moment forever, him above me making me feel so insanely good; better than anyone could ever make me feel.

Bellamy's hand trailed up my body and to my neck, he squeezed lightly giving him a better angle to fuck into me.

The pressure on my neck was enough to make me cum again, my body shook uncontrollably as another orgasm washed over me, painting Bellamy's cock in a thick white layer, making it easier to slip in and out of me.

Bellamy was close to his own climax, chasing the high.

"All mine, all mine," He breathed out, leaning down and kissing my neck while giving light squeezes to my neck.

His groans became louder in my ear, and it wasn't long before I felt him pull out and finish all over my stomach.

He leaned into my shoulder and caught up with his breath, smiling into my neck and breathing me in.

"You did so good," His voice was rough, a slight contrast from before.

He stood up slowly and grabbed a nearby cloth to clean me up, discarding it after.

"You're okay?" Bellamy asked sweetly, while I crawled into a more comfortable position on his bed.

"Mhm, lay with me," I said meekly.

Bellamy smiled at the sight of me curled up in his bed, he crawled in beside me and pulled me closer to him.

"Stay here with me," He whispered, stroking my hair lovingly.

"What if Murphy comes back?"

He thought for a moment, "For you? I'd banish him a thousand times over,"

I smiled up at him, placing a small kiss on his lips.

"I'll stay then,"

With Bellamy's fingers stroking my hair, the heat coming from our bodies, and the safety I felt beside him, I drifted off to sleep.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[maysileeewrites]

a helping hand - John Murphy x reader

Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something! 

AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it! 

You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red. 

Blood. 

There’s just so much of it. 

You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help. 

You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm. 

A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. 

When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut. 

You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp. 

After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be. 

But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance. 

You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter. 

Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for. 

So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you. 

„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression. 

„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“ 

He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“ 

You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“ 

He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further. 

You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth. 

All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. 

Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips. 

Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him. 

„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ 

„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark. 

And fuck. This - this is dangerous. 

That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“ 

„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs. 

„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness. 

„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location. 

You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location. 

Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy. 

Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip. 

Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing. 

„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“ 

Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression. 

„And I know that won’t change anything-“

„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“ 

Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody. 

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it. 

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest. 

You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“ 

Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation. 

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain. 

„Let me“, you say, helping him. 

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly. 

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“ 

You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze. 

Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“ 

You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him. 

„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“

Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up. 

Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches. 

Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him. 

You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“ 

Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods. 

You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“ 

You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending. 

Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“

He stops talking then, shaking his head. 

„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any. 

„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“ 

„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of. 

He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“

„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“ 

Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything. 

But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.

Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain. 

You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind. 

„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“ 

With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words. 

Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe. 

„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation. 

„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck. 

You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh. 

Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.

Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good. 

And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that. 

Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours. 

„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss. 

Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“ 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly. 

„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again. 

You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“ 

Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“ 

„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again. 

You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well. 

Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy. 

[petertingle-yipyip]

MOONLIGHT - BELLAMY BLAKE

Pairing: Bellamy x reader

Word Count: 2,247

Summary: A quick hunting run goes bad so you’re forced to make a choice, but as expected, Bellamy is on your side. Finding some quiet afterwards allows a kinder moment amongst the chaos of the Ground.

Benefit of being older than The 100, they for the most part saw you as an authority figure. There were some that saw you as an equal and it all made no difference to you.

You were on the Ground. You were with people you cared about. Ultimately, you still won.

Everything seemed okay until one day, you were out with a small group that Bellamy assigned for you to hunt with. You had just thrown the small, handmade knife at the creature that you hadn’t even fully identified. Before you could get closer and regather your weapon, you were shoved from behind.

You hit face first against a tree and your skin burned with the new scrape. A hand landed on each arm and two hit at the base of your shoulders to pull your arms back while keeping you pressed against the rough bark.

“What the hell is this?” You asked angrily, jerking against the grip. It did nothing to free you, only anger the new marks on your cheek.

“Now that we’re far enough from camp, Bellamy can’t come to your rescue.” Murphy said from behind you. “We’ve come to a decision.”

“Great way to start.” You muttered, to which a new hand landed on the back of your head and pushed down to drag your face along the surface. You bit down the sound as you felt the new tears across your skin. “What do you want?” You asked loudly instead.

“We want you off the hunting team.” He answered flatly.

“What? Why? I’m the best hu-”

“You’re not the best.” He laughed. “You slow us down, actually. Just because you’re with Bellamy doesn’t mean you can get in my way.”

“You’re a goddamn idiot. Are you that self-centered that you can’t see this has nothing to do with Bellamy? I can track. I aced Earth botany. I can handle a blade better than any of you.”

They pulled you back and slammed you against the tree again.

“Everyone else is gonna starve because of your arrogance.” You warned.

“I think they’ll be fine.” He said and you just barely see the smirk. “You should worry about yourself.”

“Alright, fine.” You conceded.

It just wasn’t worth the fight.

“What was that?”

“Fine.” You said louder and your arms were released. “I’ll talk to Bellamy when we get back.”

“And this is your idea, right?”

You ground your teeth. “Right.”

Murphy smiled in triumph and gestured for you to guide the way. The other two went to gather the dead animal that you had nearly forgotten about. As they were dragging the carcass by, you stopped to free your knife and shove it back under your belt. You pressed gentle fingers against your cheek and felt the thin bunches of peeled skin accompanied with the slick feeling of fresh blood.

You kept your head down as you reentered camp. The boys were met with proud cheers and you were more worried about keeping your face hidden that you ran into Octavia.

“Hey.” She greeted before reaching for your shoulder. “What the hell happened out there?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “Where’s Bell?”

“Either in his tent or the Dropship. Y/N, what-“

“And Clarke?”

She sighed slightly, as if realizing you weren’t going to talk about it.

“Her tent.”

“Great, thanks.” You smiled quickly but her frown froze you for a second longer. “Don’t tell your brother?”

“He’s gonna see your face.” She complained.

“I know but by then, I’ll have an excuse. Please, Octavia.”

“Fine.” She sighed and you heard Bellamy’s voice in the distance.

“Thank you.” You nodded and ducked again before pushing through the crowd gathering to see what the team brought back.

You pushed into Clarke’s tent and there she was with Finn.

“I need your help.” You confessed and gestured to your face.

“Y/N, oh my god!” She exclaimed and ushered you to sit beside her.

You dropped cross-legged on the floor and shrugged your jacket off. Your hands landed in your lap as you allowed Clarke to move your face by your chin.

“This has gone too far.” She scolded.

“This was Murphy again?” Finn asked from Clarke’s side, shooting you wide and worried eyes.

“Yeah.” You admitted. “They want me off hunting, said I slow them down.” You mocked before blowing a sigh. “It’s not worth the fight anymore.”

“If you come off hunting, they’re gonna have to go more often. They don’t bring in enough when it’s just them.”

“They don’t care.” You shrugged. “But between them slamming into me, tripping me, pushing me, and now scratching the hell outta my face, I’m done with their little power plays. They wanna hunt so bad, be my guest.”

“What are you gonna tell Bellamy?” Clarke asked as she gently pressed a torn cloth to the sticky wounds and you winced. “Not much we can do to hide these.”

“That I’m too clumsy? Or I’m bored? I don’t know but I can’t tell him it was their idea. I get enough shit for the whole ‘king and queen’ thing.”

“He’s gonna lose his shit if he finds out. I mean, you heard what he did to Atom for kissing Octavia.” Finn continued. “Can’t imagine what he’d do to them for this.”

“I know.” You agreed and began to untie the braid you had done to keep your hair out of the way while you were hunting. “Hence why I have to convince him it’s my idea.”

“What’s your idea?” Bellamy spoke as he entered the tent and you jumped, shoving the cloth away and dropping your gaze down so your hair would hide your face.

“Finn, help me find the extra seaweed from the river that we used on Jasper.” Clarke said and you looked up at her in a panic. “I think it’ll help.” She offered genuinely.

“Help with what?” Bellamy asked. “Something happen out there?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, Clarke.” You said through tight teeth and you subtly jerked your head towards Bellamy. “Don’t leave now.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N?” Bellamy asked, now kneeling in front of you.

You heard the two sets of feet leave and you sighed to yourself. With no other options, you tucked your hair out of the way and looked up to face him. You watched his eyes scan your face and linger on the still burning wounds on the side of your face. His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath before he took one of your hands in his.

“Who was it?” He asked lowly, staring at your joined hands.

“I tripped.” You lied and his shoulders shook slightly with a quiet laugh of disbelief. “Really, Bell. It’s fine.”

“Who did this to you, Y/N?” He urged, meeting your eyes. The anger in his stare could’ve burned a hole through the Ark.

“It…” You sighed and understood that there was no way that lie would work. “I don’t know who it was. They came up behind me and hit me against the roughest tree in the damn forest, apparently… But it does bring up something we need to talk about.”

He nodded for you to continue.

“I think, for a little while at least, I need to be off the hunting team.” You spoke carefully, treading lightly to avoid incriminating Murphy - despite deeply wanting to - and pissing off Bellamy more than he already was. “Something’s happened on almost every trip and it’s not productive.”

“What else has happened?” His brows furrowed.

Carefully, you lifted your shirt to show the bruise on your ribs from where Murphy had shoulder-checked you into a thick fallen tree trunk. Then you shifted the waistband in your pants to show the small collections of pricks from where Murphy pushed you into a small thorned bush. You flipped your lower lip to show the deep purple patch from the low hanging branch Murphy smacked you with. You pulled down the collar of your shirt to show your chest, littered with bruises and small knicks from the various falls you’d suffered by Murphy’s design.

“Just let Murphy lead them for a while.” You shrugged.

“They can’t feed this camp without you.” Bellamy shook his head. “What you brought in today will last us three or four days. They can barely get us through two.”

“Then send others with them to make up for it. I don’t know what you want from me, Bell.”

“I want you to tell me the truth.” He urged gently, though the demand didn’t go unnoticed. “One of those guys out there do this to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You sighed. “Tell me you agree.”

“I will when you tell me the truth.”

“Bellamy.” You groaned, drawing out his name.

He raised his eyebrows with a tilt of his head and you pursed your lips to form a small pout. The stare down only lasted for a few seconds before you broke and stared at your hands, safely tucked away within his grasp.

You knew you were safe with Bellamy. You could tell him anything, that much he always promised you. But Murphy was crafty, sneaky. He’d find a way to get to you when Bellamy wasn’t looking.

Yet if you told Bellamy, maybe he would be looking more often.

“Murphy and I got into an argument.” You began, carefully choosing your words. “We went back and forth and then I got shoved. I don’t know if he orchestrated it or if someone was just being opportunistic but I can’t keep this up. I’m tired and my body hurts and I just need a break.”

