#in montys defense he did NOT know he was choking him

[chotachica]

Will still wanting to go w Monty right after being showed how much he has been mistreated by him AND him almost choking him to death -&)"/:?? he is so me actually

[imagine-darksiders]

On the Ropes - Chapter 3

Five Night’s at Freddy’s: Security Breach

Montgomery Gator X Female Reader

Tags: Fnaf, Montgomery Gator/Reader, slow burn, cleaning lady Reader, female reader, mentions of Sunnydrop/Reader, sentient animatronics, friends to lovers, anger issues, hurt/comfort, Glamrock Freddy, slight jealousy in this chapter.

Summary: You run into Mick outside Montgomery’s green room and unbeknownst to you, the sight of the mechanic leads to a memory cropping up unbidden for the animatronic. 

A decision is made, insignificant to you, perhaps, but it doesn’t escape Monty’s keen notice. Then again, not much ever does.

---------

If Mick thought that the sound of Monty tearing his green room apart had been unsettling, the silence that followed after he sent that poor cleaning lady through the door was downright terrifying.

Raising a trembling hand to his forehead, he daubs anxiously at the beads of sweat gathering on his brow and returns to pacing back and forth in front of the vast window, wearing a trench into the linoleum floor with each pass.

Every now and again, he leaps out of his skin when the uncomfortable quiet is shattered by a muffled shout from beyond the glass, no doubt from Monty getting fired-up by goodness-knows what this time.

Hours seem to pass, and yet each time Mick throws a glance at his watch, the time shows that a mere fifteen minutes have dragged slowly by, so far without any screaming, which he counts as a tentative win....

… But really, what the Hell had he been thinking!? 

He hadn't even given you a stun baton to protect yourself with, an oversight he almost corrected before he realised that strolling into the room with Monty's most hated sedative clutched in his hands probably wouldn't be a very good idea, even it it was to protect you.

At the twenty minute mark, his head jerks up as he hears the unmistakable 'whoosh' of Montgomery's door sliding open.

A clack of heels approaches the corner and he feels a wave of relief hit him like a truck once you step briskly into view, looking – thank god – relatively unharmed, if a little shaken up.

“There you are, sweetheart!” he calls, missing the subtle twitch of your eye as he begins marching towards you, blowing out a breathy exhale, “How's it looking in there? The gator didn't hurt you, did it?” He doesn't see you slide your hand surreptitiously behind your back, doesn't notice the soft, white handkerchief interspersed with flecks of red. “You had me so w-!”

The mechanic chokes on the rest of his sentence.

Like a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights, Mick goes utterly still and his sallow complexion drains of any lingering colour as a familiar, indomitable behemoth stalks around the corner in your wake, towering over you and casting you in a long, dark shadow that creeps along the ground towards the man's polished shoes.

Montgomery Gator, in all his terrible glory, is outside his room.

All of a sudden, the spell breaks, and Mick explodes into motion. 

His hand flies down to his belt and grasps the handle of the stun baton strapped there, bracing to yank it from its holster.

Taken aback by the unexpectedly defensive move, you stop in your tracks and recoil, back-peddling away from the mechanic until your head knocks into a hard, metal torso.

As soon as Montgomery lays optics on the weapon, any lingering lightness presiding in his chest swells to something heavier, as if someone had stuck a lead weight inside his hatch.

Quick as a flash, his crimson glare zeroes in on the man's hand and he turns rigid behind you, kicking a low, rumbling growl out of his speakers and sending it up his throat, claws splayed out wide, threatening.

“Mick!” you squeak, stepping out from underneath the gator's heaving chest and shaking your hands through the air in front of you, fixing the man with a desperate frown that begs for him to look at you, “It’s okay! Montgomery and I are just on our way to my cupboard downstairs. I asked him to help me carry some cleaning gear up to his room.”

The mechanic has a white-knuckle grip on his baton, but he tears his eyes off the animatronic to stare wildly at you instead. “I – I'm sorry. Come again?” he sputters.

“Montgomery. He's helping me,” you press, flicking your gaze pointedly towards the weapon on his hip, “There's a lot of stuff I need to carry to his room. I asked him to lend a hand.”

Squirming from foot to foot, the mechanic studies you, perhaps wondering when exactly you'd lost your mind. 

You just hope he understands what you're silently trying to convey.

'Stop,' you mouth, your heart giving a hopeful lurch when his eyes dart down to your lips, 'Put it down.'

Slowly, his focus moves from your face and travels to the stick on his belt.

“You... asked it for help?” Blinking hard, he levels his gaze back at the animatronic as his brows creep up towards his receding hair line. “And... it agreed?”

At your rapid nod, the man slumps with an audible groan, finally withdrawing his fingers from the stun-baton.

“Christ, girl,” he huffs, lifting a hand to his hair and raking his fingers through it, “Warn a guy next time you decide to take one of the bots walkabout, yeah?”

Clasping your hands together, you duck your head and begin to apologise.

Meanwhile, temporarily overlooked by the pair of you, the animatronic alligator forces his lips to slide back down over his teeth, watching the mechanic through narrowed optics.

He supposes, albeit resentfully, that he can't hold Mick entirely at fault for being so quick on the trigger.

It had only been the man's second day on the job, after all, when they had their first run-in.

Mick had perched a scalding mug of coffee on the unconscious gator's chest as he lay on the workbench inside Parts and Services.

A momentary lapse in concentration.... Sweaty, slippery palms from nerves wrung raw....

The cause was always undetermined. To this day, only Mick knows what made that mug topple over.

All Monty remembers is coming to with a jolt, the wires in his chest burning like they were on fire and his jaws locked tight around something soft and pliable.

Alarms were blaring, there was a distant scream ringing in his audio receptors, and as the world crept back into focus, he made out the newly-hired Mick Matthews beating his snout with one, clenched fist, whilst his opposite hand tried to wrench itself out from between the gator's teeth.

Monty's fingers curl at the memory.

Just another dark spot – A mere one of many in the Pizzaplex's convoluted history.

He let go, of course, the very instant he registered what was happening, almost unhinging his jaw to release the mechanic, even at the cost of ignoring his systems as they bypassed every function they could to expel the foreign liquid in his chest.

But the damage was already done.

Mick had fallen onto his backside, clutching his arm and blubbering incoherently up at the gator, who wasted no time in heaving himself off the workbench, one hand reaching out towards the human as his optics scanned frantically for any sustained injury.

Montgomery wasn't even given time to feel relief when the scan only turned up minor abrasions and superficial damage to the epidermis. Rapid footsteps thundered towards him and without a lick of warning, the agony in his chest was drowned out by an excruciating thrum of electricity that seared through his wires and zapped his CPU into silence.

When he woke up for the second time, he was back in his room. The door was locked, and he wouldn't see Mick for another week. Worse still, he’d had a lot of time to think in that week.

All the other staff resolutely pretended the incident had never occurred. Nothing bad ever happens at Freddy Fazbear’s. But Monty knew better.

And so did Mick.

“Montgomery?”

The gator flinches back into himself, the apertures of his pupils whirring as they dilate and dart down to find you peering back at him, apprehension written clear across your face like a tattoo.

You've stepped back, closer to Mick.

Something is creaking nearby, a sound that grates on his ears until he realises he's the one making the noise.

His jaw has locked shut.

This time, thankfully, there isn't a human appendage trapped between them.

Easing the hinges loose again and silencing the awful creaks, Monty urges his lower mandible to go slack, twisting his mouth into a cold snarl. “What're you lookin' at?” he grumbles, “Thought you had a job you needed help with.”

He refuses to meet your searching gaze, but from the corner of one eye, he sees you jump to attention.

“Oh yeah!” you exclaim, eager to put some distance between Mick and the animatronic, “We'd, uh... We'd better get to it.”

With that, you start to turn away from the mechanic, but you only make it a step or two before you find yourself jerked to a halt as your shoulder is abruptly snagged by a warm, trembling hand.

Unable to ignore your ensuing flinch, nor your sharp intake of breath that screams of a woman who, however briefly, expects the touch to hurt, Monty bristles, swivelling his neck down to glare coolly at the man holding you back.

Mick makes a herculean effort to ignore the surly gator in favour of slinging the rest of his arm around your shoulders and drawing you against his side, lips pressed awfully close to your ear. 

“Here,” he whispers, “Take this with you.”

Pulling a face, you attempt to step out of his grasp, but before you can, he presses a small, oblong device into your hands and at last, moves away.

You try very hard not to let out a loud sigh of relief.

Instead, you peer down at the object in your hands, your stomach sinking once you recognise it.

The stun baton.

Black and daunting, activated by the mere press of a button... You know why he's giving this to you.

And yet...

Monty said he wouldn't blow his cool out here, and you'd like to think he meant it.

Looking up at Mick, you jut out your chin and offer him a taut smile, unaware that beside you, Monty catches sight of the baton clutched in your fingers.

With a dull thud, his tail slumps to the ground.

“Thank you, Mick...” You trail off, reaching out to grab his wrist. 

He balks slightly, opening and closing his mouth like a gormless goldfish as you thrust the weapon back into his palm and add, “But, I'm not authorised to use one of these. And besides...”

Montgomery lifts his optics off the floor and peers at you, head cocked to one side.

Then, his despondency turns to cautious optimism when you turn to look at him and your smile falls to something far softer than the one you’d given Mick. “I don't think we'll need one.”

Mystified, the animatronic barely keeps himself from gawping.

Against all odds, you're smiling at him.

It isn't a sunny smile - it isn't bright or dazzling, nor especially substantial, a mere twitch of the lips at most.

But it isn't a strained smile either. It isn't one you've fashioned to try and appease him.

It's just... honest. Small and tired, matching the dark circles that lurk underneath your eyes.

Most bewilderingly of all, the gator can feel his own mouth opening to return the gesture, admittedly a far toothier one, though as swiftly as it appears, it's gone again, shaken off with a gruff sound from his throat.

“Ugh. C’mon,” he gripes, stalking between you and Mick, forcing the mechanic to take several, clumsy steps away from you, “The sooner we get my room cleaned, the sooner I can be rid of you...”

If his tail petulantly swings a little too close to Mick's legs, threatening to knock the man off his feet, nobody thinks it prudent to bring it up.

Offering the stunned manager a parting shrug, you trot after Montgomery as he heads towards the shiny, red doors leaning down into the maintenance tunnels.

He shoves through them ahead of you, letting them swing closed again in his wake, and just as you scowl and wonder if he was ever taught basic manners, one of the doors creeps open again, pushed by the tip of his sturdy tail.

He stubbornly tilts his head away from you when you reach the doorway and squeeze by, brushing your fingers absentmindedly across his forearm as you pass. “Thank you, Monty,” you utter reflexively, stealing your hand away too fast to feel his arm tense under your delicate touch.

At the point of contact, something strange happens under the panelling on his arm, like a slow wave of electricity washing from wrist to elbow. The animatronic stares at the spot where your skin met his casing until you reach the top of the stairwell and cast him a backwards glance.

“Er... Is your tail stuck in the door?” you ask, your tone cautiously playful.

Monty's head shakes rapidly from side to side and he looks up at you, schooling his expression into a hard scowl.

“No,” he protests, stomping towards you and falling into step at your back as you continue down the stairs. Then, because he can't think of anything more intelligent to say, he snappishly adds, “Shuddup!”

----

As the pair of you traipse down the maintenance tunnel, it becomes evident that a majority of the workforce have left for the evening, though there are a few stragglers who yet remain, those running late because they had a task to finish before the morning, or others who lag behind to chat inside the break rooms with their colleagues.

Desperate to appear nonchalant about the animatronic stomping along behind you, you offer polite smiles and a courteous nod or two to those fellow employees who have the misfortune of passing you by. You pretend not to notice how they try to disappear inconspicuously into dark corners or flatten themselves against the walls as you and your unusual company cut a path through the tunnels.

You suppose in the feeble, red lighting, Montgomery Gator must cut quite the imposing silhouette.

It's only when you raise your hand to wave at a deathly-pale intern that you remember you still have the handkerchief bunched up around your finger. Tutting at it, you stuff the bloody fabric into the pocket of your skirt and squint down at the cut, pleased to note that it's already little more than an ignorable, red line across your finger's pad.

“Ain't you gonna put somethin' on that?” Monty asks gruffly, letting question slide off his tongue before he can swallow it.

Offering him a flippant wave of the hand, you reply, “Nah. I've had paper cuts that bled worse than this. Don't worry, I won't get any blood on you while I clean.”

“But, what if-?” The gator slams his jaws together abruptly, cutting himself off.

That was close.

'What if it gets infected?' had been teetering on the tip of his tongue, and damn it if the voice in his CPU didn't sound just like Freddy.

Beset by stubborn pride, Montgomery clams up, refusing to finish his question even when you throw a curious look over your shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised.

He's thankful that you simply give a shrug and let the matter drop.

“It's just up here,” you tell him minutes later, pulling a key from your pocket and turning the corner, leading Monty into a side room, set back from the main tunnel.

A row of lockers are lined up against the far wall, their metal surfaces glinting in the light of a flickering, overhead bulb.

Casting a critical eye about the room, Monty ventures further inside. He's only ever seen this place in passing.

“It's really more of a glorified cloakroom,” you explain as you meander towards a little door on the left, one marked with a simple, stark-white illustration of a broom leaning up against a bucket, “We mostly use it to store our coats, boots and stuff. Or, in my case...”

Your key slides faithfully into the lock, turning with ease.

You pull open the door and the automated light flickers to life, illuminating a cramped, little space stacked from floor to ceiling with bottles, brushes and boxes chock-full of products Monty couldn't even begin to place. “Cleaning supplies!” you announce proudly.

He crowds into the cupboard after you to get a better look, pressing close over your back as you bend down to grab an empty plastic box from the bottom shelf. 

Moving to push yourself upright again, you fall deathly still when Montgomery's shadow swallows you whole. If he notices the way you fumble and almost drop the box before getting a good grip on it, he's gracious enough not to mention it.

Crouched on the ground, you gulp audibly and twist your neck around to peer up at the underside of his chin, watching it swing slowly left and right as he leans further inside, scanning the contents of the shelves. You manage to suppress a shudder and tear your eyes away from him, rising slowly to your feet, as if any sudden movement might provoke him.

It only just occurs to you that you've potentially cornered yourself in a cupboard at the end of a lonely tunnel with a temperamental and disputatious animatronic.

Excellent.

Still, what's done is done, and hopefully, the gator will continue to maintain his composure.

Monty backs up as you stand, giving you enough room to begin sorting through the products on each shelf, all the while muttering to yourself about the things you'll need to clean both he and his room.

For a time, he contents himself to just listen, carefully inspecting the bottles that you place inside your plastic tub.

He'd like to know exactly what will be going on his body.

Eventually, your arms are laden with a hefty box and you're more than ready to flee back upstairs.

Chewing at your lip, you turn and glance up at the animatronic behind you, hesitating before you shyly pipe up, “I still need to get the hoover from the back...” 

“Yeah?” he snorts, cross his arms, “And?

“You mind holding this for me?”

Your present him with the box and he inspects it for a few seconds, eventually deigning to lift it from your outstretched hands, shrugging his massive shoulders and grunting, “S'what I'm here for, ain't it?”

“Thank you,” you tell him and turn to retrieve the rest of your equipment.

With your gaze no longer on him, the gator grants himself the luxury of a rare smile.

That's the second time you've thanked him. Not that he's counting, of course. But he has to admit that the bear may have been right – It doesn't feel half bad, a little appreciation, however small.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Monty's tail sweeps lazily back and forth along the ground behind him.

“Here's the hoover,” you sigh, hauling a large, industrious machine from the back of the cupboard and dragging it towards the door.

Moving aside to let you by, Montgomery's eyes briefly glance over a splash of colour on the inside of the door, prompting him to do a double-take, blinking down at a small, dog eared photograph stuck with sellotape onto the surface.

With his curiosity piqued, he drops his head low to squint at it.

The photograph is undeniably of you, but the human smiling back at him seems a far cry from the one currently rummaging about through her pockets for the door's key with a definite crease between her brows. 

In the image, you have a beaming smile plastered across your face, almost identical to the grin worn by a familiar, jubilant animatronic who stands beside you with its long and gangly arms draped over your shoulders and its chin resting on the top of your head.

“No way,” Monty mumbles, huffing a derisive laugh and turning to raise his eyebrow at you, “You know the clown?”

“Hmm? Clown?...” You perk up when you lean around Monty's bulk and spot the photo. “Oh, you mean Sunnydrop! Yeah, I know him, why?”

The gator shrugs. “Looks like you two used to be pretty chummy.”

“We're still pretty chummy,” you smile fondly at the animatronic in the picture, “He actually makes my job easier. He's the best!”

Huffing, Monty crosses his arms roughly and scowls. “Don't let Roxy hear you sayin' that... 'Sides, what's so special about a daycare attendant anyway?” The question escapes him more sharply than he'd intended.

All the same, you're quick to step around him into the cupboard and close the door with a firm slam.

“That daycare attendant happens to be a friend of mine,” you tell him curtly, forgetting yourself as you grab the hoover and begin dragging it out of the room, deaf to the squeaky wheel that follows after you.

Monty simply raises his eyebrows at the back of your head, caught off guard by the defensive tone.

“Hey, I'd've just thought you'd think Freddy was the best,” he retorts, frowning before he softly adds, “Most people do.”

You're silent as you walk, the gentle click of your heels echoing down the hallway, and he wonders if the silence is so thick because he'd given too much away, or if you're simply tired of speaking to him.

“I wouldn't know,” you carefully admit, composed, giving nothing away to the animatronic, who tilts his head at the sound of your voice, “I've never actually met Freddy before.”

You've never met the bear?...

As your words register, Monty's CPU grinds to a halt.

….Huh.

… You've never met the bear!

He’s ashamed of the glee that spreads through his circuits like a virus.

At last.

At long, long last. Something he can have to himself. Someone who can't compare him to Freddy, because she doesn't even know Freddy!

Oblivious to the gator's surprised grin, you clear your throat and hum thoughtfully. “Now, Sunnydrop - Well, what can I say? He's funny, he's great with kids, he's meticulous about cleaning, and he's always happy to see me...”

“Sounds like a real catch,” Monty remarks distractedly.

You have to cover your mouth to hold onto an abrupt bark of laughter. “Oh, god. Don't say it like that.” Sighing wistfully, you roll a shoulder and add, “It's just... it's nice. Being around somebody who appreciates what you do every now and again, you know?”

Funnily enough, he's starting to understand the sentiment all too well.

-------

With Montgomery's help, you lug everything to the top of the stairwell, at last reaching the door to Rockstar Row.

“Just a sec, let me get the door,” you tell the animatronic, receiving a low grunt of acknowledgment.

Shouldering opening the entrance, you're so busy tugging your hoover through behind you that when your attention turns forwards once more, you very nearly crash straight into a large, robust chest.

“Oh!” you blurt out, springing backwards and almost tripping over the hoover.

“Oh dear,” a sonorous, yet kindly voice exclaims in response, “I am so, terribly sorry, I did not mean to startle you!”

A sensation, unfamiliar and uninvited, sinks deep into Monty's wires when he shoves his way through the door and sees who you've run into. He'd liken the feeling to that of defeat.

But it isn’t the same kind of defeat he experienced those scant-few times he lost a round of gator golf.

No... This kind of defeat feels... unplumbed. A little poignant.

If he could be bothered to delve into his own subroutines for a moment, he might find that it feels like he's just lost something a bit more consequential than a simple game of golf.

The gator's sturdy frame droops minutely and his fingers curl around the plastic box you'd handed him, splintering the edges underneath his crushing grip.

Even his mohawk seems to wilt over on one side.

He may as well never have bothered helping you lug all of your products up here. You're bound to forget all about him, the cake in his hatch and the mess of his show room within the next few minutes.

After all, you've just run headlong into Freddy Fazbear.

[teknicaldifficulties]

perhabs,, early relationship, Paul wanting affection but being anxious and not knowing how to go about it?

Ceej, you understand me and my Paul hcs on a spiritual level, thank you for my rights and an excuse to write soft nonsense. It's uh... It's a little long.

Being in an honest-to-god romantic relationship was taking a bit of re-getting used to for Paul. He hadn't dated anyone since college, and suddenly wham, he's head over heels for a cute, snarky barista who seems to return his affections. It was odd, but no less wonderful, feeling his heart flutter in his chest whenever Emma so much as smiled at him. He hadn't felt this way about someone in damn near a decade, and then this beautiful 5'0 biology student walked into his life, and god, his brain just didn't know how to handle it.

Paul and Emma had started seeing each other around late October, hooking up in the Beanies break room during a Halloween party her boss Nora had thrown. It was mid-December now, a week and a half before Christmas, and things were still going strong between them. Though there had been... something strange on Paul's mind for a few weeks now, something that had never bothered him before in his past relationships.

Paul was a tactile guy with people he liked, something his friends all knew well. He was never sure exactly how he'd rank the five love languages as applied to himself, but touch was definitely his number one. Casual shoulder squeezes and light nudges were common gestures of his among friends, as Bill could easily attest. With romantic partners, this was cranked up a bit. Lots of light kisses to their temple or resting his hand on their back, stuff like that. It was always the easiest way for him to show that he cared. His partners... were never as tactile as him. It was very all give and no take on Paul's end when it came to physical affection, and he hadn't really minded it. At least, he was pretty sure he hadn't...

But now? With Emma? Her touch was something he actively craved. And it's not as if Emma never touched him outside of sex, far from it, she was probably the most physically affectionate partner Paul had ever had. She held his hand, kissed his cheek, cuddled up against him during movie nights, and gave him playful little jabs in the side when he was being a smartass. But she wasn't quite as casually affectionate as Paul was with her, and he couldn't help but wish she was.

And sweet jesus christ, did Paul find it embarrassing. It made him feel like some dopey lovesick teenager whenever he thought about it. Like, what was he supposed to do? Ask her to touch him more often? He'd sound like a total fucking weirdo if he tried to explain it to her. But still, he couldn't help but think about it a lot.

It had been a lazy Sunday evening, the one day of the week when neither half of the couple had work. And of course, they were... taking advantage of their day off, as it were. On Paul's living room couch, no less. They'd just finished up, and Emma had gone off to use his shower and whatnot. After washing up a bit, Paul had promptly put some comfy sleepwear on (because it was December in Michigan and Paul was not one to lounge around in the nude with temperatures like that outside), and was now absentmindedly channel surfing whilst laying on the couch.

Nearly half an hour later, Emma had emerged from the bathroom, hair tied into a braid and clad in a bright red hoodie that Paul recognized as his own. He couldn't help but smile, it was so big on her, and she looked adorable in it.

"Find anything to watch while I was in there?" she asked.

"Hallmark movies, a bunch of stock Christmas faire, and like three separate Harry Potter marathons," Paul replied. "None of which I'm particularly interested in watching, so we might have to retreat to the DVD shelf again."

Emma shrugged. "Hey, fine by me, TV edits are usually garbage fires anyway," she said. She strode over to the other side of the living room, where Paul kept his DVDs, and eyed the shelf. After a minute or two, she plucked a case off the shelf, snickering. "Monty Python: Life of Brian, that's a Christmas movie, right?"

"Absolutely," Paul quipped. "Anything can be a Christmas movie if you stretch the definition enough."

"Good, because I wanna watch Monty Python."

After popping the disk in, she turned back to the couch, and Paul sat up to give her some room. As she sat back down, Paul took in the sight of her. God, she was lovely. And she looked so cozy in his hoodie, it was hard not to find the sight of her absolutely heart-melting. His heart fluttered a bit, he was getting that feeling again. Unfortunately, Paul found himself staring at her instead of the screen for a bit too long, and she took notice.

"Paul?" she piped up, snapping him out of his trance with a befuddled smile. "You good, babe?"

Paul felt his cheeks flush. Had she ever called him "babe" before? "It's, uh... it's nothing," he stammered unconvincingly. "I just zoned out for a bit."

Emma, being the observant person she was, eyed him with skepticism. "You look like you have something on your mind," she noted. "What's up?"

Well, shit. Feeling his face burn hotter, Paul attempted to weasel himself out of this inevitable awkward conversation.

"N-nothing's up, I'm fine!" he tried to assure her, perhaps too defensively to sound convincing.

"That's the voice of a man who definitely has something up," Emma observed. She grabbed the remote, and paused the film before continuing. "Something's bothering you, Paul, I can tell."

"It-it's just..." Paul tried to begin, feeling momentarily reassured by Emma's soft gaze. But when the right words wouldn't come to him, he groaned and buried his flushing face in his hands. God, why was he like this? "Nevermind, it's really stupid, can we just watch the movie, please?"

"Paul, I know stupid, I work at Beanies," Emma retorted playfully, earning a brief chuckle from Paul. "Whatever's bothering you, it can't be any worse than the shit my co-workers complain about on the daily. I promise you I won't laugh."

Paul removed his hands from his face, meeting her gentle gaze once more. "You mean it?"

She nodded. "I'm all ears."

Exhaling a deep breath, Paul took a moment to think of how to word his self-imposed predicament in the least stupid way possible. Probably best to start small.

"Um, y'know how... when we watch movies or whatever together," he began, trying to force himself to talk above a whisper. "You'll like, lean against my chest, and I'll wrap my arms around you and play with your hair and all that?"

Emma nodded, looking somewhat confused. "Yeah...?"

"Do you think we could... do that the other way around this time?"

There was a brief moment of silence, and Paul was pretty sure his face had turned a shade of red that had only ever been seen by shrimp before. Jesus, that must've sounded so stupid.

"That's all?" Emma asked.

Yep, there it was. Paul looked down at his lap again, embarrassed beyond belief. "Basically, yeah..." he chuckled despite himself. "I know, I know, it's really dumb, and I probably got you all worried for nothing-"

"Whoa, whoa, Paul, slow down!" Emma cut him off, reaching out to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She smiled at him softly. "I mean, sure! If that's what you want, we can do it!"

