Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 2

I didn’t expect that much Exposed by the Media prompts. I thought the well was dry. I was wrong. Should’ve known not to underestimate the internet and reality TV shows.

Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 1

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Lies in the Media is a Different Beast: Adrien grew up in the media spotlight. He knows it’s usually not a good idea to confront the rumors in the tabloids. It gives the rumors some credibility. When he sees Lila confront a rumor that bothers her a bit too much, he doesn’t stop her. Confronting a lie in the media needs a different method than someone lying in your personal life. Just because he’s doing the high road doesn’t mean he’s going to stop her from committing a crucial mistake.

Civilian Friends Are Okay Now: It’s well known Ladybug won’t make friends in her hero persona. She’ll be friendly and kind, but with a polite distance. People accepted it after a while. This changes after Lila’s interview on the Ladyblog. People assume Ladybug changed her mind about it since there’s no retraction article.  Civilians become more pushy and want to have more personal relations. From regular people to higher ranking citizens. (ex. No more formality, more personal rapport, friendship, or even the start of an epic romance.) A few uncomfortable situations and angry citizens forces Ladybug to address this.

Total Drama Island: The Miraculous users find out one of the prizes in a new season of the Total Drama Island reality TV show is an important Miraculous artifact. It could be anything from a Miraculous to a secret Guardian book. The heroes and villains are forced to participate as none of them found the item in time. Marinette and Adrien go in their civilian selves while Hawkmoth sends in Lila. Lila tries hard to hide her true self, but the contestants do find out.

Forgot to Log Out: Lila forgets to log out of her social media accounts in the school library. She gets distracted by something and clicks on minimize instead of the close tab on her browser. Since Lila didn’t log out of her session and the next person who gets the computer didn’t bother to do so either, her tabs are still there. The person is a noisy gossip and scrolls through them. They are intrigued by what they find. They decide to take screenshots and uploads them to the school website forum page. For the drama of course. (This is based on my experience when I was in high school and the library in my city. It was common to just close the browser and not bother to log out. The next person only logged out if they needed something from their own account. It’s not worth it to log in and out just for some internet searching.)

Dear Abby: Marinette, needing advice from a third party about Lila’s lying, sends an email to the Dear Abby column. (Or France’s equivalent.) She figures since Abby has no connection to either her or Lila, the writer can give her unbiased advice. She does her best to make the details as vague as possible so everyone in her life (including Lila) can have privacy. Her message is replied to and included in an article weeks later. Her request and Abby’s reply becomes popular amongst readers. Marinette did make a mistake, though. One of the examples she gives about “Lemon” is unique enough that someone eventually finds an interview on the Ladybug suspiciously similar to the lie. Marinette stopped watching new Lila interviews because it enraged her too much. She doesn’t want to deal with Lila after school hours as well. So she’s not aware Lila also mentioned it in an interview. Dear Abby readers dig through the interviews and discover nothing but lies. The Dear Abby column and the Ladybug drama gets big enough to be covered by the media.

Real Life Works Differently Than Fiction : A few classmates end up in a situation like Lila tells in her stories. Believing in Lila, they do what Lila claimed she did thinking it would work out the same. It doesn’t turn out so well. They get scolded by involved parties not to do that again. A reporter on the scene interviews them. It comes out why they did it. Lila’s lies are exposed as the fiction they are.

Tsurugi Influence: Kagami’s status as Adrien’s girlfriend makes Lila switch targets. Marinette is in the back burner until Lila deals with her new love rival. Her plans to deal with Kagami backfires and brings media attention. Lila was too used to love rivals not doing any major action towards her. The wrath of the Tsurugi family is brought upon her. She realizes afterwards how influential and powerful the family is.

Adrien’s Phone is Stolen Again: And this time the phone thief is caught. Lila steals Adrien’s phone to post social media posts an hour later gushing about Lila/or talking about in her a positive light. By the time Adrien finds out, he can’t take back what “he” said without controversy. Which Mr. Agreste would not like. That’s Lila’s plan anyway. The problem is that Lila makes these posts while Adrien is on a surprise live interview. (Which she is unaware of.) The interviewer asks Adrien about the new posts while Adrien is clearly not on his phone/laptop. On a hunch, a quick search by Adrien leads to the discovery that his phone was stolen. The model confirms it’s his personal account and not a media team behind it. The content of the posts make Lila the main suspect.

You Can’t Delete Me Now : Lila gets in a controversy. She starts deleting comments and defending herself. Gabriel is busy in a meeting and doesn’t find out in time to stop her. Commenters get so mad at her, one of them gets the bright idea to hold up signs resembling post/comment/ or tweet. Somewhere in their message includes a line saying, “You can’t delete me now.” The idea catches on and it becomes a trend to walk around in public or near photo shoots holding signs with their comments. Everyone includes the now famous phrase in their sign.

Lila’s Wild Ride: Lila manages to steal the monkey miraculous. However, she learns the hard way why the Guardian needs to think carefully when matching someone with a miraculous. (Lila is not good at using the monkey miraculous’ power. At all.) Xuppu easily figures out what happened and makes sure to give Lila a very memorable time. The wilder it is the better. A live news crew captures footage of Ladybug furious “that lying Lila Rossi” stole a miraculous. Chat Noir is worried they’ll see a new Hawkmoth ally soon. There’s more chaos as the criminal underworld, opportunistic people, and die hard Ladybug fans enter the scene. Meanwhile, the French government is not pleased with the Italian government. An Italian diplomat’s daughter stealing a Miraculous from Ladybug herself looks very bad for relations. Looks like a secret operation that got exposed to the more paranoid members.

Hell’s Kitchen: Gordon Ramsey hosts an amateur cooking competition. An older Lila Rossi is one of the competitors. Ramsey doesn’t like her food. (or the drama she starts. And sabotaging the other competitor’s food.) Sadly for him, her cooking is barely better than the worst ones so she is able to scrap on to the next round. The execs love her for the drama. When the season airs, the contestants notice the footage was edited to make Lila look innocent. They get hate from Hell’s Kitchen fans about their meanness and most of them do what they can to defend themselves. People become interested in what Lila is like in real life. The only requirement for the prompt is for Lila to be an adult. Ramsey would not let lose on a minor.

Collaboration Gone Wrong: The Gabriel brand does a collaboration with a brand outside the fashion industry. It could be anything as long as it gets the other brand to be on the same set as Gabriel staff. Gabriel decides to give Lila bigger roles starting with this. Lila is beyond happy. A bump in the road appears when an intern around her age pulls her aside and asks her to stop lying. Lila doesn’t of course and secretly does her best to ruin the credibility of the intern before they get the idea to tell someone else. Unbeknownst to the Gabriel model, the intern is a close relative of the collaboration company’s CEO. The intern just doesn’t advertise that fact. Doesn’t want special treatment. Heads start rolling when the CEO finds out what Gabriel’s muse has done to their beloved family member. Permanently damaging a profitable business relationship is the least of Gabriel’s worries when the media gets wind of the scandal.

Stuck With You - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Somebody

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you

Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change

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PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

NIALL

                                         A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.

It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.

We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.

I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.

"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"

"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"

I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."

"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.

"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."

"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."

"Oh you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."

I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.

Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.

"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."

Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.

"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."

"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.

"How does it feel so far?"

This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."

I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.

"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.

"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."

"I think he's got a girlfriend."

Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.

"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"

We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.

"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.

I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?

"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"

She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."

She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"

It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.

"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.

"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."

"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."

She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.

"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.

"Not our problem."

"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.

I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.

"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.

"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."

This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."

"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."

The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.

"Did I annoy you?"

"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."

My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.

"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"

We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.

"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.

"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."

Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.

I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.

"You're not ready?"

"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."

"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.

"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."

When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.

I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.

"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.

I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.

"Mm, Niall."

I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.

"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."

More post 4x13, Maddie-centric, a little Madney, a little Buddie. I just want her to be happy. Warning for a lot of emotions in this one, folks.

Maddie is elbow deep in soapy water when her phone starts ringing. She tells Hildy to answer (being a parent has definitely taught her the wonders of technology, unlike Eddie) while she shuts off the tap and reaches for the dish towel.

“Hello?” She asks, seeing Chimney’s name scrawled across the screen. It’s been two hours since he last called—not concerning, but a deviation from the usual.

“Maddie. Are you OK? How’s Jee?”

A bad call, maybe. He could’ve lost someone.

“We’re good,” Maddie says, stealing herself. She hates to lie to him, but she’s being honest in the way he means. They’re not hurting in any way he can fix.

He breathes out a whistling breath over the phone. “Good. Good. Thank God.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. No, I mean. I’m fine. But… Jesus…” He mutters something too low for her to hear. “It’s Eddie. He’s in the hospital — alive — but, but he got… he was shot, clean through the shoulder. Some psycho opened fire on the LAPD.”

Maddie’s heart drops to her stomach, where it stays for another hour until Chimney walks through their door. She’s holding Jee-Yun, who’s wailing like her little lungs are about to give out, but she and Chimney find each other like magnetic poles. She steps into his arms and wishes that the whole world could just drop away. Just her, and Chimney, and their daughter. That would be enough.

“It’s all over the news,” Maddie says. Jee-Yun seems to have been stunned into silence by the unexpected arrival of her dad.

“Athena says they’ve got some of the best people in the department on it,” Chimney says. “They’re gonna catch him.”

“They’d better.”

“Yeah well, otherwise, they’re going to have Amateur Detective Buck on their hands again.”

Jee-Yun starts hiccuping, picking up where she left off, and Chimney steps back to lift her out of Maddie’s arms. She lets go without a fight. She’s so tired of fighting.

“Don’t even joke about that. I’m sure he’s losing his mind—he hasn’t answered any of my calls or messages.”

Chimney attempts a smile. Or maybe all along he’d been going for that twisted grimace. “Bobby’s corralling him, don’t worry. Your brother isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

“Like drag Athena into an active investigation to chase down the man who stabbed you and kidnapped me?”

“Yeah,” Chimney says. “Exactly like that.”

Maddie turns her head to look out the window. She knows what he’s going to say in answer to her question, and she can’t bring herself to look at him when he does. “So what are you all going to do? What happens when someone targets the entire Las Angeles Fire Department?”

“Our jobs,” he says, and Maddie closes her eyes. “We have to, Maddie. We called in C-shift today, but we go back tomorrow.”

“OK,” Maddie hears herself say. What else can she do? How can she tell him that she’s afraid they’ve avoided tragedy one too many times, that she can see them all running to the end of a line, nothing but a long fall below them?

She feels like someone froze half of her in ice, then told the other half to run for her life. She feels fathoms deep in very dark water, but someone is screaming in her ear to swim up, up, up.

When Chimney pulls on the bullet-proof vest, Maddie doesn’t say anything. The human throat wasn’t made for the drawn-out scream inside her head.

Maddie doesn’t visit Eddie while he’s at the hospital. Between Jee-Yun and her own shifts at work, there isn’t time. She feels a little bad about that, but despite their small social circle, she and Eddie haven’t gotten that close over the years. Buck takes up all the air and space when he’s around, a wildfire that she and Eddie chase around and keep from burning up the furniture. But Maddie feels like she should have been there while Eddie was confined to a hospital bed, watching his friends risk the same fate as him when they pulled on their uniforms—she feels a sort of kinship with him. With that helplessness.

So she shows up at his door a week later with Jee-Yun and dinner.