He nodded slightly, clearly still processing your words. You watched his eyes for some sort of hint to his reaction, but he was guarded in his thought process. His put a hand on your unmarked cheek and his thumb stroked your cheekbone gently.

“Okay.” He said quietly.

“That’s it?” You quirked a brow. “No trying to convince me otherwise?”

“No.” He laughed slightly. “Y/N, you’ve been out there fighting for us and taking all sorts of beatings. If that’s what you want, let Murphy get kicked around for a while.” He shrugged.

At that, you laughed.

Bellamy made the announcement later that day that you were taking a small break from hunting. You’d agreed to help build the wall while your latest injuries healed and offered to go wherever you were needed. No one said anything otherwise and you were glad it was an easy change.

Murphy and his friends walked by with mock salutes or bows, muttering about the king and queen. You wanted to put your knife in them right there but Bellamy was smooth in draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, even angling his body slightly in front of yours.

Once night came, you found yourself sitting on a log a few feet outside the wall. You had one leg up and your arms wrapped around it, head leaning against the side of your knee. Your eyes were upwards, counting the stars and trying to see the craters on the moon.

“Didn’t see enough space on the Ark?” Bellamy asked as he sat beside you.

“It’s different from here.” You reasoned. “It all seems so far away.”

“Yeah… You sure you’re alright?”

“Long live the king and queen.” You mocked. “They’re so stupid.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Us being together isn’t the only factor in us taking charge around here. We’re older. We’re smarter. We-“ You looked over and saw he was staring, soft eyes and a small smile on his lips. “Alright, lover boy. Are you even listening?” You laughed slightly.

“No.” He confessed with a laugh of his own. “I got distracted.”

“By what?” You were still smiling.

“Your eyes. The way they reflect the moonlight.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed and your teasing smile became one of slight embarrassment.

“Every look, especially right now, makes me wanna give you… Everything.”

“Everything?” Your brows raised and you shifted to face him.

He reached for your hand and you gave it to him immediately.

“You are the queen after all.” He joked and you scoffed with a smile, pushing lightly at his chest.

“Aren’t you hilarious?” You said sarcastically before turning your face back to the sky. “I’ve always loved the moon, y’know. But down here, it’s like you can hold the moonlight.”

You reached your other hand out and cupped it, letting the moonlight illuminate your palm and fingers. You leaned back against Bellamy’s chest and he draped an arm over your shoulder, still keeping hold of your hand. You felt his chin on the other side and you let your head fall back a bit.

You understood exactly what he meant just a few moments ago. You wanted to give him everything too.

“Bell?” You asked simply.

“Mmm?” He hummed against the skin of your neck.

“You kinda remind me of moonlight.” You said simply.

“How?”

You shrugged slightly. “Different on the Ground. Beautiful and illuminating. Everyone looks at the moon and some love it, but the moon shines based on the sun. And when it does…”

“If I’m your moonlight, does that mean you’re my sunshine?” He asked and you wondered if he was serious or just teasing.

“Do you only light up ‘cause of me?”

“That’s why Octavia says.” He smiled at you. “I wouldn’t doubt it either.”

You smiled softly. “Then I guess so.”

[3dfrost]

The End of Handmade Sex Toys on Etsy

I wrote an article about Etsy's ban on sex toys.

I’ve bought a lot of my toys through Etsy, including some of my favorites like Adventurer from Masterwork Toys and Cyerce Symbiote from Xenocat Artifacts. It’s been an easy way to browse and find new sex toys. For a number of years, it was a great, quality marketplace where you could reliably find indie silicone toys.

Over the past couple years, though, Etsy’s thrown their handmade products commitment to the wind. Now, after years of providing an online home for independent makers (and profiting from the platform fees), Etsy is shuttering all of that and leaving makers with only a month to scramble for a plan B.

Some sex toy shops exclusively hosted on Etsy will shut down. Some sex toy shops that are cross-hosted on Etsy will shut down; some have indicated that the vast majority of their sales come from Etsy and they’re not going to be able to make up the difference.

Is Etsy banning sex toys as an easy way to wipe dropshipped sex toys without employing enough staff to identify what’s handmade vs. what’s not? Are they trying to reduce risk across the board? Are they concerned about getting caught under any of these age verification laws? Are they facing pressure from payment processors and credit card companies?

I don’t have the answer, but whatever the cause, the problems extend beyond Etsy.

[strawberryforks]

whatever the hell we want // bellamy blake x reader

summary: reader didn’t care much for living, the eldest blake sibling made it worthwhile, even enjoyable

warnings: angst, suicidal thoughts/ideation, swearing

word count: 1908

a/n: this one is a bit heavy. i was having a bad day so i will apologize for turning the cutesy “how did bellamy and reader meet” request into this emotional abomination (sorry)

you probably should have been excited to be on the ground. it was that or being floated–tossed into a lock sealed door, trapped, and taunted with the faces of whatever loved ones chose to say goodbye (you didn’t have to worry about that, the only family you had, you met in lock up–your bio dad, marcus kane, was awful and on days that ended in ‘y’, you opted to pretend he didn’t exist) before another door would open and you’d be sucked out into space. the little oxygen in your lungs would tear them apart. what had sustained you for so long would then be your downfall. what you needed to breath would kill you.

you’d be so hot, so hot as your blood boiled and so hot as you died, staring out at the stars you loved so much. you were nineteen, the oldest prisoner to be alive and on the arc, but even kane’s powers had their limits. in three days you would be floated. three days until that would be your fate and still.

still.

when you woke up on that dropship you were pissed. it was the first thing you were mad about.

with a forever fuck-it attitude, you unbuckled your seat. floating around with a few others you ignored your best friend when she told you “sit back down, dumbass!” you cracked a grin and then the lights flickered.

while entering the new atmosphere something went wrong—something malfunctioned. maybe the shutes didn’t deploy or maybe you were just lucky but when the screaming started, you didn’t hear it for more than a few seconds because you were flung into one of the metal walls, just above the seats, and your vision spotted before going disappearing completely. sounds dulled, everything dulled. you were probably dying, you smiled because of that

when you landed, you woke up. that was the second thing you were mad about.

you were suspended in the air in some kind of fabric. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, not until you attempted to stretch your stiff limbs and found the material twisting. it spat you out on the ground and you made a noise. it bubbled from the back of your throat, expressing your obvious upset, you lifted your hand to touch your cheekbone–it was throbbing and you had the vague memory of your face slamming into the dropship wall. at fucking nineteen, you weren’t supposed to have to deal with any of this. you should’ve been floated a long damn time ago, would’ve like to have been too. you were the oldest prisoner on the ark, only alive because of who your daddy was. the daughter of marcus kane (you hate him as much as the next person) you’d been spared. he tended to get what he wanted.

where you lie, a boy does across from you on another makeshift bed. you lean over him, study him. He has some features you recognize. freckles and long eyelashes. you’re peering over him, observing, when those eyelashes lift and he’s blinking up at you. you scoot backwards not wanting to bang heads (yours was quite tender).

the hand that you have been absentmindedly feeling around your face with, came away with no blood coating, “i’m ocatavia’s brother, bellamy.” bellamy blake, okay. you’d heard of him and despite never meeting him before, the stories octavia had told you, mostly about how he protected her and made life under the floor less horrendous, you decided he was safe.

you glance at him, not all that hesitant. your best friend was a force and if she left you alone, in here, with him, he was trustworthy. your lips are pressed into a tight line. you don’t need to introduce yourself, he already knows. of course he does. you assure yourself he knows because you’re his little sister’s best friend and not because you’re kane’s daughter, the one who killed a man and got away scot free. you had a damn good reason but the ark’s justice system was lacking.

you tell yourself he isn’t judging you, he doesn’t look like he is, but you know you deserve to be judged so it’s a losing battle.

you glance down at your wrist and see it’s bare. the band that transmits your vitals to the ark is missing, and when you look at his wrist, you realise he isn’t wearing one either. “lost in the rough landing?” you ask, with a lilt to your voice.

his shoulders shake as he laughs a little. “something like that.”

you sit back up and climb back into your hammock. this time your hands are both out beside you to stabilise yourself. it’s quiet for a moment, the tent dark enough you know it’s night time. “why’d you take it?” you asked, unable to stop your curiosity.

“the ark hasn’t done anything for us. they sent us down here to die, because we’re expendable. in their eyes we’re just repaying them.”

oh. so your dad probably thinks you’re dead right now. that doesn’t unsettle you as much as it would the average person–actually you don’t mind it at all. let him learn what it means to fail, to lose, in some permanent way. let him face the brunt of the consequences his actions wrought for once. maybe this sentence would be the one to ruin him.

you stare at the pitch of the tent. are we on earth right now? is it safe? did the others survive? what happens now? your mind is flooded with questions.

“you think loudly.” bellamy informs.

“i’ve been out for awhile, huh?” in response, he nodded. “is it okay? is everyone okay?”

“they are. you almost weren’t though. that stunt you pulled? it was a whole different level of dumb.”

it’s peaceful until sunrise when the screaming starts. Guttural moans and groans echo from within the camp. “That’s jasper,” bellamy supplies while you’re rubbing your head, all but pleading with the ache to subside.

then octavia’s bursting through the tent flaps, “i knew i heard voices!” she pulls you outside with her and just… woah. everything is brighter. unlike the monotones on the ark there’s all kinds of colours. blue sky, green tress. they’re so green and so many different shades. light, dark, sage, evergreen. you’ve never seen anything so beautiful, other than your stars. you miss them, and looking up at the sky you can’t see them only clouds–white floating cotton that moves with the wind. you’re on earth and you don’t know if you belong here but in all fairness you didn’t belong on that spaceship either. the only place you thought might be a good fit for you was now miles upon miles away. a good thing, if you asked octavia.

the “whatever the hell we want” movement was one you supported quickly and joined even quicker. bellamy and his buddies at its forefront you figured, why not. you liked to fight, so thats what you did. you threw punches and received them and slaps to the face. It satiated you need to self destruct and would until bellamy or octavia intervened. you didn’t quite care for danger and took as many guard and patrol shifts as you could. you liked carrying a weapon, liked exploring, and hated being cooped up and confined.

you were walking away from the wall, alone this time, with no particular destination in mind. sometimes you brought octavia with you but she was busy talking and flirting (not in that particular order) her brother never liked when she joined in on your adventures so it was probably better that she wasn’t with you.

“not dragging my sister along with you this time?” a familiar voice chided. bellamy blake. speak of the devil and he shall appear.

you shrug your shoulders and continue walking. “not this time, no.”

“hey! come back. where the hell do you think you’re going.”