Paul took another deep breath. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Emma replied. She leaned back on the arm of the couch, and opened her arms. "Come on, bring it in."

Still nervous and flustered, Paul slowly eased himself against Emma, resting his head against her chest. He could feel her heartbeat, even through the thick fabric of the hoodie. Emma rested one hand on his back, and began to thread her fingers through his hair, just like he would do with her. Paul felt a chill go down his spine. God, he forgot how much he loved having his hair stroked. He wrapped his arms around her torso, face still flushing like nobody's business.

"How's that?" Emma asked, undoubtedly noticing the ridiculous smile that had forced itself onto his face.

"Wonderful..." he sighed, finally beginning to calm down a bit. "Thanks, Emma."

"No prob," Emma snickered, still stroking his hair. "But before we un-pause the movie, can I ask why it was such an ordeal for you to ask me about this?"

"It's kinda hard to articulate," Paul explained, adjusting himself so that he wasn't muffled by the hoodie. "My, um... my past partners weren't really the, uh... the affectionate kinda types, y'know? So it just kinda felt weird to ask you to... do this... I guess..."

"...Well," Emma began after a moment's pause. "I'm not your past partners, so I'd be more than happy to do this more often."

"You would?" Paul inquired hopefully.

"If it makes you feel as loved as it makes me feel," Emma said, rubbing a calming circle between his shoulder blades with her thumb. "Then I'll do it anytime."

Paul could've melted right then and there. He was loved... In a somewhat indirect way, Emma said she loved him. Perhaps now was the time...

"Thanks again, Em," he said, slightly choked up. He craned his neck a bit to press a kiss to her neck. "I, um... I love you."

Emma briefly paused in her stroking of his hair, only to resume moments later, and press a kiss to his forehead.

"I... I love you too, Paul."

[itstittycitybaby]

Flirty (Lin Beifong x reader) Part 5

a/n: brooooo. liinnnnnn. pulllll uuppppppp brooooo. kiss?? kiss for monty?? right here?? please?? also this took like. two fucking hours to write lmao. i just want that to be known.

Warnings: This is VERY angsty and sad. Proceed with caution.

You waved Opal off with the others as the airship left. It was sad having to see her go. You knew she’d do great training with the other airbenders. She was so sweet and clever. Opal seemed excited to join the other benders at the air temple. Even though you felt happy for her it didn’t stop the ping of jealousy in your heart. Maybe if you had finally become a bender your mother and father would’ve been proud of you. Maybe they would finally love you.

You glanced to your side. Lin stood next to you with her arms were crossed and and a frown on her face. She looked annoyed and tired. You snickered. “What are you laughing at?” You shook your head, grinning. “Nothing. Couldn’t help but realize how grumpy you are. Sad to see her go?” Lin scoffed. It seems like you were right. 

The sky was pink and purple as the sun set. The metal shields whirred to life, slowly covering the pretty sky. You watched them sadly as they closed in on one another. The sky was so beautiful at night. If only you could see it.

*****

The metal roof was cool underneath you. Azure was curled up in the collar of your turtle neck sleeping. Ruby pecked at the bird seed in your hands gently. The lights in Zaofu glowed softly, illuminating the streets. It was really a beautiful city.

Lin was more distant lately. She didn’t seem to pay any attention to you or care about the others. You knew that it’d happen eventually, but it still hurt. It made  the stone in your stomach roll more. It sunk heavily underneath the surface and jabbed at your heart. The anxiety of being abandoned still jostled and tore at your soul. It never seemed to go away. At this point you figured it never would.

 Thirty years was a long time. So much had happened in thirty years. A lot of loss and heartbreak had tore you down, leaving you on the ground defenseless. Even though life seemed to always strike you down you stilled waited. Waiting for a miracle to happen as you laid there reflecting. Now, it seemed like it was your chance. It didn’t matter how long it could take. You’d always wait for Lin.

She still held a fondness for you. Her eyes softened for a second once she saw you and she wasn’t as snarky. It was a start. As much as you wanted to kiss her face and hold her close, Lin needed time. She was impatient but you weren’t. The waiting game was something you were incredibly talented at. Thirty years of waiting you thought was the test. Now, it seemed like it was more of a test than ever. You glanced up at the covered sky. The stars had always comforted you before, it was a shame they were hidden now.

Ruby stilled in your hand, peering into the distance. “What is it Ruby,” you asked, jutting your head forward. Your eyes narrowed and your brows tugged together. Azure pecked you in the neck for waking him up. “Sorry drama queen, but you gotta go home!” Immediately, Azure flew out of your collar. You watched him go until he was out of sight. “Ruby, go fetch Lin! Bring her to me.” She sqwaked and flapped her wings. Grabbing your grappling hook, you aimed it at a crevice in the building in front of you. The button was smooth once you pressed it with the pad of your thumb. It shot out immediately making a soft swoosh sound. It clinked softly against the beam you aimed it at and swung you forward. Rotating your hips, you glided into the air. You wiggled slightly for better control and momentum. Your boots met the roof and your grappling hook quietly zipped back in place. Once you got to your destination,  you rolled onto the pavement with a soft thud. In the distance you could see them. Four people were creeping at a window. Korra.

****

“What,” Lin groaned, tugging her pillow over her head. Ruby shrieked and pecked at her fingers. She tried swatting at the bird but to no avail, Ruby wouldn’t let go. “Ow! Little shit. When I find them they’re gonna-”

Boom! Lin bolted up from her bed, flinging open her door she saw Mako and Bolin tumbling onto the pavement. Bang, Bang. Lin snapped her head. Speak of the devil.

There were two weapons clutched in your hands tightly. They were shooting out some weird metal pellets. You grunted as you swiftly dodged some sort of water arm. “Lin,” you shouted, “They’ve got Korra!” Lin broke into a sprint, guarding Mako and Bolin as they came back to their senses. Her scanned the area quickly and followed where you aimed. Four people stood in the middle of the court yard. There was a woman flailing her arms at anyone who dared to come closer, along with a lady that was creating explosions with her mind.

 Lin rose her fists and the metal around Korra’s attackers surrounded them. Your pellets hit the metal as soon as they came up. You cursed, taking cover behind a fallen pillar and loaded your pistols again. Suyin and her sons ran to you raising the rest of the metal around the attackers. All four of them were trapped.

“We have you surrounded it’s over!” Ruby landed on your shoulder as you trained your eyes on the target. “Good girl Rubes,” you whispered, stroking her softly. Suddenly, a rumbling noise shook the ground under you. Lava lazily slid out from the metal panes. “Lava bender,” you shouted, “Everyone, hop back!” You jumped back a few feet from the quickly pooling lava. The metal fell with a creak from the lava. It surrounded them, pushing you all fifteen feet away from Korra.

“No way. That guy’s lava bending! That’s awesome!..ly not good for us,” Bolin murmured. You stifled a laugh. Lin glared at you with her fists clenched. You shrugged in reply before getting back to the fight.

****

An explosion was sent your way for what felt like the twentieth time. You barely dodged it; the wind of it grazed your side. Ruby fluttered about, dodging their attacks swiftly. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to be by your side or fly from the danger. You couldn’t blame her; you wished you were back on the metal roof and not having your joints aching like hell. Ducking, you behind a metal pane as soon as another explosion swept by. Your boots skidded onto the pavement. Ruby flew to your side immediately. “You’re doing great girl,” you comforted her. 

Lin, Mako, Bolin, and Asami joined you behind the metal cover. “What should we do,” Bolin cried as he and Mako started hurling fire and rocks at the attackers’ way. Asami crouched in nothing but her nightgown. “Hey Asami?” “Yea?” You handed her one of your daggers. “Just in case,” you said, sending her a smile. She looked thankful as she gripped it.

“Look,” Lin shouted, pointing to the airbending guy. “They’ve been split up now!” A guard somehow had managed to get him away from the group. In the distance you could see Korra laying on the rock with lava around it. Mako hurled another fire ball at the explosion lady but the water bender blocked it with her arms. The chick focused on the four of you, a lazer starting to form from her forehead.

The explosion collided with another metal plane. Asami snapped her head behind her. Suyin and her sons blocked the lazer just in time. They caught up with the five of you and all eight of you huddled for protection. Your body blocked anything coming Asami’s way as you stood on the defense side of fighting.

 “How did they get in here,” Lin yelled over the explosions. “I don’t know, but they won’t get away,” Suyin exclaimed. 

“There’s no way to cross,” Asami muttered, as she watched the guards being flung from the metal bridge they had built to the four criminals. Suyin eyes narrowed as she observed the scene in front of her. Her green eyes lit up as an idea striked through her head. “We don’t need to. Lin and I can get up there and use our cables.” “Good idea,” Lin replied, following her gaze to where her sister looked. “How are we going to get past her?” You followed Lin’s eyes. “Don’t worry. Bolin and I will have your back.” Her brows furrowed. “How?” “I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “But you have to trust me.”

Lin furrowed her brows. She didn’t say anything but eventually agreed. “Alright, I trust you.” You smiled. “Take Ruby with you.” “Why?” “I don’t want her getting hurt. Besides, she’ll be the first to warn you in the air.” Lin looked at you with disbelief but stretched her arm out to the red bird anyway. “Take care of her Rubes,” you whispered, as Lin and Suyin disappeared into the air.

You raised your pistols. “Bolin! I need you to hit the third eye lady!” Bolin yelled, “I can’t get a good shot!” “Keep trying,” you yelled, firing more pellets.

****

Bolin’s rock hit her square in the head. She stumbled, and her face pulled in anger. Taking this as your shot, you fired a pellet in her damn forehead. Lightening shot out once it made contact. “Holy,” Bolin and Mako murmured at the same time. The lightening traveled through her body and it reached her face. A scream ripped out of her chest. The water armed lady snapped her head towards her. Lin’s eyes widened in shock as the explosion chick toppled over. “Lin!” Suyin’s voice snapped her out of her surprised state. Taking this as her chance, Lin grabbed Korra, swinging her over her shoulder. Korra groaned but laid limp. Ruby’s screeching pierced through Lin’s ears. Lin swung her hips to the right and the water bender’s arm reached out to were she was seconds ago. “Clever bird,” Lin muttered, eyes wide as she slowly raised up into the hidden panel.

The air bender scooped up the unconscious third eye lady. The lava bender and the water bender sent a death glared towards you. “We failed! Move out,” he commanded. Twirling his staff with one hand, he swept  air above the four of them. It became darker and darker from the smoke and flames. The four of you coughed from choking on smoke. When the air bubble slowly dissipated, they were gone.

****

Korra laid on one of the green couches in Su’s study. She was awake but her voice was hoarse. Lin and Suyin hovered over her as Aiwei treated Korra. Bolin, Mako, and Asami sat on the couch across from them. Asami had given you your dagger back once you all met up in Suyin’s study. Ruby stood on your shoulder with you by the door. She wasn’t hurt thankfully, but she was very skittish. “You’ll be getting all the almonds you want tomorrow,” you told her, stroking her feathers. She tweeted softly, beak nuzzling your hand softly.

“You assured me this was the safest place in the world,” Lin said harshly as Korra drank the bottle Aiwei gave her. “It is,” Suyin argued defensively, “don’t blame me! It was well planned, how could I have known?!” Your face tugged in thought as you listened to their arguing. The metal shields that came up prevented from anything entering or leaving. There was no way they could’ve got in..unless...

“You have a traitor in your city Suyin,” you said softly. “That’s how they got in.” Aiwei got up and cast Suyin an apologetic look. “They’re right. It seems the four of them had some inside knowledge in Zafou.”

“We searched throughout the entire estate. There’s no sign of them.” A guard stood in the doorway of Suyin’s study. “Well keep looking,” Lin snapped. They nodded and left.

“The- The guards. It had to be one of them.” You all snapped to Korra. She rubbed her head with the heel of her palm as she sat up. She sounded so weak. “I agree,” Aiwei said. “Question them all!” Suyin sounded so angry. You cast a glance towards Lin. Her brows had sunk in anger and her green eyes twinkled dangerously. Everyone looked nervous and afraid. “This has been one hell of a night,” you mumbled to yourself. “I could use a drink.”

****

“We’re getting no where,” Lin growled, as Aiwei dismissed the guard. “Things like this take time Lin,” you reassured her softly. “We’ll find them.” Lin grumbled and crossed her arms. Bolin looked at her surprised. Usually she’d snap and berate anyone who dared to talk back at her. Now that he thought of it, Lin never seemed to snap at you. He tilted his head at you questioningly. You waved him off, eyes turning back to watch the interrogations.

“You should be doing this,” Lin huffed, turning to you. “It’s your area of field after all.” You hummed, “You’re not wrong.” Suyin interjected, “Aiwei is a trusted member of my council. He’s family. Are you saying he can’t be trusted?” 

“It’s better to investigate everyone,” you said. “Never know who it could be.” “Exactly,” Lin gritted out narrowing her eyes at Suyin. Su scoffed at her. “Are you insinuating it could’ve been me.” “Someone higher up could’ve done it.” Suyin rolled her eyes. “Fine. Aiwei question me. I’ve got nothing to hide.” He nodded, “If you wish.”

****

Suyin rose from her chair. “She is telling the truth,” Aiwei confirmed, turning to Lin. She groaned. She couldn’t believe this. Zaofu was supposed to be the safest city in the world. Who let these criminals infiltrate the city? Aiwei’s eyes turned to you. They narrowed suspiciously. “Oh my god,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re not even considering me are you?” “Sit.” You sighed, moving around Korra to the chair across from Aiwei.

“There’s no way they could’ve done it,” Bolin interjected. “They were the first ones there! If they were on their side they would’ve been with the others!” “It’s fine Bolin,” you reassured him. At least someone had your back. “It’s just an investigation.” He shrunk but you could see his green eyes still filled with worry.

****

“They’re lying.” “What?” You laughed in disbelief. “I didn’t do it!” “(Y/N).” Your eyes snapped to Lin’s. Surely, she had to believe you. Oh how wrong you were. Lin’s eyes were cold as she stared into your soul. Her fists clenched by her sides and her aura felt betrayed. The blood in your veins ran cold. The air in the room felt suffocating and your heart tore into two. She didn’t believe him did she? “I suggest we search their place.”

They all got up and left for your chambers. Except for Lin. “Lin-” “Don’t. Say. Anything.” Her hard voice made you flinch. Lin shook her head in disbelief. Her back was turned to you, trembling. Lin swallowed thickly before muttering, “None of this was real.” Her voice shoke with every word she spoke. Lin shook her head one last time before leaving.

****

“This is a mistake!” The sound of the guards harshly pulling your drawers out and threw your clothes out rang in your ears. This can’t be real, this can’t be happening. “Hey!” A couple of guards shuffled through the plans on your desk aggressively. Ruby and Azure screeched in their cages. “Be careful with that,” you shouted as a guard picked up a project you had been working on for Suyin. You watched them helplessy destroy your chambers. All you could do was stand there and watch all of your hard work be destroyed. They went as far as flinging off the sheets from your bed along with the comfy pillows. 

“Found it!” Mako called, holding up a slip of paper from your desk. Suyin and Lin’s head perked up. Korra and Bolin stiffened behind them. Aiwei’s hand reached out for the slip of paper. Mako handed it to him sending a glare your way. Your jaw clenched tightly, but you didn’t say anything. Aiwei’s eyes widened and he lifted his head to you. “Team assembled. Ready to Rendezvous.” “And look at this,” Asami piped up from the bookshelf. She handed Aiwei a green book with fancy gold carvings on it. The silence in the room as he read through the pages made your heart sink even lower. The whole world was against you.“It’s the guards logs,” he muttered darkly as he flipped through it. “It’s filled with routes and their schedules.” 

“No,” you whispered. “It wasn’t me!” “Guards, seize them.” “Hey,” you shouted, as the guards swept towards you. Their hands tightened on your arms and they hauled you up. You swung your legs trying to get out of their grasp. “Wait a minute,” Bolin shouted, “Let them talk.” “We have enough evidence.” Lin. You snapped your eyes up to hers as the guards hauled you at. Her eyes were cold and unforgiving. She felt betrayed. She trusted you. They all trusted you. You were finally in her grasp and she latched on too quickly. She allowed the avatar to be vulnerable, because she trusted someone who wanted nothing to do with her years ago. This is why we can only trust ourselves, a voice told her, this is why we’re alone. “Take them to the interrogation room.” The doors swung closed muffling your shouts of protest. Lin felt her heart shatter again. No one said a word as they eventually shuffled out one by one. “Lin-” “I don’t want to hear it Suyin,” she muttered to her sister. “Just leave me alone.” Suyin’s eyes fell but she didn’t say anything. She gave a slight nod and left. The doors closed softly behind her. All Lin could hear was the soft twittering of your parakeets and the clock ticking on the wall. A cry left her throat. The tears flowed freely now and she raised her hand to her mouth, clamping it shut. Lin felt like she was going to vomit. She stood in the destroyed room alone. Paper was scattered and torn on the floor.

Lin clenched her jaw tightly. It begun to ache from her teeth grinding so hard. Another cry left Lin’s throat. She was a damn fool.

****

The cuffs on the table were cutting into your wrists. They were heavy and cold. The circulation in your blood was being cut off. Your ass felt numb from the stiff metal chair you were trapped in. The cold, sturdy metal dug into you. How long had it been?  Minutes? Hours? There wasn’t a way to tell. Tears welled in your eyes. Lin looked so disgusted with you. She wouldn’t listen to you. It was perfect, too perfect. Everyone was now against you in a matter of minutes. How was the evidence there? Someone must of snuck into your room and planted it there. But when? 

Aiwei. You chuckled; there was no joy or humor in it. “That bastard,” you snarled, nails digging into your skin. You ignored the pain that flared up in your palms.

Creak. The metal door opened slowly.You perked your head up at the it. You felt the lump in your throat tighten at the sight of her. Lin stood in front of you with no emotion on her face. Her green eyes were dull and her posture was upright once she sat down. There wasn’t an ounce of softness in her eyes anymore. The light had been replaced by hate. “I swear to you didn’t do it,” you whispered weakly, head hanging low. “I would never put you or Korra in danger.” “Liar.” You snapped up to her. Lin swallowed thickly as she peered into your soul. Her eyes were hallow. You’d rather have her look at you with anger then seeing her eyes filled with nothing.

 “I wouldn’t hurt you Lin. What could I gain by forming an attack on you and the avatar? You know I care about you.” Lin’s jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed into angry slits. “You think your words are going to make me care? I thought you were better than that. Now, I don’t know what to believe anymore. ” Her tone was cold. The walls around her were back up again. She looked at you with disgust. But more importantly, she looked at you with hurt in her eyes. 

“The evidence. Explain that.” “It’s not mine..Aiwei...” you whispered. The tears in your eyes fell freely. Your lips pulled back into a grimace and you whimpered. The darkness in the room swallowed you. “Are you claiming that he had something to do with it? How childish, now you’re putting the blame on someone else. Grow up.” Her words made you flinch. No longer was it Lin sitting in front of you. It was your mother.

 “Please... you have to believe me I-” “(Y/n).” You looked up at her. “Who were those people?” “I don’t know,” you replied, voice slightly raising. Lin arched a brow. Your stress levels were high. It was dark, it was too dark and you felt like the room was choking closing in on you. The woman you loved now looked at you with hatred in your eyes. Your breathing became shallow and you choked on the stale air in this shitty interrogation room.

“Breathe,” Lin commanded, “Get your fucking shit together!” Her hands slammed down on the table. It echoed throughout the cold and dark interrogation room. You swallowed your breath and choked an exhale out. Tears poured out of your eyes. Your heart in your chest was being sliced up and bruised from Lin’s harsh words. Spirits, why was everything spinning so fast.

I didn’t want it to come to this,” you whimpered. “I never wanted this to happen.” She swallowed thickly. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. Do I even matter to you?” You sniffled, “Of..Of course Lin. H-how could you say that? I told you I’d do anything for you!” Her nostrils flared. “Then why are you lying to me?” “I’m not,” you cried. “I’m not, I do love you Lin.” Lin’s eyes widened. Her eyes started to water and her throat tightened. She refused to cry in front of you. She had been weak before, she wouldn’t be weak now. “No, you never meant a single word that you said to me. You’re a damn liar.” Your lip quivered and you let out a whimper. Everything was falling apart.

She looked so disgusted with you. Your presence was a reminder of how frail she really was. Lin would never be the strong and tough woman she had always aspired to be. You saw the cracks in her facade and manipulated her for your own gain. Everyone’s life was on the line because of her. Korra almost got kidnapped because she had been so careless. Lin was ashamed at herself for believing your lies and making her feel happy again.

“You know what? I was wrong. You never really meant anything to me. You’re broken, you’re beyond fixing, you’re not something I want to take the time to handle.” You bit your quivering lip. You choked on the cry that wanted to cry its way out of your throat from swallowing it. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

She slowly rose up from her chair. The clinking of her metal armor was the only sound in the room. Her hand hovered over the door handle. “Lin.” She stiffened. Your voice sounded so heartbroken and sad. Her hand balled up into fists as she turned back to look at you. It hurt more having to see the tears and fear in your eyes. “Don’t give up one me.. I can’t loose you too.” Lin laughed. You flinched; the pain in her laugh echoed in the small dark room. “This is all your fault. It always comes back to this with you doesn’t it? Save your tears.”

“Why can’t we talk about this? Why can’t we just-” “Does it ever occur to you that I’m done talking? That I am done reflecting my words and actions? Can’t you just take a fucking hint that I’m done with you? I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” You didn’t say anything. The tears made your vision blurry. The stunned silence gave the cue to Lin that it was time to leave. “Hope you’re proud, I’m done here.”

The sound of the door slamming shut was the thing that broke your resolve. The dam you had tried so hard to close had its walls torn open. Sobs left your trembling body. You cried so hard your throat begun to ache and your face became sluggish. Aiwei’s actions had been your undoing. Now, you were the one paying the price.

[wonderful-writer]

02 - Not Alone

Summary: As tensions rise in camp between Bellamy, Wells, and Y/n, word comes that the 100 are not alone, and they have Jasper. Y/n journeys with Bellamy and the others, determined to save her brother.

Word Count: 2.58k

Based off: 1x02 “Earth Skills”

You and Wells spent the morning burying the two boys who had died on the dropship after taking their clothes to give to the others who needed it. The air was fresh but the sun was hot on your skin, irritating you. When you questioned Wells about why he no longer had his wristband, he sighed and just uttered Bellamy’s name.

He put his jacket back on and you each brought half of the clothes you salvaged back to camp. Kids were beating each other up over things and pounding on makeshift drums and you rolled your eyes at the couple making out under a tree on the forest floor. Someone came up to you both and asked where you got the clothes. 

“Buried the two kids who died during the landing,” Wells answered.

“Smart. You know what, I’ll just take it from here.” He attempted, grabbing the clothes from your arms but you turned defensively.

“We share based on need, just like back home.” Wells defended as Bellamy walked out of the drop-ship, shirtless, and some random girl following behind him.

“You still don’t get it, do you, Chancellor?” He asked, throwing a smirk your way once he noticed you before kissing the girl and sending her off. You had to resist the urge to gag.

“This is home now. Your father's rules no longer apply.” He said as he walked towards you both and grabbed the shirt from your arms, a devilish smirk crossed his lips again when he locked eyes with you, causing you to roll them in disgust. Wells went after Bellamy as the boy stopped him, but Bellamy called his name.

“Atom, Atom, hold up.” He faced Wells again. 

“You want it, take it.” When Wells didn’t move, Bellamy slipped the shirt over his head. You and Wells threw the clothes over onto the ground as every teen nearby dove for them. 

“Is this what you want? Chaos?” Wells asked as he pointed to the pile of delinquents.

“What’s wrong with a little chaos?” Bellamy responded just as a girl screamed in fear.

You three went over to investigate, seeing none other than Murphy holding a girl over the fire. “Bellamy! You want the Ark to think that the ground is killing us, right? Figured it’ll look better if we suffer a little bit first.”

You charged at Murphy before anyone else had a chance to react, pushing him to the ground and forcing him to release the girl, watching her scramble away from the scene. 

“You can stop this.” You said, panting.

“Stop this? Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.” He smirked again as he looked around while you gagged inwardly at the nickname.

Murphy landed a strong punch to your cheek, the pain radiating to the rest of your face. You fell to the ground from the surprise attack but quickly pushed yourself back up and charged at Murphy, punching him in the nose. He stumbled but harshly punched you in the gut. Yout tackled him and landed punch after punch to his face before he overpowered you and kicked you in the stomach to get you off of him.

Bellamy stood and watched worriedly with Wells as the kids around you chanted. You channelled most of the anger you’ve kept bottled up into overpowering him once again, landing punch after punch before slamming him into the ground.

Getting off of him, you turned to Bellamy. “Don’t you see you can’t control this?” You said, pointing a finger to Murphy before wiping some of the blood from your lip.

Murphy got back up and pulled out his knife, boring holes into your back. “You’re dead.”

Bellamy finally intervened with a loud, “Wait,” And you thought he finally listened to you until he pulled out another knife. 

“Fair fight.” He said before tossing it at your feet. Swiftly, you picked it up and twisted it in your hands, secretly relishing in the feeling of the dagger in your grip.

Murphy advanced on you but you turned, dodging the jab. He did this a few more times but you always bent out of the path of the blade, now thankful for the ballet classes you attended when you were younger. 

You used his momentum and thrusts to your advantage, ducking and using your leg to swipe his feet off of the ground and watch him fall onto his back. You heard the air escape from his lungs as his back slammed on the ground, the crowd letting out a collective ‘ooh’ in sympathy. 

He stood once again, angrier than before. He ran for you and extended his blade forward, ready to cut you on any part of you that you left vulnerable. You spun yourself gracefully out of his path, braids whipping your face in response to the movements.

He slashed your right forearm when you attempted to dodge his next attack and you groaned at the pain as some of the onlookers gasped. You then grabbed his arm when he advanced on you again, pinning it behind your back and putting the dagger to his throat.