Buck lets her in, which has ceased to be surprising as a general rule, but seems a little suspicious in these circumstances. She hasn’t heard anyone mention Ana’s name since the shooting.

“Jee-Jee!” Buck shouts, whisking Jee-Yun from Maddie’s arms.

“Oh, hi, how are you,” she mutters, watching Buck as he kisses Jee-Yun’s nose and grins. He looks like he needs a long shower and an even longer nap. But Jee-Yun giggles at him as he makes faces and smacks his lips. It’s sweet. It only hurts a little, seeing how good Buck is with her, when sometimes Maddie still thinks of him as that little kid she stitched up every time the world knocked him down. It only hurts a little that for Maddie, getting Jee-Yun to smile is like pulling out her own teeth with rusty pliers (i.e., really goddamn difficult).

“Hey, Maddie,” Eddie says, reaching the door. He nudges Buck aside to make room for Maddie to come in. “It’s good to see you.”

Maddie looks at his cast, at the way Eddie hunches in on himself and the blue-black bruises beneath his eyes from exhaustion and blunt-force head trauma, and feels so goddamn guilty. She should have come sooner. She should have tried harder.

“Hey,” she replies, wiggling the takeout bag, “I come with nourishment.”

“By all means,” Eddie says, sweeping his hand out to the hallway. Maddie leads the way to the kitchen, Eddie slumping behind her, Buck cooing at Jee-Yun and somehow managing not to walk into a wall.

“I figured something light and healthy would be best,” Maddie says, dropping the bag on the counter.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much doctor’s orders,” Eddie agrees. He peeks inside the canvas tote and pulls out a container, opening it up to reveal a big, green salad. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

“It was no problem—“ Maddie starts, but she realizes Eddie is wrinkling his nose in disgust, not gratitude. “Oh, shut up and eat your veggies. There’s chicken in it,” she adds with a laugh.

“Where?” Eddie snorts, eyeing the salad like it might come to life and strangle him with leafy hands.

“Chris! Guess who’s here!” Buck, who hasn’t heard a word of their conversation, barrels into the living room where Chris is sitting on the floor with a host of action figures.

“Don’t—don’t let her put anything in her mouth!” Maddie calls after him.

Eddie chuckles and takes a seat at the table. “How’s it going with her? With Chimney?”

“Us?” Maddie keeps her eye on the living room situation while she sits down across from Eddie. “We’re fine. How are you? Buck seems to be living in your back pocket lately.”

“Yeah, he’s been…” Eddie trails off, and Maddie glances over to see him looking at the living room. She turns her eyes back to see Buck sitting cross-legged on the floor, cradling Jee-Yun while showing Chris her tiny fingers. The first time he held Jee-Yun, Buck had lost his mind over her fingernails. They’re so small, he’d said reverently. How could anything be so small?

“I wouldn’t be here without him,” Eddie finishes. “I think I’m going to ask him to move in.” The way he says it isn’t a joke, isn’t something light-hearted about being down an arm or how Buck is free labor. He sounds contemplative. Wondrous.

“Oh,” Maddie says. “But what about… I mean, won’t that be kind of weird for Ana?”

“Buck didn’t tell you?” Eddie asks, turning back to face her and fishing a fork out of the bag. “Ana broke up with me.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I know. But it wasn’t like what happened with Chimney. Ana had the guts to say it to my face.”

“Jesus, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was the right call. I’m not upset, actually.” Eddie pokes around the container until he finds a piece of chicken, throwing Maddie a smile as he picks it up. “It was the easiest breakup I’ve ever had.”

“Well, that’s… good.” Maddie pulls the bag toward her and lifts out her own salad. She’d gotten Chris chicken fingers and fries, but Eddie doesn’t have to know that. Not until he finishes his grown-up, post-ballistic-surgery food. “Then should I ask what your intentions are towards my brother?”

Eddie chokes on his lettuce. She flashes him a smile while he struggles to swallow. “He is a strapping young man,” she adds. “Very… able-bodied.”

“You’re evil,” Eddie says, laughing.

“No, just observant,” she counters. “Every time I called Buck this week, he was either with you or Chris.”

“I keep telling you people that Buck’s suspension wasn’t my fault. I was unconscious when it happened.”

“All I’m saying is, my brother wouldn’t risk losing his job for just anyone.”

“You think so?” Eddie asks, smiling down at the table.

Maddie takes a delicate bite of spinach and pomegranate seed. “My brother spent a long time running, Eddie. I always thought he was just running away, but he was running toward something. The 118 is his family. But you and Chris are special. He would bleed himself dry if it meant keeping the two of you safe.”

Eddie’s fork is paused halfway to his mouth.

“Don’t take advantage of that,” Maddie says. “If you can’t say the same for him, you need to let him go. I’ve seen him hurt too many times, Eddie.” And she doesn’t mean just Abby—she means their parents. She watched Buck drag himself through hell for a love he shouldn’t have had to fight for. She means herself, too, because she knows that the years he spent thinking she’d chosen Doug over him had cut him deeper than she had any chance of healing. Even now that he knows the truth, there’s a scar.

“You’re a good sister.” Eddie lowers his fork and meets her eyes. “I wasn’t really expecting the shovel talk a week after getting shot, but I promise you that I feel the same.”

“Well, good,” she says. Then, “Oh god, I really did corner you while you’re—I apologize. That was thoughtless and rude of me.”

Eddie just laughs. “Please, Shannon was a wreck the whole first year. She actually forgot my birthday.”

“Oh, Chimney would never let that happen,” Maddie says, feeling a genuine, soft smile cross her face. This is the first time in a week she hasn’t felt the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. It’s an unexpected, but welcome, break. “He starts dropping hints at least three months in advance.”

“I wasn’t really around to remind her,” Eddie says. “That’s my biggest regret, really. Not being around more when Chris was little.”

Ah, there’s the familiar, soul-crushing weight of the world again. It was a nice minute, while it lasted. “It must have been hard to be away from him. I can’t even imagine…” Maddie swallows, but her food tastes sour, acrid. She can imagine. She has. She’s fantasized. About walking out the door. About not coming back.

“That’s the thing,” Eddie says, “it kind of... I mean, I missed him, and I missed Shannon. And now? I would rather get shot a thousand times than leave Chris. But at the time, it was easy. Ridiculously, insanely easy.”

Maddie watches as Eddie runs his hand through his hair, a twisted smile taking over his face. “What kind of fucking father chooses a war zone over his own wife and kid, you know? I kept telling myself it was for them, it was for us. But really I was just scared. I was terrified of it, of being a husband, a father. I didn’t know how to be those things.”

There’s something unfolding inside Maddie’s chest. An old hurt, an old fear, unraveling for her to finally grasp at its edges and see the bloody, wretched mess. “I don’t either,” she admits. She hasn’t said that to anyone. Not Buck, not Athena, not Josh. Certainly not her parents. Because that thing inside her, that little girl curled in on herself to hide away her broken heart—her parents had a lot to do with it. “I’m so scared. All the time. She’s tiny, and perfect, and I’m… I’m not good enough.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Eddie says.

“No,” Maddie says. “I’m going to ruin her, Eddie. I’m a horrible mother. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t do this.”

“Whoah, whoah.” Eddie reaches his hand across the table to grip hers, tight. Maddie raises her other hand to her face to wipe her eyes. “You’re doing great, Maddie. You’re really good with her.”

“No, I’m not. Not really. I mean, Buck is more of a natural at this than I am.” He’s in the living room, letting Jee-Yun chew on the collar of his shirt, while Chris is talking and gesturing wildly with his hands. Buck looks happy. He looks rapt, focused. All in.

“I don’t think anyone’s naturally a good parent. I think it’s supposed to be hard. That’s how you know you’re doing it right.”

“I just don’t want to hurt her,” Maddie says, watching Buck, watching Jee-Yun, watching Chris. This beautiful tableau of a family that she wants so desperately to be part of.

“That’s normal. That fear is… hell, Maddie. That’s parenthood.”

“How do you deal with it? How do you walk around with that, knowing… knowing any moment, you might fail?”

Eddie tightens his hold on her hand, pulls on it slightly to bring her focus back around to him. “I’m going to tell you something I told Buck a long time ago,” he says. “You’re going to make mistakes. It’s not like there’s some test you can study for and get the perfect kid at the end. What matters is that you love them enough to keep trying.”

Maddie remembers Buck, what feels like a lifetime ago, staring down their parents. Love me anyway, he’d said. “It’s that simple?” She asks, feeling hollow. Feeling like she failed before she even crossed the starting line.

“Of course not,” Eddie says. “It’s hard work, loving someone. But you’re not in it alone, either. You’ve got all of us.”

He’s right. Maybe she can put a little bit of the load down, once in a while. Maybe she doesn’t have to be crushed by all that weight.

“I’m sorry,” she says, cracking a smile, “all we’re doing is talking about me.”

“Trust me, it’s a relief,” Eddie says, smiling back. “All anyone wants me to do is talk about how I’m feeling. I’m sick of talking about myself.”

“It’s nice to know you’re not the only one with problems?”

“Yeah. Exactly that.”

They share a raw, honest smile, and Maddie does feel a little bit lighter. “I’ll be sure to come back for more sage advice,” she says, pulling her hand away.

“Next time, bring pizza,” Eddie says. It makes Maddie laugh.

When she gets home, she puts Jee-Yun to bed and looks at her. Just takes in that fragile nose, the impossibly delicate eyelids, her perfect, untidy mouth. She thinks about how she’s been scared her whole life—of upsetting her parents, of hurting Buck, of losing Doug, of leaving Doug, of finding love.

But all those fears, they brought her here. So maybe this is just another journey, and maybe it’s OK to be scared.

When Chimney gets home the next morning, he crawls into bed with Maddie and Jee-Yun. Their daughter had started fussing at three in the morning, and now they were both exhausted. But Maddie holds on tight, holds Jee-Yun close, and when Chimney wraps his arms around them and drops a kiss into her hair, Maddie hears him say, "my two best girls. How did I get so lucky?"

And she thinks, this. This can be enough.

Marinette runaway chapter two

it’s been a few months since Marinette went missing and a lot has happened during though months. the first day that Marinette has went missing the police came to her school to question all the students and teachers about her and where she has gone to. Most of the students was helpful but others were not so much miss. buster's class was the only on that didn’t have anything nice or helpful to say about the missing girl.

  All they’re response about the girl was that she was a bully and she just doing this for attention, the only two who have anything nice to say about the girl was Lila Rossi and Adrien agreste. they both said that Marinette was sweet and kind to help anyone in need and she was willing to do anything for the class without asking for anything in returned.

  when the police question Lila about this morning interruption she explain that Ayla had something out for Marinette so she made up some lie that would get the said girl in trouble the police nodded not sure to believe her or not. the police ended their investigation saying they will be back to ask more in the near future.

  it’s been three weeks when the police found Marinette’s phone in the trash and they found some interesting things on it the fact that the class truly  didn’t believe that Marinette has went missing to the amazement of the police the only one that stuck out was Ayla’s texts they were full up with the downright hurtful texts its seems like the police needed to have another word with Ayla...

  “I’m telling you Marinette didn’t runaway her parents are just hiding her away! Question them not me! Ayla exclaimed officer Maxx didn’t look impress “listen Ms. Césaire we have already questions Marinette’s parents already they were for helpful to us telling us everything we need to know and her school life.”