“i haven’t decided yet. maybe the river. maybe the caves. maybe, it’s none of your business,” you respond dryly, still walking ahead. his hand clamps down on your arm and he stops you from moving further, “what, bellamy? what?” his eyes, alight with fire, something you’ve seen in your best friend once or twice, full of curiosity, and understanding, meet your own. he gazes into your dead ones, takes a look at your blank expression and bends down. a hand grips the backs of your thighs and then he’s picking you up. you’re slung over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and had you not been so emotionally empty you would've been incredibly impressed. “what the hell bellamy? what are you doing?”

“whatever the hell i want, though, that? it doesn’t apply to you anymore, not when you don’t know what you want,”

“i do,” you argue.

“not when what you want isn’t anything good.” he fires back.

and that’s how you met bellamy blake. at first you hated him, hated how he drug you along wherever he went–patrol was nice but he would insist on bringing you everywhere, even on the most pointless errands. to do the most boring things. he made you drag logs to help reinforce the wall and sometimes he didn’t even help. prison warden or friend, who fucking knew?

but bellamy kept you busy. kept you distracted from the brewing storm in your head.

you got used to him. bellamy blake became your new normal and even made you smile a few times, usually when firelight was reflecting off of both of your cheeks as you roasted your dinner. the first time, you sat on a log beside him, your supper sitting inside of the flames, blackening. he went to grab the stick from you–probably guessing you were attempting to light yourself on fire, or that you’d begun to dissociate. you snatch the stick back. “it’s burning,” he warns, voice having a sharp edge.

“sorry if i would rather taste charcoal than two headed, six tailed, mutated squirrel.”

that night he held you. you let him.

close to his chest and away from any and all danger, you slept soundly and dreamlessly for the first time in years. the sleep–it helped with your mood, too.

bellamy held you again. he always liked to hold you—to have a hand in yours or resting on your shoulder. this time, the touch wasn’t comforting, to assure himself that you were real and not going anywhere. this time that physical touch was the only reason you weren’t going anywhere. his grip was tighter, thank god.

the grounders were coming an the only way to stop them or at least to slow them down was to blow up the bridge. you needed to place the bomb but everyone was terrified to let you go, bellamy especially. you did what you had to, sneaking away and setting it. you were scared–you didn’t know when it happened, when you started wanting to live, but it was a soul-deep change that you knew had something to do with the blake siblings. specifically bellamy, who’s companionship you hadn’t wanted but needed more than anything.

you placed the bomb on the bridge and detonated it, running as fast as you could as the moss covered stone crumbled behind you. the structural integrity was giving away and you were so close tot he edge but… you started to fall. you closed your eyes, pressed them shut as tightly as you could and then that hand was there.

bellamy’s. closed around your wrist and holding on for all he was worth. your heart beat so hard in your chest you had to look down to make sure you hadn’t been speared by a grounder, and that it wasn’t leaking out.

you loved him and you were so thankful he never listened to you. when you said you didn’t need him, when earlier, you shouted at him and told him not to follow you–it was a weak distraction but now, he pulled you back onto solid ground and wrapped you in his arms and you had no regrets. none at all. well… you had one, but it was easily rectified.

it was a struggle, pushing him away at the shoulders, holding him at arms length and seeing the worry on his face all over again. it was a struggle but when you stopped regretting things and dove back in, moulding your lips together in a passionate kiss, everything was better. bell’s hand palmed your cheek and pulled you impossibly closer as yours moved through his hair.

[urlocaldesertdweller]

Venture x GN! Reader (who is equally as silly)

OH MY GOD. holy crap thank you, everyone, for liking my two posts of Venture content! There’s to my first 50+ likes, fellow venture lovers!!! Fluff through and through, a lil cringy at the end srry :,)

We all know that overwatch is a pretty serious group of people dealing with serious business with missions n stuff, which makes Sloan's happy-go-lucky attitude make them stick out like a sore thumb. But ever since you joined you made them feel less like the odd one out, almost instancing forming an unbreakable bond between the you guys!!

I'd imagine Sloan getting a scolding from most likely Sojourn yelling their ear off about how they need to take missions more seriously. But Sloan's mind would most likely go, "Well it isn't my fault for everyone being such a gloomy sack of potatoes!! I'm sorry that I'm naturally happy okay!?"

But lo and behold when you enter the picture on your first mission together they watch and take note of almost everything you do from the dropship, considering that you were seeming also sticking out like a sore thumb as well...

From you biting your nails in front of everyone, trying to make easy conversation with ice breakers...which you get either nicely or coldly turned down, and seemingly managing to find a positive view with a beaming grin...even after getting rejected for making acquaintances. Oh my, to Sloan this felt like true love with watching you perk up and make your way towards them with an open hand and nice smile...was that a small tooth gap.?

"...Hey, friend! Is this your first mission.?"

It takes a short second to process the contrast before they lean in to shake your hand with a smile revealing their chipped tooth.

"Actually I've been on a few before! But I'll be real with you buddy..."

They lean in even closer to whisper in your ear with a snicker.

"This is my first time seeing someone so friendly and chipper as you throughout the missions i've been through..!"

They pull back with a wink chuckling to which you give a quick nod winking back with making fun of how gloomy missions can truly get with the worst teammates.

"Ugh yeah, I know right.?! Like this is a mission, not your grandma's funeral!! Are Overwatch agents usually so dark and mysterious like them.?"

They slap a hand to their mouth holding back a laugh which results in a loud snort echoing in the small dropship, making some of your other teammates turn their heads, scoff, and turn away. Sloan worried that you'd turn away from their snort and embarrass both of you...instead, you laugh along with them and wrap an arm around them pulling Sloan into a giggling side hug ignoring anything around them until the mission starts...

From that day forward the two of you have been the closest of friends ever since! In fact, you two are so close that you both would beg to Sojourn in her office, crying with puppy eyes asking to have you and Sloan become and share a duo bunker. If it were not for the mix of your determination and Sojourn's lack of caffeine in her system...she finally waves the both of you off with a sigh.

"Alright, fine you two can share a duo bunker! Just pray that this change doesn't cause any further problems or trouble...because I will separate you two."

With shouts and skips of excitement fluttering in both your hearts. Usually, the normal agent takes under a week to move all of their stuff into a different bunker, but with you guys? You and Sloan managed to move everything in under 1.5 days into your brand new bunker where you grow all the closer to Sloan, just barely tipping over the edge of romantic levels, but neither of you would get all too shy and dumb to even think about love between the two of you.

You would share stories of your childhood, discussions of interests, and literally anything crazy dumb enough can be a part of your conversations with Sloan...

"Do you think that in another universe we could've been supervillains that absolutely hate each other guts.?"

"Nah, I'm thinking about if we could still be friends in a Lego world..."

"...Wait what..?"

Basically have the random conversations that would flow like water, some agents would overhear your talks and genuinely question if you and Sloan were on something...

The bunker would be covered in anything you guys share and love from everything in interests and hobbies from the floor to the ceiling. If you remember in my most recent post talking about Sloan gifting you a decorated rock like Rosetta.? Yeah Sloan definitely gifts you one (cough and definitely gifts it to you, they constantly think about it as a secret proposal of love for u). Then over time after tiring missions, you guys would plan a date for decorating smaller rocks as the growing family between Rosetta and your rock.!! And y'all seem to never stop with the arrangement of rock children.

"This one is gonna be named Rosie after her parent! She gonna have one eye and pink hair just like your Rosetta.!!!"

"...At this point why you don't call her Rosetta Jr.?"

"... Because Sloan. Then I'd have to call her Rosetta Jr 2!!"

"Oh yeah...But what if you then called her Rosetta Jr...The Sequel.?!"

Going back to the topic of missions. You are basically glued to each other hip to hip! And you always have small conversations...of course, if another willing friendly teammate wanted to join you Sloan would welcome them with open arms! Other than casual talk, Sloan would 100% hype you up and you'd do the same of course, if there were any worries Sloan would be there to calm you. Your teammates would groan seeing how you are still only friends at this point...

Of course, during the actual mission, this is one of the few exceptions where you two can separate in certain situations. Of course silly nicknames for the enemy team, goobers, goons, bozos, etc. Always calling out if a threat is coming from behind them, and after if they were to get any injuries of course you'd be there to patch them up on the way back to base.

"Aye aye...Sloan, you just couldn't help but dive into that group of talon goons couldn't you.?!"

You huff frustrated but you can't help but chuckle considering that they managed to only walk out of that fight with sprained wrist, a black eye, and some minor scratches scattered over their body.

"Sorry buddy! I guess it was just me in the heat of the battle! You know how it can be right.? Remember when you tried to flank and you ended up getting kicked hard in the stomach.?! Ha!"

They bite back recalling your own mishaps during missions as you let out a sigh finishing up their injuries and giving them a playful slap on their side, you think of a way to get back as you make your way from the launch pad to your bunkers.

"Oh yeah.? If you remember that moment 3 months ago.? Two can play that game! I remember hearing whisper to the rocks about how much you just looovvee me....you ain't slick Sloan."

They stop and walk beside you watching your back as you saunter back to your shared bunker their face growing hot and red and heart racing...how could they slip up a thing like that in front of you.?!

"...WAIT YOU KNOW???"

They shout at you all too stunned at the moment to care who's listening. To which you turn back walking backwards with a smile showing your tooth gap making them loosen at the situation.

"It's okay Sloan!! I love you t-!"

You are unable to finish your sentence as you trip over yourself while walking backwards and your back your smile quickly fading as you feel the air leave your lungs with a loud oof. To which makes Sloan go through a short roller coaster of emotions but they snort and burst out laughing and jog towards you offer their hand to pull you up from the floor.

"Now that wasn't very slick you was it.?"

With a groan, you take their hand smiling with a slight pained groan from the fall as you pull them into a side hug continuing your walk back to your bunker still as dumb and chaotic as ever but now stupid and chaotic with love. <3

"Shut up ya mole."

[ootah-canadiensis]

STRIIIIIDERRRRR!

I wanted to see how I would interpret the very... very strange anatomy of the Strider. And let me tell you, I had a very tough time figuring out the damned thing.

First of all, You might notice a huge lack of the carapace that covers the Strider's legs and main body, that is because I've figured that the exoskeleton is largely artificial as the other synths seem to have it (with exception of the Hunter,) and that inclined me to believe that the Strider didn't naturally have it, and without it It would largely be that dark green musculature, which of course any living thing would have some form of skin and not exposed muscle. Another point towards the carapace being artificial is how it segments, appears to have bolts and of course, the ventilation on it's back. All of these factors would lead a pretty clear image that the synths originally had other forms of covering, with maybe some exception of the Dropship.

And of course, the mouth and "hand." The mouth is where the particle cannon of the Strider was, as it appears there are vestigial compound eyes next to it, and following the evolutionary advantage of the eyes being close to the mouth, as to know what you're eating... It only makes sense to put the mouth there. One thing that I also noticed in the HL:A model for the strider is that a small piece of musculature seems to "wrap around" where the particle cannon is, which I think might be some form of lip structure?