“Drop the knife!” You yelled into his ear, the boiling hot anger of your past flowing freely for the first time.

“Y/n! Let him go!” Clarke called as you shoved him down and backed away. He immediately tried to attack once more before Bellamy stopped him. 

“Stop! Enough, Murphy.” He growled before he got sight of Octavia.

“Where’s the food?” He asked. You felt the pain in your arm start to increase and you looked down at the slash, seeing blood slowly dripping down your arm and sliding off of your fingertips. “Where’s Jasper?” You asked.

“We were attacked,” Clarke responded.

“Attacked? By what?” Wells asked.

“Not what. Who. It turns out, the last man from the ground that died on the Ark, he wasn’t the last grounder.” Finn explained. Clarke went on to explain more, but the increasing dizziness made it hard for you to keep up. You kept your focus long enough to look around again.

“Where is Jasper?” You asked, this time with more intensity, glaring at Clarke, who now had a double of herself beside her.

“Jasper was hit,” She told you sadly. “They took him.” Clarke diverted her attention to Wells and you felt yourself swaying on your feet.

Every word that was spoken from that point on was just a loud ringing in your ears, the sunlight blinding you and the mild heat burning your skin. Someone started yelling, which made the ringing worse, causing your head to feel like it was on fire. You groaned as other people started to yell too, and then everything went quiet.

You looked down to see a small puddle of blood from your forearm as an echo of Bellamy’s voice called out to you. He entered your vision, splitting into four other Bellamy’s before you fell to the side and darkness engulfed your senses.

You woke back up on the drop-ship with Monty and Clarke. You groaned and saw your arm was patched up. “What happened?” You asked groggily.

“You collapsed. The cut Murphy gave you was pretty deep, but I fixed it up for you.” Clarke stood when you nodded, along with Monty. 

“Where are you guys going?” You stood with them as Clarke looked back at you.

“I’m going to go get Jasper. You’re staying here.” She demanded.

“No.” You defied. “I’m going with you.”

She scoffed and put a hand on your shoulder. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. He’s practically my brother, Clarke. He's all I have left, I can’t lose him. Let me come. Please.” Your strong and steady voice turned soft and pleading as you held her wrist loosely. She sighed and nodded before walking out, turning back once more to talk over her shoulder. 

“Be careful while we’re out there, or so help me God.”

You met up with Clarke and Wells, noticing that Bellamy and Murphy were coming along as well. Scoffing, you fell into line with a currently feuding Wells and Clarke as Bellamy called out to you. 

“Hey, sweetheart! You sure you should be out here?” The taunting smirk that you saw on his face when you turned around to answer him caused more anger to boil up inside you but you calmed yourself and turned to face straight ahead again as you replied.

“More qualified than you, Blake.” The sure tone in your voice caught Bellamy off guard as Murphy began to laugh, but a whack and groan were heard before he stopped.

After walking through the woods for a while, you walking the fastest, Bellamy spoke up again. 

“Hey, hold up! What’s the rush? You don’t survive a spear through the heart.” He asked, waving his gun around.

“Jasper screamed when they moved him. If the spear hit his heart, he would have died instantly. It doesn’t mean we have time to waste.” Clarke said.

She turned to continue but Bellamy grabbed her wrist. “As soon as you take the wristband off, we can go.” He smirked.

“The only way the Ark is gonna think I’m dead is if I’m dead.” She sneered and Bellamy let go with a smug smile on his face. You, however, continued walking.

“Can we hurry this up? God, if we didn’t need you I’d take that gun and shoot you myself.” You spat.

Finn then came through the shrubbery and decided that everyone split up, taking Clarke with him and going ahead while you, Wells, Murphy, and Bellamy stayed behind before carrying on a bit further behind. You take up the rear and drowning everything out, allowing the thoughts about what could have happened to Jasper take over.

You could still hear Bellamy’s voice, adding annoyance to the worry you had already felt for the one person left in your life, you were growing impatient. You shoved both Bellamy and Wells’s shoulders as you pushed to the front of the group, walking further ahead; so much so that you couldn’t see the group or hear them. Clarke then called out yours and everyone else’s names, so you ran across the river, hopeful until you saw the blood on the rocks.

You stopped as dread filled your heart, catching sight of the goggles in Clarke’s hands. Choking back a sob, you took them from her outstretched hands. Everyone else was still a little further behind, so you allowed yourself to stroke the lens of the goggles with your thumb. 

“I, uh,” You sniffed, a sad smile gracing your features. “I gave these to him for his eleventh birthday. He always talked about the snowboarders we read about in school and I found those at the redistribution centre one day and thought they were perfect. I don’t think he’s taken them off since.”

The others caught up with you and Finn led the trail up a small creek that runs into the river. “Hey, how do we know this is the right way?” Murphy asked.

“We don’t. Spacewalker thinks he’s a tracker.” Bellamy said sarcastically. As you kept walking, Finn noticed a broken branch hanging off of a small tree. He followed it to the ground, where a few drops of blood coated a rock.

You all looked up when you heard a moan of pain in the distance. “Now would be a good time to take out that gun,” Clarke said as she got up from the crouched position. You all jogged through the woods and came to a halt when you saw a clearing.

There, tied up in a tree, was your best friend. Your brother. “Jasper,” you whispered, putting a hand on your mouth.

“Jasper!” You called out, speeding up as you got closer. You didn’t want to lose him, not again. Finn warned you to be careful as you pushed past him and Clarke, Bellamy not far behind you. You started picking up your pace before the ground gave way beneath you and you were falling into a pit of spikes.

Bellamy’s hand shot out and grabbed your uninjured wrist, and you saw him debating if he should lift you up or not. He and the others pulled you up and Clarke helped you stand as she asked if you were okay. You kept your eyes on Bellamy as you nodded at her, telling her you were okay before focusing on Jasper. 

“We need to get him down.”

Wells offered to climb up and cut the ties along with Finn, who told him to stay behind. Instead, he called on Murphy. “There’s a poultice on his wound.” Clarke pointed out.

“Medicine? Why would they string him up just to use him as live bait?” Wells asked, sending an apologetic glance your way.

“Maybe what they’re trying to catch likes it’s diner breathing,” Bellamy answered. Finn looked over to the four of you before adding a grim comment. 

“Maybe what they’re trying to catch is us.”

There was a low growl as Finn and Murphy cut Jasper down from the tree. Then, what you knew to be a panther pounced out of the trees as Clarke called to Bellamy to use his gun. Instead, Wells started to shoot at it, which instead angered it more. You and Bellamy lost sight of it in the shrubs, but it attacked once more as you pushed Bellamy backwards. The panther was shot down by Wells, but not before it could re-open the cut you’d gotten earlier in the day.

Wells dropped the gun and Bellamy told him, “Now she sees you.” You didn’t understand what he meant by that, but Clarke immediately came to your side with bandages. She wrapped up your arm once more.

“I don’t have anything to stitch it back up with, it’s all at camp. Just keep pressure and hold your arm up, okay?” You nodded at her advice and winced when she put pressure on the wound. Standing up, she elevated your arm and you kept it pressed against your chest as they wrapped up the dead panther for food and got Jasper down from the trees.

You stayed next to Jasper the whole way back to camp, going inside with Wells, Finn, and Clarke to help. You heard people cheering for the kill that Bellamy and Murphy brought back as you helped bring Jasper to the third level.

You helped clean Jasper of the dirt and blood, being extra careful around his wound. Once you and Clarke had done what you could for the night, you pulled his goggles from your sack and put them on your head, keeping them close until Jasper woke up and healed. Once you were out of the dropship, you saw people lining up to get their wristbands taken off for food.

Finn walked up and took a stick off of the fire and walked away with Clarke. Another boy in line tried to do the same but Bellamy stopped and punched him. You didn’t care what he did to you, but you did the same as Finn. Walking off with your first bite of food in two days, Murphy looked to Bellamy.

“Hey! Are you not gonna do anything about her?” He asked angrily. Bellamy put his hand up to stop Murphy, who was about to pursue you.

“Stop. Not this time.” Murphy scoffed and went back to taking people’s wristbands off, while Bellamy watched you walk into the forest, just past the wall, before walking off himself to go on the first watch.

Taglist: @soullessbabee​ | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​

[fandomrewrites]

Chasing Butterflies: Contents Under Pressure

Hello all! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and as always constructive criticism is appreciated. If you want to get added to any of my taglists let me know. And of course, if you have any questions or requests feel free to ask. Also italics are a memory.

Season 1; Episode 7: Contents Under Pressure Pairings: OC x OC best friends, no love interests chosen yet Warnings: Near death, mention of death Word Count: 2,392

Season 1 Masterlist

As heavy rain started pouring from the sky's, delinquents made their way into the dropship. Over the noise of the rowdy delinquents, Raven is talking into the radio, "This is Raven Reyes. Calling Ark Station. Come in Ark Station. This is Raven Reyes. Please come in. Can anybody hear me?"

A female delinquent near her asks, "Are you sure you have the right frequency?"

Forcefully, Raven replies, "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Raven? You can do this. Okay?" Clarke reassures the girl.

Raven gives a firm nod then tries once more, "Calling Ark Station. Please come in. I'm on the ground with the hundred."

Finally a man answers, "This is a restricted station. Who is this? Please identify yourself.”

Raven, relieved, answers, "This is Raven Reyes. I'm from Mecha Station. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Doctor Abby Griffin. Doctor Abby Griffon. Now."

Over the radio, Sinclair is heard, "Hang on Raven, we're trying to boost your signal." 

Knowing that voice from anywhere Elara looks up from Finn, "Dad?" She questions.

There's a brief pause, "Elara?" 

Elara smiles, "Hi dad.”

"Hi princess." The smile was evident in his voice. "I'm glad you're alright." There is a brief pause, "Hold on while we get everything set up on this side."

Nova looks at Elara and smiles, happy to see her friend smiling. They wait to hear someone from the Ark, "Raven? Are you there?" Abby asks.

"Mom? Mom, it's me." Clarke says.

"Clarke?"

"Mom, Elara and I need your help. One of our people was stabbed by a Grounder."

Jaha's voice is heard next, "Clarke. This is the Chancellor. Are you saying there are survivors on the ground?"

"Yes, the Earth is survivable. We're not alone. Mom, he's dying. The knife is still in his chest."

"Okay, can you patch me through to medical?" Abby asks.

"Of course." Sinclair replies.

"Clarke, is my son with you?" Jaha questions.

Clarke hesitates not sure how to answer, "I'm so sorry, Chancellor. Wells died." Elara answers.

"Is my daughter there? Is Nova alive?" Marcus Kane asks.

The girls turn to Nova, she shakes her head not wanting to answer. "She is but she's busy right now." Elara says.

Then Abby is heard once more, "I'm going to talk you through it, step by step. Clarke... just... find." Abby gets cut off.

"What! Raven what's wrong?" Clarke asks.

Raven begins panicking, "It's not the radio. It's the storm."

"Clarke, we need to hurry." Abby says over the radio.

Octavia walks into the dropship carrying two canisters. Clarke smells it, "Ugh. Monty's moonshine?"

"Pretty sure no germ could survive it." Octavia replies.

Elara and Clarke quickly pour some over their hands, making sure to get off any dirt that may be covering them. They then avoid touching anything so that their hands stay as clean as possible. 

"The storm's getting worse. Monroe, close the doors." Clarke says.

"But we still have people out there." Monroe replies.

"Monty and Jasper still aren't back yet. Neither is Bellamy." Octavia says.

"It's okay, they'll find somewhere to ride it out." Clarke reassures.

Raven grunts to gain Elara and Clarke's attention. "One stitching needle." She says when both girls look at her. She held out the needle. 

Elara, who is the closest to her, takes it from her hand. She wets it with the moonshine as Clarke speaks, "I still need something to close the wound."

"There's wire on the second level. I used it for the tents." Octavia says.

"Great let's see it." Octavia rushes upstairs to get the wire.

"Stay away from the blue wires that run through the ceiling. I rigged it to the solar cells in the roof. That means they're hot! You got that?" Raven tells the younger Blake.

"Yeah, I got it." Octavia says, continuing up the ladder leading to the second level.

Just as Octavia walks down the ladder, Bellamy steps through the dropship door. "The hell are you doing?" Octavia snaps at her brother.

Two boys behind Bellamy are dragging the unconscious Grounder. "It's time to get some answers." Bellamy simply says.

"Oh you mean revenge?"

"I mean intel." Bellamy turns to the two boys, "Bring him to the third level."

"This is going to cause more problems." Elara huffs, gesturing to the Grounder.

"This is not who we are." Clarke states.

"It is now." Bellamy answers, moving to head upstairs.

"Clarke? Elara?" Abby asks.

"The blade is at a sharp upward angle. Between his sixth and seventh rib." Clarke answers her mother.

"Okay, how deep?"

"We can't tell."

"That's alright, just don't remove the knife yet."

Elara looks over to the group of delinquents crowding around. "We can't work like this." She says as she watches two boys push and shove each other.

Hearing Elara's complaint, Nova stands up and loudly whistles. "Everyone upstairs. Now! Let's go!" Not wanting to argue against the girl, everyone starts clearing the first level.

Elara gently places the back of her hand on Finn's forehead, "He feels a little warm."

"That's alright, fever sometimes accompanies a trauma. Can either of you girls tell me if there is any fluid leaking from the wound?" Abby asks.

"No." Clarke answers as she inspects the wound.

"Pleural membrane is intact. That's good. That's actually really good. You got lucky."

Raven smiles at Finn and whispers to him, "Hear that? You got lucky."

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 "Nova? Are you ready?" Marcus Kane calls his daughter.

"I don't want to train today, daddy." Nova says as she walks out of her room.

"Nova, sweetie, your training is important. You need to know self defense."

"Why? It's not like I can ever use it. If I do I'll just get thrown in the sky box."

"You won't get thrown in the sky box if it's in self defense. The only way I expect you to use any of these things is if you're in danger."

"But why would I be in danger?"

"Because I'm the Vice Chancellor and some people don't like that." Marcus sighs, trying to explain to Nova.

"Chancellor Jaha isn't making Wells learn self defense though!" Nova tries to argue.

"I know, but it's my decision. This will only benefit you in the end."

Nova rests her head on the wall behind her and closes her eyes as she thinks about her dad making her take self defense classes when she was younger. Who would have thought she would actually use those lessons years later? 

Nova reaches her hand up to wipe sweat from her forehead. She hears Abby address Clarke through the radio, "Ok, firm grip on the knife. You're gonna need to angle it upward to the left very slightly to the left as it exits the rib cage."

"How very slightly?" Clarke asks her mom.

"Clarke, 3-" The rest of the sentence cuts off.

"Wait what was that you dropped out?"

"3 millimeters you got that?"

"Yeah, I got that."

"Steady hand Clarke. You've eviscerated more procedures than this. Once that knife is out the hard part is over."

Thunder is heard outside as Clarke begins to firmly grip the knife, "Alright, extracting now."

Finn starts to open his eyes and he grunts in pain. "Hold him still." Elara says, gesturing for Raven to help.

Clarke mumbles for Finn to stay still. With one big pull, the knife slips out. At the same time the storm outside jostles the delinquents, sending them to the ground. 

"Clarke?" Abby asks.

"It's out. She did it." Raven answers.

Clarke quickly gets to work stitching up Finn's wound. Once she finishes, with some help from Elara, she addresses her mom, "Okay, I'm done."

"Good. Do you have anything to cover the wound?" Abby questions.

"We'll make do, like always." Clarke replies.

"Should he be this pale?" Raven asks, looking down at Finn with worry.

"He's lost a lot of blood, he'll be fine." Elara says, laying a gentle hand on the mechanic's shoulder.

"He's feverish though and his breathing is uneven." Clarke states.

"Elara is right. It's nothing to worry about. He just needs some time to recover. Let me know if he gets any worse but I think he might just be out of the woods." Abby says.

"Well down here there's nothing but woods. I need a break." Clarke sighs.

"Clarke, wait. Raven, Elara could you give us a few minutes?" 

The two girls begin to say yes but Clarke stops them, "No, no. Stay with Finn." Without waiting for a reply she turns to head upstairs.

Elara turns her attention to Nova, who has been silent since she evacuated the bottom floor.

"Nov? Are you alright?" Elara asks.

Nova blinks her eyes open, "Hm? Yeah. It's just warm down here."

Elara, concerned, walks over to the girl and puts her hand to her forehead. Nova tries to shove it off but Elara doesn't let her, "You have a fever."

"I'm fine Lara."

Before Elara can argue with her more, Raven gets her attention, "Elara he's seizing!"

At this moment Nova stands up and shakily makes her way to the stairs. She climbs up them, slowly, until she reaches the third level. She pushes the door open. All eyes turn to her but nobody says anything, knowing that there is no point in arguing with the girl.

"Clarke, Finn is seizing." Is all Nova says, before she makes her way to the wall of the dropship to rest some more.

"What?" Clarke chokes out, she rushes to the ladder to make her way back down to the first level.

As Nova makes her journey upstairs, Elara rushes to Finn's side. She holds him steady until the seizing stops, then pushes him onto his side to make sure that his airway isn't blocked. 

She checks his pulse and sighs in relief when she sees that he's still breathing. Just as she does this Clarke comes down the steps.

"Nova said he was seizing." Clarke says, joining Elara.

"He's fine now. His pulse is weak though. And why the hell did Nova go up there? I think she's sick." Elara says.

"Wait, Nova is sick?"

"She looked it. She's really hot and she could barely keep her eyes open."

"I've seen this before. Shortness of breath, fever, seizing it's poison."

I look of realization flashes across Elara's eyes as she turns her head to look at the knife. "Elara was cut with it before Finn got stabbed."

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Right after Clarke left, Miller shuts the hatch behind her. Bellamy turned to look at Nova but her eyes were trained on the Grounder who was staring back at her. "You look like shit."

Nova humorlessly chuckles, "Thanks, that's what every girl is dying to hear." As she speaks her eyes stay trained on the Grounder in front of her.

Bellamy follows her eyes and notices that the Grounder keeps looking at her, "Why the hell are you looking at her?"

The Grounder remains silent, not breaking his gaze from the petite girl. Suddenly, Nova's eyes roll to the back of her head. She slumps to the ground and begins seizing.

Bellamy rushes over, "Clarke, Elara! Nova is seizing!" He yells, unsure of what to do.

Not even a minute later Clarke is by Nova's side - she was already on her way up to figure out what the antidote was from the Grounder. She waits by her side until Nova's seizing stops. She pushes her onto her side and makes sure that there is nothing left in her airway.

"What's happening to her and Finn?" Bellamy asks.

"The knife was poisoned." She rushes over to the Grounder. Bellamy and Clarke start to work together to try and get him to tell her what the antidote is, but the Grounder won't budge.

After a few minutes Raven rushes upstairs, "What's taking so long? He's getting worse. He stopped breathing."

"What?" Clarke asks.

"Elara got him to start again but next time he might not."

"Uh guys, Nova isn't breathing." Miller says from behind them.

Clarke rushes over to her as Raven starts to try to get the Grounder to talk. Clarke does chest compressions then gives Nova mouth to mouth. Finally, she starts breathing on her own.

Still, the Grounder won't talk. Octavia, desperate to save Finn and Nova's lives and not wanting to see the Grounder hurt anymore, picks up the knife and cuts herself with it.

"Octavia!" Bellamy says, trying to stop her.

"He won't let me die. Which one is it?" She kneels down in front of the vials. When she gets to the antidote the Grounder nods. 

She takes a small swig of the liquid in the vial and hands it to Clarke. Clarke forces some of the liquid down Nova's throat then rushes to the first level to give it to Finn.

As soon as Clarke steps foot onto the first level Elara asks, "Is Nova alright?"

Clarke nods as she is forcing Finn to drink the liquid. "Octavia got the Grounder to give us the antidote. She already had some."

Elara nods and let's out a relieved sigh. She turns and heads up stairs to check on Nova, leaving Finn with Clarke and Raven.

Octavia is upstairs when Elara arrives. She is carefully trying to clean the Grounder's wounds. Elara brushes some hair away from Nova's face and gently starts cleaning off the sweat from her forehead.

"You know your brother doesn't want you up here." The guy on guard says to Octavia. Octavia huffs and turns to leave.

Elara stands up quickly, "I'll clean him up."

Octavia nods at Elara, thankful that the girl is trying to help. She looks at the Grounder, "Please let her help. Okay?" She finally turns fully around and leaves the third level.

Elara sighs and slowly walks up to the grounder, "This might sting a little." She mumbles, carefully watching him as she wipes away the blood. The Grounder doesn't reply.

Elara only stops when the water is too dirty to continue, "I'll try to clean you up more. And I'll try to make sure they don't hurt you anymore. This isn't right." She whispers to the grounder. She turns her back to him and makes her way back over to Nova, waiting for the girl to wake up.

[jovialjudgebonkalmond]

Inevitable, Ch 2

Once again, obvious disclaimer, I don’t own the characters or universe in which the story takes place - yes internet I am that old, thank you.

Summary: Monty is alive, in jail. A recounting of his experiences and memories and basically all those flashbacks we weren’t given in season 4 that I am butthurt about. It is AU in the sense that he is still alive whilst Clay & Co are attempting to frame him for Bryce’s murder. Obvious spoiler alerts if you haven’t seen season 4.

Pairings will be Monty x Winston mainly. So far this is all from Monty’s POV but that may change down the line.

Warnings include violence, sex, drug use, rape, murder, and basically everything graphic and bad you can imagine. Will absolutely contain smut. Oh, and swearing. This chapter has the added benefit of mention’s of suicide (but given the show’s content I’m sure you saw this coming?), and also domestic abuse/child abuse. Oh and homophobic slurs.

Obligatory reminder: This is from Monty’s point of view. Clearly he didn’t view his actions with the totality of how devastatingly monsterous they were. I condemn his actions, he’s a rapist and deserved jail time. As we saw in s3 and in snippets of s4 he didn’t share that point of view. I think Monty is a dynamic character that’s interesting and I relate a lot to his back story. That’s why I was motivated to write this.

Ch 2 word count: 5,554 words (sorry not sorry guys)

Monty braced his hands on the edges of the tiny stainless steel sink, squinting as he gazed into the grimy sheet of metal bolted to the wall that was supposed to function as a mirror. He could see a blur of his skin, and the orange of his  shirt...and that was it. His face was throbbing and he couldn't eat his breakfast. "Fuck." He muttered to himself, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. He held his breath, his aching ribs adding to the cacophony of pain of his head and hand. His hand was swollen across his knuckles and stiff, the muscles in his right arm trembling just with the effort of hanging on to the sink. He reached up with his left hand and ran it over his jaw. It, too, was swollen. He opened his mouth as wide as he could, gripping his molars with his fingers and placing his thumbs at the base of his jaw. His body shuddered and his stomach growled loudly.

I know, we're gonna fix this.

He jerked his jaw down, over, and then up in a swift, fluid motion. It made a sickeningly loud pop and Monty held back a retch, his body going from hot to cold as he felt his adrenaline pounding through his veins uncontrolled. He took a few choking, deep breaths and began to pace in a small circle, breathing hard through his nose. He dropped to the floor gracefully into a plank position as he had a thousand times for football drills, braced himself on his hands while his broken knuckles screamed at him. He lowered himself to the floor and sucked in a deep breath, his nose almost grazing the concrete. He exhaled and pushed up, hearing his ribs crack loudly as they shifted. They felt wrong inside of him, like they didn't fit where they belonged and it made it hard to breathe. He inhaled and lowered himself again, pushing through the pain. He felt powerless. He carried on, not counting reps as he picked up a smooth and even pace.  He was lost inside himself, no concept of time passing. There were no clocks, save for the one on the microwave in the common room and he wasn't there right now. 

"Your mother, she hasn't stopped crying since they pick you up." His father stated with a heavy accent.He felt a pang of shame in his chest and closed his eyes for a moment, the shackles hanging like a dead weight off his wrists. He swallowed hard, his throat feeling suddenly dry and tight.

"I'm sorry." he said thickly, his back stiff. His fear felt alive inside of him, like it had a mind of its own. He avoided eye contact with his father. He could feel the rage radiating off of him and he felt the all too familiar dread sinking in.

"I bust my ass for this family, and this is what you do?" His father continued, leaning forward. Monty hazarded a glance at him from the corner of his eye, not daring to breathe. He blinked, feeling his mind beginning to reel.

"Answer me!"

Monty jumped and blinked again, feeling stupid and cornered. His heart was racing.

"What? What answer do you want?" He hated hearing the sound of his own desperation in his voice, the way it broke at the end.

"Is it true? What they're saying?"

Monty felt his body stiffen even more, if that was at all possible. He tried to shrug it off, blinking again.

"What are- what are they saying?" He stammered. It felt as though there was a fist clamped around his throat.

"You damn well know."

Monty stared straight ahead of him, feeling the all too familiar sensation of  his blood pounding in his ears and through his veins. He clenched his jaw and stayed silent.

"They're saying that you assaulted a kid. That you sexually assaulted a kid. A boy! That true?" He couldn't help but notice the tone his father's voice took on at the word 'boy'.

"It wasn't sexual assault. I was just...messin' with him." Monty said, shifting his shoulders as though his shuffling could make his actions go away, like an irritating fly tickling his skin.

"You were messing with him?" His dad blinked, his eyes darkening, "The way they said? Why would you do that shit? To a boy? Are you some kind of faggot?!" The disgust in his voice was palpable, but it wasn't the fact that he was being charged with sexual assault that disgusted him so, that much was glaringly clear.

Monty's body felt hot all over, his eyes beginning to well with tears. He clenched his jaw again and stole his resolve.

"What if I was dad? What if I was?" He locked his gaze on his father's dark, furious eyes. The rage and contempt the look he was met with took his breath away.

"You're going to prison. You know what they do to guys like you in there?" He scanned him up and down quickly, as though sizing him up.