  “okay and!?”

  Maxx looked annoyed “look I just come to ask about yours and Ms. dupain-cheng relationship with each other, before ms.Rossi came to your school.”

  “why does this have to do with Lila?” Ayla said narrowing her eyes officer maxx shook his head

  “this have nothing to do with her. We’re just trying to understand what happened to her.”

  Ayla still looked suspicious but decided to go along with it she begun to start from the beginning

  “me and Marinette met during the first day of school I was the new girl their but me and her become quick friends and during the few years I known her is was the best girl I could ever asked for. But then she changes when Lila came around, she was accusing Lila of being a liar and other things to then, she started to hurt Lila and our friendship started to go south after that. I don’t know what the problem was Lila a great girl if Marinette have just given her a chance none of this would have never happened.”

  “I see.” Maxx said he signed looking at the tape recorder than back to her.

“what?”

      Officer Maxx looked at her

  “Ms. Césaire I would like to show you something is that okay.”

  “sure.” Ayla said uneasily

  Maxx smile “now before we brought you in ms.Rossi came to us with some information about you and Ms. dupain-cheng relationship the way she put it make it seems like you two was never friends.”

  Ayla looked shocked “w-what?”

  Maxx pick up a tape recorder

  “now do you know what this is?”

  “yeah it’s a tape recorder.” Ayla said not sure where this is going Maxx nodded

  “good now I want you to listen to this.” As Maxx said this, he push play on it.

  Ayla was surprise she didn’t know how to feel after listening to her so called best friend on the tape recorder this has to be a joke right Lila never lied to them once but this was a straight up lie she and Marinette been friends on the first day of school. The class loved and cared about Marinette they had a strong relationship but… the words that came out of Lila mouth were all lies

“w-hat is this? This is some kind of joke did Marinette parents paid you to do this…” Ayla said her voice quiet maxx shook his head “no Ms. Césaire this is not a joke.” And just with those few words Ayla world started to break.

  Adrien was miserable not only was his miraculous was taken away from him, but his best friend had went missing. Missing out of all the people that he care about why his best friend had to go missing why does everything bad had to happen to him, out of all people he had to get the worse of it his mother disappeared, he has an uncaring father that will not give him the time of day, plagg gone forever and now his friend is gone. He wanted to cry but he can’t sit here and cry forever he must find Marinette and bring her home everyone misses her very much the first step is to get his father to help look for her. With that Adrien got off his bed to go look for his father to help with the search party he walked out of his room with determination “Adrien you can’t go in there.” Nathalie said stepping in front of Adrien but his didn’t stop him “Nathalie please move I have to talk with father about something especially important.”

“is this about your missing classmate?”

Adrien eyes went wide how did Nathalie know?

She shook her head than said “your father doesn’t have time deal with stuff like that.”

“b-but…” Adrien was cut off by Nathalie “no buts Adrien now we have to talk about the up and coming events for….” Nathalie words die in Adrien ears don’t have time don’t have time he never had time for him he only care about himself that all he cared about himself anger was the only thing that he felt that day anger at himself and at his father. He couldn’t take it anymore he just walked away as he did Nathalie called after him just ignore her and walked back to his room, he has to talk to someone, and he know who to talk to.

Coraline was happily skipping though out the little town school just got out and she was heading to her new home it been a month snice she left her old life but she was happy plus couldn’t just leave this place after Oliver and Michael show her around this place she decided stay instead of going to her designated place. “I’m home!” Coraline exclaimed with a bright smile

“welcome home dear.” Ms. beauty said with a bright smile of her own Ms. Beauty was an elderly lady that Coraline live with she is an overly sweet old lady she was also the grandmother of Oliver and Michael “how was school dear.” she asked as she walked up to the young girl Coraline skipped to her “school was great me and Oliver got a good grade on our project!” she said happily “oh that wonderful dear.”

“I’m going to my room now.” With that Coraline left when she gots to her room, she signed she taking off her bookbag and walking to her bed to sit on it taking out her phone she check Paris news “so far no akumatizion so far…”

“that a good thing, right?” Tikki said looking at Coraline

“yeah it is but why do I feel so weird about it.”

“what do you mean?”

Coraline looked at her kwami “Tikki it’s been a month since I left and nothing, they should have some high emotions but nothing none from my class. My parents will try to keep clam especially my mother and my father would try but I don’t know I guess a part of me hoped something will happen. “she confesses looking down Tikki looked at her and signed she petted Coraline head with a smile “it’s okay  Marinette your old class showed their true color. Its time to move on.”

Marinette giggled and kissed her kwami “remember Tikki my new name is Coraline not Marinette she long and gone now.”

“oh sorry” Tikki giggled “still getting used to the name.” they both laugh laying back on her bed she was thinking about what Tikki said and she was right it was time to stop thing about it. Marinette is dead and gone now now its Coraline bellamy now and nothing would change that.

“Coraline! Abby is here to see you!” Ms. Beauty called “coming!” with that Coraline left her room to see her friend.

  Lila was over the roof when she heard that Marinette had went missing now nothing will stop her from taking over the school. But there was a problem thanks to Ayla big mouth now she was under suspicion by the police now she must come up with a really good lie luckily for her. She knows that the police were idiot so they will believe whatever she says first was the what was Marinette like and where she may have gone to Lila told some truth in her lie about said girl next was to throw Ayla under the bus in which  she did it was so easy to do because she know that the class already hate Marinette thanks to her it would be no problem to convince police she had nothing to do  with Marinette. To say this was a good thing now she just has to sit back and watch the fireworks and if Ayla turn against her well, she ends up like Marinette lonely and friendless.

Lila was unaware that her plan will backfire in her face hard.

here is the long waited chapter two of Marinette runaway I hope you like this chapter give me some feedback on it and what I need to change from it or not. I’ll work on the chapter three when I get a chance. on I proofread it and edited it if there any place where it don't make any sense or its a run on sentence or any misspellings please let me know so I can fix it!

clarke griffin sucks here’s why

Hi! I’ve wanted to actually write some anti-Clarke discourse for a while now, specially because I’ve hated her since I first heard her talk to someone else in the show, but I was always hesitant because of blorkes and Clarke stans and all that. Well, I’m doing it anyway.

(DISCLAIMER: all this comes from her depiction in the show. I have no idea how book Clarke is, since I’ve never read the The 100 books. Now buckle up and enjoy my angry and not-that-thought-out rant.) (And I’m putting it under the cut because it is... a lot.)

I know many people started to dislike Clarke after season 3 or whatever, but I believe she has been problematic since the beginning. 

For starters, she put herself in a position of power during season 1, and that’s a fact. People say she “had no choice but to become a leader”, but that’s a lie. Just like Bellamy did, she made the decision to bear leadership: from the moment they arrived, she was already making orders and trying to boss people around. Was she wrong? No, she wasn’t! She wanted to keep herself and others alive, which is a good thing. But she didn’t have to. Btw, if she had never done anything things wouldn’t have change, to be honest, since they did not get to Mount Weather and built their little cute camp around the dropship. I mean, Jasper wouldn’t have been speared and they would have found out about the Grounders a bit later, but I think nothing much would’ve happened. Actually, maybe things with the Grounders would have been easier, considering I firmly believe the theory that the only reason they attacked Jasper in the first place was because he was all happy about finding Mount Weather, the place that had been kidnapping and killing Grounders for a long ass time. 

My point is: I believe Clarke wasn’t actually needed as a leader when they first came down to Earth. I think she was just a spoiled priviledged girl, just like Bellamy said she was, who could not get around to letting go of the power she held. There was no more priviledged and non-priviledged, so she secured her influence by becoming a leader. 

An important statement that people tend to forget: she was just as guilty as Bellamy was for Murphy’s hanging, if not more. She was always talking about justice and whatnot, but when she had the chance to be just, she wasn’t. A knife is not enough evidence to fucking accuse someone of murder — during 1918 and 1919, there was a serial murder going around called “The Axeman of New Orleans”, who used axes he found in people’s houses to kill them (I’m a fan of true crime sorry not sorry). If police went by Clarke’s logic, the dead would’ve been the murderers, which certainly does not make much sense. The least she could’ve done was talking to him separately, conducted a trial or whatever, anything but accusing Murphy of murder before the whole camp. She knew they hated him, and so did Bellamy, and that’s why Bellamy didn’t want her to tell everyone about Wells�� yet. And yes, sure, she was grieving, but grief is still not an excuse for what she did to Murphy, it isn’t. She might have tried to stop the hanging later or whatever, but it was still a direct consequence of her actions and would not have happened at all if she had stopped to think for even a moment. The truth is that Clarke does not comprehend that she can actually be wrong, a fact that repeats itself multiple times throughout the series.

(There are other times she fucks up during season 1, but Murphy’s hanging is what stands out the most to me, so I decided to leave it on that. But don’t worry, I have many other examples!)

I can’t even express how much she pissed me off during season 2. Yes, Mount Weather was a very suspicious place and she was right to be wary, but how could she leave her people and escape? She wanted to get help and all that, but she fucking knew they were bleeding out the Grounders and was definetely aware they would soon try something alike to the 48, and she still left them. She left them alone and clueless to the danger they were in, and she didn’t even know if the Ark had come down alright or if there were other survivors. Mount Weather was lying to them about not finding anyone but she couldn’t be sure of that — everyone could have been fucking dead and she would have left her “people” to die too.

I’m not even gonna talk about Lexa’s betrayal because that wasn’t actually her fault, I admit that. Was she stupid to trust a Grounder? Yes. Should she have considered the fact they tried to kill Raven the first opportunity they got (when Lexa’s cup was poisoned) and the fact that the Grounders did not trust them because of Finn and wrongly Raven? Obviously. Does that make Lexa’s betrayal her fault? No, but she should have seen it coming, tbh.

And, again, she put herself in a position of power where she wasn’t needed. There were actual adults ready to look for a better solution, but she didn’t let them. Of course she didn’t  — how could Princess Griffin let go of her power?

Letting Mount Weather drop the bomb on TonDC was... horrible. It was not the act of a leader and it was not the act of a good person. It was selfish, it was the act of someone who leaves their people to die with the excuse of “looking for help” without even knowing if there is help waiting for them at all. It would have revealed Bellamy’s position, yes, but Bellamy would have preferred that than letting people die like Clarke and Lexa did. THEY LET PEOPLE DIE. Hundreds of people! God, they didn’t save the Grounders and the Skaikru that had come for a DIPLOMATIC AND PACIFIC reunion, but Clarke really thought her deal with Lexa would mean something if a better deal appeared, right? Damn, that was naive.

And then she left her people again by the end of the season, of course. “I bear it so others don’t have to” my ass — Bellamy still went apeshit and Jasper still got depressed and no one actually saw her bearing it, so they bear it too. The only thing girlie did was leave behind responsibility and betray her friends so she didn’t have to face regret for her actions. Meanwhile, people needed her, since she had put herself in a position of power for so long that everyone actually looked up at her, for some unknown reason, since she mainly fucked things up.

I don’t remember season 3 that well, but I know that Bellamy’s rant to her when she came back and was trying to be his friend was absolutely reasonable and true. She fucked off into the woods, represented Skaikru in Polis without them knowing for a while, came back to Arkadia and tried to get some power again, but then no one cared about her. Bellamy was too busy making the wrong decisions because of his emotional pain and sorrow to actually give a shit and they had greater things to solve than filling Clarke’s need to be worshipped.