Next down the line on the head region are the bolts downwards of the giant "bolts" grafted onto the side of the neck, which I believe cover where the ears might've been? In my sketch you can see two frog-like tympanic tissues there. Since the Strider naturally is pretty fuckin' tall, it probably wouldn't need extensive protection for the ears (and also because it was easier for me to draw.)

And the next is... The hanging sack of meat that is the Warp Cannon. God, that was just so challenging to try and rationalise how and why a creature would even have something like it. And yet rationalise I did, as I made it where it is able to grasp things and function as a hand or arm, which inside of it is also it's reproductive organs which are more often than not sealed away like a cloaca or something.

Lastly, the feet of the Strider. I wanted to make sure that it's rounded end was still noticeable, while also resembling like an actual functioning foot. Which I ended up with a soft foot with 5 toes arranged in a star pattern. I had to add that in because it wasn't very clear on my sketch of the foot. I also ended up adding those hairs as sensitive whiskers.

And now for my own personal interpretations for its behaviour pre-combine (as if EVERYTHING wasn't my own personal interpretation beforehand)

In HL:A, you can hear "speech" from the Striders. That is something that caught my attention, and I think that might suggest that the Striders were also just as intelligent as us, just in their own way. As for their culture and society... I'm not sure, if someone wanted to use this as a base for something, be my guest :) At minimum their intelligence could be compared to something like an elephant.

And their feeding habits I imagine are a lot like sauropods of earth, using their rake-like teeth to strip off food such as branches or whatever their native flora might've been like. And speaking of their immense height to reach those glorious foods that most other animals can't get too...

They must have been on a planet with lower gravity, I mean just listen to their walking sounds in-game. Do your legs make creaking sounds just by walking? Their legs are clearly under stress from holding up their weight on Earth's gravity, and because of their new-found body's composition of being made of Combine stuff, their legs won't break! But if you were to place a pre-combine Strider on earth, their legs would- should shatter from their immense scale.

And their ears, I think that the Striders largely communicated through infrasound, largely making noises below our range of hearing which they would have naturally heard with their two sets of ears. With exception from the infrasonic communication being that of the deafening howls and "craggles" as I like to call them. And for their sound design in Half-Life: Alyx? I think those may be sounds that are generated from some kind of Combine tech. Not sure, though.

And I believe that is all I have to say, it was delightful trying to figure out just how the Striders probably would've functioned before the combine came along and mutilated them. And it was so incredibly hard not to have the Strider's warp cannon not be exactly what it looks like. If anything was hard to understand, I apologise since I wrote this all in one sitting and didn't have the time or patience to read it over. This will probably be my last Half-Life post like this unless I still have other ideas for how a lot of the aliens of this lovely franchise live beyond being an obstacle for Gordon to bash with a crowbar

[ashicyde]

—Boop!—

・Sombra x female reader・

Fluff

>>Overwatch Masterlist<<

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"Alright, be careful with your new arms." Angela said cautiously, letting you move and flex your new robotic arms. On the latest mission there was an accident in which you and a few other Overwatch agents were injured greatly and your arms needed to be amputated. Thankfully, everyone worked together to help you get some new robotic arms, filled with great technology.

"I will." You replied with a small smile, making Angela smile back. "Good, now Jack wants you to get back in the field quickly, so I suggest you practice with your arms for a bit in the practice range. You remember all the gadgets you have now, right?" Angela questioned.

"Yep." You replied as you started to head out. "Good. Now go get some training in before Jack sends you out." Angela stated as she waved you off.

You let out a chuckle and waved goodbye as you left. You walked down the halls, staring and flexing your arms to get used to them. You got to the practice range quickly, seeing Lena and Genji there. You grabbed your signature weapon(s) before beginning to get in some training.

"Ouu! Your arms look cool luv!" Lena said excitedly as she blinked right next to you. You gave a small smirk, continuing to train and practice your aim. Throughout your training you, Genji and Lena spoke for a while. You trained for about two hours before Jack had came to get you.

"Let's go! We got a mission in Dorado!" Jack yelled, calling out to you. You waved goodbye to Lena and Genji before heading to the dropship.

"This is a three man mission." Jack stated as he boarded in front of you, then looking to Ana, who was the other teammate. The dropship quickly began to move, not going to let us have a long break before Dorado.

"We're looking for the Talon agent Sombra, aka Olivia Colomar." Jack firmly explained to both of us. He then looked to you.

"You will be on lookout since you need to work on your arms. Ana and I will infiltrate the base in Dorado for the agent." Jack explained, which you nodded firmly. It was the safest option since you needed to make sure your arms worked completely.

"Make sure your comms are open the entire time so we can get in contact easily." You nodded once more, and not long after Jack finished speaking the dropship landed, opening the doors to a Dorado rooftop.

Jack and Ana both quickly made their way to the Talon base as you stayed on the rooftop, watching from above. You saw them go into the base, so now you just have to wait and keep watch. After about 30 minutes of nothing, you seem to realize that something feels off. You tap your comms before speaking.

"Guys? Give me an update-" You began to say before hearing static in your comms. You curse under your breath before you feel your robotic arms fall to your side.

"Well well well. When did you get new arms mi amor?" Said a voice from behind you.

"Today." You muttered, turning and looking at Sombra. "Got them because of the accident." You stated, your arms still limp by your sides. Sombra's expression softened as she came closer, her hands gently touching your arms.

"You never should've went on that mission amor..." Sombra muttered sadly.

"We can't do anything about it now Olivia..." You replied, feeling your arms gaining power and lifting them again. You metal hands gently held her sides. "They're looking for you." You muttered.

"I know." Olivia replied. "That doesn't mean anything to me at the moment. Your comms are still down and I just want to hold you. I haven't seen you in weeks." She said softly, pulling you into a hug and holding you closely.

You smiled softly and gently kissed her forehead. "Te amo." You muttered softly, and you see her smile.

"También te amo." She replied softly before booping your nose. "Boop." She said softly before translocating away.

You smiled softly before hearing footsteps, turning to see Jack and Ana.

"You alright?! You haven't been answering us!" Jack scolded in his stern tone.

"I'm fine, comms are down." You stated calmly, looking to Jack and Ana. Jack muttered and cursed under his breath before going back onto the dropship. Ana moved to you, speaking warmly. "We couldn't find Sombra, and we had to get out of there before the rest got there." She explained before going back to the dropship.

You were about to go back to the dropship before noticing that your arms now had a slight purple glow where there were lights in them. You smiled softly and felt a small boop on your nose again.

"Boop!" You heard a quiet whisper say, making you grin. You heard Jack yell your name and you quickly muttered.

"Boop."

[bloodgulchblog]

I need to name this and polish the edges but when I do I'll put it on AO3. Jackals steal the Pelican and the gang gets it back. Esparza hates Chief's Warthog driving. 2.5k words.

The Chief’s helmet swings in a smooth echo of the Pelican’s arc, tracking the stolen dropship’s movement as he processes, and then he’s running. Esparza’s running too, he’s much slower but he’s closer. He has time to leg over the side of the Warthog just before the Master Chief vaults up over the top and down at the wheel, the whole vehicle rocking under the weight of the MJOLNIR armor.

He doesn’t look at Esparza until after he’s already gunning them off through the trees.

“We’re getting it back,” he says, rock-steady and factual, the man ready to pull down the moon.

“Big guy-”

Esparza doesn’t know what he’s going to say and doesn’t get to find out. They take a meter of air as the Chief points the hog over a broad-backed rock and it launches eagerly off the crest. All Esparza can do is hold on for dear life, his heart hammering in his ears and against his ribs. The breath that leaves him is barely intelligible profanity as they land and keep rolling. He wonders what it takes to break a Warthog, and is sure it’s more than it would take to break his own spine.

“Chief!” the young AI alerts over the armor’s external speakers. It’s for Esparza’s benefit, so he can hear her yell at the Chief. The Chief does not slow but he turns, swerving them out of the trees and onto an open part of the ridge.

“We can’t lose them,” he says.

“Do not make me fall out of this car,” Esparza manages to spit. Dust is pluming behind them as the huge tires haul them down, down, down hill. He cannot see the Pelican, he’s assuming the Weapon’s tracking it and feeding it through Chief’s HUD or something like that as the unfair fight between ground vehicle and air vehicle plays out. He cannot help, he’s just here for the ride.

He shouldn’t have jumped in the jeep.

If he hadn’t jumped in the jeep, would Chief have left him back there?

“I won’t,” the Chief says and he’s so casual about it Esparza could strangle him. The Warthog bounces as they hit uneven ground, the corners of the frame rocking and jilting as the jeep prances across grass and stone until they’re out of the hummocks and sliding downhill again at an angle that makes Esparza sure they’re about to flip forward. Chief angles them hard. They’re on four wheels, then just the right two, and then the Master Chief’s long, armored arm is across Esparza’s front and it’s the only thing anchoring him to safety and life as the jeep rolls side over side and he finally just has to scream with it. They land on four again, perfectly calculated, and Esparza can’t let go of Chief’s arm just as much as he can’t stop swearing at him.

“I don’t think they can see us anymore,” the Weapon says with the calm, detached focus of an AI with split attention. “They’re slowing down and flying straight.”

Chief’s still holding Esparza with one arm, carefully not crushing him into the seat, and driving with the other. Even when he has to fight the wheel to get them over another rock, one arm seems to make no real difference. Esparza’s getting used to him, slotting the Master Chief into his brain in a place that processes people and not iconic demigod war figures, and that means sometimes forgetting how ludicrously strong he is.

“Can you shoot?”

The question takes a second to get to the smart part of Esparza’s brain through all the traffic currently running in the adrenaline-soaked part of it that mostly remembers what it’s like to run from cave lions and how nice it maybe feels if someone strong is protecting you.

“What?” he manages.

“Can you shoot?” The Chief obliges.

Esparza remembers the big M46 LAAG anchored behind them in the bed and feels a sinking in the pit of his belly that has nothing to do with the next awful bounce.

“I’m not trained on that chain gun, Chief.”

“I am. If I give you my sidearm, can you use it?”

“Yes?”

“Good.”

He doesn’t say anything more. Esparza keeps expecting him to. They’re finally running the hog over smooth stone and dark gray sand, having found the nice shallow belly of this fold in the land where the Forerunner-seeded river beside them has had time to run this ground flat. Chief has both hands back on the wheel.

“Can you please let me in on what the plan is?” Esparza finally asks.

“I’ll figure that out when we find where they’re taking the bird.” Ominous. What’s even more ominous is how the river is turning, and the Warthog is not. The Chief is not.

“That’s water, Chief.”

“We can slog it.”

“Are you sure?!”