"And what do they do? Describe it." He mumbled defiantly, squaring his chin.

"You're going to get beat to shit. At the minimum. They will beat you down."

Monty leaned back, unable to stop himself. What the fuck did it matter now anyway.

"Yeah, well, at least none of them will be my dad."

He could see the storm in his father's eyes, and he was suddenly grateful he was in jail. The chair scraped on the concrete as his dad stood, towering over him with the blackest eyes he had ever seen. Mr. de la Cruz was staring at him as though he had known it all along.

"Are you a faggot?" He asked, with a tone that suggested he already had the answer.

Fuck it, he thought, and fuck you.

He looked up and locked eyes with the man whom he had feared, loathed, worshiped... his whole life.

"Sure."

The moment could have lasted an eternity. His father stared at him in disgusted silence before spitting in his face and walking out, leaving him sitting there alone in his shackles. It hurt more than a fist. He closed his eyes, feeling as though his heart was shattering in his chest. The spit was hot and sticky, burning his left eye it landed on. He clenched his jaw again, his eyebrows furrowing as he fought back his tears. He tried to wipe the spit off of his face but his shackles stopped him from being able to reach. He rubbed the side of his face on his shoulder as though he could wipe away his shame with it, his breathing ragged.

"Hey inmate."

Monty jumped, the voice knocking him back to reality. He stood carefully, his body aching at his lack of forgiveness to it, and looked at the C.O.

"Yes sir?"

"You have an appointment with your lawyer. Come on."

He blinked slowly, following the guard out of his cell. I don't have a lawyer..? 

The guard marched him to a set of doors where he was pat down and shackled once more. They took him down a hallway he had never been down before, the shackles making his strides short and awkward, forcing him to hunch forward. It made him look small. The hall had rooms with windows that opened to the hallway. The guard opened one of the doors and Monty followed him inside.

There was a woman sitting at a large table with several file folders. Her black hair was up in a bun and she was wearing a pantsuit with a blouse. It was jarring, seeing someone outside of uniform or the orange jumpsuit. He shuffled toward the table and she glanced up at him, surveying him quietly with blue eyes he couldn't read. He sat down across from her and tried to shuffle his chair closer to the table with little success.

 The guard stepped in and closed the door. The woman turned her attention from him to the guard.

"You can wait outside." She dismissed him. He looked as though he was going to argue with her but then thought better of it and left. Monty could see him watching them through the glass.

"Hello Mr. de la Cruz." She said, opening one of the files and glancing at it before looking back at him. "I am Eva Guerrero. I am a defense attorney and I work for a non-profit organization, and we were forwarded your case and I am here to offer you legal representation for your trial, if you choose to have one. I have spent some time reviewing your case and I have a few thoughts, and a few questions."

Monty sat there, staring at her for awhile. He blinked while he waited for his brain to catch up. It didn't.

"Okay." He said curtly, instantly on the defensive.

"You presently have two charges filed against you. That is correct? The sexual assault of Tyler Down and the murder of Bryce Walker..?"

Monty stood in the dim light of his bedroom, one of the bulbs in the ceiling was burnt out. It cast long shadows up the dark beige walls. It made the hole he punched in his white door look cavernous. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, his breathing steady and calm...resolute. Tears trickled silently down his face, pooling on the wooden surface of his dresser. They slipped off the chips and dings in the surface and flowed off of the edge. His arm trembled as it held the cold steel of the gun, pressing into the side of his temple. His finger curled around the trigger, his other hand pressed on the top of the dresser to brace himself. There was only one bullet in the chamber, but he only needed one.

"Where are you, you son of a bitch!" His father roared, bursting into the room and yanking him from his thoughts. His blood pounded in his ears and he rounded on the taller man, not even feeling human anymore.

"You wanna go old man?!" Monty yelled, taking the gun away from his own face and leveling it at the chest of his father, finger still poised on the trigger. The man staggered back, clearly intoxicated. His face flashed shock for a moment before he began to laugh, contempt replacing his former fearful expression as though it had never existed. Monty's heart was hammering in his chest like it was going to explode. His body was moving outside of his control, his desperation having a mind of its own and an appetite for destruction.

"You going to shoot me?" The older man laughed again and muttered derisively in Spanish before closing the space between them, leaning into the gun. "Do it then. You're the man now."

Monty locked eyes with his monster, his boogeyman, and felt his resolve begin to crumble just as he always crumbled under his father's fists and rage. He lowered the gun and made to shove passed him to get through the door but his dad grabbed him roughly around his abdomen and chucked him into it. He heard it crack under his weight and his lungs strained as the wind was knocked out of him. He choked and gasped for a moment, in a heap on the ground still holding the gun.

"You're just a coward." His dad hissed, booting him hard in the ribs. He hated himself for not being able to hold back his whimper at the pain. "Were you fucking crying? Crying like a lady-boy? Like a faggot?!"

He sucked in a ragged breath and dragged himself to his feet, running haphazardly  through the hallway. He needed to get the fuck out of here before this ended in regret. His dad pursued him, hot on his tail, stopping momentarily to grab a bottle of liquor off of the counter.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going you little shit?!"

"I'm getting the fuck out of here!" Monty yelled, opening the front door. His dad grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him backwards, slamming him against the wall and backhanded him. He tasted blood. He shoved his dad as hard as he could, away from him and ran out the door without looking back. His dad staggered drunkenly and fell over. It didn't stop him for long, just slowed him down momentarily, Monty heard his drunken shuffling footsteps chasing him out the door.

"Come back here you coward!" He yelled, chucking the bottle at Monty. It shattered beside his feet and he stepped on the glass. It crunched under the soles of his shoes, gritty on the gravel driveway. The alcohol splashed up his pants, staining and stinking. He fumbled for his keys, hands shaking and jerking as adrenaline sent his nerves haywire. He popped the safety back on the gun and tossed it in the back storage compartment. He started the Jeep and threw it in reverse, slamming his foot on the gas and gunning it down the driveway. His tires screeched shrilly on the pavement and the SUV lurched with his sudden movements.

He put the Jeep into drive and stomped on the gas, not knowing where he was going. There was nothing but the sound of his engine, the tires rumbling on the pavement noisily and his suspension rattling every so often as he went over a bump or pothole in the road. And his seemingly-endless-blood pounding in his ears-level rage. His vision blurred with tears, the road and lights melted blurs whipping passed him with no recognition. He sobbed, unable to catch his breath. His chest felt empty, like a gaping wound raw and shredded on the edges. Minutes turned into hours and became nothing. Eventually he had no energy left to sob, no tears left to cry.

He eased off of the gas pedal and soaked in the emptiness that consumed him. The air around him was cold and light, the stars dancing above him and the moon hung over it all like a fucking spotlight for his shit show.

He slowed and stopped, realizing he recognized the house he was in front of. His heart skipped a beat. He shouldn't be here. He put the Jeep in park and pushed the door open, stepping out of the vehicle. He left the door open as he walked ponderously along the curb. The house was like a mansion, towering on top of a small expensively landscaped hill. With a huge, wall-like cement fence with wrought iron details on top. Four pillars boarded each edge of the horse-shoe shaped driveway, one of those fancy ones that you can drive in and out of in a  half circle. The pillars had lamps on top made out of matching wrought iron that bathed him in golden light, like a caricature of an angel.

He didn't belong here.

He stood at the mouth of the driveway, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He sighed, turning to go when he saw a figure approaching him. The tall, slender, dark haired young man stepped into the light. His dark, brown eyes were muddied with confusion. He wore a light coat thrown over a grey cable knit sweater and olive coloured slacks, lacking his usual carefully chosen attire. It was evident he just threw it on in a hurry to run outside. His heavy brows furrowed, his expression flipping rapidly from confusion to concern.

"Monty- what are you doing here? My parents are actually home...you probably don't want to- why are you bleeding? Are you ok?!" He stumbled his words in a rush.

Monty stood there with his arms limp at his side for a few moments, trying to feel anything other than the brokenness that consumed him. He knew the desperation showed on his face like an open book and he loathed himself for it. He could never hide it, not in front of Winston. The other boy had a way of running his fingers over his spine and cracking him open like a dam waiting to flood the world. And tonight, he was nothing if not an open wound.

"Monty?!" Winston insisted, taking another step towards him.

"Bryce is dead." He said hollowly.

Winston blinked, glancing back to the house and then back to Monty. He closed the space between them, Monty's heart leaping into his throat. Winston took his hand and ran his fingers over his knuckles and palm with an aching tenderness.

"Okay, let's get out of here then." He said calmly. Damn him. Winston gave his hand a gentle squeeze and tilted his face to lock his warm eyes with Monty's avoidant gaze. Monty looked back at him knowing he wasn't able to hide his pain behind his mask anymore. He returned the gentle squeeze before walking back to the Jeep and climbing in, his heart racing once more. Winston climbed in the passenger seat, doing a double take at the gun in the back.

"Is that a gun?! What are you doing with a gun?! How did you even get a gun?!?!"

Monty clenched his jaw, starting the Jeep with a stuttering rumble. It was an old Jeep, and its age was showing. Monty couldn't help but feel uncomfortable having the boy who was used to so much luxury in his piece of shit SUV. 

Although if Winston had any opinions, he kept them to himself. Monty glanced at the gun in the corner of his eye, barely tilting his face before looking at Winston for a moment and putting the vehicle in drive.

"It was a gift." He muttered, nonchalantly. Winston looked taken aback but didn't ask anymore questions as Monty drove off. Monty turned up the music, indicating he didn't want to talk anymore. Winston reached over and  held Monty's hand that was resting in his lap. Monty didn't fight it or pull away, allowing the other boy to gently stroke his fingers. He felt the pounding rage and anxiety, poised for the attack, slowly recede under Winston's unfairly soft touch.

"They found him in the water...by the docks." Monty said thickly, the dam threatening to break again. "They say he was shot...he was murdered."

"Murdered?! Holy fuck..." Winston gasped, sucking in a quick breath. It was clear he was rattled. "Who would do that?"

"Oh I think I know." Monty said, a clearly menacing tone to his voice. "Cops hauled me in for questioning. Cuffed me and chucked my ass in the back seat and everything. What a fucking show."

Winston looked taken aback.

"But Bryce was your friend?! Why would they think you killed him?!" Winston asked, despite the gun sitting in the back of the Jeep like a verifiable elephant in the room.

"We had a fight before he was killed." Monty grumbled, stepping on the gas a little. "He was killed homecoming night."

Winston took a deep breath, surveying Monty carefully.

"While you were with me?"

"If I was fuckin' there he wouldn't be fuckin' dead right now!" Monty yelled. "I should have been there. I could have stopped it. Someone beat the shit out of him and shot him and threw him in the fuckin' water and I was off getting laid!"

Winston stayed silent for a few moments, gazing at the scenery as it whipped by. If his outburst or speeding bothered him, Monty couldn't tell. He seemed surprisingly unruffled by his rage. After more time passed Monty's resolve and anger subsided, having nothing to feed off of. He took a deep, tremulous breath.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, "I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault I wasn't there for him. It's mine-"

"Monty, don't blame yourself for this either." Winston cut him off. "There was nothing you could have done. You couldn't have known that would have happened and if you had tried to stop it they very likely would have killed you too. It would have taken someone incredibly dangerous to have done this. I didn't know Bryce very well, but he wouldn't have gone down without a fight."

Monty flinched, gripping the steering wheel tightly with one hand and his other hand trembled in Winston's. He drew in a shivering breath and shook his head, his brows furrowing deeply.

"If I had died too so be it. I should have been there, protecting him. I always protected him... he died alone."

His lip quivered as his eyes welled with tears once more. He wanted to punch himself in his own god damned face. He blinked rapidly, pushing his emotions back down and swallowed hard, flipping his turn signal on.

"That's not a road?" Winston said in confusion.

"That's the point." Monty said, his words catching when the Jeep thumped in and out of a rut jerking both boys around inside.

"I've never done this before." Winston said with a small laugh, "Gone off roading."

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" Monty shook his head, putting the Jeep into 4x4 and glancing at the other boy. "Rich kids." He muttered incredulously. Winston shrugged and flopped around, his shoulder bumping into Monty's as the Jeep thrashed from side to side over the uneven ground. He laughed helplessly, shaking his head. He was knocked backwards as the SUV lurched upwards and then once again bumped into Monty and then the side of the door as it landed roughly, the suspension audibly creaking.

"Jesus can this thing even handle this?!" Winston wondered.

"It was built for this." Monty chuckled, easily matching his body's movements with the jerking of the Jeep, "How about you, pretty boy, can you handle it?" He almost purred, quirking an eyebrow teasingly. Winston shot him a half exasperated dirty look and shifted his weight surreptitiously and then he smirked, meeting the other boy's challenge.

"I think we both know I like being tossed around a little."

Monty responded by gunning the SUV over a ditch in the dirt road, and Winston grabbed the handle over his head to maintain his balance and ride out the bucking of the vehicle. The two shared a look and Monty grinned devilishly. He pressed the accelerator down slowly and evenly, the Jeep's tires kicking up sand that billowed around them like an angry cloud. He adjusted the steering wheel and pulled the SUV into a tight turn, the force tossing Winston to one side as he held the tires in a rotation. He sped up as the Jeep spun in a circle, the sand flying around them like debris in an explosion. The lights of the city and the moon over the ocean melted together, becoming a ribbon of colours swirling dizzyingly around them.

Monty wasn't watching where the Jeep was going, he didn't have to. He had perfect control of the vehicle's movements, he had done this countless times with the guys. He was watching Winston, couldn't take his eyes off of him if he had even tried. He watched the way his chest moved when he breathed, the way his expressions changed and the way his eyes were just so damned alive. Monty loved the way he would laugh or yelp, and knew exactly how to get each reaction. The thrill of it made his face feel flushed, his blood pounding for an altogether different reason. He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment before pulling the Jeep out of the doughnut turn and slamming on the brakes. Winston let out a little shriek as he was once again tossed from side to side, and then also back and forth with his long legs tangling like a clumsy giraffe.

"If I knew it was that easy to make you scream I would have done this a long time ago." Monty laughed, cutting the engine and smirking at Winston, his heart fluttering in his chest. Winston glanced at him through the dark lengths of his eyelashes and moistened his lips. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was a little ragged after being thrashed around like a rag-doll mercilessly for the last god-only-knows how long.

"I could think of a few other ways you could make me scream." He said breathily. 

Monty yanked his seat belt off and practically dove at him, his hands grabbing the other boy's wavy hair as their lips crashed together. Monty had one leg on his centre console, the other was in between Winston's legs. Winston's fingertips dug into his back as he kissed back, his bruising lips meeting Monty's furious hunger with a relishing eagerness. Monty kissed him and pawed at him like he wanted to devour him and Winston's hands flew to his pants and popped the button with ease and unzipped them, running his hand over the other boy's obvious erection. He wanted to be devoured, consumed, destroyed. Monty gasped and made a soft, strangled sound as he broke their kiss.

"Fucking hell." He hissed grinding his hips into Winston's hand, "I want you." he added, his voice catching. And I shouldn't, he thought, I can't... this is going to be the death of me.

Winston laughed lowly, continuing to run his hand up and down Monty's rock hard length. He kissed him again, biting his bottom lip lightly as he pulled away.

"Take me home." He said flatly, his hand still rubbing Monty's achingly hard cock. 

Monty blinked rapidly, his train of thought thrashing around not unlike Winston was being thrashed around moments ago.

"W...what?" He stuttered, gasping quietly and suppressing a moan with limited success.

"Take me home, Montgomery," Winston said, staring into Monty's eyes as he massaged his balls, "And fuck me properly."

"I don't think I can drive like this." Monty groaned as Winston's hand slipped away, tucking his throbbing cock back into his pants and zipping them back up with some difficulty.

"You're going to." Winston smirked, kissing him deeply and then pushing him away as he adjusted his own bulge in his pants.

Monty swallowed and looked at the lawyer before him. He had declined the legal aide appointed by the court, and he had assumed it was left at that. That he'd be deemed guilty and just rot or die where he fucking belonged.

"I didn't kill Bryce." He said coldly.

"I am aware. We've been contacted by someone who has compelling evidence for your innocence."

"Charlie?" Monty asked, meeting her eyes carefully. He already knew the answer to that question he realized with sickening dread.

"No, Charlie went to the police shortly after you were apprehended and confessed to lying to them to cover for you and that he had no idea of your true whereabouts that night. A boy named Winston Williams... contacted us seeking legal aide on your behalf," The lawyer said, reaching for one of the folders. "He can place you at his house at the time of the murder. He said you made some texts and the cell phone towers would be able to confirm your location which would be quite far from the location where Bryce was killed. He also has an article of your clothing that would possibly be useful, if people can confirm you wore it that night and haven't since."

Monty swallowed hard  against the lump in his throat, willing his face to remain stagnant and leaned back, shaking his head. The betrayal by Charlie stung like the weight of a sword to the hilt of his spine. And then there was the Winston of it all.

"He just doesn't fucking give up, does he?" He muttered with an agonized hitch in his voice despite his best efforts.

"I mean, if I knew someone was innocent of a crime, I would want to speak out."

"Did he tell you I beat the shit out of him the night we met and I called him a fucking faggot?" Monty lashed out, he would have crossed his arms but his shackles prevented him from doing it so he just squared his shoulders and jaw and stared coldly at the woman in front of him who only wanted to help him. But he didn't want her fucking help, or Winston's for that matter.

The woman held his gaze, completely unfazed by his demeanor.

"He did, in fact, tell me that." She said with a quirked eyebrow. Monty was taken aback but tried to do his best not to let that show.

"So why the fuck would he want to help me." He said hollowly. The lawyer shrugged.

"Does that really matter? You're looking at life in jail or worse, right now with these charges."

"Maybe I fuckin' deserve it." Monty said, tilting his head challengingly.

"Maybe you do." She agreed calmly. "But I don't think you do. I think that's an easy way out. I think you're fucking giving up, throwing it away because its easier than facing the person you are and the problems you have. Its easier than admitting your life isn't going where you wanted it to, and that you regret the things you've done." 

She tossed a file in his direction.

"I think life has been unreasonably hard on you, Montgomery, and I think the people and systems that were supposed to protect you and keep you safe didn't. I think you had a violent upbringing, and that you survived for a long time by yourself. I think the fact that you'd rather go to jail for a crime you didn't commit than willingly admit out loud that you spent the night with a boy who's only crime was maybe to love you enough to want to save you is cowardly. I think you feel like you don't deserve his concern, or his love for that matter, so you're running scared from that too. I think you've been scared for your whole life. And I think its time you fucking let that go. Because the people who've helped you become the young man standing before me would love to see you sitting here wallowing in your self pity. They'd love to see you disappear like another fucking statistic. I would like to think that someone who has survived as long as you have, someone who's fought as hard as you have would take all that anger and tell them to fuck themselves and build a real life for himself, and be fucking happy to spite them, in spite of them."

Monty felt his pulse tick in his neck and looked away before fixing her with a glare. That hit a nerve.

"I think you fucking think too much." He snarked, and smirked with a cocky lift of his eyebrow. "What would you know about it anyway."

She smiled calmly, and met his arrogance with her own ego.

"I had a bad childhood." She said flatly, not knowing she was using his own words against him, "I did eight years in federal for armed carjacking."

Monty sat there numbly, dumbfounded for a moment.

"And they let you be a lawyer?" He asked incredulously, "That explains a lot..."

"It wasn't easy, Montgomery, it took me almost twelve years after my sentence to even begin rebuilding my life. They said I would never amount to more than my crime. But I fucking did it and they can suck my dick." She began to collect the folders he hadn't even looked at yet, leaving one in front of him as she stood up.

"You're a lawyer, you're not supposed to talk like that." He mumbled, feeling panic flutter in his chest as his lifeline was packing up and leaving and it was all his own fault for pushing her away.

"Not in front of a judge anyway." She countered, snapping her briefcase shut. 

"Think about what I said. I won't close your case yet, but don't waste anymore of my fucking time. Keep that, and read it." She warned as she walked away. She opened the door where the guard was waiting and he heard the sound of his boots as he came to fetch him.

His mind was reeling, spinning out of control as he shuffled behind the C.O. awkwardly holding his file.

"You have some mail." The C.O. said offhandedly. Monty blinked, wondering what it was. Was it a court summons? Was it Winston? Was it his family..? They stopped at the doors and the man uncuffed him around the wrists and ankles. 

He handed Monty the letter, his expression unreadable.

"It came in awhile ago...but sometimes things here get lost on purpose."

"Why are you being nice to me?" Monty asked, suspicious as he took the letter.

"You're a human being. And I'd like to believe we can help people in here... sometimes."

"You must be new." Monty sighed. He walked back to his cell without a backwards glance. None of the other three inmates he shared a cell had returned yet, they must be at lunch. Monty's stomach growled insistently but he ripped open the letter instead, wanting the privacy to absorb the blow that was about to come. The paper was a file printed from the jails website, someone was requesting the right to visit him and it required his approval or denial.

Charles St. George.

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 25: Rᴇᴛᴀʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Masterlist

Episode: I Am Become Death

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for. 

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Twenty-Five

When I next opened my eyes, I could tell that I’d been asleep for a long time. I stepped out of the tent and stretched out happily. I strolled toward the centre of camp to get an update on events. I picked Monty out of a gossiping crowd and approached him with a smile. 

“God, I slept so hard.” I chirped and noticed that he seemed distracted. “What disasters did I miss? Did the others get back okay?” I questioned with a joking smile before my face dropped when he didn’t smile back.

“Yeah, everyone is back fine. Actually, more people came back than expected.” He answered cryptically and I stared at him assessingly. “We found Murphy outside of camp last night.” He muttered under his breath and I felt my breath hitch in response. For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I’d heard and I stared at him with wide eyes.

“Murphy?” I confirmed, feeling a knot form in my stomach as he nodded in response. “Shit, that’s not going to go well.” I muttered and Monty rubbed a nervous hand on the back of his neck.

“I know he’s an asshole... but I caught a glimpse of him as they brought him inside and he looked horrific. From what I’ve heard, he was tortured by the grounders and it really does look that way.” Monty explained with a conflicted expression and my mouth dropped open in shock. I was about to question him more when I heard raised voices from the dropship. 

“Thanks Monty, I’d better go deal with this.” I drawled with a building feeling of dread in my stomach. I forced one last quick smile at him, before heading in the direction of the voices. I rushed into the ship to see Bellamy, Finn and Clarke in a heated conversation and stopped in my tracks as I tried to catch up on the situation. 

“Once he’s better, we find out what he knows and then he’s out of here, ok?” 

I caught Clarke speaking to Bellamy in a hushed tone and it was clear that they were both engrossed in conversation. She moved to leave and I strode past her, further into the space. My attention landed on a small, shivering shape in the corner that vaguely resembled Murphy and I gasped in horror. He was coated in blood and even a quick glance revealed that his claims of torture were true. His body was covered in welts, burns, cuts and a selection of injuries that came directly from nightmares. I started to approach him slowly and Bellamy was too focused on Clarke to have noticed me.

“What if he refuses to leave?” Bellamy called to her back, but I kept my stunned eyes on Murphy. He quivered in fear as he scrutinised me and I tried to move as carefully as possible. “What do we do with him then?” Bellamy probed as they continued their argument behind me.

I took my time to enter Murphy’s space as he was jumpy and made it clear that I meant him no harm. I crouched down to his level and reached out to him carefully. I delicately took his hands into mine and realised with a grimace that his fingernails had been pulled out. I inspected him with such sympathy that I could barely hold back the tears, as I took in the shivering wreck that remained of him.

“Then we kill him.” Clarke delayed in a tone that was icy cold and I felt my temper growing at their conversation. I returned to a standing position and turned on the spot to squint at the two of them. They both had crossed arms and were staring at Murphy with threatening expressions. 

“You two need to get out.” I spat, planting myself in front of him defensively. Bellamy seemed to finally register that I was here and he was clearly immensely uncomfortable with my proximity to Murphy. 

“He can’t be here. Indigo, get out of my way.” He growled with an aggravated tone as he stepped towards me and his eyes flitted to Murphy with a blatant disgust.

“Stop it!” I yelled as my patience snapped and my voice raised without my consideration. “That’s enough from both of you.” I stated with a nod over to Clarke to confirm that my disappointment extended to her. “Bellamy, I know what happened because of his actions, but that doesn’t change that he’s one of the 100 and he has been tortured. He needs help and all you’re doing is making his suffering worse. If you want information from him, he needs to be well enough to speak. Look at him, right now he can barely even keep his eyes open! Get out.” I ordered with a bitter frustration and Bellamy regarded me in an obvious shock. “You too Clarke!” I announced as I threw a dismissing hand at her too. “You both made the decision on his punishment, it’s not appropriate for you to be involved now and it wont reflect well on your authority to camp! I’ll take responsibility for the decision to help him and we can discuss how you punish me for that to save face to the camp later.” I spoke quickly in my anger and as soon as I’d finished, I turned back towards Murphy again.

“Indigo, I can help you to-” I heard Clarke’s remorseful voice from behind before I’d even managed to bend again. I could tell that my words had caused a shame in her but her continued presence only served to make me more angry. I whipped back around to face her in fury. 

“Did I stutter?” I snarled as I looked between them. “OUT! Both of you!” I yelled and they both jumped at my sudden temper. I gave one final glare before turning back to Murphy and was relieved to finally hear their footsteps leave the ship. 

I took a few moments to gather supplies including a flask of Monty’s Moonshine and several rags, and water. I returned to Murphy’s side carefully as he quivered and watched me with a nervousness that broke my heart to witness. I took my time to gain his trust, starting by simply soaking his hands in warm water to try to clean him up. Once he was relaxed enough to let me do that without twitching at every minimal contact, I moved on to cleaning the cuts on his arms. I gradually worked my way up to a large burn that covered practically his entire shoulder. I could hardly stand to look at it, the brutality of what had been done to him was unbearable. I met his swollen eyes with a look of deep sadness.