Also, the whole “blood must not have blood” shit? Funny, real funny. It’s just like Lexa pointed out: “blood must not have blood until it applies to your people”. She is SUCH a hypocrite it pains me. And she did not spare Emerson for “blood must not have blood”, she did it because she knew it would make him suffer more and that came back to bite her in the ass. Karma’s a bitch, I guess. And she tried to make Luna become Commander against her will, which I’m not gonna talk about, but was just really fucked up.

I think my hatred for Clarke peaked during season 4. First, she didn’t want to tell the Grounders the world was about to end again and was apparently okay with letting them burn, until Roan found out and got mad about it. She tried to become Commander, blatantly disrespecting Grounder culture just so she could boss all the people in the world around. “She wanted to help!” “She had no choice!” Yes, sure, she had no choice but lying to everyone and disrespecting a whole nation. She couldn’t, you know, talk about it. Okay. I mean, that’s how Clarke does things, right? Kill and deceive first, give a half-assed apology later. It has been working so far, there’s no reason for her to stop.

Forcing Luna to give them her bone marrow? Very problematic, but “Welcome to Mount Weather” was one of my favorite Raven quotes. Abby was also a fucking bitch for being alright with killing Emori but throwing a tantrum when Clarke finally came to her senses and decided to test Nightblood on herself instead of murdering people who went all the way there to help her, but that’s not what I’m focusing on.

Locking Murphy up while she attempted to kill Emori? Not good. Emori knew from the beginning she would be chosen for testing Nightblood — she is a Grounder, and Clarke’s disregard for Grounders has been made very clear before. (And no, having a Grounder girlfriend in a very unprofessional and non-diplomatic way does not excuse her from discriminating against Grounders.)

And then she took over the bunker, disrespecting Grounder culture once again by betraying the conclave and, well, many people. (I know Echo did it too, but I’m not talking about Echo right now so if someone brings this up I’m gonna riot.) I also think it’s funny how she was always talking about saving everyone and all that shit but was so fucking fast to leave Raven, Octavia, Monty, Harper and Kane to die. You know, the people who were supposed to be her friends and all that. Oh, well.

Then Octavia won. And she still did not open the bunker. Man, opening the bunker would save so many lives, including the life of her oh-so-called best friend’s sister, but she still didn’t do it. Classic Clarke God-complex: she decides who is worth saving, and the Grounders aren’t. Then there’s the whole thing with holding Bellamy at gunpoint and then using “but I didn’t shoot!” as an apology. Bitch, it isn’t about shooting, it is about the fact you looked your supposed best friend straight in the eyes and pointed a gun at him, threatening to kill him if he dared to try and save his sister and many others of certain death.

She sacrificed herself by the end of this season, great. I mean, yeah, that was nice of her. Congrats for doing a good thing for once, I guess, even though she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to get back in time anyway so the least she could do was making sure the others lived. I wish she had actually died then, it would’ve been a great end to her arc (finally saving her friends at the cost of her life after betraying them and leaving them to die repeatedly — damn, I might had even started to like her a bit after that) and I would be able to stand the worshipping of her done at the start of season 5, since she would be, yk, dead. Sadly, that did not happen.

She was a villain during season 5 just like Octavia and I wish she had been depicted that way. She wanted to kill Blodreina (because just overthrowing her wouldn’t do) but she wasn’t okay with letting Madi take the chip. I know these are different things, but see it like that: killing Octavia was a way of taking control of Wonkru at the expense of a life. Madi becoming Commander was a way to take control of Wonkru at the expense of Madi’s childhood. Are any of them good? Not really, but Commander Madi does not envolve killing someone and even has a nice ring to it. Besides, Madi had given consent to taking the chip.

(Another point: Octavia was actually thrown into a position of power, just like everyone claims Clarke was. Octavia was the conclave’s champion and was expected and even obligated to lead, while Clarke simply decided she was more competent than the others and became a self-proclaimed leader. After that, she whined for all seasons about how she didn’t want leadership. Octavia never did that, despite being the one who became a leader unwillingly. Just like Raven put, Octavia and Clarke are the same, but Octavia doesn’t pretend to feel bad for empathy points. Damn, I love Raven.)

She left Bellamy to die in the fighting pit, because now Madi is the one she cares about so fuck everyone else. She gave over Raven and Shaw and let them be tortured for nothing. She betrayed literally everyone and was the one to put McCreary in a position strong enough he had the power to literally destroy Earth. Clarke Griffin was directly responsible for Earth’s end.

And then she said “sorry, I had no choice” and most characters fucking forgave her. I hate the way this series throws Clarke’s half-assed apologies onto us and expect us to accept them. I think it is very annoying, since Clarke would be an awesome villain, but they insist in making her one of the good guys, even with the whole “there’s no good guys” theme, which I wholeheartedly believe to be just a way to justify why Clarke needs to be forgiven again and again and again. It is not much more than bad writing, to be honest.

During season 6 she again becomes a leader without being prompted to. I loved Josephine and I think that the fact Clarke wasn’t actually Clarke was the only reason I didn’t absolutely despised her like I have done for the previous seasons. Again, I would have loved it if she had actually died then. Imagine Josephine becoming a main character for season 7 too? Amazing, brilliant, showstopping, incredible.

And she is not even there for season 7, at least until “The Queen’s Gambit” lol. Guess they finally saw how much of an annoying character she is. The only thing I remember of her is the “I don’t believe in Karma” thing, which was... expected. I mean, someone who has done as much harm as she has can’t believe in Karma anyway or she wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and Clarke’s whole thing is about pretending to be sorry but not actually trying to change, so we can’t have that.

In conclusion, Clarke Griffin fucking sucks. She is a bad person and the way everyone always forgives every bad thing she does is bad writing. The series tries to sell her as one of the characters on the “good” side, but she actively works against it. She is not even a GOOD villain to watch, like Murphy was for many seasons. She is just an annoying character with a God complex who fucks things up, betrays her friends and lets people die again and again and then is forgiven because she is supposed to be an admirable main character. She is selfish and abusive and manipulative and power-hungry and fucking sucks, so please don’t stan her.

And that’s on that! Nice.

(DISCLAIMER PART 2: this blog DOES NOT support Eliza Taylor and Bob Morley, specially after Arryn Zech’s accusations. I know we cannot be sure of anything, but I prefer to side with a potential liar than with a potential abuser.)

radio silence (chapter 2: andrew and aaron)

andrew starts taking his medication and aaron hates it just as much as his brother does, especially seeing as the pills wont even let him say it 

(heavy tw for mentions of matricide, canon-typical violence, sexual assault (thanks giving, andrew’s perspective), medication and drake’s murder) 

*

Andrew supposed he’d deserved it when Aaron went silent on him after Tilda died and Andrew forcefully shut Aaron into the bathroom of their new place to get clean, but it was still never silent.

There was always someone there at the other end of the line. Someone breathing down the phone, waiting to hear whatever you said. It was comforting only because it was all Andrew had ever known, unable to fathom what it was like to be completely alone.

When Andrew had been forced onto his medication after his perhaps over-enthusiastic response to Nicky being pushed around by a bunch of assholes outside Eden’s, a new kind of buzzing filled his head. 

Static. Grainy, grainy static. An external pressure, squeezing around his temples like his head was stuck in the clouds, thousands of miles above normal altitude. He hated the way it felt but there was nothing he could do about it, the grin curling on his lips without consent.

The first time Aaron had spoken to him in months was in the quiet of a dark kitchen. Nicky was asleep in his room. Andrew was making hot cocoa and unable to sleep because he’d taken his dosage too late. He’d noticed Aaron lingering by the kitchen’s entrance and refused to say anything, letting the false cheer dangle off the tip of his spoon as he watched droplets of hot cocoa slip off the aluminium surface, back into his mug. It’d long gone cold.

“I can’t hear you,” Aaron said, finally finding his spine to talk to his loony twin. “I can’t—reach out to you. It’s silent.”

“Well,” Andrew drawled, tempted to laugh. “Isn’t that a shame?”

“I hate it,” Aaron hissed, contradictory in every way. “We’ve never—we’ve never been apart before. I hate it. Can’t we—can’t you appeal?”

“Oh, Aaron,” Andrew lamented, hand over his heart. His brother’s vulnerabilities were cute, but there was no way Andrew would share his own. Not out loud. “You should go cry to someone who’s capable of caring. Because that person is definitely not me.” He grinned, arching an eyebrow.

“This isn’t you,” Aaron said, resolutely. As he paced back into the hallway, he repeated himself. “This isn’t you.”

Andrew simply laughed.

*

“On one condition,” Andrew said, pointing at Wymack and almost poking the old man in the chest. “My brother and cousin come on the team, too. And I get to come off my meds for games.”

Aaron startled. It was the first time Andrew had ever hinted that he, too, hated the loneliness.

*

When Kevin stumbled into Wymack’s apartment with a shattered hand, Andrew had laughed, pointing at him with a bottle of booze in his hand.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen!” He crowed. Kevin glared and did not laugh.

Pity. Aaron probably would’ve appreciated that.

*

Andrew, Aaron had whispered, sickeningly relieved as the curtain between them parted, their minds severed no more.

It would only be for another half hour or so, before Andrew had to take his dose at half time. He looked at his brother, watching the way relief wormed down Aaron’s spine and had him grip his racket harder.

It was their first game on the line. Most of the team hated Andrew and his merry band of monsters, of which had grown from three to four when Kevin promised Andrew that he would find him something to live for after his medicated euphoria eventually wore off. It was a lousy promise at best: Andrew had no disillusions about finding satisfaction in his life, and no desire to lie to himself either. Kevin’s miserable obsession with Exy couldn’t fill the gaping wound that’d been carved into Andrew’s chest the minute that Tilda left him in the plastic bucket of baby rejects.

The connection with Aaron strengthened as the withdrawal kicked up, sped up by the gruelling game. The Foxes lost, because of course they did, and Andrew faked a laugh to convince everyone in the arena that he wasn’t deviating from his parole.

Until next game, Aaron said, as Andrew swallowed the pills. He was too physically wretched to stifle the weak nod. Kevin looked between them, eyes narrowed. He’d probably figure it out, just like Nicky had a long while ago, but neither of them would say anything. It was best to just pretend that the twins hated each other, just like everyone else assumed.

Andrew was comfortable in the shadows of those assumptions. The four of them settled into the strange routine, dodging Riko and his Ravens and spending nights under the haze of cracker dust and alcohol.

Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, he knew Aaron was counting down the days till Andrew could come off the medications.

He, admittedly, was too.

*

Andrew was suddenly glad that Aaron could not hear his loudest thoughts most of the time, when Neil Josten rocked up, a bundle of lies and a bigger bundle of threats.

He was brown haired and brown eyed and barely tall enough to fit all his too-intricate stories within, and yet there he was, able to tell the difference between him and Aaron immediately, running away from Columbia in a feverish demand for freedom, stood in Wymack’s living room with half-truths tolerable enough for Andrew to swallow.

If Aaron could hear the way Andrew’s mind twisted and turned over Neil Fucking Josten, he’d be mighty suspicious.

Worse was when Neil began asking. And Andrew let himself answer. Worse was the way Neil practised honesty enough to keep Andrew intrigued but continually lied like an animal licking a wound it should just leave alone.

Thanksgiving came and went.

The real nightmare was the weekend after.