They’re already in. Cold river water swamps up high enough to spill across their legs. Esparza hisses in dismay and smacks Chief’s right pauldron in fruitless protest. The hog’s not a swimmer, but it is a wader. Chief has to have some kind of depth gauge in that phenomenally expensive helmet, because the spot they’re fording is shallow enough to cross with a watery snarl. The jeep’s wheels beat a frothy wake behind them and cloud the water with billowing silt, and then the Warthog’s clawing its way up the other bank. Esparza’s just glad it’s a shallow grade, because he’s sure Chief wouldn’t balk at the face of yet another awful tire climb. All the river they took on as passenger is escaping out drainage points built for this, but Esparza’s pants are still wet and he doesn’t need this to be worse.

“Did you do this to all the jeeps I found for you?”

“Just the good ones.”

Esparza snorts, but doesn’t want to give in to a laugh. He’s still just getting to know the Chief, and especially this version of the Chief who speaks to him slightly more often, but he’s getting a strong sense that maybe Spartan-IIs don’t need encouragement when it comes to bad jokes.

“They’re putting down,” says the Weapon. “I’m painting a waypoint. Do you think the Jackals will damage it, Chief?”

“Not immediately. No good to them if they break it.”

“They better not,” says Esparza, who didn’t realize how strongly he felt about it until this moment. Scared, yes. Angry, yes. But there’s something specific about the Pelican now. It’s his Pelican, it’s been his home for six months and they may have been the worst six months of his entire life, but that does not change the truth of it. The idea of a bunch of Banished Jackals tinkering around on it feels personal. Chief’s taking them up hill again, and Fernando at least likes to imagine he’s slackened the pace now that the dropship isn’t moving. It’s the smallest relief and isn’t complete, though, because in short order they’re hitting trees and hexagonal shelf-cliffs and piles of fallen rocks that range in size from a man’s head up to almost as big as the Pelican they’re chasing. It’s one of these that Chief tests the front wheels against for a moment, before pushing forward so they start rolling up the incline onto it. Esparza holds on tight to the grab bar. “Please don’t flip us.”

Chief obliges without a word. They’re over and rolling, and then he’s positioning the tires for the next maneuver that will carry them up and through a narrow gap between two boulders. It’s wide enough that the Warthog should be able to span it if he can get the left wheels against one face and the right wheels against the other at the right level.

“We could just get out and walk,” Esparza suggests. He’s getting used to this. It’s a joke.

“You could,” Chief says mildly as he shifts gears. “Hold on.”

Esparza doesn’t point out that he was already holding on, he just does it harder as the Warthog fights its way higher. Chief has to turn and finesse the front wheels, coaxing the vehicle forward centimeter by centimeter and occasionally having to pull back and re-do an angle. He’s getting them there. The Warthog hates it. Esparza wonders how far the sounds of its unhappy engine will carry, and how close they are to the Jackals.

They clear the rocks and sit for a moment, four tires on the ground again while the whole Warthog leans to the left on the slope. Chief tips his head toward the way they came, a silent see?

“Showoff,” Esparza acknowledges. Chief answers by accelerating so hard out of the stop that Esparza rocks backward into his seat with a startled shout and has to hold on with both hands. This time, despite himself, he does laugh.

“Look sharp. We’re getting close.”

“Is there a plan yet?”

“The plan’s get closer.”

The Warthog kicks small stones and tufts of shallowly-rooted grass down the slope behind them. Chief keeps it close to the belly of the sheer hexagonal cliff face they’re now running alongside. He’s cutting off as many high vantage points as possible. When he notices that, it makes something in Esparza’s belly tense.

The Chief finds a place to tuck them into a combination of cliff shadow and overhead tree cover. He makes a wait - quiet gesture to Esparza. Esparza busies himself for a couple of seconds by noticing how far uphill they’ve gone, and how going back down all of that could be really really bad. It’s a shame he has to think this kind of thing about Zeta Halo, and it’s a shame that Zeta Halo feels like a deathtrap that is singularly hostile to their existence. If it weren’t for that unfortunate detail, the greens, blues, and silvers of the shimmering ring-arc horizon really would be beautiful.

Chief taps him, and wordlessly presses the weight of the Mk50 Sidekick into his hand.

“Plan?” Esparza whispers.

“Stay here.”

The Chief unfolds himself from the driver’s seat and out of the Warthog, unlimbers his rifle, and scouts ahead.

Esparza always hates it when he’s alone to wait, and he especially hates being in the Warthog for it. At least the Pelican is spaceworthy, protected from all sides. He sighs, uses his free hand to grab the top bar that keeps rolling from cracking the windshield, and pulls himself up to climb over into the driver’s seat. Esparza can fire that pistol if he has to, but Esparza also understands where his areas of competency actually are.

It’s all quiet upstairs. He doesn’t hear the Chief (unsurprising) but also doesn’t hear the sounds of a whole pack of Jackals trying to kill the Chief (good.) It’s even more excruciating to hear nothing from the Chief and the AI when he knows the Chief’s in the middle of actively avoiding being killed.

When the tall green figure with the golden visor drops down the cliff edge to land beside the Warthog again, Esparza does a very good job not yelling but it is a near thing and he does startle halfway across the vehicle again. The Chief pauses, notes the change of seat to the driver’s side, and nods in approval as he steps back toward the Warthog’s bed and then steps up into it.

There are so many questions Esparza wants to ask him. How close are they? How many are there? How’s the Pelican? Chief, what’s the plan? But he’s worried maybe they’re too close, maybe he can’t say anything. Is the Chief taking the LAAG off the Warthog the quiet way because he has the luxury of time for once, or is it because he needs to?

Esparza collects himself and holds the gun and waits, focusing on his nervous heart and trying to keep his breathing slow. The Chief pulls the heavy gun off and Esparza can feel the Warthog perk up once freed from under a half ton of Spartan-II and — he doesn’t remember the weight of the M46 LAAG offhand. Sue him.

“Wait until all clear,” says the Chief as he carries the chain gun past Esparza, steps heavy with purpose and massive firepower. This is, apparently, the plan at last.

“Can do.”

This time, Esparza hears so much. Most of it is the chain gun. Some of it is Jackals. None of it is the Chief himself. Esparza doesn’t know how long it takes, but he does know that whatever his perception of time is here is going to be trash from all the adrenaline. Something falls from overhead and he barely manages to track it with the pistol as it hits the dirt.

Esparza stares down the barrel at a somewhat dazed Jackal. Wide, slit-pupiled yellow eyes stare back at him up a long, toothy snout, the quills at the crown of the Kig-Yar’s head are up and splayed out in agitation. Even a neutral expression on one of the aliens looks frightening to a human, teeth exposed in a resting snarl and long-sighted eyes set fixed like a raptor’s.

The Jackal is unarmed, unhelmeted, and is now bleeding from a cut on its shoulder. It has to be at least bruised from that fall. Has Esparza ever seen a Jackal afraid?

The alien reacts quicker than he does and launches itself, not at him but down slope. It avoids the way the Chief and Esparza took for the Warthog, gunning for the steeper face that has more plant cover over the uneven earth and stone. Esparza sees it slip, slide and roll in a way that looks painful before it’s up again, running, and gone completely.

Jackal. Kig-Yar. Pirate. Mercenary. Does a Jackal feel shame for cowardice? Is there a reason for one to?

Esparza realizes he’s been holding his breath and stops. He points the gun to the last spot he saw the Jackal and listens for the last sounds of the battle up the cliff to die.

The Chief returns with the LAAG, relaxed and in control, looking exactly as he did when he left.

“Clear?”

“Clear!” It’s the Weapon who replies. “Those Jackals are definitely going to think twice about trying to steal our Pelican again!” She pauses. “Well. Different Jackals. If they hear about this. Because these ones won’t be thinking anything anymore.”

Esparza snorts and shakes his head while the Chief bolts the chain gun back into its mount. The Spartan hops down from the bed and stops still, looking up toward Esparza, hesitating. He might be trying to decide what to say. Esparza arches his brows.

“Oh, get in. I can drive.”

The Chief comes up the right side of the Warthog and climbs in the passenger’s side. Esparza passes the Sidekick back to him, and drives the rest of the way up to the Pelican. It is an uneventful and smooth climb, and there are no giant rocks.

[sizzledropshipping]

When you decide to dropship

So you have decided to go in business for your self. Even more so you have decided to dropship your items. Before you do, make sure that your dropship company can supply the items you have in mind. It is perhaps best to start out with a few items so that you can become familiar with the drop ship process.

Several years ago, only a few companies would dropship for you. Today there are a large number of companies that will sell you merchandise and dropship it for you. If you feel that this is the business for you, then you need to start looking for dropship companies. Decide what you want to sell, and then look for all the companies that offer these items. Consider the dropship policies along with the price of the merchandise. Then you can determine whether to dropship the items you want to sell. On the other hand, you need to know how much you want to make from your dropship business. That will help you to determine the number of items to sell and what kind of items to sell. Even more so when you think of drop shipping you need to know the demand and supply for items you are going to sell.

If the item is a hot item, and you have many orders, there is a possibility that your company may not be able to fill your customer orders. There's nothing worse then ordering something only to find out that it is out of stock. So if you decide to dropship, check with your drop shipper and make sure the item is available. It may not be possible some times to check with your dropshipper so be prepared to deal in customer service in a customer friendly way if the item ordered is out of stock. Most of the time dropship companies have an abundance of merchandise. Sometimes however an item becomes very popular overnight. When this happens the supply can not fill the demand. Usually the wait for merchandise is not long but sometimes it is, especially if it is during a holiday time such as Christmas. So be prepared to deal with back orders and to communicate with your customers about the dropship concerns.

For those business people who do not have storefront, drop shipping is an avenue for selling. When you decide to dropship, you do not have to worry about stocking a store. The drop shipper has a warehouse full of merchandise and that becomes your store. Some drop shippers will allow you to come to the warehouse and look at the merchandise on display. If you can afford to visit one of these dropship merchandise display centers, you can then pick and choose items that you think will dropship well and that will be popular among your potential customers.

Remember items that are breakable, can create many problems for you from your customers. When an item is dropshipped, and a customer tells you that he received the item broken it becomes necessary for you to replace that item. Some items dropship better than others. So pick a few items to dropship at first, see how it goes and added on to your collection gradually.

[countrymusiclover]

3 - Hunting Party

Part 4

Star Crossed Enemies

Three knocks were heard on the outside of my apartment door that was shut. Getting up from my bed I crossed the room barely opening the door seeing my father Jake standing in the hallway. “Dad! Hurry, get inside. Did anyone see you? Mom?”

“Nobody saw me, sweetheart. Your mother is still at work. But I do hope you have thought about my offer to let Marcus Kane pose as your father.” He stepped inside, wrapping me in a hug and I pressed my face against the fabric of his shirt.