“Why are you even helping me?” He choked out even as he struggled to get his breath. “You’ve been in my face since day one.” He muttered accusingly and I sighed as I continued to clean the huge amount of injuries on his body. 

“Because you need it.” I answered firmly and he scoffed. “I got in your face because your bad decisions were leading the entire camp down a dangerous road, one that backfired on you.” I confessed as I wring out the cloth in the water and kept my focus on cleaning him. I found it difficult to meet his eyes as I comprehended the results of his banishment. “Whatever you did, you’ve endured more punishment than you deserved. I’m going to make sure it ends here.” I assured him, holding his gaze. He fidgeted awkwardly and I clocked several cuts through a tear in his shirt. When he leaned back against the wall, I slid the shirt to get a better look at them and realised they were deeper than the rest of his injuries. He flinched away from my touch and I gazed with a gentle understanding.

“Murphy, I really need to clean these or they’ll definitely get infected. I’ll spare you as much pain as I can, but these ones need alcohol. I promise I’ll be tender.” I reasoned with him and although he still viewed me with suspicion, he lowered his guard.

I guided his arm out of the t-shirt so that I could pull one side up to his neck, revealing three large, deep gashes. I opened the bottle of moonshine and peeked at him for a sign that he was prepared. As soon as he nodded and gritted his teeth, I poured the moonshine over and he cried out. I quickly put it down and as he leaned forward to double up in pain I pulled him into me, allowing him to rest his head on my shoulder. I rubbed his back soothingly as I felt his hot tears soaking into my shirt and battled to keep my composure. We remained in this position until he willingly sat back and perceived me with surprise.

Once I’d finished with the wounds on his chest, I left his side momentarily to fetch some fresh water. In the moment that I was about to return, I was startled by the sound of retching and turned back to see Murphy on his hands and knees. He was bringing up copious amounts of bright red fluid and the strain seemed to be causing him to almost convulse. I rushed back over to his side to support him and once he was done, I helped him back into a sitting position. I pushed his wet hair back from his face and he stared at me with terrified eyes. Clarke suddenly stormed into the room to make a bee line for him, but I wouldn’t let her past me, blocking her from touching him. 

“Clarke, are you incapable of understanding?! You can’t be here!” I hissed as I stopped her from passing me.

“I’m sorry but this is important.” She insisted and I stared at her in annoyance as she settled almost beside me instead. “Murphy, I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the grounders. What happened?” She grilled and I took a deep breath in an effort to contain my temper. Murphy shook his head in a slow heavy manner and I could feel the tension building in my chest. 

“I don’t know.” He mumbled and more fluid fell from his mouth as he spoke. I grabbed a damp rag and wiped his mouth with an impatient glance at Clarke.

“Clarke, he’s sick. Can’t this wait?” I questioned as I felt the growing sickness of her insistent behaviour. Despite my words, she stared at him expectantly and he struggled to get the words out. 

“I woke up and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there so I took off.” He answered in difficulty and I started to block her again. 

“They let you go.” She whispered in a crestfallen manner as she leaned away. 

“You have your answer, now get out.” I spat as I finally ran out of patience and pushed her the rest of the way out of his space. “Try to relax Murphy.” I voiced reassuringly as I pushed his hair back from his face again to calm him. I wiped the cloth around his face to clean the various wounds, worrying that if any of the fluid were to get in them it would cause an infection. As I busied myself with this, I caught the sound of heavy footsteps and knew without even turning around who had just entered.

“Bellamy, stay back!” Clarke called in a frantic manner and I couldn’t help wondering what had changed her tune. I rolled my eyes as I prepared for whatever conflict was about to happen and sighed in annoyance. I dipped the cloth in the water again and held it gently to Murphy’s head to cool him off, holding his hair back carefully. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Bellamy had paused in place in the centre of the room and was watching me tend to Murphy with a furious expression. He then glanced over to Clarke in concern and at his expression I made my first proper assessment of her since she had entered. She looked awful, her skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Did he do something to you?” Bellamy interrogated and I glared back at him. I peeked at Clarke and realised that she had red fluid around her eyes with a lurch in my stomach. Bellamy seemed to notice this at the same moment as his eyes grew wide. “What the hell is this?” He asked, tensely glancing between her and Murphy.

“Biological warfare.” She revealed with a hint of fear in her voice. “You were waiting for the grounders to retaliate for the bridge? This is it. Murphy is the weapon.” Clarke spoke poignantly and Murphy looked up at Bellamy nervously. I understood why, as I anticipated Bellamy responding to this information rashly and mentally prepared myself to stand my ground. I grabbed a nearby cup of water and held it up to Murphy’s lips. 

“You need to keep hydrated, here.” I ordered quietly in an effort not to draw attention to us. He took a long, careful drink and I placed the cup at his side. I was tenderly pushing his hair back again when I was suddenly dragged backwards by my shirt along the dropship floor. I struggled in an attempt to stop the motion, but it was to no avail. The moment that I stopped in the middle of the room, I sprung furiously to my feet only to find that it was Bellamy who was responsible. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you to get out, what part of that is hard for you to understand?!” I snarled as I felt myself shaking in outrage.

“He’s contagious!” He growled back as he pointed at Murphy, but I recognised a hint of jealousy in his eyes as he perceived him. “Didn’t you hear Clarke, you can’t be near him. We should get him out whilst we still can!” He threatened and moved to step toward Murphy. I didn’t hesitate for a moment in blocking him, pushing him back with all of my might. I surprised even myself at the power I managed to produce as adrenaline flooded me. I threw him back with a viscous glare and he stopped in his tracks. 

“Don’t make me put you on your ass Bellamy, because so help me god, I will! Get out of my sight!” I rasped, radiating anger on a level that he hadn’t seen from me before. I could tell from his wide eyes that he hadn’t anticipated this kind of veracity from me and I dug my heels in.

“He’ll make you sick!” Bellamy argued, defensively indicating back to Murphy and his brows knitted together as he tried to appeal to me.

“You already beat him to it!” I screamed in a loss of control as my venomous nature overwhelmed my senses. Bellamy froze in shock at my words and I narrowed my eyes at him. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again several times as he seemed to be lost for words and I pushed a feeling of regret to the back of my mind.

“Indigo, you need to get away from him, you’re not sick yet. You might be immune and if you are they’ll need you in camp.” Clarke approached me carefully from behind and it was clear that she wanted to put an end to the rising tensions. Although she tried to draw my attention to her I kept my eyes fixed furiously on Bellamy.

“I’m not leaving him to suffer.” I stated adamantly without even looking at her and Bellamy scoffed in annoyance as my attitude broke through his shock. 

“I’ll take care of him, I’m already infected.” Clarke suggested in a soft voice and I finally looked at her sceptically. 

“I don’t trust you.” I announced coldly whilst I crossed my arms. “Both of you openly discussed killing him, right in front of him, this morning. Don’t you think he’s been through enough punishment?!” I argued as I appealed to their reasonable sides, despite the endless fury that burned in my chest.

“Clarke’s right.” Bellamy declared as he clocked me with a cold, determined expression. “Get her out of here.” He ordered as he dropped his gaze to the ground and in barely a few moments two of his followers descended on me. I was furious that he didn’t have the decency to remove me himself and it struck me that he was using them to distance himself from the action. They grabbed both of my arms and began to drag me from the space. I kicked and thrashed desperately, making every step difficult for them but I couldn’t stop them from taking me. 

“No, you can’t do this!” I howled as I fought aimlessly. As I was about to be carried over the threshold, the sounds of coughing and violent seizing paused us all in place. After barely thirty seconds of vomiting sounds and what sounded like a disagreement, Clarke called out to them. 

“Bring her back.” She ordered, causing them to drag me back into the ship and they held onto me as they awaited instructions. “We need to set up a quarantine zone, you can’t take her anywhere.” She clarified as her brows knitted and both of the men holding me looked to Bellamy for confirmation. He nodded reluctantly, and it was clear that he wasn’t satisfied with this outcome. The men finally released their grip on me and I marched back over to Murphy without even looking at Bellamy. I picked up a fresh rag to begin tending to Murphy’s badly beaten face again and had to battle to return to tender movements as I shook with rage. In all of the commotion, I didn’t even notice Finn enter the space until I heard him asking Clarke what to do.

“Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy. Bring them here.” She instructed and Finn immediately rushed out to do her bidding.

“And everyone they’ve had contact with.?” I heard Bellamy questioning her order and my stomach lurched. I could only imagine how extreme things would become if he had any input.

“Well, we have to start somewhere.” Clarke answered in annoyance. “Connor, who was with you when you found him?” I heard her grilling another sick person and rolled my eyes at her complete lack of empathy. “Who carried him in? Think.” She demanded. The response was slow and when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. 

“The first one there was Octavia.” He confirmed in a gravelly voice. I felt my stomach twist in response and I observed Bellamy over my shoulder with wide eyes.

“No, she can’t have.” I gasped in denial as I felt fear gripping my chest.

Without a single word, Bellamy rushed from the ship and I was still trapped, forced to wait nervously. I continued to nurse Murphy as he gradually got worse, but I could hardly think straight over the panic in my mind. After a few moments, Bellamy dragged Octavia into the shop and Clare began checking her over. By this point, many other people were arriving and the space was quickly becoming crowded. I waited anxiously for an answer from Clarke, as she shined a flashlight in Octavia’s mouth. 

“Okay, we’re done.” She announced and I immediately rushed over to find out what was happening. “No visible signs of swelling or bleeding.” She explained and I peeked up at Bellamy to see him holding a rag over his face. If I weren’t still furious with his behaviour today I’d scold him for even being in here, but I knew that like me, when it came to Octavia there was no reasoning with him.

“So you’re saying she doesn’t have it?” Bellamy asked hopefully and I found myself hoping alongside him.

“I’m saying she doesn’t have symptoms, like Indigo. But that could change. We need to keep her here too, just in case.” Clarke reported in a matter of fact manner and I mentally thanked every force I could for keeping her healthy so far.

“No way. Look at this place. She’ll get sick just being here.” Bellamy argued against the order and for the first time today I actually agreed with him.

“Seriously Clarke, she can’t be here.” I blurted despite my reluctance to agree with Bellamy and he glanced at me, quickly looking away when he saw that I noticed.

“Do you want to stop the spread or not?” Clarke probed in an exasperated voice and Bellamy scanned the sick people filling the room reluctantly. “Look, I’ll keep her on the third level with the people who aren’t symptomatic yet.” She clarified but it was clear that he still wasn’t convinced. “Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again.” She reasoned and I studied her suspiciously.

“Screw you Clarke.” Octavia spat and I smiled at her attitude. Clarke shrugged in a tired response and I realised that she seemed to be getting worse too. 

“I’ll let you know if her condition changes.” She promised and Bellamy finally nodded in agreement. I hid my relief when he finally left the ship and it wasn’t lost on me that it took the promise of containing his sister to motivate him to agree to keeping her here. Octavia stepped to climb the ladder but Clarke turned immediately to stop her. “Octavia stop.” She blurted and I watched with interest, already feeling that Clarke was up to something. “I need you to sneak out again.” She divulged and I couldn’t contain the words that fought their way from me.

“No, absolutely not.” I growled as I stepped in front of Octavia defensively in an effort to shield her from Clarke’s plan.

“We need to know if there’s a cure. If she can get to Lincoln, he may have an antidote, like last time.” Clarke reasoned as she addressed me and I spied her with an expression of disbelief.

“If she can get there! In case you forgot, the woods are filled with grounders who want us dead.” I argued as I stepped closer into her space in a threatening manner.

“I can do it, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Octavia answered, taking advantage of the slight additional distance between us now. She rushed from my reach before I could stop her and although I moved to catch her up, she practically ran out of the dropship. Clarke stepped into my path with a wavering attempt at a firm look. 

“Indigo, people are dying, she’s our only chance.” Clarke appealed to me and I glared at her in fury, pacing like a caged animal.

“This was a mistake, and lying to Bellamy about it is even worse. He trusted you to keep her safe.” I spat in disgust. “I’m sick of everyone in this camp involving me in their lies.” I breathed but I was interrupted by the sound of Murphy choking again. I tore myself away from Clarke to tend to him again, despite wishing that I’d been able to fully express my disappointment with her decision.

Clarke rounded up some of the more able members of the quarantine to remove the bodies of those who had already succumbed to the infection. She followed them out whilst I looked after Murphy in an effort to stop myself obsessing over Octavia. I started to lightly cough and when I returned my gaze to him, Murphy was staring at me with alarm.

“Your eyes.” He gasped. I rubbed the edge of my eye and glanced down at my hand to find tears that were tinted with a slightly pink tone. Murphy leaned over to grab a clean rag and wiped away any trace of the fluid. I smiled at him gratefully and got to my feet. 

I quickly walked to the entrance in search of Clarke. I was driven by a need to tell her that her immunity theory wasn’t looking promising, as I now panicked that Octavia could have developed symptoms whilst alone in the woods. I stepped just outside of the doors and found Clarke standing on the ramp to the ship talking to Bellamy from a distance. As I wandered out, Clarke turned around to head in and clocked my presence with a worried expression.

“Octavia, you okay?” Bellamy called upwards and Clarke met my eyes in pure panic. When he didn't receive an answer, he moved to storm into the ship and I stepped past her to block him from entering. I couldn’t allow him to put himself at risk, especially only to find that he’d been lied to. 

“She’s not here Bellamy. Clarke sent her to look for Lincoln, against my advice.” I answered with bitterness, glaring at Clarke in annoyance. I was done with helping to keep secrets. She turned reluctantly to face him and he glowered at her viciously. 

“Look, if there’s a cure, he has it.” She tried to justify her decision but he seemed thoroughly unimpressed with her excuse. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let her go.” She admitted in a small voice causing him to scoff.

“If anything happens to her, you and me are gonna have problems.” He growled, before turning on his heel to stomp away from us.

“Us too.” I spat, crossing my arms at her. “You should have trusted him with the decision. He’s more reasonable than you give him credit for.” I stated firmly. Despite my outrage at his behaviour today, I didn’t appreciate her treating him like a wild animal. 

A commotion in the crowd drew my attention as Bellamy yelled at someone to get to the dropship. I scanned the faces until I found the person who was coughing up blood and I calmly walked over to them. At the same time, another person fell to the ground on the other side of the gathered crowd. I could hear a panic overtaking as people started to frantically rush out of the way, but I kept my focus on the guy who was now bleeding profusely from his eyes. As I reached him, I wrapped an arm around his waist to support his weight and assisted in getting him to the ship. As the screaming grew louder, I could feel the camp descending into chaos around me but I resisted the urge to look around or involve myself in any way. Clarke appeared at the entrance of the dropship with a large gun and fired multiple shots into the air to draw the attention of the crowd. I was nearly at the door by the time she took control and ignored her opening speech. I struggled inside and placed the person I’d supported down into a comfortable position with others who could tend to them. I straightened myself up and started marching toward the gate to exit camp with purpose. I heard Bellamy violently disarm someone who was foolish enough to point a gun at Clarke, but I didn’t stop moving due to fear of drawing attention to myself. 

“Not to state the obvious, but your quarantine isn’t working.” Bellamy addressed her firmly and I breathed a slight laugh.

“Finn don’t touch her!” I heard Raven call out in a panicked tone. I glanced over my shoulder to see Finn running over to catch Clarke as her knees buckled and I rolled my eyes at his foolishly romantic nature. Just as I reached out to touch the gate Bellamy appeared beside me, holding it closed to stop me from leaving. 

“Where are you going?” He grilled as he surveyed me in a state of disbelief. I fidgeted on the spot as I squirmed under his intense gaze.

“To find Octavia before this madness gets any worse.” I explained as I tried in vain to push past him but he put a hand on my arm as he spoke again.

“You’re supposed to be in quarantine.” He stated firmly as he raised a brow at me and I was surprised to find that the tension between us from earlier seemed to have dissolved.

“Then you probably shouldn’t be touching me.” I replied, glancing down at his hand with a sly smile and he stepped back with a reluctance in his eyes. “She’s been out there for too long, I need to find her. I’m not sick, I can do it.” I insisted as I lied through my teeth in the hope that he couldn’t see any hint of the tears that Murphy had wiped away earlier. As they were only slightly tinged with red, I felt I still had enough time to recover Octavia and get back before my symptoms worsened. He leaned back to allow me to leave but before I could move, the gate swung open to reveal Octavia who pushed past the two of us without a word.

“There is no cure.” She announced in a flat tone as she drew the attention of the camp. “But the grounders don’t use the sickness to kill.” She clarified, causing the sounds of confusion to echo from the crowd. Bellamy strode over to her in irritation and I stayed rooted to the spot, unwilling to put myself in the middle of them again. 

“Really? Tell that to them!” He argued, as he pointed to the pile of bodies that had just been carried from the ship. “I warned you about seeing that grounder again.” He hissed in a disappointed manner and I found myself relieved that I hadn’t been a part of that conversation. 

“Yeah well, I have a warning for you too.” She spat, looking at him with the same furious disdain she had viewed me with yesterday. “The grounders are coming! They’re attacking at first light!” She yelled, earning several gasps and cries of panic from the camp. I felt myself tense in response to this information and Octavia turned to face me with wide eyes. “Indigo, your eyes!” She gasped. I put a hand to my eyes and found red tears again, which were significantly more vivid than when they had started earlier. 

“Shit.” I hissed, before holding up a hand to keep her away. “Don’t touch me, I need to get back to quarantine.” I ordered firmly and couldn’t help feeling frustrated that my symptoms had worsened so quickly. Octavia inspected me in worry, but I waited for her to move first in an attempt to keep her at a distance. She sighed and started to walk away, but instead of taking herself away from infected people she approached Finn, glancing back to check that I was following. 

“Come on, I’ll help you get Clarke into the dropship.” She suggested as they started to carry Clarke between them. I slowly plodded through camp and towards the ship, finding the short journey back far more difficult than I did the first time. 

“How many bullets can you make by first light?”

 I heard Bellamy speaking to Raven as I passed them and I got the strange sensation that everything was happening in slow motion. I felt my legs shaking and my vision gradually blurred until I couldn’t make out my surroundings. Before I could reach out to anything to support myself, my legs gave way and I dropped toward the ground. I was surprised when I didn’t feel an impact and instead seemed to be rising higher. I felt myself being cradled and squinted to my side to see Bellamy regarding me in concern. It took me a moment to understand that he had caught me and was clutching me to his chest in a bridal style carry.

“Stop!” I tried to sound assertive but my voice came out quiet and croaking. “Don’t touch me, you’ll get sick.” I hissed whilst I tried to push him away.

“Too late to worry about that now.” He tried to force a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes, which still scrutinised me with worry.

“No it’s not, put me down and rinse your hands in alcohol.” I ordered and although it sounded authoritative in my mind, my words came out breathy and soft. I wiggled in an attempt to get away from him for a second, before my arms dropped limply and I felt my head tipping back. I had no energy left to move at all and hung in his arms like a ragdoll.

“Let’s get you inside.” Bellamy answered gently, carrying me toward the dropship.

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 4/?

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Summary: After the death of one of her best friends, Y/N’s feud with Murphy gets out of hand and Charlotte betrays her.

Warnings: death, violence, gore, swearing, hanging, suicidal thoughts, suicide

Notes: buckle in, because this is a rough chapter, my dudes. Based on 1x04 “Murphy’s Law”

Wells was dead.

She had done nothing but ignore him since they landed on the ground, and now he was dead. Gone. Forever.

She would never get to see him again.

Never get to play chess with him again.

She couldn’t even remember the last thing she had said to him. 

She couldn’t even feel the grief that ran through her body. She was numb, sprinkling dirt on the mound that represented his burial site. 

The mound that represented all seventeen years of his life.

“May we meet again.” Y/N whispered, a small tear streaking down her grimy face. She stood up, turning around to see Bellamy standing there, arms crossed, his gaze soft.

“I’m sorry” He murmured, trying to reach out to her.

Y/N swallowed, gulping down her grief into her gut, pushing past the soldier and heading for the dropship, a head of blonde hair collapsing into her shoulder before she could enter. She wrapped her arms around Clarke’s mourning figure, the two girls silent as their emotions transferred over to each other, relishing in the comfort they gave each other.

“It wasn’t him” She whispered, pulling away and wiping the tears from her face. “Wells didn’t turn us in. My mom did.”

Her heart continued to rip, the numbness spreading further as Y/N offered her sympathies, “Clarke, I’m so sorry.”

The girl bit her lip, her voice thick with anger, “My own mother killed my father. How does someone do that?”

Y/N knew exactly how. “They see no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice.” Clarke’s anger radiated from her, mixing with grief over losing her best friend. She held her head high as she walked away, encouraging the others to continue building the wall. Y/N threw a look around, watching as the camp began to devolve into chaos. Octavia mostly sat with her thoughts, sharpening the makeshift weapons, while Murphy continued his tyrannical reign, abusing Connor as he struggled to lift a log. 

Y/N exhaled, resigning to her circumstances as she joined Monty in the dropship, helping create a form of interspacial morse code. 

She picked apart Octavia’s fried wristband, examining for any components that could help the two of them. 

“Y/N” Monty called, stretching his way across the workbench, “Can you hand me those tacks?”

“Yeah” she responded, leaving her tools at her work station as she went to meet Monty’s demand, handing him the small bolts leftover from the crash. “How are you doing?” She asked, hovering as she watched him push the small tack through the hole he had created, trying to forget about the events of the morning.

“I should be asking you that question.” Monty responded, “But I’m doing okay, would be better if I could find some way to keep the bracelets alive for longer than five seconds.”

Y/N chuckled, the first smile that day. “I’ll keep checking my book and Octavia’s bracelet for anything we need. I’d love it if we could find some kind of solar transmitter.”

“On the ground where the biggest technology is spears?” Monty brought up, twiddling with Clarke’s freshly removed wristband, “Not likely.”

Another chuckle escaped her, turning around as she heard boots clang against the metal floor, meeting Bellamy’s cold gaze. The stoic leader was back. “How’s the radio coming?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“It’s coming.” Y/N responded coldly, crossing her arms. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with him right now. “What did you need?”

“You” He spoke, catching her off guard. She stumbled backward at the news. “Jasper and Octavia found something, they wanna brief us in Clarke’s tent.”

Y/N nodded, grasping her jacket and slipping her arms through it as she passed Bellamy. 

“Franco, wait--” He called, running after her so they were walking side by side. 

“What do you want Blake?” She returned the favor, since he refused to call her by her first name. At this point, she’d honestly prefer the nickname, but he hadn’t used that since their fiasco in the cave.

“I wanted to say sorry” That stopped her in her tracks, his big brown eyes softening as he gazed down at her, fiddling with his thumbs. “For the cave, for Wells. For everything really.”

Warmth stirred in her chest, the gesture meaning more than she expected it to. Her stomach flopped, the hairs on the back of her neck stirring.

“Thanks” She choked out before heading into Clarke’s tent where Octavia and Jasper stood holding a knife.

Clarke’s eyes flickered as Y/N entered the room, grief still present in both girls as she examined the silver and yellow weapon.

“This knife..” Clarke realized, her blue eyes widening. “It was made of material from the dropship.”

“And that means?”

Y/N inhaled, insides threatening to collapse. “Someone in the camp killed Wells.” There was a traitor among them. A killer. 

They had been sent down with a murderer unafraid of the consequences.

“We need to keep this quiet,” Bellamy responded.

“Why?” anger laced Y/N’s voice, something dark swirling in her chest at the thought of Wells’ killer going unpunished. 

“So we’re just going to let a killer walk among us? Without punishment?” Clarke echoed Y/N’s sentiment, desiring the same thing she was.

Bellamy stared at the two women, eyes growing wide in fear as he caught the madness stirring behind both of their eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying Clarke,” He defended, “Believe it or not, letting the others think the grounders killed Wells is good for us. The fear of grounders is building that wall. It’s keeping us safe.” He let out a sigh, “besides there’s no way  we can even tell who did it.”

“I can” Clarke bragged, holding the knife at an angle so the initials carved into them shone in the natural light. 

JM. John Murphy.

“The people have a right to know.”

Clarke pushed past Bellamy’s protests, straight toward Murphy, brandishing his knife, accusing him of killing Wells. Y/N shot a look at Bellamy before following after her, desperate to gain some kind of closure for her friend.

“I didn’t kill Wells, the grounders did.” Murphy protested, trademark sneer written all across his face. 

“Liar” Y/N called, unable to stop the visceral reaction pouring out of her. “You’ve hated him since he first stepped foot in this camp.”

“Yeah, a lot of people did Franco,” Murphy continued, defiance written across his face.

Octavia spoke up in her defense, “He tried to kill Jasper too!”

“What?” the younger kid traded a stare with Y/N, who shrugged before Jasper gulped down his nerves and faced his almost killer.

Murphy scoffed. “I don’t have to answer to any of you.” He spun to face the rest of the group, “I don’t have to answer to anyone!”

“Come again?” Bellamy asked, crossing his arms. Murphy met his gaze and a fearful look crossed his face. The first time any of them had seen Murphy so anxious since walking into this camp.

“Bellamy, please, you have to believe that I didn’t do this.”

Y/N watched as Bellamy refused to submit, uncertainty flashing in his eyes as he let out an exhale. 

“Do you all want to live in a society with no rules?” Clarke asked, pleading to the people’s ethos, “Where people can kill without consequences? Where the guilty can go unpunished?”

“I say we float him!” Connor called, murder in his eyes. 

Y/N moved forward, “We are not the Ark.” She reminded him. Even if Murphy did kill Wells that didn’t mean they had the right to choose who lived and who died.

“It’s justice!” he called, rallying the crowd behind him.

“It's not justice it’s vengeance!” Clarke announced.

By the time she voiced her protest, the crowd was already atop Murphy and Y/N became a bystander, breath hitching, chest heaving as they dragged his body through the mud, his face unrecognizable. 