Andrew had never grown used to the static, not in the four years he’d been medicated, especially not when he let his shield against the world drop occasionally, for games or for nights at Eden’s. It was enough that neither him, nor Aaron, really got used to the absence. The absess.

He walked up the stairs to where Luther had promised him liquor, opening the door to Nicky’s old bedroom. It was dark, curtains drawn and the rust on the lock suspiciously etched, like it’d been tested recently. If Andrew was capable of conjuring warning bells through the cloud that surrounded him, he’d be hearing them ringing like they did in a bad man’s chapel on a Sunday morning.

One moment, he was staring a fully-fledged nightmare, dead between the eyes. The next his bottle of Blue came careening through the air, and the trickle of liquid down Andrew’s scalp was a strange concoction of hot blood and iced spirits, glass shards just to make it interesting.

It was like a waltz. One, two, three. One, two, three. One: Hand around Andrew’s neck. Two: Whispered words in his ear. Three: Seconds Andrew had to contemplate why him, like he was thirteen again. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two—

“Andrew,” Aaron snarled, more terrified for Andrew than he was of himself. He’d always known exactly who Drake was, who the Spears were: He’d almost been there. He’d certainly heard every one of Andrew’s broken cadences, desperately searching for an out.

And yet there he stood, bloodied, with Neil’s racket in his hands and blood across his face. Andrew couldn't hear himself, not when he laughed, not when he demanded if the blood was Aaron’s, not when Luther appeared in the doorway clutching the silver cross that dangled across his throat.

Remember? Andrew laughed. Cackled. Remember when you insisted it was just a misunderstanding?

“He told you, and you still brought him here?” Aaron said, cold, furious. They were closer and more intricately woven than anyone knew, Andrew clutching onto Aaron’s bloodied shirt as Neil covered him up with a sheet, laughter still wracking his body like a bloody cough. “Get out. Get out!”

Wasn’t it just niche, the way everything worked out. Aaron was lugged off in police custody whilst Andrew was strapped to a stretcher, paramedics shining light into his eyes. He was still buzzing too high off the ground to reach out to Aaron and see if he was alright, because even if Andrew cared about nothing, Aaron’s survival was still imperative. He’d fought so long for it, after all.

Neil offered himself up as Kevin’s leash, like he wasn’t fulfilling that role already. He shoved Andrew’s hand under his shirt and gave him his true name and Andrew was spinning. He was dancing so close to the edge. He’d laugh if he wasn’t so fucking terrified of losing control all over again.

“You’re not going to say goodbye to Aaron?” Abby asked, when Betsy had filched him from the comfort of his room to take him to Easthaven.

“Can’t say goodbye if you never said hello in the first place,” Andrew said, cheerfully as he skipped his way to the front door. None of them would truly understand the significance of that statement, that Andrew and Aaron had never said hello, nor goodbye. There was no need if they never left you alone.

He ignored the way Neil watched him as he left, ignored the idle chatter Betsy filled the car with, ignored the introduction of his psychiatric team.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have taken more care. It was too late now.

*

Andrew, Aaron breathed, when the fogginess lifted perhaps two weeks later. He had no way of telling, really. Andrew had his head in a bucket, the smooth plastic his constant view. Aaron’s voice was—admittedly—a comfort. Andrew, are you alright?  

You still behind bars? Andrew asked, craning his neck as he settled back into his stiff, unforgiving bed and its cold, unyielding sheets.

Matt’s mom paid my bail. We’re heading up to New York for Christmas as thanks.

You’re not telling me something.

Aaron made a derisive noise. Andrew was always the more perceptive one. Neil knows.

How.

He figured it out. I don’t know how. He told me to tell you not to let Proust near you before he left yesterday.

Left where?

Uncle was in town apparently. Wouldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Liar, through and through.

Be careful, Andrew. I have a hunch that Neil’s got privy information. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, but it seemed valid.

Thanks for the input, Andrew thought, sourly. Aaron snorted. Now, fuck off.

I hated the silence, Aaron offered.

Andrew stared silently out of the metal grate that covered his window, the bleak clouds and wind-swept trees.

As a form of peace offering with the only person who’d always been there for him, he said: Me too.

*

I’ve met a girl. Promise me you won’t hurt her.

I won’t if she gives me no reason to.

Her name is Katelyn. She makes me happy. Scare her off when you get back and I will tell everyone that you waited for months after our 11th birthday for your letter to Hogwarts.

Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t kill you first.

*

Andrew walked out of his room and down the familiar corridors of his ward, beady eyes peering out at someone who was walking free. He was directed by Dr. Whoeverthefuck, clipboard under his arm and a haughty expression scrawled across his narrow features.

There was a bit of talking. Nicky called out his name, concern obvious and sickening and too much. Kevin was evaluating, Neil was curious and Aaron just looked at him blankly, like he always did. They didn’t need expressions or emotions or even spoken words to communicate. It was just enough to be. So when Andrew marched straight for the exit and threw his ward-stay clothes in the bin, Aaron wasn’t phased, following along closely behind.

Andrew held out the keys for Neil, who passed them over without a qualm. Good. He didn’t feel like arguing with Neil now, when he felt scraped out and broken down into tiny little fragments. Neil said nothing, his garishly blue eyes darting between Aaron and Andrew, perhaps a little too obviously for Neil’s liking. He had a bandage under his eye and bruises littering what little exposed skin Andrew could see, the red curls falling in tresses over his ears.

Why are you looking at him like that? Aaron muttered, climbing into the car. Andrew turned away from Neil sharply, clambering into the driver’s seat and slamming it behind him.

He kept the music loud enough to drown out Aaron’s curious prodding, refusing to look in the rear-view where Neil was sat, looking wistfully out of the window. Even Nicky was quiet, unsure of how to approach Andrew when he hadn’t really spoken to the man sober in four and a half years.

The drive was too fast. Aaron shuffled Nicky and Kevin inside the tower with little more than a brief you should take a nap, or at least have some coffee, before you face the others, like Andrew was still a prickly toddler.

Neil wasn’t as easily swayed. He reached under the driver’s seat to grab his stalker binder, bound in a plastic bag, before Andrew even had the chance to move out of the way. He couldn’t say he minded the proximity, even when the way Neil looked at him when Andrew accused him of breaking his promise made his heart skip.

“I hope Aaron warned you off Proust,” Neil murmured. “Riko said if I didn’t go, he would—“

His hand covered Neil’s mouth before he could let another treacherous word past his lips. Andrew fucking hated him. He fucking hated him.

Proust had entered his room in the early hours of an average morning, smiling beseechingly. Andrew refused to talk to him, instead threatening the nurse that came in after Proust’s session that if he ever caught Proust in his vicinity again, he would break the man’s neck.

The doctor was kept well away from Andrew after that.

“I don’t need your protection, or your condolences.” He snapped.

“No, I suppose not.” He echoed. “Have you and Aaron always been able to hear one another? I thought it was an urban myth.”

“Shut up.” Andrew said, voice more of a snarl than he intended it to be. Neil was making his control slip and he hadn’t even been back for a half hour yet. “I hate you.”

“I know.” Neil said, easily.

*

i know theres a lot of lacking scenes from canon but its not about andrew and neil srry lmao its twinyards week for a reason (andreil worms its way in anyway, but i tried my best)

stay tuned for tomorroww!! 

6.12 Adjustment Protocol rewatch

okay here we go.

Watching Clarke pretend to be Josephine while possessed Madi threatens to kill them all, and she’s got to put on that callous act was terrible. But then she managed to delay Echo’s execution by saying she wanted to be there for Simone’s awakening which was clever. Abby threatens to kills Russell for killing Clarke, and he’s like “yeah, I thought I wouldn’t leave the path (path what path?) until I killed my family in the first eclipse, so I believe you.” I’m thinking, like granddaughter like grandmother.

Meanwhile Murphy is playing both sides to get immortality but also manage to save his people. Doesn’t manage to save Echo. But he lives another day to keep on scamming the rest.

Then Bellamy outside the compound chomping at the bit ready to change the plan because he can’t stand there doing nothing and Octavia is the reasonable one telling him to have faith. 

Sheidheda tells Raven he knows what she’s doing and will kill the child if she does it, meanwhile Russell is going to kill her with bone marrow extraction so Abby takes the nightblood serum so they can take the bone marrow from her. “Like mother like daughter,” Jackson says. In walks Clarke and she hugs Abby and everyone is stunned and relieved, and she say she. needs Raven to open the shields but Raven says no, she can’t leave Madi or sheidheda will kill her. And Clarke is like, good no. Okay, we’ll use Ryker. She’s be Josephine and persuade him. I really like the Raven and CLarke interaction here even though it’s focused on Abby and Madi. Raven’s sorrow at Josephine and relief at Clarke being alive was real and refusing to leave Madi, although Clarke was trying to be pragmatic, is a sign that Raven has grown in her moral development that so often sacrificed others for her pragmatism, and this time she was like, no. I have to do the right thing and save THIS child. Of course Clarke agreed. And when she went off to save them all, Raven was like, damn right, back where she belongs, saving our asses. I’ll take care of the fam and save Madi. Because it really felt like she was part of the family there. Caring for Abby, for Madi, and. believing in Clarke once again. I guess it makes Jackson the big bro. 

So Ryker’s dead and Clarke’s smart so she grabs the minddrive and plans to coerce his mom to open the shield and still pretending to be J. Why don’t they suspect her? IDK. Is she that good?

Raven finding out Emori and Murphy are the next primes was interesting. She was disappointed in Emori. I still think they had a poly thing for a while. BUt that is not analysis, that’s headcanon. Whatever happened on the ring stays on the ring. 

Then Gabriel flips when he finds out all the primes are coming back and he crashes their plan. NOW Bellamy wants to be reasonable. lol. I guess Octavia’s pep talk worked.

The scene where Clarke marches into the bar with Echo, Miller and Gaia hiding and grabs Priya to get the shield, she makes up a story about Ryker losing his nerve and Echo’s like, we can’t let them leave and attacks, takes out the guards (Delilah’s mom smacks one over the head, too!) and then Priya is running and Clarke clotheslines her. AWESOME. And Echo is like, “I knew it!” Because Echo never lost faith in Clarke or stopped believing in her. She understands Clarke because they have so many similarities. More than Bellamy even, Echo has been on Clarke’s side (probably because she has no hurt feelings about what she’s done.) Echo and Clarke hug and I loved to see it. Y’all are completely unfair to Echo as a character, mischaracterizing her because she’s the opposing ship. This whole stan/anti thing sucks. SORRY. little fandom rant. I apologize. Moving on. Gaia didn’t believe. She’s like How are you here? Miller and Echo are just like, of course she’s here, she’s Clarke. duh. 

OH Abby and Raven reconciled. Abby admits that bodysnatching for Kane was wrong, all she wanted was him back, but now that she got Clarke back, she understands Raven was right. And RAVEN is like, I’m sorry I’ve been judging you so unfairly, you’re human. And here we have character development revelations that we’ve been waiting for. Abby says you may not be my daughter but you’re my family, solidifying their mother/daughter type relationship and the hug. YAY! Reconciliation and apologies and understanding hurrah!

I should have known.

In comes Russell and Memori. Abby is like, “I know how scared you are but betraying your friends isn’t the way to do it.” He says, “believe it or not this is good for you too.” And honestly, he is trying to save them. And if Bellarke’s plan hadn’t worked, what they do would be the best option. But as it is, it’s just a backup and it does help their plan eventually. 