Lifting my head up slightly I had to ask knowing the kind of man he called his friend. “You mean the man that enforces harsher than the current Chancellor does. I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Please just consider it, Cassie. I want someone else looking out for you when I can’t.” My father declares with some tears welling up in his eyes.

Lowering my gaze to the floor I wouldn’t realize what his words meant until after he was gone. Sighing heavily I nodded agreeing with his plan. “Okay, dad. I’ll talk with Kane but change my last name to Rhodes.”

Suddenly the door opened and closed quickly showing my mother Abby standing in front of it as she shut it by pressing her back against it. “Mom!”

“Abby! How did you know I was here?” Dad questioned her under his breath.

She stomped up pushing the two of us apart from one another glaring sparingly at each one of us individually. “The whole reason that I told you to get your own place at sixteen was to make sure that the three of us weren’t seen together too much to draw suspicion. And you can’t even follow that simple order.”

“Abby, don’t be hard on her. I came to see her. She didn’t know I was coming today so be angry at me.” My father attempted to calm down his wife but it was no use.

She snapped back at her husband. “She clearly doesn’t understand how serious this is for us. For me, you and Clarke.”

Pure hurt came over me at her words not hearing even utter my name once. I shoved her away from me where she stumbled into my father’s chest completely taken back by my actions. “So that’s how it is huh, mom. You’ve just cut me out of the family completely!”

“Sweetheart, you know I meant you to-“ She started to say but I slapped her hand away that tried to touch me.

“No you knew what you said the minute the words came out of your lying mouth!” Pushing past them I fling the door opened pointing with my index finger for them to leave. “You know just leave me alone. Just get out of my face right now!”

“Cassiopeia.” She spoke simply.

“Get out!” I screamed through heavy tears falling down my face. My mother scrambled out quickly but my father lingered sending me a silent apologetic look before leaving, allowing me the opportunity to shut the door and just sobbed on the cold floor.

“Wake up, grounder girl.” I felt someone kicking me with their boot in the middle of my back waking me from the sleep I had managed to accomplish on the harsh cold floor of their dropship.

Rolling over onto my back I groaned, spreading my hands over my face. “Uhhh…what do you want?”

“Get up. I’m taking you hunting with me.” Bellamy declared resting one hand on his hip that had a metal ax attached to his belt loops.

Peeking through my fingers I glared up at the older man standing over me. “Hunting hmm. Are you needing pointers on how to kill animals since you lived in space all your life.” I teased him by turning over to lay on my side and attempt to fall back to sleep.

The sky boy stepped around my legs and lowered himself down in a squatting position giving him the ability to grab my chin forcing me to look him in the eye. “It wasn’t a question. You’re my prisoner, not a guest.”

“Fine. But I get to have my weapons pack back. I refuse to leave this camp without having my own form of protection.”

Bellamy didn’t say anything for a minute before giving me a simple head nod. “If you try to kill me I will fight you.”

“You kill me.” I laughed at how cocky and confident he seemed. “That’s adorable.”

He stared down at me for a few minutes before he nudged me with the tip of his boot a second time, walking over to the ladder and climbing down. Sitting upright I ran my fingers through my hair undoing the one braid that I had in my hair allowing it all to be loose. Climbing down the ladder I didn’t fall even with having my hands handcuffed. “So if you want me to go hunting with you you’re gonna have to take these off first.” Holding up my handcuffed wrists I stood on the edge of the dropship ramp.

All around me everyone was working on some portion of their camp. They had constructed a wall around the whole dropship and a meat house. Plus many tents so they didn’t all have to sleep in the metal box. The only thing I could see they were missing was proper weapons.

Bellamy takes one long stride forward snagging my right wrist in his grasp cutting the ties with a small knife he had on his belt. “When we get back here these are going back on.”

“Do you really assume I’m so dangerous? I could be the weakest fighter you’ve ever seen.”

He raised his brows knowing I was being very sarcastic. “Nice try, Cassio. You took out three of my guys with a dart gun and held a knife to my throat.”

“So you did learn something from that day. Good I was beginning to worry I didn't scare you well enough.” I glared up at him, shifting my gaze to his deep chocolate eyes focused on me. We remained standing for about ten minutes until someone came over to us.

“Bellamy! Are we going to go kill something or not?” A guy with dark brown hair carrying a metal knife walked up. “What is she doing outside the dropship?”

Bellamy quickly separated himself from me. He handed me my weapon pack before turning his attention to the guy. “We're taking her with us, Murphy.”

“Why don't we just kill the grounder girl. We already have one chained up in the dropship and how are we supposed to know that she won't try and kill us the second we step outside of camp.” Murphy questions his leader.

The older man nodded his head to his right hand man, snagging my wrist leading me outside the camp walls with Murphy and a few other guys following behind us. “We're not going to kill her. And don't worry about her. I'll keep an eye on her.”

Our group trekked through the woods in silence looking for any animals that we could kill for dinner tonight. I wasn’t that familiar with this area. Living in Polis meant that we had hunting parties go out and return with food. I typically only tagged along with them in that specific area. Walking up the side of the hill I paused bending down on my knees I saw a deer standing a few feet in front of me eating some grass. Turning my head slightly around I saw Bellamy walking past me with an ax raised in his right hand till I jumped up snagging his wrist before he could swing it. “Hang on. You can’t do that.”

“I know how to kill something, grounder girl.” Bellamy grunted trying to fight against my type grip that my fingernails had on his wrist.

Murphy pointed his index finger at me in frustration. “I told you we shouldn’t have brought her with us!”

“I can handle her, Murphy.” The older leader intensely stared down at me. “Let go of me. You’re gonna scare off our dinner.”

Digging my fingernails deeper into his wrists that I was holding I pressed my nose against his. He needed to understand that I was trying to help him, even if he didn’t understand it yet. I certainly could just let him miss the deer and simply laugh in his face afterwards. “Shut up and listen to me, Blake. The way you’re currently holding that ax wouldn’t kill the deer. So if you want to bring food back to camp you better start listening to me!”

“You’re lying.” He shakes his head still not believing me.

With my freehand I snatched the weapon from his hand, stomping quickly around him before he could grab me and stop me from what I was about to do. Raising the ax above my hand with both my hands wrapped, the handle as I took a deep breath releasing it only after I launched the weapon forward. The ax went flying into the lower stomach of the deer before it slowly fell down dead on the forest floor. Proudly spinning around on my boots I smirked with my hands clasped behind my back. “Next time you refuse my help keep in mind I won’t be helping you.”

“I’ll be damned.” Bellamy cursed under his breath before the sky began slowly turning a dark yellow meaning the acid fog was coming from the mountain.

“Bellamy.” I shouted back at him.

He finally noticed the sky breaking in a sprint forward grabbing the back of my jacket and the others broke off into another direction for shelter. “There are caves this way!”

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist !

Bellamy Blake - Drop ship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You're an Azgeda assassin sent to kill Bellamy after the mass genocides to Trikru. Azgeda assassins are supposed to be stone-cold, and feel nothing, but what happens when a certain boy tries to gain your trust ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, nsfw, oral, a little violence

Day two

Sitting atop my horse, Swan, I was studying the boy beyond the trees. He knew I was here, he was also studying me as well. He goes by the name 'Bellamy Blake', an oddly long name, but a name you don't see every day.

I was here to kill him.

To deliver his head to my buyers, Titus, the fleimkepa, and King Roan.

I had been following this Bellamy for two days, he's known I was following him for a few hours, and my horse had given it away.

I like to study my targets, see what they are like, study their mannerisms, and how they survive. It isn't standard, most assassins would've had it done within the hour. I've had the chance to kill him plenty of times. He is always so vulnerable to attacks, or maybe he knows that and is testing me.

Bellamy carries himself well for the most part, he's a good shot but very loud, as most Skaikru are. It was fairly easy to track him. The first day I was sent he was at their initial landing spot, what they call a 'dropship'. I wasn't sure why he wasn't behind the walls of Arkadia, could they have banished him?

My thoughts were cut short when I realized I had lost sight of him, I couldn't believe I got so caught up in my own thoughts to realize he was gone.

I hitched Swan and treaded lightly to his last position by the river.

Under a rock was a note and a piece of fish, the note would've been nice if I could read it.

The ignorance of Skaikru.

It wasn't that I couldn't speak English, in fact, I was fluent, as all warriors and assassins are. Only the warriors are taught English along with Trigdasleng, it was so we could understand the Mountain Men, well when they were a threat.

Thank you, Clarke.

I had tossed the piece of fish back into the river as I didn't trust Bellamy, I mean I was here to kill him after all.

Looking into the dirt I saw a heavy set of footprints, foolish boy. They were leading back to the dropship, were he was spending most of his days. His schedule was very plain, wake up, walk to the river, eat, walk back. Very boring for a sky person.

I walked back to Swan to hitch her somewhere safe and headed towards the dropship carefully.

Clearly not careful enough as I ended up in a trap, a bear trap of some sorts. It didn't have jagged edges like a normal trap, it was flat and only applied enough pressure to injure my foot and land me on the ground.

"Who are you?"

I heard a voice call from the bushes, it was very easy to spot him as he was a fairly tall man. How stupid could I have been? I wasn't even watching where I was looking? The trap wasn't even hidden that well and I walked right into it. I got weak. Clumsy. I let my guard down. I could never call myself an Azgeda assassin after this.

Moments passed without an answer from me and he was growing impatient.

"I said who are you? I am not afraid to kill you, grounder." Bellamy yelled, now emerging from the bushes with a pistol in hand. I may have let my guard down but I wouldn't let this man intimidate me.

"Azgeda," I say flatly, not revealing anything else.

Bellamy pondered for a moment, his gaze on me remained strong, not daring to look away, it was clear I intimidated him.

"Ice Nation? I said who are you."

No response.

"Tell me or I swear I will pull this trigger!" He shouted, stepping closer until the barrel of the gun was against my forehead.

I had already accepted death.

"Ai gonplei ste odon." My fight is over.

Bellamy had pistol-whipped me, and before I knew it I was knocked out.

Day three

I had awoken tied to the ladder in the dropship. Looking around I saw that most things were covered in tar from the fire, the only clean things being Bellamy's makeshift bed and his other belongings, as well as all my armor and layers, leaving me in a simple t-shirt; which I could only assume was his, and my jeans.

I was tied down with leftover seatbelts, very sturdy, I had struggled before finally giving in after a headache caught up with me.

I groaned in pain, death would've been kinder than a pistolwhip. Where even was he? Had he just left me here to rot?

A few moments after Bellamy had appeared from behind the red tarp acting as a door, he was wearing what he always wears. A gray shirt paired with his usual black jacket, with certain patches gone missing. His hair and face had been littered with dirt and blood, though I was sure the blood wasn't his.