The numbness persisted, only replaced by anger as she imagined Murphy’s hands on Wells’ throat, the blood pouring over his hands while he sneered, Wells taking his last breath with Murphy’s victorious face looming over him. Suddenly, she couldn’t find a shred of sympathy remaining in her. 

Her eyes met Murphy’s helpless ones, darkness spreading through her as the noose tightened.

“Bellamy should do it!” Connor called, ushering the leader forward, the crowd chanting his name, Clarke trying to appeal to the softer part of him. His gaze locked with Y/N’s. He was waiting for her approval.

She nodded, the same thought existing in their mind.

Attachment is death.

He turned around to face the accused, rushing forward and pushing the crate from underneath his feet. No hesitation. No attachment. 

They would survive.

“What the hell are you doing?” Finn called from the treeline, moving forward to cut the rope, stopped by the mob underneath them. The madness continued, camp devolving until there was nothing but anarchy left in its wake. 

He deserved this, she told herself. 

He killed Wells.

He tried to kill Jasper.

He wanted to kill her.

“Stop it!” A small voice called, pulling her from her thoughts. A voice she recognized. “Murphy didn’t kill Wells!” 

The crowd went silent. 

“I did” Charlotte’s confession hung in the air, the pointed edge of the emotional dagger slipping deeper into Y/N’s heart as she struggled to look at this girl--this killer, with the same eyes she did only days before. 

Bellamy brought her into the tent, asking the question on everyone’s mind. “Charlotte, how could you do this?”

“I was just slaying my demons, like you told me.” She defended. 

Y/N spun to face Bellamy. What had he told her? What had happened in that cave while she was asleep? What could he have said to make her a murderer?

“She misunderstood” Bellamy explained, breath quickening. “Charlotte that is not what I meant.”

The girl shook where she stood. “Please don’t let them kill me.”

“We won’t,” Clarke promised, underlying anger lacing her voice, “But you need to understand. You killed someone Charlotte! Ended his life!” Charlotte met Y/N’s gaze, pleading with the woman she had grown so close to. “Please.”

“I told you to talk to someone!” Y/N scolded, disbelief coursing through her, “I told you Wells was there for you and instead you killed him!” She shook her head, stepping away from the younger girl, “This is your mistake Charlotte. You have to deal with the consequences.”

“Charlotte!” Murphy’s voice rang out, “Come on out here! I just wanna talk.”

Bullshit, Y/N rolled her eyes, storming out with Bellamy to face the tyrant, their presence comforting each other as a smirk drew itself on Murphy’s face. 

Even if Charlotte had killed Wells, did that mean she deserved to die? Murphy did, she knew. But Charlotte was twelve, a child. Couldn’t they offer her mercy?

“Looks like the king and queen have decided to grace us with their presence,” Murphy quipped sarcastically, “I hope you’re not expecting me to bow down.”

“Go float yourself, Murphy” Y/N shot back, anger fading to the familiar emptiness she had been feeling all day. 

“You already did that, remember?” His sneer was gone, replaced by the darkness Y/N had seen earlier. “Who’s gonna hang me this time?”

“I was just giving the people what they want” Bellamy justified, his own words tasting like ash in his mouth. 

Murphy chuckled darkly. “Right, let’s see what the people want then.” He turned around, facing the group as he yelled out, “Who wants to see the real Murderer Hang?!”

Silence. 

He chuckled again, “I see, so all of you are ready to string up me for nothing? But when this bitch confesses, you want to let her free?”

The fight that broke out hit Y/N by surprise. She brandished her knife, swiping at the people who approached her, her hand reaching around before lodging the blade deep into one of Murphy’s cronies, pulling the weapon from his thigh as he screamed, collapsing to the ground. 

Her foot slammed into his face, knocking him out cold. 

“Bellamy?” She asked worried, shaking the leader until he woke, promising her that they were going after Charlotte. His eyes fluttered open and Octavia helped pull him to his feet and Bellamy turned toward Y/N’s worrying figure. 

“We’ll go after her,” He told her, “I promise.”

She nodded and the two grasped their pack, following Murphy’s tracks deep into the forest.

The trees offered no comfort this time, knowing Murphy was using it as cover from the others, and Charlotte was trapped with Clarke and Finn somewhere they couldn’t find her.

She had done this.

She had blown up at the girl.

She had hanged Murphy.

“Hey,” Bellamy grasped her arm bringing Y/N back to reality, “We’ll find her. She’ll be okay.”

She nodded, her response cut off by a scream.

They sprinted.

By the time they found Charlotte again, the girl was feeling self-sacrificial and Murphy had found them.

“MURPHY!” Charlotte yelled over Bellamy’s shoulder, “I’m here!”

Y/N gave an apprehensive look back, “He’s gaining” She warned, picking up the pace.

They broke through the tree line, the threesome skidding to a stop before the edge of a cliff, the ravine stretching into the depths below. Her chest heaved up and down and she twirled her knife in her hand, spinning around as Murphy broke into the clearing.

“Give me the girl Bellamy,” Murphy ordered, a sick smile across his face.

Y/N stepped forward, placing herself between the two men, ready to protect Bellamy and Charlotte from his wrath. “She’s a child.”

Murphy's eyes flashed red, “So was I.”

In a flash his arm was around her neck, the sharp blade of the knife held against her throat. The trees rustled, Clarke and Finn breaking through, horror widening their eyes as they gazed upon the scene in front of them. 

“Hand over the girl, or Sparky here dies.” He gestured toward her, the knife digging further. 

“No!” Charlotte called, sobs awakening, “Please don’t hurt her.”

Bellamy scanned the situation before him, grip still tight on Charlotte’s arm. Clarke stepped forward. 

“Murphy, come on, we can talk this through” She pleaded, not wanting to lose another one of her friends. 

“I’m done hearing you talk.” He tightened his grip, knife breaking through the layer of skin, “Ten seconds.”

“Bellamy don’t!” Y/N called desperately, clawing at her throat.

“Ten” Murphy threatened. 

Bellamy’s pulse quickened, breathing shallow as he began to loosen his grip. He couldn’t lose her too. Not now. 

“Nine.”

“I’m not worth it.” Y/N choked out, her windpipe close to getting crushed.

“Eight.”

“Please don’t!” Charlotte pleaded, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry, please I’ll come with you just let her go!”

“No!” Y/N urged, “Charlotte don’t. It’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll be okay.” 

The little girl shook her head, tears streaming down her face as Murphy continued the countdown.

“Seven.”

Charlotte paused, “I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.”

“Six”

A breath.

“Five”

A beat.

“Four”

Charlotte ripped herself from Bellamy’s arms, throwing herself off the edge of the cliff, body plummeting into the ravine below. Murphy released Y/N in surprise. 

“NO!” Bellamy called down as Y/N fell beside him, staring down into the abyss.

“Charlotte!” Y/N called down, grief shooting her through the chest, cutting through her endless numbness and setting her body aflame. 

Her mom. Atom. Wells. Charlotte. 

She was a bomb, lying in wait until someone came too close and then...boom.

Clarke sobbed beside her, Bellamy staring down in shock. 

Her mouth grew slack, eyes unable to tear themselves away from the ravine until Bellamy stood, the sound of skin against skin pulling her upward. The soldier was atop Murphy, his fists pummeling into the delinquent's face, his screams ringing through the air. 

“Bellamy stop!” Y/N called, reaching out.

Finn reached him first, pulling the older boy off of Murphy, “You’ll kill him.”

“He deserves to die!” Bellamy raged, anger ablaze in his eyes, face alight with an untapped rage that Y/N had never seen.

“No!” Clarke reprimanded, “We don’t decide who lives and dies. Not down here!”

“I swear to god if you say the people--”

“No” Clarke shook her head, “I was wrong. But we need rules! We can’t just live by whatever the hell we want.”

Bellamy snarled, “Oh yeah, and who makes those rules? You?” He threw a pointed look their way. 

“From now on we will.” Y/N offered, calmly stepping forward. “All three of us.”

“So what?” Bellamy asked, still seething, “We just let him back into camp? After everything he’s done?”

“No--” 

“Then what?!”

Y/N stared at Murphy, bloodied and covered in mud, barely able to stand. “We banish him.” She replied, catching the arguing leaders by surprise. 

“And if he refuses to leave?” Bellamy’s pessimistic attitude was really starting to get to her again.

“Then we kill him.” Clarke offered, sending a cold look toward Murphy. Bellamy sniffed, his eyes latching onto the fresh cut on Y/N’s neck, the newly drawn blood sending him flying toward Murphy, dragging him by the collar to the edge of the ravine. 

“I see you anywhere near here, and you’re dead.” He snarled, pressing his knife deep into his neck before throwing him headfirst into the ground, storming away. 

Y/N shot a pitiful look his way, throwing her blunt knife to the ground, giving him more than one weapon. 

His hoarse voice called after her, “You’re not like us. I saw your blood, you can’t hide your secret forever.”

She leaned down, hand squeezing a clump of his hair as she responded darkly, “I’ve kept this safe for eighteen years. If I get any ideas about you even thinking about breaking that streak, then I’ll hang you myself.”

She pushed his face deep into the mud, striding back to camp.

***

“You wanna do the honors?” Monty asked the newly recovered Jasper, a smile on both of their faces. The radio was finished. The would soon be able to contact the Ark. Some good had come out of this day after all. Y/N watched eagerly as Jasper plugged the cord into the port.

The device sparked, drawing electricity as the wristband fell dark. 

A jolt of pain distracted her and she watched as her wristband clanged against the metal of the dropship. 

Dark.

She leaned down, hands gingerly clenching the silver device, blocking out all sound as she retreated into her tent, the wind howling outside. What was she going to do now? Her family was up there. Her friends were up there. How many of them would follow down if they thought she was dead?

Her hand ran itself through her hair, a visceral scream exiting her mouth as she threw the useless piece of metal against the ground, hanging her head in her hands. It didn’t matter anymore. Her survival didn’t matter anymore.

She should’ve let Murphy kill her back there. What else did she have to live for?

Saltwater burned her skin as the tears fell.

The dam was broken. Her wall was being torn apart piece by piece. 

“Hey Franco, Miller��s--” Bellamy stopped when he saw the state she was in, “--looking for you.”

Y/N turned away, trying to wipe away the tears as they came. “Go away Bellamy” She requested, not wanting to see anyone at all. 

He didn’t move, hesitating instead. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.” He advised, settling in next to her. “No one expects you to.”

She laughed mirthlessly, “Everyone expects me to.” She breathed, voice hoarse, “It’s why I wanted Murphy to kill me back by the cliff.”

Whoops, there it was. Her secret was out. 

“I’m a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any minute” She explained, the numbness returning as she stared ahead. “People would be better off if I just...disappeared.”

Bellamy gulped, “That’s not true. You had the option to float yourself and you didn’t” He reminded her, catching the engineer by surprise, “You chose Earth. Something in you wants to live Franco, and it’s time you listened to it.”

She smiled at the encouraging speech, the newfound warmth pushing back the emptiness as she watched Bellamy stand, his hand lingering on her shoulder before making his exit. 

Her wall crumbled.

We getting some quality time! The pairing is coming together my people.

Please like, comment, and reblog!

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[chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky]

I wish you would write an AU s1 or s2 fic with all the delinquents + Lincoln just having a domestic day teasing each other

I love this prompt so much! I really needed an angst-cleansing palette, how did you know? I say this is around S1 (so my love Wells can be alive) and there’s no war, just the Delinquents being the Delinquents of my dreams…

Shockingly, the stupid idea came from Miller, not Murphy.

He just really wanted to surf.So when Miller asked Clarke if they could send an exploration party to findwater after he carved a rotting piece of wood, she didn’t think it was aterrible idea. After all, it came from Miller. How awful could it be?

Turns out? Pretty awful.

They discovered the wood was rotting in the middle of the water. WithMiller on it. One disastrously rogue wave later, the board was split in halfand Clarke had Miller on the beach, lips blue and chest still. Pounding hischest, Clarke lets out a litany of swears that even Bellamy raises an eyebrowto, not stopping until Miller coughs and water spills from his mouth.

“Damn, Princess.” Bellamy utters under his breath. “Didn’t know you hadit in you.”

Clarke wipes her forehead with her forearm, resting her hands on herhips and leaning back on her hips as Wells helps Miller to an upright position.“I’ve been saving all of you since day one, what are you talking about?”

“I meant the swearing.” Bellamy says with a smirk. “Didn’t thinkroyalty had such mouths. Weak chins and all, from holding their heads up in theair.”

Clarke fixes him a look, rolling her eyes when she sees the teasing inhis expression. Brewing somewhere behind is genuine worry as his gaze flits toMiller, who seems to be fine and exclaiming he needs to find better wood for abetter board. Bellamy barks a laugh, clapping a hand on his back beforedeclaring that maybe the beach day should be a little more low key.

No one died today. Probably a good idea to keep it that way.

Which is how they find themselves surrounded by a bonfire, Clarkesetting a few feet from Bellamy, casting glares at him. “Oh settle down,” Wellssays nudging her shoulder and handing her a jug that Monty and Jasper hadbrought. Clarke talks a swig and nearly chokes as it stings down her throat. “Yeah,I probably should’ve warned you that wasn’t water.”

Clarke coughs, “You don’t say?” Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she keepsit in her hands. “Even on our days off, we can’t escape it.”

“Yeah, you can’t escape Miller’s dumbassery.” Murphy calls from acrossthe fire. “Sorry Clarke, you could search the whole planet and there’d be noescape.”

Miller, who was seemingly having a decent conversation with Raven,scowls. “You should really look in a mirror before you say things like that.”

It even gets a laugh out of Clarke and she feels a set of eyes on her. Clarkedoesn’t even have to turn to know whose they are, so she takes another drink ofmoonshine before handing it back to Wells and waits. “So, Princess. Where’d youlearn to swear like you weren’t born in Alpha Station?”

Wells sighs. “You really have a misconception of what happens in AlphaStation.”

“Not talking to you, thanks.” Bellamy retorts. “Come on, Princess.Skeletons in your closet?”

“She was put in isolation for a year, what do you think?” Raven callsfrom across the fire.

“Skeletons in isolation!” Monty exclaims.

“Cool band name.” Jasper nods his head.

They high five.

Clarke can’t help but smile at the two of them, wondering when she sawthem as relaxed as they were. “What’s the matter, Bellamy?” Clarke asks, finallyturning her attention toward him. “Intimidated?”

He’s staring at her just as intently as she imagined. “Impressed,actually.” Bellamy finally tears his gaze away from her. “Might even giveMurphy a run for his money.”

“Aw,” Murphy says, putting his hand on his chest. “That’s so sweet.”

Wells makes a face. “Really?”

“No. Go fuck yourself.”

Clarke can’t help but join everyone’s laughter at her friend’s expense,but she places a hand on his shoulder when doing so. Wells even laughs athimself a bit, taking a drink before passing it on. “Didn’t think somethinglike swearing would impress you. You are aware I saved Miller’s life, right?”

“Yeah, but you’ve saved, like, all of our lives at this point. Oldnews.”

“Okay, then I’ll stop saving your lives. Problem solved.”

Bellamy puts his hands up. “No need to get defensive. Miller’s bound tobe an idiot again.”

Miller waves his hands in front of him. “Literally sitting right here,guys.”

“It’s nothing I wouldn’t say to your face.” Bellamy turns back toClarke. “But this is a new talent. I need time to adjust to this new image ofClarke Griffin. I can’t resolve it in my brain.”

“The sheer magnitude of the list of things you can’t resolve in yourbrain must make it very hard to simply walk around.” Clarke says back with ashrug.

Bellamy’s eyes widen. There’s a beat of tense silence. Then his facebreaks out in the first true smile she thinks she’s ever seen. It’s radiant. “Ican’t believe you said that to me.”

She can’t help it, the alcohol is settling in her system and she feels calmfor the first time in ages: so she giggles. “I can’t either.”

“I’m torn between being offended or even more impressed.”

“Why don’t you stick with the latter?”

Jasper leans into Monty, whispering so loudly he might as well haveshouted, “Is it the alcohol, or are they really vibin’ over there?”

“There are so many vibes.” Monty responds. “Vibes are flyingeverywhere.”

“That’s actually the fire,” Raven laughs, pulling them back beforeeither could sport an impressive set of singed hair. “Please don’t drink andcatch yourself on fire.”

“It’s not the fire,” Jasper says, shaking his head. “It’s the vibes.”

“The vibes.” Monty repeats. “The vibes.”

“Enough moonshine for you.” Bellamy barks, but there’s no heat in it.

“In fact, Bellamy takes a bottle from Monty and takes a long pull from it.After a few uncomfortable seconds, conversation settles back in and the ‘vibes’aren’t brought up again. Except Clarke catches Bellamy’s eye a few times, eyesglinting in the fire as he looks at her, hastily tearing it away when shecatches him. Clarke can’t help but smile to herself when she sees it, tryingher best to focus on the fire in front of her.

Too bad Monty and Jasper were right. It wasn’t the fire at all.

[universalfanfic]

This took me longer than it should have to write, but I wanted to add another part to the dd/amh au crossover. Because lack of impulse control. 

Mary belongs to @inkoutsidethelines 

Mary didn’t know what to say. After the words had left her lips, she expected to be thrown into a dungeon for real this time, but instead she was more confused than she’d been at the start. 

“You… know what Monty Python is?”

“How did you get here?” The queen turned to her husband, brow furrowed. “I thought The Vessel was secure.”

“It is. To my knowledge.”

Mary felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under her and the world flipped over on its head. 

This place wasn’t earth. She’d done enough sleuthing her first few days for it to become clear that she hadn’t been transported to an amish village or renaissance fair. And that had been hard enough to believe, but now? Now the queen of this place recognized a movie quote? 

“No flipping way.” The queen took a step closer, much to the guard’s dismay, and she stared intently at Mary as if she were some new creature. “What’s the capital of France?”

“Paris.”

“What’s in a galaxy far, far away?”

Mary’s face wrinkled at the interrogation.

“Uh, Star Wars?”

“What would you put sriracha on?”

“Almost everything?”

The queen stepped back, wide-eyed, and she let out a short breath in an astounded rush. 

“She’s legit. Oh my gosh.”

“I’m sorry,” Mary said as she waved her hands. “Wait- just-. Are you from earth?”

“Your majesty?”

Sir Wilson stepped forward, hand still resting on his hilt, as he cast a confused eye at Mary before turning fully to his queen. 

“Sorry, Sir Wilson. I know this is weird. And not exactly common knowledge.” 

“What is going on,” said Mary. 

Owen’s eyes widened in wonder as the words sank in. The mood in the room shifted from suspicion and gratitude to awe and confusion. 

“Mother, she’s from your world?”

Several people started to speak at once when Sir Wilson cleared his throat. He still looked troubled and doubtful. 

“Your majesties, regardless of where she hails from, I would still call for caution. We don’t know this woman or her intentions.” 

Owen visibly stiffened and the royal couple both noticed yet again. Mary leaned into his touch, careful to keep where her dagger sat below his hand. She needed to make sure she stayed in his favor. And by the look of determination that settled on his face, it seemed like the move worked. 

Oddly enough, the king’s own demeanor softened at the mention of earth. His expression held something like sympathy tinged with fondness, and he put an arm around his wife’s waist. 

“Even still,” the king said, “she is a guest and we are in her debt. Have a room prepared for her and let her get cleaned up.” He turned his gaze toward Mary and she swallowed. Perhaps she’d be able to get out of this after all. 

“If you need anything, ask.” He said. “It will be brought to you.”

Mary nodded and fidgeted, moving slightly away from Owen, and her dagger from his hand, as some of the danger passed. 

“Some food would be nice,” she hedged.

The king nodded and Owen spoke. 

“I’ll bring-”

“No. We need to speak, Owen.”

“Father-”

“This isn’t a debate.” The king’s tone turned more gentle. “You’ll live.”

Sir Wilson didn’t look fully satisfied with the turn of events and Mary decided to avoid him at all possible costs. He was the only one asking probing questions and she didn’t need that right now. Especially with her head still reeling like it was. 

“Hey,” the queen said; and Mary’s head snapped up. “If anyone starts, you know, singing? You just have to ride it out, ok? You can’t stop them.”

Mary had no clue what to do with that. But she nodded anyway since it seemed the polite thing to do. A guard was sent ahead to pass on orders to the castle staff, and they left the guard’s building to head back to the castle themselves. 

While the guard’s office had been minimal, the inside of the castle was much more elaborate and fine. It was expected, Mary knew, but the sight of it all still made her wonder in surprise. It was warm inside, with the scent of fresh bread and flowers mingling in the air. Colorful tapestries lined the walls along with some vibrant landscapes.

It was precisely the sort of thing that Mary expected a fairy tale to look like. 

Owen, as well as the guards, kept close to her during their walk but luckily he allowed some distance between them after a few pointed looks from his parents. It seemed they also found his behavior a bit odd. 

Mary filed that away as another thing to deal with later. Preferably after some food and getting the guards to ease off her case. 

Having someone else from earth here changed things. It being the queen only made it better. Mary could play up the confused, misplaced traveler bit, not that it wasn’t genuine, and they could possibly help her get home. 

“Do you have castles on earth?”

Owen’s voice broke her away from her musings, and Mary looked up. His face was open and sincere, and attention devoutly centered on her. Mary shrugged. 

“Yeah. But they’re old and no one really lives in them anymore.”

“Oh. Well, I’d be happy to give you a tour when your settled. Hopefully everything is satisfactory.” 

“It’s great.”

Of course it was fine. Great. But something itched at the back of Mary’s mind and she couldn’t identify it. Everything in the castle was clearly quality and lush. But it felt like something was missing.

A shout erupted from down the hall and all turned to look as Princess Willow sprinted in their direction, skirts lifted and all. 

“Lady Hero!” 

Mary had to put a foot back to brace herself as the small girl collided with her, arms wrapped around Mary’s waist.

“Thank you for helping me! You were quite brave- Oh, is that a knife? Do you hide knives like Mistress Natasha?” 

Willow’s hands were directly over the hilt of the dagger and she stared up at Mary so unknowingly. Like she didn’t understand that this could be dangerous, or how much danger she could put Mary in. Mary blanched and held up her hands as the guards at her back began to draw their swords. 

“Wait, wait! It’s not-”

“Stand down,” said Owen. 

All eyes were on her and defenses were up. The exact situation she didn’t want. Mary swallowed as her heart began to beat faster. She gestured down to the waistband of her trousers.

“I can grab-”

“Don’t move!”

“I was just going to-”

“Wait a moment.”

Mary blinked as Willow’s voice fluctuated in melody. In front of her, the queen groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. Surprisingly, everyone did freeze in place.

“Let’s all just take a second, to breathe and to think!

This Lady Hero has come and saved me from deceit 

Can’t we all be kind, and lay down our pointy knives?” 

Mary’s mind was spinning once again. Willow’s voice was light and high and just as she started speaking, someone in the castle started music back up again. Mary turned wide eyes to the queen and the queen winced with a small shrug. 

“The dangers too great, princess can’t you see?

This world is filled with violent possibilities.”

No one even reacted as Sir Wilson joined in. Mary thought she was going to choke. She reached back, pulled the knife from the back of her trousers and dropped it on the ground in one swift movement.

“There! I only had it for self defense.”

The music stopped playing and the singing stopped. Mary let out a breath and the queen nodded sagely.

“That was about how I felt.” 

No one else looked especially disturbed. Except, however, Sir Wilson, who snatched up her stolen dagger and tucked it away. He only kept back at Owen’s warning look. 

Willow grabbed Mary’s hands and grinned up at her. For the first time Mary was paying enough attention to notice that Willow had two differently colored eyes. One green and one blue. 

“I like the sparkles in you,” she said. “They’re really warm.” 

Mary tried to delicately flex her fingers to dislodge them from the girl’s hold.

“Um, thank you?” “Willow, come here. What did we talk about saying silly things?” 

Willow let go and skipped to her mother. 

“Silly is for family and friends.” 

They began moving again, and Owen hesitated, as if he wanted to put a hand on her shoulder but wasn’t certain about it. 

“I’m sorry about the guards. I promise they only mean well,” he said. “Are you feeling alright? You look… overwhelmed.”

Mary licked her lips and ticked her head to the side. 

“That’s one way of putting it.”

[fleimkepakosskairipa]

Mini Meta because I don’t have the capability to write a full on meta, based on this scene from Season Six, Episode Two.

Tagging @fleimkepajohnmurphy and @spacekru-defense because they both said I should write this!

So, I’m gonna go over a few specific lines and some body language/actions because some of them really stood out to me and I think they’re really telling. 

Also, just a warning, this is very critical of Clarke and Bellarke. I don’t like Clarke or Bellarke, even when I’m trying to be unbiased, Clarke comes off badly and Bellarke comes off as abusive, because that’s the way I see canon. So, if you’re a Clarke or Bellarke stan, good for you, but this probably isn’t the Meta for you.

Under a read more, because even though it’s a Mini Meta, it’s still kind of long and includes spoilers!

‘This isn’t The Ring. We’re not playing games down here.’  

Bellamy says that when he’s trying to get Murphy to come out. This line implies that they did ‘play games’ in The Ring. They had their issues, obviously, and they skittered around them, not directly confronting them at first. But we season in the Season Five premiere, and the rest of the season, that they’re close and have gotten over their issues. I don’t think they’d be as close as they obviously are if they both admit they had issues and things they weren’t talking about if they didn’t eventually talk about it and get closure. You know, the thing Bellamy and Clarke didn’t do and don’t have. 

‘What do you say I put it down and we talk?’  

Murphy says that when Bellamy points out that Murphy has a gun so he’s the more violent/dangerous one. Murphy immediately says he’s correct, unloads the gun, and throws both the gun and the bullets away from him. Bellamy is right in the middle of the psychosis and extremely dangerous and Murphy willingly puts down the gun and puts himself in danger because he trusts Bellamy and just wants him to be okay again even if it puts him at risk.

‘Turn people who love each other into homicidal maniacs.’