And then Russell asks for Abby’s help. And then Abby gets suspicious. And he tells her he has all the primes he needs. And this is so sick.

His rationale is “I killed your daughter, and because you will ask me to pay for that murder, I am going to kill you too.”

That is NOT eye for an eye. He can’t even stick to his own twisted morality.

Jackson for the first time gets violent and hits a guard but the other guard takes him down while another holds Raven. Abby is given the shot and falls. The last thing she sees is her daughter Raven, her son Jackson, and then she starts flashing through Jake, Kane, and Clarke growing up. Before she’s dead.

I hate Russell. There’s no way he’d be my favorite villain. 

Russll vs Gabriel. “Without death life is meaningless.” But the resurrections are done. Nothing more powerufl than the truth. “You’re wrong, faith is.” He thinks seeing all their gods will make them have faith again.

The alarm goes off too soon ruining the plan. Gabriel. You messed up.

Gabriel can’t even kill Russell. “You never had the stomach to be a god.” WHY do gods have to kill people? Russell you suck.

Oh the primes. Murphy and Emori look so damn good. Honestly. They look beautiful. 

The shield goes down and Bellamy says “I told you she’d do it,” and Octavia is like what? And then elbows him and laughs. What a great tiny moment that shows they have gotten back to their relationship. Not perfect, but THEM. Well done. 

Bellamy takes Priya to tell the truth to the Sanctumites and it’s sad, admitting that they weren’t one with the primes and they weren’t gods, just humans with technology, needing their bodies to live forever. Then Russell, the demon, gasses everyone and they go psychotic. The parents killed Priya which was fitting. But Clarke and Gaia go to save Madi and Echo leads earthrku and COG into the machine shop where she was imprisoned. The action has less meaningful stuff to the narrative, I find. But fun.

Oh Clarke, they do the rotating camera until she sees Abby. Jackson and Raven are crying and Clarke is overcome. Almost. Gabriel draws her attention and she yells at him about her broken heart and his treachery. It was very kind of him. 

Stupid Simone is like “well at least you have closure.” WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT WOMAN? 

Then they need Raven because they have no pilot since they killed the Lees and Simone puts a gun to Madi’s head. Russell’s about to throw Gaia to the wolves but Clarke saves her by saying they’ll need her to get onto the ship. 

Open to shot of Indra guarding the door with armed guards as it opens to Simone, Russell and Clarke!Josephine holding guns to the heads of Madi, Raven and Gaia on their knees. 

Russell is SUCH a villain. Nothing redeeming about him except for his looks and dignified appearance and that is not enough. And Simone is heartless. I suppose they are the Head and Heart of that generation. Simone was a shadow of Abby, and in the end, the shadow swallowed her. 

@linzzmorgan100 @wolfheartgirl  @braindeadkat @kattitudereads @beholdmysparkle @elspethelfgordie @theatre-steph @franklyineedcoffee  @iishallbelieve

Down Below (Chapter 39)

Summary: Y/N Reyes lands on Earth with the rest of the 99 prisoners. Being one of the first people to come back “home” after 97 years of living in space, she learns what it’s like to finally live in this planet.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 2961 words

Warning: injury, torture, swearing, violence

Note: SORRY I DIDN’T EDIT. I wanted to post it as soon as I was done. I’ll take my time and retouch it whenever I have the chance. 

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Slowly, I opened my eyes; we were back on the beach where Floukru took us. Although I was highly suspicious on how they managed to carry us all the way back without waking us up while we were sleeping, I didn’t really care much. We were back to square one.

‘We need to go back and convince Luna.’ Clarke stated as she sat up.

Octavia shook her head, 'She literally kicked us out. Do you really think she wants to cooperate with us after we got some of her people killed including her boyfriend?’

'We need to get back to Arkadia and see if our friends are okay.’ Bellamy suggested. 'Then we can plan from there.’

'Sounds good to me.’ Jasper agreed.

Clarke huffed, 'Guys, this is our only choice. We need Luna to side with us.’

'It’s over, Clarke. We ruined our chances with her. We’re lucky she didn’t kill us.’ I implied.

With a straight face, she turned and walked into the woods. A sigh escaped from Bellamy’s mouth as he tailed Clarke. As I watched them get further into the woods, I rolled my eyes.

'Jealous, much?’ Jasper chuckled as he saw my facial expression.

My first instinct was to pick up a pebble and throw it at his stomach. I had slight jealousy that Bellamy cared to check up on Clarke but I was more annoyed at her disagreeing with everyone.

Jasper stared at the pebble that bounced off his stomach. 'I guess that’s a yes.’

'Shut up. Let’s just charge the rover while we wait for them.’

In the corner of my eye, I saw Octavia laugh lightly. Perhaps my reaction was intense than I intended.

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Couple minutes have passed and I heard footsteps coming this way. Clarke and Bellamy came back from the woods but they weren’t alone; They had Roan as hostage.

'Woah, is th-’ Jasper gasped but Clarke cut him off.

‘The man that bounty hunted me to take back to Azgeda when I left Camp Jaha? Yep.’ Clarke approached us while holding onto Roan’s arm.  ‘Luckily, he wants what we want. Ontari, the other nightblood to take the flame.’

'After Luna declining the offer, she’s our only shot. We first need a plan to remove the A.L.I.E chip out of her first.’ Bellamy added.

Being skeptical about this situation, I slowly stepped forward. ‘How can we trust him?’

'Y/N’s right.’ Octavia agreed as she pulled out her sword and stabbed Roan in his thigh.

Roan groaned in pain, kneeling down on the ground. ‘Are you serious?’

‘We had to make sure you weren’t chipped.’ Octavia smirked. ‘Let’s get moving, shall we?’

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

As I parked the rover into the garage of Arkadia, everyone hopped off. Raven walked by and greeted me with open arms. ‘Glad you’re back safely.’

‘Well, the harder part starts now. We’re going to Polis.’

‘Are you guys out of your mind? You guys are going to get yourselves killed or worse.’

‘It’s a risk I’m willing to take.’ I looked into Raven’s eyes. Before walking away from my sister, she yelled my name. 'Raven, you can’t change my mind.’

‘I know you won’t, so stubborn.’ She lightly chuckled. ‘But I’m doing everything on my end to shut A.L.I.E down. Be careful out there sis.’

Smiling back at her, Jasper wrapped his arm my shoulder. ‘Would you guys mind if I stay here with you guys?’

‘Nope, Bryan and Miller are headed to Polis so we’ll need all the help we can get.’ Raven replied. ‘Also Y/N, don’t forget the EMP device that destroys the chip. It’s only one use so use it wisely.’

Jasper turned his face to me and grinned, 'Make sure you guys come back in one piece.’

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

On our way to Polis in the Rover, Miller questioned. ‘So what’s the plan to get into Polis?’

‘We can have Roan pretend to take me as prisoner to go talk to Ontari. I have the passphrase for the flame so she would want to talk to me.’ Clarke suggested.

‘Maybe I should go instead and not you, Clarke.’ I considered.

Quickly, Bellamy denied harshly as he drove the Rover. ‘No. You don’t even know the passphrase.’

‘Actually, I do. I sometimes hear Clarke talking to Lexa on the flame and I overheard the passphrase several times. Besides, she knows how to get around Polis. That can benefit you guys if she comes along.’

Bellamy stopped the Rover and turned around. ‘Why do you keep doing this?’

‘Doing what?’ I can tell that Bellamy was highly opposed to this idea, he seemed really angry yet worried.

‘Always trying to play the hero?’

‘Bell, as much as I agree that Y/N does a lot for us, you know this idea is probably the best solution that we have right now?’ Octavia jumped in.

Clarke slowly nodded, ‘I agree. I know some passage ways that a lot of people in Polis doesn’t know about that Lexa used.’

Sighing out of frustration, he got out of the Rover and slammed the door as he walked straight into the woods. Rolling my eyes, I got out of the Rover and followed him. ‘Where are you going?’

Bellamy stopped and turned around. ‘I-I don’t know. I’m just mad.’

‘Do you think that I like it when you put yourself in danger too?’ I said as I held onto his hand. ‘I’m always scared that someone’s going to hurt you.’

‘Reyes, you don’t have to worry about me.’

‘And you don’t have to worry about me either but we do it anyway.’ I laughed lightly as I gripped his hand for comfort.

He sighed, ‘I just hate this. Us always risking ourselves to save people. I hate the feeling I get when I think I’m going to lose you.’

‘This is our life now and we have to do what it takes to protect our people.’ I smiled lightly as I grabbed onto his cheek. 'But I promise you, I’ll be sticking around for a very long time.’

Bellamy chuckled, 'That’s very fortunate for me then.’

A cough distracted us; We quickly turned around and saw that everyone was starring awkwardly. Bellamy scratched the back of his head, 'Damn, can we have a little privacy?’

'Yeah, maybe after we save everyone.’ Octavia joked.

Clarke approaches me, sticking her hand out. 'This is probably a good distance to walk to Polis. Also, here’s the flame. I trust you to keep it safe.’

'Of course I will.’ I smiled at her as she handed it to me. 'I’ll see you guys on the other side.’

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

With a rope tied around my hand, Roan held onto the end of the rope as he guided me into Polis. Trying to get Ontari’s attention, Roan screamed, 'I have the flame!’

Jaha popped out of nowhere with a huge grin on his face. 'Do you honestly think we’re stupid?’

'Y/N has the passphrase and I have the flame. All you need to do is take us to Ontari.’ Roan implied.

'She’s not coming.’ Jaha crossed his arms, 'Our friend, Jasper told us about your little plan.’

Everything made perfect sense now; People from Floukru were getting chipped because of Jasper. My heart started racing as I thought about the danger my sister and my friends were in. I was also terrified for Bellamy and the others; I hoped that they didn’t get caught.

'It’s over.’ Jaha chuckled devilishly as he saw my facial expression. 'Kane, finish him.’

Marcus approached us from behind while he gripped his gun. After pulling the trigger and shooting Roan, he grabbed onto my arm tightly.

'Don’t do this, I know you’re in there somewhere.’ I figured that Marcus was chipped and it scared me that now he was capable of hurting me.

He ignored and pulled me, leading me up to the building. On the top of the building, Abby waited for me with a cheeky grin on her face.

Marcus tied me up to a chair and handed Abby the flame. She then looked down at me, 'Y/N, what’s the passphrase?’

'You really think I’m going to tell you?’ I chuckled.

'Alright. I can bring Clarke up here and ask her myself.’

A smile formed on my face, 'Nice try, I changed the passphrase before I got here. No one knows it but me.’

Abby huffed, showing frustration then pulled a knife out and stabbed me on my arm. A loud scream escaped my mouth; I didn’t see it coming.

'Tell me now. I’ll stab you again.’

'No.’ She showed no mercy and stabbed me once again on my other arm. I cried in pain but I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

'I’ve got a better idea.’ She looked over at Marcus and smiled. 'Marcus, go hang yourself. This should make her talk.’

Panic flushed all over my body as I saw Marcus grab a rope. 'Don’t do this, please.’

He continued to ignore me shouting his name as if he didn’t hear anything. Marcus set up the rope and then wrapped it around his neck.

'Marcus!’ I yelled, seeing Abby’s smirk on her face from the corner of my eye made me angrier.

Kicking the stool from under him, he started choking as grabbed onto his neck.