"Good, you're awake. Makes this a lot easier." Bellamy spoke, swiftly walking to his pack next to his bed. My worry grew when he pulled something out, was he going to kill me now?

He pulled out a water flask and walked over to me, I'd never drink from an enemy's flask.

Bellamy put the flask to my mouth, when I pulled my face away he sighed and took a sip himself to show me it was safe. I still didn't trust it.

I took a big sip, and once he pulled it away I spit the water back into his face. He pursed his lips, seemingly trying to keep his anger down. I'd never be this man's peace.

"A bath would do you good, ripa." Murderer. Even without a bath, his scent was.. likable.

He scoffed amusingly, "That's funny coming from you, grounder."

Bellamy stood up, wiping away the water with his hand and turning his back towards me.

"What do you want from me?" He continued, grabbing a chair and sitting it close in front of me.

I refused to answer, I only stared at him with anger.

"I have all day, princess." He spoke, leaning back in the chair and pulling out a wrapped ration from his pocket. He was going to eat in front of me, what kind of torture method was this? And princess? Who does Bellamy think he is?

A few hours had passed since then and I really had to go. I'd been holding it in for hours but I was at my limit. Bellamy was still staring at me through it all, he could tell I was starting to get uneasy.

"I need to go..." I let out in a barely audible whisper, quickly regaining his attention.

"What was that?"

"I need to go."

The dots seemed to connect in his mind and he nodded, getting up ready to let my wrists free.

"Tell me your name first," Bellamy demanded.

Are you serious? Of course, he would stoop this low.

"y/n," I spoke with a sigh, I had no other choice but to give in. And with a nod, he freed me- well, for the most part, one of my hands was still attached to a seatbelt, which he was holding.

Bellamy led me out of the dropship and to the side, god, this was so embarrassing.

"Can you at least turn around?" I questioned, my voice wavering for the first time since I met him. So much for not being intimidated.

With a silent nod he turned to the side and I did my business, a real gentleman, pistol-whipping me, and tying me up.

Though I had no room to speak.

Day four

I was back on the ladder, and Bellamy was in his now usual spot. Right in front of me. I hadn't eaten in two days, he knew this. And he used it against me.

"Now, princess, why were you following me?" Bellamy questioned, waving a piece of fish in his hand, like I was some dog he was rewarding for good behavior.

Was he trying to train me?

I had come to the conclusion I either answer the question or die of starvation. I already failed the mission, I could never return to Azgeda or Polis. I couldn't face what was waiting for me.

"I was hired to kill you." I flatly state, eyeing the fish and practically drooling over it.

Bellamy seemed satisfied with this answer and handed me the piece with a small nod, which I quickly scarfed down. I watched him pull another from the little silver bag.

He really was training me.

"Why didn't you? You've been following me for a few days, and had plenty of chances."

I thought about my answer for a few seconds, "You were intriguing. You didn't act like how they described."

He only smiled at this, for reasons I couldn't comprehend. But I got another piece of fish so I didn't really care.

"Well, until you pistolwhipped me," I added in between bites. His smile slowly faded.

"Sorry about that, I didn't wanna kill you."

"Cause you needed answers?"

He hesitated.

"Yeah."

Day five - smut

The isolation had started to get to me, Bellamy being the only person I could see, and I started to notice more things about him. The way his back muscles would flex when he changed clothes. How defined his arms were and how defined his entire body was.

I cursed myself for having these thoughts about Bellamy, I was his prisoner, and I should be scared for my life.

It was particularly hot this morning, so Bellamy decided the best option was to be shirtless. All. Day.

His chest was well shaven surprisingly, and his pants sagged low, low enough to see his V line. That only brought worse thoughts. Thoughts I couldn't suppress.

He hadn't asked me any questions since I've awoken, I assume he's given up and doesn't need me anymore.

"Like the view?" He asks, snapping me out of my trance, how long had he known I was staring?

His gaze on me was intense. He knew I wouldn't answer his question so he only stepped closer and closer, leaning down when he got close enough to me.

"Keep looking pretty for me, yeah princess?" He spoke, his voice becoming husky.

A bright red tint lined my face at his words. Nobody had ever spoken to me in that way. I couldn't reply, too filled with nerves to form a comprehensible sentence, all I could do was stare at the handsome man before me and hope he didn't notice how vulnerable he made me.

Bellamy seemed to get an idea, with a smirk he stood up and sat back in the chair.

Leaning back he began unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants just below his bulge. I was more turned on than I'd ever been. Was he really going to do what I think he's gonna do? Now this is torture. Not being able to touch him.

Bellamy started palming himself through his boxers, letting little grunts slip past his mouth, meanwhile maintaining full eye contact with me- though my eyes were focused on his hands. I wanted so desperately for that to be my hands touching him, my hands making him feel good.

A few seconds passed before he pulled his boxers down just enough to reveal his entire cock, causing me to clench my thighs together tightly; craving any friction I could get. I now only realized the shirt I was wearing still had his scent on it, it was intoxicating.

He started stroking himself slowly, leaning his head back in pleasure. I needed him.

"Bellamy," I spoke, my voice laced with lust and need, my entire body feeling warm. His name sounded so good coming from my mouth. Bellamy's eyes locked back with mine as his pace quickened.

"Princess," His voice sounded breathy. The nickname did no help in calming me down. I wasn't sure what to say next.

Bellamy stood up and walked closer to me.

"On your knees." He demanded, to which I quickly obliged, finally getting what I wanted. I got to my knees and looked up at him, his cock resting on my rose-tinted cheek while his hand caressed my other cheek, moving down to my mouth and running his thumb along my lower lip; asking for entrance.

Opening my mouth I felt his thumb explore it, pressing softly against my tongue, all the while maintaining eye contact with me.

"So good for me." Bellamy praised before tapping his tip against my tongue, the taste being surprisingly good given the limited resources. He slowly inserted his cock into my mouth, releasing a loud groan of pleasure once he hit the back of my throat, the warmth feeling amazing against his dick.

His hand instinctively grabbed ahold of my hair, holding my head in place as he started throat fucking me. I began breathing through my nose and using my tongue to feel against his shaft. Bellamy's moans only grew louder and his breathing became erratic.

My mouth was doing this to him, I was making him feel so good.

"Just like that." He whispered between moans, noticing the tears that began to coat my cheeks.

His free hand gripped the ladder steps above my head. The hand on my hair gripped tighter than before, I could tell he was close.

His tip hit the back of my throat relentlessly, I was sure I'd have trouble speaking after this, but its be so worth it. I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, his thrust slowly becoming sloppy.

"Doing so good, princess, so good, so fucking good."

My throat began to hurt from the abuse of his dick, and with one final deep thrust, I felt his warm cum fill my throat, forcing me to swallow every drop of the salty substance. Once he was sure he was done Bellamy pulled out, leaving my mouth feeling empty, missing the feeling of his cock. He was covered in sweat and I was covered in tears, but in this moment he never looked sexier.

I felt my hands drop to my sides, was he letting me free?

"Let's get cleaned up." He spoke, dropping the seat belt completely and helping me up. I stumbled a bit but used him as support. I was free but I didn't want to run.

In this moment nothing else mattered but him.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[starburr]

Part of the Sashannarcy Transformers One AU, basically they're now Unicron's heralds after killing Andrias but realizing they can't stop Unicron so they decide to work for him. Marcy is given Unicron's Prototype Armor, while Sasha is imbued with the Strength Gem fragment. Anne is given the Wit and Heart fragments of the Calamity Box (now more high-tech and mystical) while she recovers in a rejuvenation chamber to hopefully speed up the process. Progress is slow, but at least there is progress. Marcy and Sasha would do anything for Anne, no matter the cost. They didn't have names while they were still miners, only digits and numbers ascribed to their identity as the lowest class. Then, they realized that they could just give themselves names, didn't even have to make sense, as long as they felt like it was right. And so, during their Conjunx Ritus, they gave themselves names.

Of course, their ceremony was only grabbed from scrounged datapads and 'expeditions' to the archival buildings, wherein the trio helped disable the security measures while Marcy stealthily searched for the datapads they needed. During The Act of Intimacy, they held each others' hands, digits interlocked as they hummed silently, smiling to one another. The Act of Disclosure was most difficult, Anne as she now called herself, had possibly the most baggage. Stated that she had witnessed fellow miners crushed under tunnels that closed all too quickly. And a history of abu- But Sasha cuts her off, stating if it was too uncomfortable, then no need to press further. Anne however, had remained undeterred. Stating that it was for them, for the new life they'd share. The ceremony had to be completed given the other two had given their share of withheld secrets. So she continued. In The Act of Profferance, they all brought out gifts. Anne's was quite simple, two hand-made cloaks for each of her soon-to-be-official partners. Marcy had brought them copies of what was essentially her journal, a record of all of what they've been through together. For better or for worse, it was all there. Sasha brought out clearly what were sabers made with all the skill a self-taught forger would. She looked a little embarrassed, but Marcy and Anne were quick to seal off her doubt with a little kiss on each of her cheeks. They then exchanged their innermost Energon to seal off the Act, their sparks feeling a little giddier. The Act of Devotion is an act of selflessness, and while this might have been a transcribing error on Marcy's part, it seemed appropriate enough even if there was no way for them to accomplish that as of yet. So they promised one another, their sparks to the others, the others to them. To serve each other in love and life, to protect what they had. And so that day, there were more three happily married Cybertronians.

Sasha often reminisced this with Marcy, even while slaughtering innocents, the thought weighed heavy on her mind as she brought down her heavy axe onto their hapless victims. And they would always keep up the talk, especially once they got back to their dropship. They would go on, sometimes for entire stellar cycles at a time while their master swallowed up the now defenseless colony worlds. But they always made sure to talk in front of the rejuvenation chamber, so that Anne would always be included in everything they did when they could help it. They would even talk to her.

Going on with "We miss you dear", onto "Our day was kinda meh" accompanied with laughter sometimes, then a "We can't wait to meet you again." Good thing their master's appetite was not so ravenous as they had anticipated today. There were still a few planets that they had destroyed but remained uneaten. After all, they still wanted to talk to Anne more.

[hd-junglebook]

Neutral

Part 6.5

Lets pretend this chapter doesn't exist queens lol

word count - 2353

The dim light flickers overhead, casting elongated shadows that dance across the walls, mirroring the uncertainty looming over the makeshift surgery. the sounds of the outside world— lightning cracks lighting up the sky, the occasional howl of the wind —filter into the dropship.

Clarke's focus is split between her wounded friend and the urgent instructions crackling through the radio. Abby's voice, a lifeline in the chaos, is both a source of comfort and pressure. “Clarke honey, how deep is it?” Abby questions, her mother's voice cuts through the static.