Murphy says that to Bellamy. Murphy admits him and Bellamy love each other. Given Murphy is, well, Murphy, he probably wouldn’t say that he loves Bellamy for the first time in this instance or assume that Bellamy loves him. He could have said care about each other, are friends, anything, but he said ‘love’. Platonically, romantically, as family, whatever way you take it, they love each other.

‘John Murphy. The court jester.’ - Bellamy

‘It beats useless.’ - Murphy

‘Not by much.’ - Bellamy

Monty used the exact word ‘useless’ last season and said that Murphy doesn’t like being called useless, so it was probably common knowledge on The Ring. Even if it was, and it might not have even been, Murphy still brings up the word ‘useless’. He uses it a lot, that word and other words with the same meaning, it’s a sore spot for him and a way to hurt him, but he still brings it up, he still gives Bellamy the chance to hurt him with that word. Maybe because he trusts Bellamy even in his psychosis, maybe because talking to Bellamy after a few minutes he goes back to how he would normally talk with him but that still means that Murphy completely trusts him, either way, useless is an important word to Murphy and he gives it to Bellamy.

Murphy charges Bellamy in a way that gives Bellamy more power and never once punches him.

 Murphy goes out of his way to restrain Bellamy while not hurting him. The second time he charges him, he goes for the bottom of his stomach, making it extremely easy for Bellamy to punch him in the back or knee him in the face or hurt him even more than he already has, but he still doesn’t hurt him. Right before Bellamy drowns him, he throws a punch, but it’s so messy and off and away from Bellamy I can’t believe his intention was to actually hit Bellamy. 

Clarke’s not affected as much.

She’s not affected as much in this scene. I haven’t seen the whole episode, but in this scene, she’s barely affected. So, she doesn’t love as fiercely or as strongly as Bellamy. And the person she’s going against is herself, meaning she loves herself more than Bellamy. Like, I can’t even explain it more than that, it’s just what’s in the scene and it’s so obvious there’s barely anything between the lines to read.

‘I’m not gonna let you hurt us.’

‘How many times have you tried to kill me now?’

Bellamy says the first to Murphy and the second to Clarke. It’s a little difference, but it’s important. Bellamy says ‘us’ to Murphy, but ‘me’ to Clarke. Bellamy cares more about other people than himself, so he’s more upset about other people, or ‘us’, getting hurt than himself. And Murphy has the opportunity to hurt ‘us’ because he’s close enough to Bellamy and Bellamy completely trusts him, he’s in the perfect position to hurt the rest of Spacekru because no one would expect it. Clarke, however, is an outsider. She can’t hurt ‘us’, because she’s not a part of Spacekru and he’s not gonna let her close enough to hurt them again, but he’ll still let her hurt him, because he always does.

Bellamy puts up more of a fight with Murphy, barely tries with Clarke.

He punches and yells and grunts and tries to actually kill Murphy, but he just walks towards Clarke, says some stuff, and puts up a half assed attempt at strangling her.

Murphy never hurts Bellamy, Clarke stabs him.

Like I said before, Murphy goes out of his way to restrain Bellamy without hurting him, but Clarke doesn’t even try, she just stabs him right away, even though she’s out of the psychosis, right away.

Bellamy says ‘I’ll kill you’ to Clarke but doesn’t make a move until she has Murphy.

He says it half-heartedly, but pretty much just chills on the ground until Clarke takes Murphy out the water. The sight of Murphy gets him started again. Not Clarke, Murphy.

As Bellamy gets farther gone, he gets angrier and full on chokes Clarke and tries to stab Murphy, but Murphy just holds his arms out, he doesn’t hurt him.

As time goes on, Bellamy gets farther and farther gone and he finally tries to kill Clarke and then Murphy tries to restrain him again and then Bellamy tries to stab him while choking Clarke. Still, Murphy doesn’t hurt him, he restrains him.

Clarke puts something in the air that makes them pass out. 

Bellamy was trying to choke Clarke, so they ended up near each other. Murphy was pulling Bellamy back, so he landed farther away. Not only a practical set-up, but it also shows that as long as Clarke is around, there’s gonna be a divide between Murphy and Bellamy, at least for now. That might change as time goes on, and I hope it does, but this isn’t the first time Clarke’s gotten between Bellamy and his family, his loved ones, and his happiness.

Respectful responses are welcome and appreciated! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[statsvitenskap]

BONE!

my first Ace Attorney fanfic. i'm not all that good at writing fanfiction, since i'm normally the fanart type, but i saw this video by @edenleicester, and had to try it out(i changed the characters from their video a bit though. it's more or less the same). i copied most of the dialogue from this B99 clip.

link to ao3 version here.

reblogs > likes!

September XX, 20XX

XX:XX p.m.

Los Angeles Prosecutor’s Office

Klavier Gavin stood in the hallway of the Prosecutor’s Office. He and defense attorney, Apollo Justice, chatted while sipping from their drinks of choice. All was going well that day; Apollo had won his latest trial and Klavier had met another cute girl, much to Apollo’s dismay.

“Gavin,” he hissed, how do you know she's the one for you? She's probably just using you for your fame or something-”

“Nonsense, Herr Forehead!” Klavier smiled. “She's different from the others. I can tell… from her eyes.” The man's eyes went distant, as if seeing the girl in front of him then. Apollo rolled his eyes and looked away, only to choke on his water.

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth were walking into the Prosecutor’s Office, arguing like their lives depended on it. Having spotted the men first, Apollo quickly turned away, scared for his own life. Klavier, on the other hand, smirked, knowing the younger man was scared of Miles Edgeworth, or at the very least, the prosecutor's skills. He quickly grabbed Justice's shoulder and pulled him back to where he had been standing originally. “Herr Edgeworth, Herr Wright! Guten tag! How is the lovely couple today?”

Miles Edgeworth went the slightest shade of pink at the mention of him and Wright as a couple. The poor man still wasn't used to the fact that he was Phoenix Wright’s boyfriend. However, he quickly regained his composure.

“We would actually appreciate a bit of insight from you two,” Edgeworth replied. He glared at Phoenix. “Wright and I seem to be in a bit of a…” He paused. “...predicament.”

Phoenix scoffed. “More like a fight,” earning a glare from the man beside him.

Klavier's eyes widened. When he'd wanted to mess with Apollo, he hadn't wanted to mess with his boss's relationship in the process. Apollo was standing beside him, sweating nervously. Klavier glanced at him for help, earning only a glare. “I'm sorry, sir, but we wouldn't want to get involved in your personal life-”

Edgeworth rolled his eyes. “It isn't personal, it's a math problem.”

Apollo let out a series of frightened stutters while Klavier cringed. “Even worse.”

Phoenix sighed, using his free hand to massage his forehead in frustration. “Last night, Edgeworth and I had dinner together for the first time in two weeks, thanks to the cases that have been keeping us on our toes.”

“And someone thought it would be fun to spoil our date with an inane math problem,” Edgeworth interrupted, glaring at his spiky-haired partner. “to which his answer is wrong.”

“Enough foreplay, let's get to the numbers,” Apollo interrupted. Suddenly, when Klavier looked over at him, he had a notepad and pencil in hand.

“It's called the Monty Hall problem,” Edgeworth began. “Imagine you're on a game show. There are three doors, behind one of which is a car.”

Phoenix continues, “You pick a door. The host, who knows which door the car is behind, opens a different door, showing that there is nothing behind it. The host then asks if you'd like to choose another, unopened door. Should you do it?”

“No!” Edgeworth finishes.

“Yes!”

“It's simple math!” They both say at the same time.

“It doesn't make any sense to switch,” says Edgeworth. “The prize is now behind one of two doors, it's a 50/50 chance either way.”

“It's two thirds if you switch, one third if you don't. The probability locks in when you switch,” Phoenix retaliates. “We've been over this eight times!”

“Seven,” Edgeworth corrects him. “It's only been seven times. Now you can't even do simple addition.”

“Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth,” Apollo looks up from his calculations on his notepad. “but I think Mr. Wright is… well, right.”

Phoenix snickers at the pun, while Edgeworth glares at Apollo, causing the younger man to cower under the eyes of his superior. He quickly turns around, and walks out of the office. The other three men watch as he drives away.

“Wait… he was my ride!” Phoenix runs out of the office, yelling at the red sports car now far off in the distance.

Klavier grins. “That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, wasn't it, Herr Forehead?”

Apollo rolls his eyes and walks away to get more water.

The next day, Apollo and Klavier stood in the lobby, once again chatting. Both men had more or less forgotten about the incident of the day before. Edgeworth walked into the office alone this time, prompting a greeting from Apollo. “Good morning, Mr. Edgeworth.”

“No, it's not.” Apollo and Klavier looked at the older man in confusion. “I haven't slept because of that idiotic math problem. Now I finally understand Wright's side.”

“Ah, I see!” Klavier grinned. “So it's all better and we never have to hear about math again?” Klavier seemed to have a hatred for math that Apollo didn't quite understand.

“Quite the opposite, actually. Now, I see more than ever how incorrect he is.” Edgeworth smirked, recalling the previous night's events. (“Do I have to teach you 8th grade statistics?” “Do I have to teach you 7th grade statistics?” “Do I have to teach you-”)

The two younger men traded expressions, while Edgeworth finished, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to leave Wright a snide voicemail about teaching him kindergarten statistics.”

As Edgeworth walked away, Apollo and Klavier glanced at each other, confused. Finally Apollo shrugged. “Well, at least I didn't piss him off that time.”

“Honestly, those two just need to bone.” Klavier said to no one in particular.

“Gavin!” Apollo made a face. “That is your boss!” Klavier shrugged, smiled, and sipped at his water.

Edgeworth walked into the office the next day, only to find Apollo Justice under a table.

“Mr. Justice,” Edgeworth began, “may I ask why exactly you are… underneath a table?”

“I can't seem to find my bracelet, sir,” he replied.

Edgeworth cocked an eyebrow. “Have you seen where it went?”

“Actually,” Apollo came out from underneath the piece of furniture, holding a small diorama depicting three doors. “I think it's behind one of these doors. Why don't you pick one?” He asked, gesturing at the mini doors.

Edgeworth raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “Mr. Justice, I would rather not bring this Monty Hall problem from my personal life into my work life as well. At this rate, the Monty Hall problem will take over my life in little to no time at all!” Apollo flinched and grinned awkwardly, scratching his neck.

Behind Apollo, Klavier sighed. “The math isn't the problem sir. These cases are keeping you and Wright apart. You two just need to bone.”

Apollo let out a scared whimper, and Edgeworth gave Klavier a look that left Apollo sweating, even though the look was not directed at him. “What did you say?”

“Don't say it again,” Apollo whispered, loud enough for only Klavier to hear.

Klavier smirked. “I said,” he raised his voice just barely, “you two need to bone.” Apollo flinched, and the look from Edgeworth escalated to a dark glare.

“How dare you, Prosecutor Gavin-” Edgeworth's voice raised with every word he spoke- “I am your superior prosecutor!”

With that, the man launched into a frenzy of scolding. He paced the room, later walking over to the hallway gripping the edges, and yelling, “BONE!” each time, with increasing intensity.

Nearly ten minutes later, Apollo and Klavier stood face-to-face, Edgeworth scolding the two with a dark red blush.

“What happens in my bedroom, Prosecutor Gavin, is none of your business!”

Another ten minutes later, he began yelling “BONE!” even louder than before. All the while, Apollo whimpered and curled into himself on the couch. Klavier tried to comfort him by wrapping an arm around him, though he couldn't seem to wipe that smirk off his face.

In the end, after a long time of shouting, scolding, and wildly gesticulating at the doorway, Edgeworth finally left Klavier and Apollo, Apollo’s face down on the coffee table in front of him. “Don't ever speak to me like that again.” He finished and left.

After the Chief Prosecutor had left the lobby, Apollo looked up at Klavier, hands shaking. “Your boss is so scary…”

Klavier chuckled, one hand on the other man's back. “Don't worry. He's much nicer once you get to know him.”

“Why did you do that, anyways?” Apollo whispered, leaning against Klavier.

“Herr Edgeworth was pent up. Now he knows,” Klavier grinned. “Maybe he'll actually do something about it this time around.”

Apollo sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Good afternoon, Herr Edgeworth!” Klavier grinned at the Chief Prosecutor entering the office.

Apollo sipped his water. “You're unusually late, sir. By the way, I contacted a math professor about the Monty Hall problem-”

“No need.” Edgeworth held up a hand, almost shooing the younger man away.

“You solved the problem?”

“No.”

The younger men glanced at each other from across the room. Apollo began blushing a deep red when Klavier began to ask-

“So you two-”

“Yes,” Edgeworth replied quickly and began his trek up the stairs.

Klavier grinned at the other man from across the room. A silence overcame the room until-

“Our bosses had se-”

“Shut up!”

[youleftme-clarke]

I’ll Give You That

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/M Fandom: The 100 (TV) Relationship: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Fluff and Smut Shameless Smut First Time Friends to Lovers Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Roommates Cunnilingus Vaginal Fingering Dirty Talk Praise Kink Words: 6,726

a/n: when i die and reach the gates of heaven, this fic will be cited as the reason I don’t get in.

Summary: Clarke wants to know what sex is like. Bellamy offers to show her. Feelings happen.I'm bad at summaries but this is super soft/mildly praise-kinky Bellarke PWP. The dirty talk is very real. It's also the filthiest thing I've ever written, so there's that.

She turns to face him once she’s inside her room, and he has to pause to take in his surroundings. Her lights are off, the room aglow in soft yellow light from the strings of fairy lights she has on her headboard and all over her bookcases and desk. It’s almost… romantic. “So, how do you want to--” she starts, but isn’t sure how to phrase her question. Bellamy reaches out and runs his fingers down her bare arm. He doesn’t miss how she shivers. “Clarke, just relax, okay?” he twines his fingers through hers. “You want this to be good, right?”

[read on ao3]

Clarke takes a drink of her rum and Coke as Jasper thinks about his question. They’re sitting around the living she shares with Bellamy playing a game of Never Have I Ever as though they’re all a bunch of teenagers and not professional adults in their mid-twenties. It’s Friday night and Clarke and Bellamy’s turn to host game night which always turns into some kind of drinking game early enough in the evening. It’s hardly even nine and Bellamy’s already feeling the steady thrum of alcohol in his veins.

“Never have I ever done molly,” Jasper finally settles on.

Everyone chances a look around the circle, but to their general surprise, it’s Monty that drinks first. “What!” he says defensively. “I was young once!”

“That is the lamest excuse. What happened to being peer pressured into doing drugs like they always told us was going to happen?” Clarke asks, and Bellamy casts his eyes over to her, noticing the light flush that is making its way up her chest as she drinks more.

“People realized that drugs are expensive and stopped giving theirs away for free?” Miller grumbles.

The entire gang has somehow managed to fit into the less than spacious room. Miller and Jackson are lounging on the couch with Raven and Zeke at the other end, Harper sits in Monty’s lap on Bellamy’s armchair, Niylah has Octavia between her legs on the floor so she can braid the brunette’s hair, Clarke’s lounging against the sofa, leaning against Miller’s legs while Jasper and Maya rest with their backs to the half-wall separating the living room from the kitchen. Bellamy’s against the opposite end of the couch from Clarke, knowing how he tends to become more affectionate as he drinks. It’s best to keep his distance.

“Your turn, Reyes,” Jasper prompts.

“Never have I ever slept with a woman,” she says with a grin at her boyfriend.

Bellamy laughs. It wouldn’t be any kind of game night if some part of it didn’t turn sexual. Jackson and Miller whoop and turn to look pointedly to look at Bellamy who rolls his eyes and drinks. A lot. It’s only fair, considering the amount of women he’s slept with. Clarke drinks, along with O and Niylah, Monty, Jasper, and Zeke.

“Let’s go, Clarke,” Raven says. “Hit us with your best shot.”

Clarke stops to think, and Bellamy tries not to stare, but everyone else looks at her expectantly, so he lets his eyes linger just a little longer.

“Never have I ever had sex with penetration,” Clarke says with a quirk of her eyebrow.

Bellamy chokes. The last thing he needs is to imagine Clarke having any kind of sex.

“Griffin!” Raven gasps. “ Any penetration?”

“Nope! I’ve always been, I dunno, too nervous? Finn didn’t care as long as he got off, and Lexa was just always focused on my clit.” She shrugs. “Anyway, everyone drink.” And they do.

“Damn,” Raven says before taking a swig of her beer. “You’re kinda missing out. It’s not all about penetration, but… damn…”

It’s nearly midnight by the time everyone leaves, and the alcohol’s all but made its way out of Bellamy’s system. He grabs the empty bowl of chips and dips from the living room table and brings them in to the kitchen where Clarke is doing the last of the dishes.

“Have fun?” he asks her as he wraps up what’s left of the vegetable tray Raven and Zeke had brought.

“Yeah,” she says with a smile, and damn if it doesn’t made his stomach twist to see her so happy. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Her brows are drawn together in question and she suddenly looks nervous.

“Sure.”

“What’s it like?” she asks quizzically.

“What’s what like?” he asks, drawing a blank.

“You know, like, real sex?”

Bellamy huffs out a laugh. “You’ve had real sex. You tell me.”

“No,” she shakes her head, her lips pursed. “Not like--you know, real sex.”

“Clarke,” he says sternly. “Penetration doesn’t make sex any more or less real.”

She sighs, frustrated. “You know what I’m trying to say.”

And for the first time, he notices the blush creeping its way up her cheeks.

“It’s not…” he searches for the right thing to say, but then she looks at him and bites her lip and the words are out of his mouth before he even stops to think about the implications of what he’s offering. “Did you want me to show you?”

She looks at him and he watches her swallow, look him over as though she’s waiting for him to take it back. When, for some stupid reason or other, he doesn’t, she nods.

“Can I--Can you just give me some time to get ready?” she asks quietly.

“Clarke, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I was just--” he hurries to reassure her, but she cuts him off.

“No, I kinda--I want to. I just need some time. Is that okay?”

She’s so soft and quiet that he wants to just hold her and tell her that she doesn’t need to feel any of the anxiety that she’s feeling, that he’ll take care of her if she wants him to, and if she wants to stop, he’ll stop the second he gets an ounce of hesitation. Instead, he tells her that he’s going to his room and he’ll read a book until she tells him that she’s ready.

“Thanks, Bell. For, you know, for offering, and for being cool about it.”

He swallows and kisses her hair. “Of course. What are friends for?”

He’s hardly read two pages in the entire time it took her to finish tidying the kitchen, shower, and get dressed. He paces his room nervously, because of course he wants this, but there’s no way it means the same thing for him as it does for Clarke. He’s been in love with her for months, and she just wants to experience something because she’s curious. Finally, she pokes her head into his room and he has to face the music.

“Your offer still stands?” she asks, her nerves showing through her easy smile.

“Ready when you are.”

“Do you mind if we do this in my room?” she asks, and she almost sounds clinical about it.

He nods and follows her, trying not to stare at her ass as she makes her way down the hall. She’s wearing cotton pyjama pants with cartoon rabbits on them and a tank top that makes it obvious that she’s not wearing a bra.

She turns to face him once she’s inside her room, and he has to pause to take in his surroundings. Her lights are off, the room aglow in soft yellow light from the strings of fairy lights she has on her headboard and all over her bookcases and desk. It’s almost… romantic.

“So, how do you want to--” she starts, but isn’t sure how to phrase her question.

Bellamy reaches out and runs his fingers down her bare arm. He doesn’t miss how she shivers. “Clarke, just relax, okay?” he twines his fingers through hers. “You want this to be good, right?” As he talks, he walks her back to her bed and crowds into her space when the backs of her thighs hit her mattress. Clarke can only swallow and nod. “You tell me if you change your mind at any point, but I’ve got you, Clarke. Just let me… fuck, let me…”

She saves him from saying anything more, anything he probably shouldn’t say right at this moment by taking his hand and placing it on her hip. His fingers slip under the worn fabric of her tank, and she closes her eyes at the contact. Bellamy’s index teases the waistband of her pants, and he swears she becomes less steady on her feet, swaying towards him.

“Lie down,” he commands softly, brushing the back of his fingers over her stomach.

[read the rest on ao3]

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 34: Tʜᴇ Iʟʟᴜsɪᴏɴ Oғ Sᴀғᴇᴛʏ

Masterlist

Episodes: Fog Of War; Long Into An Abyss

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for. 

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jasper, Monty and I followed Maya from the room in a nervous silence. She led us through multiple doors until we finally reached a small maintenance room where she abruptly stopped and turned sharply around to face us.

“We don’t have much time but we can talk freely here.” She explained as she addressed the boys, then seemed to suddenly remember that I was there and regarded me with a scrutinising expression. “Who is this?” She asked in a low, accusing tone and I raised a brow at her. 

“This is Indigo, she’s family. You can trust her.” Monty answered in an unimpressed manner as he protectively stepped closer to my side and levelled her with a glare that warned her not to push the matter.

“What the hell is going on?” Jasper blurted with pent up frustration that was clear in his body language and she glanced down at the floor with a gentle sniff that indicated she was struggling to contain tears. “Maya?” He spoke in a gentler tone as he studied her with concern and my stomach twisted. I wasn’t sure that I trusted the people here and it was uncomfortable for me to witness Jasper becoming so attached to one of them. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered as she viewed him through watery eyes and her bottom lip trembled.

“About what? What do you mean it wasn’t an accident?” Jasper enquired and his tone revealed that he clearly had no suspicions about her at all. I could feel dread building in my stomach as I peeked at Monty who was equally bewildered by Jasper’s naivety and I prepared myself for an argument.

“She means they exposed her to radiation on purpose.” Monty spat and I was stunned to find that he lost his patience first. In that moment I became aware of the similarities in our bonds with our adopted siblings and was proud to find that his annoyance with Jasper’s growing romance was abundantly clear in his tone and body language. “I’m betting it was to get you to be her blood brother.” He announced and crossed his arms as he spoke. Maya nodded regretfully in response and Monty’s tone grew sharper at her confirmation. “I knew it, Clarke was right.” He growled and I raised my brows. I had never seen aggression in him before and it was interesting to observe in someone so relaxed.

“Monty, be quiet.” Jasper instructed firmly before he turned back to Maya with an openly hurt expression. “Did you know about this?” He asked with his voice revealing how awful he felt about the accusation. She shook her head and I continued to view her with suspicion. “And why would they do that to you?” He probed and I found myself disappointed that his usually intelligent nature had been overshadowed by his attraction to her.

“They needed a test subject and they saw that you two were getting along. Isn’t that right?” My voice came out more accusingly than I intended as I crossed my arms at her.

 “Yes, they thought they could use me to sway you.” She admitted and I growled under my breath. I was furious that anyone would try to manipulate Jasper and felt me defensiveness bubbling in my stomach. “They wanted to see what difference your blood would make and honestly, the standard treatment sucks compared to you.” She replied, shifting uncomfortably on the spot as she explained.

“That’s what Dante said.” Jasper murmured as if he was finally catching up to us and I noted that Dante had discussed this idea with Jasper already.

“What’s the standard treatment?” Monty enquired with his usual perceptiveness and I waited for an answer with interest.

“Through there.” She whispered and pointed behind her without being able to look at us.

I glanced at the boys as I felt nerves fluttering across my chest and was fearful about what was about to be revealed to us. She visibly had to force herself to move as she stepped out of sight and we followed in a small anxious huddle. She stopped near a large air vent and stood to one side to allow us to walk ahead. We approached the vent in tense suspension and as we leaned forward to open the slats, I felt my stomach lurch. The large chamber through the vent was filled with copious amounts of people, contained in tiny cages like animals. The space was around ten floors and had numerous alcoves that were all crammed full with captives. Some cages even hung suspended from the ceiling and the structures were too small to comfortably contain their occupants. I stared in stunned silence, unable to form a single word.

“Oh my god...are those...all grounders?” Jasper whispered as he studied the nauseating sight in total horror. I noticed that his hands shook where he gripped the vent and I could feel the shock radiating from him in waves.

“I guess we weren’t the only people they recovered from the fight at camp...we just got the comfortable accommodations.” I commented as I surveyed the grounders. We had been at war with them barely days ago and yet I couldn’t deny that I pitied them now. I was hardly able to believe what I was seeing, despite my distrust of the people here.

“Wait a second.” Monty’s voice became calm and analytical again and he managed to draw my attention back. “Why are you showing us this?” He interrogated as he turned to consider Maya as he spoke.

“Because I’m afraid.” She admitted and knitted her hands together in a gesture that made me nervous.

“Of what?” Jasper questioned as he glanced over his shoulder and furrowed his brows in concern. I swallowed my impatience at his continued infatuation with her. 

“That you’re next.” She confessed, choking up as she spoke and her body language radiated guilt as she glimpsed each of us in turn. I felt my heart skip a beat at her words and my mind raced with the new information. Although I’d been feeling apprehensive about this place since I first woke here, I couldn’t have imagined that a threat this depraved was lurking behind the allure of the food and safety. Everyone here was well practised in the act of behaving as if the mountain was a paradise and I was disgusted to discover the truth.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I groaned as I covered my face with my hands. “We survive war with the grounders just to end up in a blood factory.” I stated with bitterness and Monty placed a gentle hand on my shoulder to settle my dissolving form. Jasper turned fully on the spot to confront Maya and I was glad to finally witness a firmness in his tone.

“Who else knows about this?” He investigated accusingly as he pointed back at the grate in annoyance. His shoulders raised with tension and the sympathy in his eyes was gradually fading to anger.

“Everyone, but nobody talks about it.” She confirmed weakly and her posture became defensive, childish even. “We learn not to ask questions.” She justified as she scanned us guiltily and I scoffed. The tone of her voice implied that they were simply bystanders in this situation and her lack of responsibility grated on me.

“Great, we’re surrounded by sociopaths who are willing to sacrifice people for their own gain.” I growled as I uncovered my face and threw my arms up in exasperation. Maya dropped her gaze to avoid my glaring expression and I rolled my eyes.