Tears fell from my eyes as I continued to call out his name. There were so many tears to a point where I couldn’t see anything in front of me.

My mind knew that I was doing the right thing; telling Abby the passphrase would lead to the end of the world. I also didn’t want Marcus dying in front of me and the only person to blame was me.

Suddenly, a huge bang came from the door. From the other side, I heard Bellamy scream my name as they continued to bang on the door.

Before Abby was able to take action, the door barged open. Making eye contact with Bellamy, I screamed at him. 'Save Marcus, please.’

He had a worried look on his face but he immediately helped Marcus and untied him. Seeing someone approach me from the other side, I turned to that direction; it was John.

'Hey Y/N. Long time, no see.’ John smiled lightly as he untied the rope off of my wrist.

'It’s good to see you again.’ I hugged him tightly, 'I was afraid something bad happened to you.’

He grinned, 'Nothing bad will ever happen to me.’

'Jaha!’ Clarke yelled as she sprinted towards him. John followed her to see what had happened. Ontari laid lifelessly on the ground.

'Now you can’t use her anymore.’ Jaha chuckled just as John knocked him out, unconscious.

'Clarke, help me take him to the other room.’ John said nonchalantly.

She looked over at her mother, who she had to take care of. 'What about my mom?’

'We’ll figure it out but we have to tie Jaha up first. Now help.’ John commanded.

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

'She has brain damage.’ Abby diagnosed Ontari as she checked on her. Clarke successfully got her back by destroying the chip using Raven’s EMP system.

Pike, John and Bellamy rushed into the room after coming back from tying Jaha and Marcus up. My eyes meet with Pike as he walked in; all I can do was glare at him.

‘I’m sorry, Reyes.’ Pike felt the stern look from my expression.

Ignoring him, I got back to the important details. ‘Is the floor secure for us to stay here?’

John looked over at us and nodded, ‘There’s no way the others have access to the stairs but the problem is we can’t go back down.’

‘No need to go back down. We have everything we need right here.’ Clarke said.

‘What do you mean?’ Abby asked.

‘I’m taking the flame. We need a nightblood host so we can transport Ontari’s blood into me. We have all the tools and I know it will work.’

Abby shook her head, ‘Clarke, it’s too dange-’

Octavia ran towards us as she interrupted Abby. ‘Guys, we need to be quick. They’re all climbing the building.’

My eyes widened as I dashed to the balcony to peeked outside; hundreds of the chipped victims were on their way to terminate us.

‘We’ll slow them down as much as we can. Clarke, do your thing.’ Octavia pulled her sword out. ‘Y/N, come with me.’

I nodded and followed Octavia to a different room and headed straight to the balcony. We stood by the ledge as we watched our people slowly climbing up towards us. ‘Do you think Clarke can reach the City of Lights and find what she needs to stop A.L.I.E?’

‘Damn, I hope so or we’re screwed.’ I replied back. Looking over at Octavia, I could tell that she was bothered and I knew exactly what it was about. ‘For now, you need let go of that pain. We have to focus on this, not Pike.’

‘It’s so hard watching him and hiding my urge to kill him.’ Octavia blurted. ‘I don’t know how you do it.’

‘Just turn your anger into motivation. You taught me that, O.’

She sighed, I can tell that she wasn’t satisfied with my answer and I didn’t blame her. I wanted Pike gone just as much as she did.

Octavia gripped on her sword tightly. ‘Let’s get ready, they’re climbing fast.’

As I pulled out my pistol, I backed up and held onto the gun grip. Couple of the people I recognized from Arkadia climbed over the balcony. I took a deep breath and mouthed, “Sorry.”

Pulling the trigger, I shot one right in it’s knee as it collapsed to the ground. Then I shot the other one right afterwards and making him fall as well. After a few hits to the others who climbed over, my ammo was gone.

‘I’m out.’ I yelled as I drew my knife out and stabbed one of the chipped guards on his thigh.

‘We need to barricade this room.’ Octavia said as she pulled out the sword from the woman’s body.

Quickly, we sprinted out of the room and slammed the door shut. Carrying the closest and heaviest furniture we can find, we stacked them up against the door. Bellamy, Pike and Miller soon approached us and started helping us pile up chairs.

There was a sudden bang from the door; The others were pushing through to break the barricade. All five of us put out backs against the furniture, trying to hold the door down to give Clarke more time to find the switch to shut down A.L.I.E.

‘Do you think this is going to hold?’ Miller growled.

‘I guess we will find out.’ Pike said.

The banging became harder and harder since all the people who were climbing worked their way to the top already. My thighs and arms were starting to get painful the longer we tried to keep the door closed.

‘We need to move somewhere else.’ Octavia shouted over the loud banging.

‘Octavia’s right. They’re going to burst through.’ Bellamy agreed. ‘Let’s head back to Clarke, Abby and Murphy.’

All of us bolted back to the original room and noticed Clarke was still unconscious. Bellamy took a deep breath as he got on the ground with the gun on his hand. ‘Guys, this is it.’

‘Good luck guys.’ Abby said as she continued to work on Clarke with John.

I stood between Bellamy and Pike, gripping onto my knife tightly. The door busted open and revealed many chipped, angry people coming to get us.

Blood and sweat flew around the room, where we were fighting our own people. It pained me to hurt the people we once lived with but we had to do what was right in the long run.

As I finished off couple of people, I saw Marcus stomping towards me. He was the last person I ever wanted to see in this battlefield, especially right in front of me.

The knife was with me but it seemed that I couldn’t use it on him. Before I reacted to anything, he grabbed onto my neck tightly and shoved me to the ground.

I slowly started to lose air and my head started feeling very light. My grip weakened as my knife fell of my hand. I tried to whisper but I was running out of breath, ‘Marcus…’

‘Y/N!’ Bellamy screamed, pinned down by three people. He tried to move around but the others refused to let him go.

Hearing Bellamy, Octavia and the rest of us scream in pain, I lost hope. I knew that it was about time but suddenly, Marcus let go of me. His eyes then widened as he saw what he had done to me. ‘I-I’m so sorry.’

Breathing hard, I sat up and tried to catch my breath. Marcus kneeled close to me as tears streamed from his eyes. He apologized over and over again, even when his voice was cracked from crying. I hugged him tightly and told him that everything was fine and it wasn’t his fault.

Abby came between us and rubbed Marcus’ back, reassuring him. I stood up and left them give some time to talk. Seeing Clarke finally awake and well, I approached her. ‘You did it.’

‘No, we did it.’ Clarke smiled.

A touch on my arm made me turn around and I noticed that it was Bellamy standing behind me. Without a word, he pulled me in and kissed me. Not caring about anybody else in the room, I kissed him back.

‘I’m so glad you’re okay.’ he smiled as he pulled away.

‘I’ll always be fine, I told you.’ I giggled as I wiped blood off of his face. ‘We can face anything, together.’

Season of the Witch AU

I just recently watched this movie, and today I started thinking that it could be some kind of fun au? 

Stiles would be the witch, obviously. 

Mitch is the criminal that gets freed on the condition that he acts as a guide. I think a thief and a mercenary. “I don’t believe in magic,” Mitch tells Stiles, when Stiles asks if Mitch is afraid of him. Of all of them, he’s the only one not afraid to get closest to Stiles’ cage. He’s just a weak child, what can he do? (A lot, he could kill them all if he wanted to. Lucky for them he doesn’t.) Stiles only smiles and asks, “Who is Katrina?” Mitch is perturbed, but chalks it up to Stiles overhearing him, or talking in his sleep. It’s not solid proof of magic. 

“Do you think they’ll give me a fair trial?” Stiles asks. Derek promised him one.  “Nothing about these people is fair,” Mitch responds. 

Derek and Peter are the ones sent to bring Stiles to justice. Former Templars who deserted when the gravity of what they were doing dawned on them. The best warriors in the army, no one dared try to stop them. Derek joined to repent for the loss of his family, which he blames himself for. Peter says he joined because the church promised to forgive all sins - and he has many - but really it was to make sure Derek didn’t foolishly get himself killed. He never cared for the religious side of things, but he does believe in magic. He’s seen things that can’t be explained. Stiles healed the phantom pain of his burns that have plagued him for ten years with only a touch. 

Scott is the well-meaning squire that follows after them, hoping to get knighted upon their return. He is a kind boy that is much too friendly towards Stiles. If he’s not careful, he’ll end up the witch’s next victim, Derek warns. Scott is kind and talkative and befriends Stiles-from a distance. Tells him things that no witch should ever be told, because it gives him too much power. 

As Mitch gets to know Stiles, he starts to second-guess sending him to his death. Because it doesn’t matter what Derek promised, Stiles will never see a fair trial for witchcraft. He will be hanged and drowned before this is over, or burned. (Even Peter flinches at that, it’s a fate he would wish on no one.) Guilt is not something Mitch has felt for a long time. It takes him a while to identify it now, Katrina would be disappointed him. 

One night Mitch decides to follow his instincts and free Stiles. It’s nothing to take the key off Peter, Mitch is a very good pickpocket. But rather than going with him, Stiles shouts for the others, says that Mitch tried to hurt him, that Mitch was going to kill him. And Mitch doesn’t know what Stiles is doing, he’s trying to save the fool! But Stiles doesn’t want to be saved. A fight ensues and everyone is yelling and it's chaos, and Mitch gets killed in the midst of it. The last thing he sees is Stiles smirking, hands wrapped around the bars of his prison and watching them all hungrily. It took barely any effort from him at all. 

They move on. It’s difficult without their guide, but they’ve made it through the worst of the journey. Everyone is tense, and not even Scott will talk to Stiles. He can still feel Mitch’s blood on his hands, was the one to kill him because he was afraid for Stiles. The first life he’s taken. 

“You saved me,” Stiles soothes, reaching out to him. Scott shies away.  “I don’t know what he would have done, but I could see the hate in his eyes. He blamed me for what happened to his lover. I didn’t even know her. There was no other way. You saved me, Scott.” Scott has to stop to be sick, rides ahead of the cart with Derek, leaving Peter to pull up the rear. 

Peter is not nearly as trusting as Scott, or as callous as Mitch. He is more cautious around Stiles, doesn’t know the full extent of his capabilities but knows he is more than he appears. Stiles only drops the act around him, because Peter never bought it for a second. 

“How did you get your burns?” Stiles asks. 

“You tell me, little witch.”

“I think it was something heroic. You tried to save someone, didn’t you?” Stiles presses up against the bars, his eyes searching. “Was it a witch? Your lover or your sister? Or was it your daughter?”

“It was my family. Someone tried to burn them all for being monsters.” 

Stiles tsks. “Poor Derek, he never did learn how to see past the mask to what’s hiding underneath. Not that you can blame him, a pretty face is enough o fool most men.” 

Peter, ever the schemer, knows how to recognize a plot. He knows that Stiles is up to something, is almost certain he was lying about what happened with Mitch. But there was too much going on, everything so unclear, to realize it at the time. Now he is suspicious, doesn’t want to continue on until he finds out what Stiles’ angle is. 

It’s nothing to begin Peter’s descent into madness. Ever since the fire he’s already been halfway there. All it takes is an illusion here and there to fully cement it. It’s delicious to watch Derek have to kill the last remaining member of his family. 

“It was mercy,” Stiles consoles after Derek buries his uncle’s body. “He was no longer the man you remembered. The real Peter wouldn’t have wanted to continue on like that.” 