"Well, I can't tell how deep it goes," she admits. Abby and Jackson exchange worried glances. Abby's voice filters through the static again. "That's alright, just don't remove the knife yet," she instructs.

Clarke nods as she processes Abby's instructions, Raven is pacing by Finn, her restless energy palpable as she moves back and forth near Finn. Clarke hands her a canister. “Hey, here, sterilize your hands.” Raven takes the moonshine and drinks a large sip, before pouring some on her hands.

The clinking of the metal canister against Raven's trembling fingers adds to the cacophony of sounds filling the dropship, blending with the distant voices on the radio and Clarke's own inner turmoil. "Clarke, do you see any fluid?" Abby ask.

Clarke's brow furrows in concentration as she processes Abby's question, her gaze focused intently on Finn's wound. But before she can respond. As the voices blend and overlap, Clarke's frustration mounts. "Damn it!" Clarke curses under her breath, she turns to Raven, her voice cutting through the noise with authority. "Clear the room!" she commands.   

Raven nods in understanding and takes charge of the situation. She charges towards the group of delinquents, her voice ringing out above the din. "Everyone! Upstairs! Now! Let's go!" she calls out

In the dim light, Clarke's hands move with precision as she carefully touches Finn, her movements deliberate and measured, she calls out "He feels a little warm." Raven, ever vigilant, turns on her heel and rushes towards Finn joining Clarke by his side.

"That's alright, fever sometimes accompanies trauma," she reassures, her voice calm yet authoritative. "Clarke, I need you to tell me if there is any fluid leaking from the wound." After a moment of silence, she responds hesitantly, "No."

Abby's response is barely audible, a whispered acknowledgment of their luck. "Pleural membrane's intact," she murmurs under her breath before addressing Clarke directly. "That's good. That's actually really good. You got lucky," she says, her words a balm to Clarke's frayed nerves.

Raven's smile is infectious as she looks down at Finn, her breath coming in short bursts as adrenaline courses through her veins. "Hear that? You're lucky," she says, her voice a mixture of relief and disbelief.

As the storm outside intensifies, the dropship is rocked by powerful gusts of wind, causing the metal walls to creak and groan under the strain. Debris pelts the exterior with a deafening cacophony, each impact sending tremors rippling through the cramped interior.

…

Harper kneels next to you, her brow creased in concern as she looks you over. "Her hands are cut up but that shouldn't make her so pale and weak," she says to Clarke. Clarke spares you a brief glance before returning focus to Finn. "She's probably in shock. See if you can get her to drink some water."

Harper nods, grabbing a canteen and bringing it to your lips. The cool water revives you a bit, but exhaustion still weighs heavy on your limbs. "Just rest," Harper soothes, brushing hair back from your clammy forehead.

Inside, Abby's steady voice guides Clarke through the delicate task of removing the blade from Finn's side. With trembling hands, Clarke works methodically, her focus unwavering but just as Clarke's hand hovers over the blade, a particularly fierce gust of wind strikes the dropship with brute force, knocking everyone off balance.

Clarke and Finn are sent sprawling to the ground, the impact jolting through your body like an electric shock. For a heart-stopping moment, the dropship is consumed by darkness, the only sound the howling of the wind and the frantic pounding of hearts. As the dust settles and the dim emergency lights flicker back to life, relief floods the cramped space.

As Clarke struggles to her feet, you stand at the ready, your heart pounding in your chest as you survey the scene before you. Raven's concern is evident as you make your way over to her, Harper's steady hand at your side providing much-needed support.

"Hey, are you okay?" Raven prodded, her voice tinged with worry as she takes in your disheveled appearance. You manage a weak smile, attempting to reassure her. "I'll be fine," you reply quietly. "Just a bit shaken up." Raven's brow furrows in concern as she studies you, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of injury. "You sure? You look like you've seen a ghost," she says with genuine concern.

Before you can respond, Clarke's voice cuts through the air, "Yeah, you look like death warmed over," she quips teasingly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. You manage a weak chuckle at Clarke's remark, grateful for the brief moment of levity.

…

Clarke lets out a long breath as she ties off the final suture in Finn's side, her hands steady despite the exhaustion creeping in. His skin is clammy and pale, early signs of infection setting in. She smoothes a hand over his feverish forehead, praying the procedure worked.

At the crackle of the radio, Clarke turns to see her mother Abby requesting a private conversation. " Clarke. Clarke, wait. Raven, could you give us a minute?" she asks. Raven nods, moving back to keep vigil over Finn but Clarke declines instructing raven to stay with Finn as she makes her way to the third level of the dropship.

As the screen flickers on, Kane's face appears. Your shoulders relax slightly at the sight of his familiar, comforting presence. Raven, ever perceptive, senses your need for privacy and nods in understanding, gesturing for Harper to follow her as she steps away, leaving you alone with Kane.

Taking a deep breath, you walk toward him, your fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. "Kane," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish you were here." There's a brief pause before Kane responds, a sad, sympathetic smile on his face. "I wish I were there too," he replies. "But you're stronger than you know. you're not alone, y/n.” you nod at him, glancing down to your bandages before Kane speaks again. “"Y/n, you look pale. What happened?"

You hesitate for a moment, debating how much to reveal, before deciding on honesty. "I got into some trouble," you admit, your voice tinged with resignation. "Sliced my hands open, but I think I'll be fine."

Kane's expression softens with sympathy as he listens to your explanation, a silent understanding passing between you despite the miles separating you. "Take care of yourself, y/n," he says, his voice heavy with emotion. "And remember, I'm here for you, no matter what."

You turn away from the radio, the sickly feeling settles back into the pit of your stomach. You continue walking away but darkness begins to cloud your eyes once more. a sudden commotion breaks out behind you. Finn begins to seize, his body wracked with convulsions, and you feel a similar sensation coursing through your own veins.

Raven and Harper rush to your sides, their panicked cries for Clarke pierce through the haze of agony. “Clarke! They’re seizing!” The world spinning wildly around you as you cling to consciousness with all your strength. Clarke rushes down to assess the situation, her face paling when she sees you and Finn seizing in tandem, the truth hits like a punch to the gut—both you and Finn have been poisoned. “Get my mom on the radio now!”

But Raven shakes her head, distraught. "The storm's blocking all communication. Please don't let him die."

Clarke's expression hardens with determination. She squeezes Raven's shoulder. "I won't let him die. I promise." Then she runs to Finn's side. She rushes off to attend to Finn, leaving you in Harper's care, you feel another wave of dizziness wash over you.

Harper does her best to soothe you as another seizure takes hold, your back arching off the floor. Helpless tears fill her eyes as your body contorts in her arms, her steady hands wipe your face with a damp rag. Despite her efforts, the seizures continue to wrack your body, each convulsion sending shockwaves of pain coursing through your veins.

Finally, the convulsions ebb. You sag back, drained and gasping. Harper gently mops your fevered brow, her soft voice encouraging you to keep fighting. Though your limbs feel like lead, you manage to push yourself up on shaking arms. The world tilts around you, but the rolling in your stomach has ceased for now.

Harper helps prop you against the wall of the dropship. "That's it, just breathe," she coaches. She grips your hand tightly, anchoring you against the lingering tremors.

With a defiant curse, you push back against Harpers attempts to stop you, the dizziness threatening to overcome you as you struggle to maintain your balance. Ignoring her protests, you grit your teeth against the pain and stagger towards the ladder.

…

With a trembling hand, you start to climb despite the struggle to maintain your footing. With every last ounce of strength within you, you make it to the top floor, pushing open the hatch. As you emerge into the dim light of the upper level, the world spins wildly around you, but you refuse to give up.

You draw closer to the tied-up Grounder, Bellamy and Clarke halt their torture, their expressions a mixture of surprise and concern as they take in your frail frame. The bruises on the Grounder's face stand out in stark relief against his tan skin. He meets your stare evenly as stop walking.

"Which vial is it?" you croak out between a gasp for air, searching for any sign of recognition in his eyes. But he remains unresponsive, his gaze flickering towards Octavia. You catch his eye for a fleeting moment, a silent exchange passing between you before your gaze falls upon the knife still lying on the ground.

With a shaky hand, you reach for the knife, the blade glinting in the dim light, your fingers closing around the hilt with trembling precision. The weight of the knife in your hand is a sobering reminder of the choices that lie ahead, the line between right and wrong blurring in the dim light of the dropship.

You pull Octavia to your chest, pressing the cold steel of the blade against her neck. “Please,” you begged, tears streaming down your face. “I don't want to hurt anyone, but I have to save Finn.”

The Grounder's eyes widen in fear, his muscles tensing as he struggles against his restraints.  "Tell me which vial, or I'll slit her throat right here." The words come out harsher than you intended, but you know you have to do whatever it takes to save Finn.

As the air grows hotter in the room, a wave of dizziness washes over you, your sickly form swaying with the effort to stay upright. But you refuse to let weakness overtake you, clinging to consciousness with all your strength as you await the Grounder's response.

Bellamy rushed forward into your line of sight, trying to reason with you. 'Let her go, y/n,' he demanded. 'You don't know what you're doing!'

But you refuse to yield. The weight of the knife in your hand felt comforting, giving you a sense of power and control. “I know he won't let her die,” you rebutted. With a defiant glare, you pushed Bellamy aside and focused back on the grounder. 'Which vial is it?' You repeat again, pressing the knife closer to Octavia's neck.

From beneath you, Octavia's voice trembled. 'Y/N, please, don't do this,' she pleaded. “I don't want to see anyone else get hurt.”

With a jerk of his head, the Grounder directs Clarke towards the correct vial, his gaze unwavering as she shouts out a confirmation before rushing downstairs to Finn's aid. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you can trust the Grounder's words. But then you remember the look in Octavia's eyes, the desperation and fear, and you know you have no other choice. With a sigh of relief, you release your grip on Octavia, allowing her to collapse to the ground beneath you.

You could see the pain and betrayal in their eyes, and you knew that you had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. With a shaky breath, you apologize for your actions, your voice barely above a whisper as you show her your hands, the cuts reopened and fluid seeping out. Octavia's expression softens with understanding as she takes in the extent of your injuries.

…

Emerging from the dropship, you felt grateful for the sun. The hues beat down on your skin, warming you after your day of cold and darkness. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the memories of the hurricane that had almost swept you away with it.

campers working tirelessly to clean up the aftermath of the storm. The air was heavy with the scent of mud and debris, and the sound of voices raised echoed through the clearing. The camp was in shambles.

Bellamy approached you, his expression guarded as he stopped at your side. You could feel the anger radiating off of him, the unspoken words hanging in the air. "I'll never save you again," he says with a hint of bitterness. "So don't take my actions to heart."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You never relied on Bellamy to protect you, to save you from any danger. But during the hurricane, he had left you behind, choosing to save others instead. You decided to put Finn before yourself and it was clearly costing you more than you thought.