“Look, without the treatments we’d die.” She stepped closer to Jasper as she tried to justify her words. I peeked at him to check that he wasn’t falling back under her spell and was relieved to find that he remained tense. “What are we supposed to do?” She muttered with furrowed brows and I observed Jasper crossing his arms sharply.

“Die.” Monty spat as he fixed her with a furious glare and I nodded in agreement. I found that I was glad to have him beside me and even though it was unusual to see him behave this way, I was glad of his backup. “We have to get out of here. Dante said we could leave right?” He turned his determined attention to Jasper and assessed him with desperate eyes.

“He was lying.” Jasper scoffed as he shuffled on the spot and it was clear that the realisation was crushing him. “He knows I’d be too scared to leave, just like he knew I’d do what had to be done to save Maya.” He remarked with a tone that betrayed the hurt in his voice. I squeezed his arm to bring his eyes to me and smiled sympathetically. 

“He made a mistake taking advantage of your kindness.” I stated firmly as I addressed him with a stubborn confidence that I hoped would reach him. “He didn’t account for how heroic and intelligent you are. We’re a hell of a family of survivors, we can figure this out.” I elaborated as I smiled at both of them encouragingly, despite the dread in my chest. There were a few moments of silence as they absorbed my words and I could tell that they were wracking their bright minds for ideas.

“We don’t ask, if Clarke got out, we can too.” Monty asserted as he stepped closer into our tightly knit circle with a new found confidence.

“You’ll never make it.” Maya offered from behind and I noticed that Monty rolled his eyes at the sound of her voice. “Ever since Clarke disappeared security all around the mountain has been increased.” She confirmed with a fearful voice and I hissed under my breath. I wasn’t surprised to find that Clarke was an inconvenience even when she wasn’t present. 

“We have to try.” Monty argued with a fire that I’d never seen in him before now. I opened my mouth to try to interject but Jasper spoke firmly in response.

“We’re not leaving. I won't leave the others behind.” He exclaimed before softening his expression and pointing to the grate. “That means they end up in there.” He commented with a forlorn stare and I sighed regretfully. He was right, if we broke out with just our small family we would be condemning the others to a death. The invasive image of our people filling the inhumane cages crossed my mind and I violently forced it out with a wave of disgust.

“What choice do we have?!” Monty responded with a desperation that mirrored how I felt. 

“I don’t want to leave them behind either.” I confirmed as Monty met my eyes with a mournful face. “But Monty’s right, we haven’t got many options.” I sighed and noticed that now Jasper was studying me with an unimpressed expression. “Clarke’s out there and I doubt that she’s just sitting on her ass. She’ll be searching for help.” I suggested and they both shrugged at my words. “We need to get out, find her and bring back as big a force as we can. It’s the only way we can save them.” I presented my case and waited with anticipation for their opinions.

“It’s too risky. They could kill them all whilst we’re gone. Besides, how would we even find Clarke? Or anyone else to fight with us?” Jasper pointed out and I felt my shoulders drop with disappointment. There were more pitfalls in this plan than I’d realised and although I wanted to believe it was possible, I understood that our decisions carried more importance in this moment than ever before. Jasper took a deep breath and gulped. “There’s only one thing to do, we volunteer.” He declared as both Monty and I jolted into rigid postures at his words.

“Are you insane?” I hissed as I scrutinised him in disbelief. “You want us to just hand ourselves over to them?” I repeated as if I had misheard him. 

“We haven’t got any other choice! It’s the only way to keep us alive, safe, fed and to buy us some time.” Jasper cried with a desperation that was shared between us. “If you really believe that Clarke is out there trying to rescue us, we need all the time that we can get.” Jasper appealed to me and I couldn’t think of any plausible options to challenge this with. I peeked at Monty for alternatives but he reflected the same defeat that I felt.

“For the record, I hate this.” I muttered bitterly.

***

When we returned to the dorms Jasper set straight to work arranging volunteers. He took Harper and Miller to a quiet corner of the room beside the blaring radio and explained the situation. They reluctantly agreed to his insane plan once he expressed that we needed to buy time and I offered to volunteer too. Jasper refused to allow me to join them and instead requested that I act as a guard for the rest of the group whilst they were incapacitated. I was frustrated by this, as I felt a desperate desire to keep the boys in my sights at all times, especially now that I knew what the people here had planned for us. I bitterly accepted that the others required protection and that their ignorance would leave them vulnerable. 

I begrudgingly settled on the bed as they left to volunteer and found myself in a constant state of tension the entire time that they were gone. I attended all of the set meal times so that I could ensure the group remained under observation, but I was unable to bring myself to eat. Instead I picked around plates of food and drank copious amounts of tea in an attempt to stay alert. The night was terrible as I kept watch as much as possible, only occasionally drifting to sleep to be haunted by visions of the boys strung up like blood bags. I heard Bellamy’s voice in my dreams, yelling in frustration at the mess that we’d found ourselves in. Whenever I bolted awake again I couldn’t shake the feeling that my imagination wasn’t wrong. I felt in my core that Bellamy would suggest a more aggressive plan, that he would bust us out of here and I spent much of the night racking my brain for alternative ideas.

By the time the group returned from their procedures I was manic and immediately took both Monty and Jasper into my arms, squeezing them tightly for reassurance. They allowed me to comfort myself with them before Monty led me to sit with Harper and Miller on the bunk beds. Jasper subtly turned up the radio on his way over to mask our conversation. 

“Okay, it’s safe to talk.” Jasper nodded as he settled into position beside me. “We bought ourselves some time but we’re gonna need to recruit some more of the others, only people we trust.” He reported as we all leaned in to listen closely.

I nodded in agreement, glancing around at the relaxed faces in the room. I wasn’t sure how many people remained that I trusted and I couldn’t help feeling envious of their blissfully simple existence. It seemed the five of us had become the new leadership now and I resented being a part of it. I had never desired to lead and although I was always comfortable to share my opinion, I had been content to leave the decision making to others.

“How much more time are we talking about buying here?” Miller grilled as he surveyed the room and from his expression I could imagine that he was having the same concerns. I didn’t even recognise many faces from Bellamy’s militia, which I understood to be Miller’s main confidants. The people here were mostly background parts of camp and I was unsure how much they would be willing to do.

“Long enough for Clarke to break us out.” Monty confirmed confidently and I snapped my gaze to him. I was surprised to find that he believed in my theory until he peeked subtly at me with a wink. I smiled at him and was glad to find that we were on the same page.

“We don’t even know if Clarke’s still alive.” Harper declared as she wrung her hands in worry. 

“It’s Clarke, she’s too stubborn to die.” I commented with a hint of amusement. I leaned slightly forward to catch Harper’s gaze with a supportive smile. “She visited me whilst I was in quarantine. She told me that she thinks there are others alive out there and that she wanted to find them. I know she’ll be out there finding help right now, whatever form it may be in.” I elaborated with certainty and I noted that the others seemed to be intrigued by this revelation.

“She has to be.” Jasper sighed thoughtfully and I nudged him gently. He squinted at me and I smiled as I placed a comforting hand on his arm. I couldn’t stand seeing him look defeated and he’d been moping around in this manner since Maya’s reveal. It was clear that he had genuinely believed in the safety of this place and it was saddening to see his hope crushed.

“Well then she better hurry the hell up.” Miller commented aggressively and the others all stared at the ground with uncertain expressions.

I sighed as I pondered their worried faces. Although we were all straining to inspire each other, none of us had been a part of the leadership in camp and it was clear that nobody wanted that responsibility now. I’d witness the stress that it had caused Bellamy and I dreaded watching any more of my loved ones crushed under it. I took a deep breath and decided to take as much of it as I could for them. 

“I’m sure she’s doing everything that she can out there, so for now we need to do the same in here. Reach out to those you trust, get them onside. The more people we can get to volunteer now, the more we can inspire to volunteer without having to tell them what’s going on. We don’t want to cause a panic. We need to focus on being model citizens; involve yourselves in as much as possible, show your skills and make us indispensable.” I spoke firmly as I gave my best attempt at the kind of inspiring talk that Bellamy often presented in camp. I didn’t have the same undeniable natural charisma that he exuded, but the group seemed to be absorbing my words. “For now, everyone recruit one person you trust and that will fill the bay with volunteers tonight. After that we’ll see what happens naturally, it might be enough.” I ordered and they nodded with an enthusiasm that had been absent before.

We dispersed from our small huddle and each searched for someone to convince. I guided Fox to a quiet area and felt confident that I could trust her due after our history in camp. I quietly explained the situation and although she was fearful, she trusted me to make the best choice for our people. I returned to the group and confirmed that I had sourced a volunteer. The others put forward the names of their candidates and Harper shuffled awkwardly on the spot when it came to her turn. 

“I couldn’t find anyone I trusted enough to tell, I’m sorry.” She whispered as she avoided meeting eyes with any of us. I cleared my throat to prompt her to bring her face up. 

“Well I haven’t volunteered yet. It looks like it’s my turn.” I remarked and smiled at her encouragingly. 

“Are you sure you’re up to that Indie?” Jasper interrogated as he viewed me with concern. He scanned me closely and I could tell that he was reluctant about the suggestion.

“I’m fine, I need to do my part.” I asserted. Before he could argue, I picked up the sign up sheet and added my name to it. “Let’s get this done.” I confirmed as Jasper and Monty glimpsed between each other worriedly.

***

As I laid in the bed of the medical unit with doctors fussing over us, I started to become nervous. A pretty female doctor with dark hair checked my vitals before inserting a large needle into my neck. I hissed in pain and she flinched apologetically at me, before leaning over to the bed beside me to prepare the person that I would be transfusing to. Once she’d finished connecting all the leads she returned to my side. 

“Alright, we’ll administer general anaesthetic. You won’t feel a thing.” She smiled at me encouragingly and I couldn’t hide the feeling of reluctance that flooded my face at the idea of medication.

“Will it make me sleep?” I asked in a small, fearful voice as my stomach twisted in dread. Although I was more than willing to assist in this plan, I hadn’t been prepared to be drugged again and I wasn’t sure that I could survive another round of the horrors that lurked in the back of my mind. She was momentarily confused, before her faze landed on my wrists and understanding dawned on her pitying face. 

“It wont, but we gave the others a mild sedative to help them to relax.” She explained and I felt uncomfortable with the concept that we were all vulnerable here. “I can withhold that if you would like? But it’s a long process without.” She advised and she observed my reactions closely as she spoke.

“I don't want to sleep, I’ll wait it out.” I answered and shook my head firmly. She sighed as she considered me. 

“Indigo, you know that you’re safe with us, don’t you? You don’t need to be guarded.” She suggested as she settled a comforting hand on my arm and I had to control my immediate reaction to recoil from her touch. I struggled to keep the annoyance from my face as I processed her words. It felt like a kick in the teeth to hear the staff reassuring us and comforting us when they all knew what they were keeping us here for. I forced myself to smile calmly in response and took a slow, steadying breath before I spoke again. 

“I’m not guarded, I have nightmares. I can’t forget the things I saw before here.” I justified in the hope that this would seem less suspicious. Although I was honest about the reason that I didn’t want to sleep, I couldn’t deny that I was also afraid to be administered something that would reduce my ability to fight if needed. She watched me with pity and I squirmed in an effort to contain my disgust. 

“Okay, no sedative. Just let us know if you need anything or change your mind. We’ll give you a dose of pain relief just in case.” She smiled in an understanding that felt inauthentic before walking over to a nurse who connected a bag of medication to the drip stand and connected me to it.

After a few minutes I could feel the effects of the pain relief and I felt more relaxed than I had in months. I realised that my anxiety was calmer and the heartbreak didn’t feel as crushing anymore. I leaned my head back into the pillows and felt as if my whole body had become heavier all of a sudden. I stared at the ceiling and as my mind eased, Bellamy’s face filled my consciousness. Before I could put up my internal defences to protect myself from the pain, the memories flashed through rapidly. I was forced to reflect on every moment that I had spent with him, but it didn’t trigger the same desperate feeling as usual. 

I remembered seeing him for the first time in the dropship when we landed on Earth. He was clean with neatly combed back hair and his clothes were only as faded as was normal on the Ark. I could still clearly picture the way that he smiled when he saw Octavia; his eyes still sparkled with hope and joy. I recounted the smug expression that he had when he looked me up and down as I introduced myself with a fizzle of excitement. I played everything back from the beginning and realised how vastly different things were between us from the early days where we argued constantly; I strived to get under his skin and he hid behind skeevy compliments. 

In our last days together we seemed to have reached a peace that neither of us had acknowledged, content to simply enjoy each other's presence. I could still feel the tension in every time we’d touched, clinging to one another in moments of panic, both searching each other out for comfort in the aftermath. I felt a wave of painful regret as I visualised every chance for it to become something more between us that I had missed. It felt like a cruel fate that I only understood the depth of my feelings for him now that he was gone and I started to become aware of the gaping hole in my chest that I’d felt almost constantly since the last time I saw him. 

It wasn’t just Bellamy that was missing from my life; it was Octavia and Raven; it was the home that we’d all built together; it was the leaders that, although troubled people that I didn’t always agree with, kept us safe and banded together even in times of crisis. It was the unity of our camp that didn’t seem the same in our underground prison. The realisation struck that I would likely never be able to fill the hole that their absence left in me. I would likely have this wound forever and if I was going to survive, I’d have to start learning to live with it. As unfortunate as this thought was, I knew in my gut that I couldn’t avoid sleep forever.

I considered the way that I had felt in the white room of quarantine and the drastic actions that I’d taken. Now that the mania I’d experienced during the inescapable times of sedation had passed, I understood that I didn’t truly want to die. Although I felt a constant emptiness that made me question the point in fighting on, the threat of our containment here gave me the powerful sensation that I wasn’t finished yet. I still had people to protect and the loss of Bellamy as a leader had left behind a responsibility that I couldn’t abandon. I hoped that in time I’d find a way to stop the torment of my memories, but for now I would settle for only sleeping as often as needed to survive and denying any triggering thoughts of the Blake siblings. I relied on my bond with Jasper and Monty to give me purpose and that minimised the grief to a size that I could still live with.

When the painkillers finally wore off, I was relieved to be free from the reflection that they’d caused. I was violently sick for several hours following the completion of the transfusion, whilst the patient I’d assisted seemed to be in the best shape of their life. Fox and I were the first to be released and supported each other on the shaky walk back to dorms. Although I still felt nauseous, I was keen to be out of their blatant observation and with people I could trust again. I entered the dorms to find Miller and Monty talking in low voices on one of the bunks and approached to see that they were studying some kind of schematics. 

“Looks like I missed something interesting?” I asked as I arched a brow at them inquisitively. Miller abruptly left when he noticed me and I took his space next to Monty.

“Good to have you back.” He smiled in relief as his eyes scanned me with worry. “How do you feel?” He grilled and I shrugged.

“Awful, I can’t believe that Jasper willingly put himself through this. Although by the sounds of it his treatment was even worse thanks to Maya’s radiation levels. Which honestly just makes it even more unbelievable that he came and asked us to do the same!” I rambled in a muddled mess and realised that I still felt slightly groggy from the medication. “Poor boy was super brainwashed.” I added with an understanding tone as I caught up to my own thoughts and Monty nodded in agreement. I jolted into a slightly straighter posture as a delayed thought struck me. “I was thinking about quarantine and I just remembered something.” I started and Monty’s eyes widened at the mention of this time. “There was a guy... I don’t know who he was, I was super out of it. But he was talking about my blood and how precious it is. I think...Monty I think I’m the reason that they worked out how effective our resistance to the radiation is.” I admitted with a furrowed brow and a terrible feeling of guilt.

“Your blood? But how would they..” Monty trailed off as his attention was drawn to my wrists and I shuffled to ensure they were covered. “You think that whilst they were saving your life, they took the opportunity to use you as a lab rat?” His voice dropped to a dark, disgusted tone that was alien on him and I could sense the rage that bubbled beneath his calm exterior. I nodded back regretfully and he cursed under his breath. “Indie, this isn’t your fault. They’ve been using the grounders for god knows how long, they were always going to realise that we could be viable options. It was just a matter of time.” He excused and I sighed thoughtfully.

“Maybe eventually, but thanks to me they know already. I’ve cost us time.” I stated remorsefully and he shook his head at me firmly.

“No, you’re not taking that on your shoulders, I don’t want to hear you say that ever again, alright?” He asserted and I nodded in an unconvinced gesture. “Well how about some good news?” He smiled at me with a hopeful spark in his eyes and I felt my stomach flip in anticipation. “The Ark made it! We found photos, they’ve set up camp.” He confirmed and I gasped before quickly covering my mouth. 

“Well I wasn’t expecting that, but that’s great! Now we know exactly where Clarke will be headed for help.”  I breathed as I struggled to keep my voice low in my relief.

“I don’t think we can wait for that Indie, we don’t know if Clarke will even find them.” He mumbled before his eyes glazed over and he stared off into the distance. “My parents might be there.” He spoke in a dreamy voice and I reached out to squeeze his hand.

“If they’re anything like you, I’m sure they will be. You’re a pretty hardcore survivor Monty, you must get that from somewhere.” I smiled at him encouragingly and he gripped my hand back gratefully. “So, what’s the plan?” I enquired as I assessed him with a nervous excitement buzzing in my chest.

“We broke into Dante’s office to see if we could find evidence that Clarke’s alive, that’s where we saw the photos from the Ark and where we got this…these are the engineering schematics for this whole place. We’re gonna find a way out.” Monty answered confidently and I stared back at him in bewilderment. 

“That’s a hell of a risk Monty. If they realise we’re onto them we could all end up hanging in that chamber.” I gulped as I ran my fingers through my hair in stress. “You know that I’m all for action but we’re trapped here, we’ve got a lot to lose if we get this wrong.” I confided and even as I spoke I could hear Bellamy’s voice in my mind even louder than my own. I knew that he would already be planning an offensive with no kid left behind. I felt that much of my courage and fire was dampened without him around, and I couldn’t quash my fears.

“We found proof that they’re lying to us today Indie, again. They know our people are alive and yet Dante told Jasper that the Ark hadn’t survived. How long do you think it will be before they ambush them too? And by then we could already have served our purpose.” He appealed to me and I sighed with indecision.

“Guys, Harper didn’t show for breakfast. You guys seen her?” Jasper approached with an anxious energy about him. I noticed that Miller was behaving shifty too beside him and I felt a knot forming in my stomach.

“I haven’t seen her since Dante’s office.” Milled reported and I snapped my gaze back to  Monty with wide eyes, hoping that he could confirm that she was fine. When he met my eyes with equal concern, I felt a sharp anxiety pain flit across my chest.

“So where the hell is she?” Monty asked with a panicked tone as we all stared at each other in terror.

[imagine13reasonswhy-blog]

anonymous: can i make 2 preference requests? one where they take care of you when you're sick/sad/stresses/or whatever, the other where they confess that they like you?

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Clay:

❤ You’re sleeping over at Clay’s house when you suddenly wake from a violent nightmare. Your body jerks upwards and you gasp in a breath, still not sure if you’re still in the dream. The darkened room fades in around you, and you quickly realize where you are, that you’re not still in that terrible dream, and a sob is torn from your throat in relief.

“Sweetie?” Clay groans as he too wakes up. “Are you okay?”

You can’t speak, you’re breathing and crying too hard to answer. A few nondescript noises come out, but nothing substantial.

“o-okay, it’s okay, I’m right here my love.” He sidles up closer to you and takes you in his harms, softly whispering shh in your hair. When your breathing finally regulates, you’re able to choke out the details of the dream.

“Oh, hon,” Clay pulls you tighter to him, “that’s awful. But it wasn’t real, okay? You’re safe, I’m right here to protect you, no matter what.” He gently lays you back down and continues whispering sweet affirmations in your ear until you fall back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Hannah:

❤ It’s been one of those days. One of the days when your mind has gone inexplicably silent, unwilling to feel the bad or good. Your body feels like white noise. You have gone completely numb.

Your phone dings on your bedside table, but you don’t roll over to see who is texting you. You’ve been in bed all day. You didn’t even make it to school. You simply couldn’t find the motivation.

“(Y/N)!” Your mother called from downstairs. “You have a guest!”

Moments later, footsteps pounded up the stairs and your door flew open. “(Y/N), shit,” Hannah sighs, closing the door and stepping up to the foot of your bed. “Is it bad again?”

All you can do is nod. Before you know it, Hannah has climbed into bed next to you, spooning you from behind and smoothing your hair. She presses soft, innocent kisses to the back of your neck. “I brought you something.” She mentions.

“What?” You choke out, your voice horse from hours of being unused.

“This.” She says, and wraps her arms around you in a tight embrace. You grab onto her arms, and finally emotion overtakes you. She rides it out with you, never once letting go.

Justin:

❤ “Hey, (Y/N), how about you swing by my place later tonight and we’ll share some chemistry.” Montgomery snides, snatching your chem textbook from your bag.

“Give it back, Monty.” You groan, but he holds it above your head, and he’s got at least a few inches on you.

“Montgomery!” A familiar voice booms down the hallway. You both turn around to see your boyfriend, Justin, storming towards you both. He grabs the textbook and whacks Mongomery across the shoulder with it. “Fuck off, dude, or this textbook will be somewhere else real fast.”

Montgomery raised his hands in self-defense and backed away, taking off down the hall. Justin handed you your book back and enveloped you in a hug. “I don’t get why he’s such a jackass.” He mutters. “If he tries shit with you again, he’s dead.”

Alex:

❤ You quickly pluck at the strings of your cello, trying to practice for the upcoming jazz band concert. When you get it wrong for the seventh time, you toss your sheet music to the ground in frustration. “God damn it!” You shout, burying your head in your hands.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Alex whips off his guitar and is at your side in a second, cupping your face so that you look at him.

“The seventh fucking bar, Alex. It’s just not coming out right. I’m going to let the whole band down!” You exclaim, your throat tightening.

“Hey, no. Don’t talk like that. You just need to slow it down a bit, okay?” He says softly, collecting your music off of the ground. He gives you a chaste kiss before replacing the music on the stand. “You can do this. I believe in you. We can do it together, okay?” He puts his guitar back on, and you resume your position with your cello. “And, one, two, three, four...”

Jessica:

❤ “Holy shit, are you okay?” Someone cries. You open your eyes to see a gaggle of concerned cheerleaders hovering above you. Jenny drops to her knees beside you, helping you sit up. “(Y/N), I am so, so sorry I dropped you. It was a complete accident, I swear.”

“What the hell happened?!” A shrill voice calls out across the gym. The circle of cheerleaders parted and you saw your girlfriend Jessica rushing towards you. Jenny moved out of the way and Jessica took her spot, pulling you up onto her lap, supporting your head in the crook of her arm.

“Jenny accidentally dropped (Y/N) during a stunt.” Someone explains. 

Jessica brushes your hair out of your face. “Holy hell. Are you okay?” You can tell she’s beginning to freak out.

“I think so.” You reply. “It was just a little fall, nothing serious.”

“You could have gotten seriously hurt!” Jessica exclaims. “If something ever happened to you... I just- I don’t even want to think about it.” She shakes her head.

“Well, you don’t have to.” You cup her face in your hand. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, but she kisses you before helping you up anyways.

Zach:

❤ Its late at night, and you’re knocking on Zach’s door. He answers in his pyjamas, hair mussed, sleep in his eyes. Nevertheless, he looks happy to see you.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” 

“I- can I sleep here tonight?” You ask in a weepy voice. “Things at home aren’t... aren’t great.”

His expression turns from one of sleepy contentment to alert worry. “Of course, shit, come in.” He opens the door wider and guides you into his living room with a hand on the small of your back. You two settle on the couch cuddle in, not even bothering to turn on the light. Before you fall asleep, you hear him whisper something.

“You always have a family with me, baby.”

Tony:

❤ As you exit the doors to leave school, you see it. The iconic red mustang. Shit. You had made a point of avoiding you boyfriend all day, as you knew he didn’t approve of you coming to school sick. But it was too late, he had seen you and was now marching towards you.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” He asks you, pushing his sunglasses atop his head to look you in the eye.

“I’m sorry babe, but I didn’t have a choice. I had a French test today.” You shiver, but towards the end of your sentence a coughing fit overtakes you.

“Okay, that’s it.” Tony pulls off his leather jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, leading you to his car. “I’m taking you home to my place. I’ll make you up a bath, and ask my mom to make a batch of her chicken soup.”

“I’m fine, really.” You try to explain as he buckles you into the passenger seat.

“Mi amour, let me take care of you.” He runs a hand down the side of your head, smoothing your hair, and kisses your forehead. He quickly pulls away in alarm. “(Y/N), you have a fever! We’ve got to get you into bed.”

“What a shame.” You weakly flirt, poking him gently in the chest. Despite all his bluster, he smiles.

“Come on, let’s got you taken care of.”

Jeff:

❤ It’s been a long, challenging semester, but school is finally out. You and Jeff decide to celebrate by burning all of your old homework in a big bonfire in his backyard. As you snuggle up close, tossing pieces of paper into the fire, Jeff turns to you.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks. “You’re not usually this quiet.”

You take a deep breath before speaking. “I’m scared, Jeff. I’m scared of the future. Everything is changing so fast, and I feel like I don’t know what to expect.”

“I hear that.” Jeff agrees. “But you know what? I can promise you one thing will never change: us. We’ll figure it out together. I’ll be right beside you the whole way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” And he sealed it with a kiss.

He never did break that promise.

Sherri:

❤ You and Sherri stood outside of Sherri’s front door, making one final check on each other’s appearance.

“You look wonderful, (Y/N).” Sherri said, reverently touching your collar.

“I’m so nervous, Sher,” You confess, “I really want your parents to like me.”

“They’re going to love you! She assures you. “They’ve always said that as long as I’m happy, they’re happy.”

“And I make you happy?” You ask sheepishly.

“You do.” She says, kissing you softly. “Now, shall we go in?”