“Shut up, witch, or I’ll kill you myself.” Stiles doesn’t believe the threat for a second. Derek is too noble, he wouldn’t kill a defenseless boy. Scott is afraid but unwilling to challenge either of them, still believes that Stiles can be saved. His soul, if not his body. It’s sickening how he believes that good will triumph over evil, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Just on this journey alone Stiles is leaving a trail of bodies. If the priests are to be believed, his death toll number in the hundreds of thousands, the source of the plague ravaging the country. If Derek won't kill him for all of them, he won’t kill Stiles for his uncle. 

They make it to the abby. All of the monks are dead, have been for weeks. It’s clear that something more is going on here. 

Scott and Derek find the book they came for, and attempt to perform the ritual that will end this curse, but it doesn’t work. It’s Scott who realizes that Stiles is no witch, he is something more. Something much worse. 

Derek fights the demon while Scott performs the exorcism to the best of his ability. Enraged at the audacity, tosses Derek aside like a ragdoll and goes for him. He doesn’t care about this humans, all he wants is that book. He has spent centuries destroying all copies of the one thing that can hurt him, and this is the last one. 

In the end, they scrape through by the skin of their teeth. The demonis exorcised and Stiles is left in it’s place, traumatized but alive. Derek and Scott are as well, barely. Stiles takes the book and they get far away from this place. Scott gives up any interest in knighthood, and Derek lays down his sword. Stiles just wants to find a home and peace, and that sounds like a great idea. They return the way they came, pay their respects to the dead. Guilt eats at Stiles, and there is nothing he can do to repent. 

Scott returns home to his mother to train instead as a physician, Derek and Stiles find a cottage in the countryside with a garden and some sheep and a few goats and chickens. Stiles dedicates his life to making as many copies of the holy text as he can so that if the demon ever comes back, it can be defeated again. Every major church in Europe is given one. 

Fuel for Disaster- Chapter 1

Summary: Simon Snow only wanted to be Baz’s fake boyfriend to get back at his extremely homophobic father. That was the only reason (and to find out what he was plotting).

It wasn’t like he was actually going to fall in love with him.

Comments: Thank you so much to @dragonsandgayvampires and @abbie-the-unicorn for editing this! I’ve been desperate for a Snowbaz fake dating AU so here we are

Trigger Warning: Homophobia

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

read it on ao3

“I just don’t understand, Basil.” A voice says from behind the door.

“Don’t understand what?” Baz roars. Simon has never heard Baz roar. Baz might be a self centered prick, but he always kept his emotions in check. Simon could get him pretty riled up, but never like this. 

Maybe it would be better if there was some context. There’s a week every year at Watford where parents are allowed to come and visit the students to see how things are going. Typically, only first years ever really got a visit, but something seemed to have piqued Baz’s dad’s interest that caused him to pay a visit. 

Honestly, Simon shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Something about this conversation seemed too personal, Baz didn't even seem to share his secrets with his friends. Were Dev and Niall his friends? Baz doesn’t seem to treat them that way.... 

“Why you would choose this! You know how important presentation is to this family.” Baz scoffs. 

“Being gay is not a choice!” Yep, definitely way too personal. Simon should leave. He really should. 

“You just haven’t found the right girl yet, Baz,” Baz’s dad says, sounding almost annoyed. And tired, as if this was a conversation they had many times before. Simon could practically hear Baz’s nostrils flare through the door. He even saw it in his mind, with his perfect brows drawn together angrily. The look in his grey eyes would be absolutely vicious, like a viper rearing back to bite. 

“Father. I am seventeen. When are you going to realize that this isn’t a phase?” The tone of Baz’s voice... it’s so dejected. He sounds like he’s lost all hope, like he’s drowning. He sounds like he’s been drowning for years, calling out for help but nobody has ever come. 

“Baz. I don’t know what kind of teenage rebellion you think this is, but you are never, under any circumstances, going to have a boyfriend.” There’s a moment of tense silence. Simon knows what Baz is doing. He’s calculating his best move. 

“Try and stop me, father. Just. Try.” 

Simon is about to turn away and leave when the door bursts open. In the doorway is Baz’s dad. 

Baz’s dad is a whole new brand of terrifying. Honestly, Simon isn’t too surprised considering Baz, but Baz’s dad holds something even more unsettling. Simon’s heart pounds in his chest. 

“Simon Snow,” He says, sounding disinterested. Simon squeaks, but he never gets to stutter out a reply. Mr. Grimm-Pitch pushes past him, walking down the hall as if nothing happened. As if he hadn’t just gotten in a huge argument with his son. 

Simon walks into the room, not sure what to expect. Somehow he was both surprised and not surprised to find Baz with a bored expression on his face as he opened a book. It was almost  as if the conversation didn’t phase him. Honestly, Simon started to wonder if it was even real. 

Simon had a tendency to get himself into messes, which may have led him to where he’s at now, pulling at his curls as a crazy plot brews in his head. 

A few hours later, after Baz had left to go do vampire things and came back to find Simon “sleeping,” the sniffles began to start. 

At first, Simon wasn’t sure he was hearing correctly. Eight years, and he’s never heard Baz cry once. It had to be in his head. 

But then the sniffles came again, and Simon knew that he wasn’t imagining it. 

“Baz are you crying?” Simon tries not to sound like he’s mocking him, but his voice sounds so indifferent that Baz takes it the wrong way. 

“Fuck off, Snow.” Simon sits up on his bed, reaching over to turn on a lamp. He grunts at the way the light stings his eyes. 

Baz is facing away from Simon, all scrunched up in a ball. His shoulders are hunched and his hair is a disaster. He looks so unlike Baz. He looks so vulnerable. 

“Hey,” Simon says, hitting Baz lightly with a pillow. That gets him to sit up. He flashes Simon the most vicious glare, but it doesn’t really work when his eyes are so red and puffy. 

“What do you want, Snow?” Baz sounds tired.  “What’s wrong?” Simon says seriously. Baz looks down, kicking his feet against his bed, a frown on his face.  “It’s none of your business,” Baz snaps.  “Course it is! I’m your roommate and you’re crying!”  “Since when do you care?” Baz hisses viciously. Simon groans.  “Merlin why are you such a prick?” Silence falls across the room. Baz isn’t crying anymore, but Simon still doesn’t want to leave this alone.  “Is this about your dad?” Baz’s head whips up so fast that Simon isn’t sure how he didn’t break it.  “What?” Simon leans back a little. He probably should stop. It’s not a good idea to piss off your deadly, evil, vampire roommate. But his brain doesn’t seem to be getting the message.  “I overheard you and your dad arguing earlier.” Baz sneers, like he isn’t bothered by that. But after years of looking for any emotion in Baz’s eyes, Simon knows that it’s bothering him a lot more than he’s letting on.  “So what, Snow? You’re going to spread rumors that I’m gay as well as a vampire?” Baz doesn’t even sound scared. He just sounds done.  “What— no. No that’s not what I—“ Baz huffs, standing up. He starts to make for the door, but Simon darts up and blocks his path.  “I wouldn’t do that,” Simon says, looking Baz in the eye. They’re close. They’ve been this close before, but for some reason this feels more intimate. It causes a blush to rise up into Simon’s cheeks.  “What do you want from me, Snow?” Baz says, crossing his arms. Simon doesn’t know what he wants.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Simon’s voice drops low. Baz’s lowers to match.  “Tell you what? That I’m gay? That my father is a homophobic arsehole? That he doesn’t think I can find a boyfriend that will actually love me? Crowley Snow, these are things I’d prefer not to share with my half-wit roommate.”  “I’m sorry.”  “Sorry for what, Snow?” Baz says, sounding exasperated. Simon straightens, pulling himself up to his fullest hight. It doesn’t help, though. Baz is still taller.  “I’m sorry your father’s an arsehole. He doesn’t have any right to hate you because of who you’re attracted to.”  “Thanks Snow.” Baz doesn’t sound thankful. He just sounds pissed off.  Simon sighs, stepping aside. Baz glares at him, then walks swiftly out the door, shutting it behind him.  Simon sinks into his bed, his thoughts filling with Baz (which wasn’t too abnormal). 

In the care homes, there were sometimes boys and girls who would come in after being kicked out of the place they called home for so long. They were the kindest and sweetest people, but everyone always judged them. They were judged because they liked guys instead of girls and girls instead of guys and everything in-between. They were tossed aside because they felt like more of a guy than a girl or a girl than a guy. They were rejected, just like Simon, because they were different.  And Simon hated it. He hated that Baz was going through the same thing with his father. He hated how much it made Baz lose all of his control.  Simon hated to admit it, but he hated how heartbroken Baz sounded. Like he actually believed his father when he said a boy would never love him like that (especially considering Baz was, well, Baz).  Simon sat straight up in his bed, his eyes wide. It was crazy, and definitely would probably get him into trouble later. He wasn’t even sure if Baz would agree, but maybe, maybe....  Maybe it was time to prove Baz’s dad wrong. 

Baz was hoping he’d walk in to the room to find Simon sleeping soundly without a care in the world, but he should’ve known better than to hope. Simon was frustratingly stubborn and apparently this was something that bothered him enough to wait up. In any other situation, Baz may have felt touched, his idiotic feelings going wild, but right now he just wanted to let it go. 

“Baz,” Simon says, looking at a loss. And also adorable. Merlin, why was he always so adorable?  Baz raises an eyebrow.  “That is my name.” Baz hopes he looks as cool and collected as he thinks he does as he looks down at Simon.  “I had an idea.”  “Brilliant. Try not to kill me while you’re at it,” Baz says, tugging off his shoes. Simon scrunches his hands in his curls.  “I think I know how to get back at your father.” Baz huffs, sitting down on his bed.  “Snow, I’m not interested in—“  “I’ll be your boyfriend.” Baz isn’t sure he heard Simon correctly. His vampire senses allowed him to hear a lot more than a normal person, but in no universe would Simon Snow ever want to be Baz’s boyfriend.  “What?” Simon stands, walking over to Baz’s bed. Baz’s breath hitches as Simon sits down.  “You’re going home for Christmas, right?”  “Yes?” Simon is shifting anxiously and his magic is pouring out of him. Baz almost takes him by the shoulders and tells him to breathe, but he doesn’t.  “How about you invite me over for Christmas and I pretend to be your boyfriend to prove your father wrong.” Simon Snow is an absolute idiot. Why did Baz like him so much?  “And how do you propose we do that?” Simon huffs, pulling at his hair even more. His curls are thoroughly rumpled.  “Your dad said that you could never be in love with a boy and that a boy could never be in love with you, right?” Baz looks at him suspiciously.  “Right...”  “So... we prove him wrong by acting like we’re in love.”

“Snow... we’re enemies. You’re the Mage’s foster son who has been out to get the families since as long as I can remember. Plus, I don’t take you to be that great of an actor.” 

“I can pretend to be in love with you.”  “Sure, Snow. And you can ace all your classes without Bunce.” Simon glares.  “I can.” Baz’s lip curls.  “Prove it.” Something shifts in Simon’s expression. Suddenly he’s moving closer to Baz and Baz feels his heart stutter in his chest. He twines his fingers through Baz’s, smiling up at him with the dopiest grin Baz has ever seen. For a moment, Baz thinks Simon might kiss him and he feels like he can’t breathe.  “Baz,” Simon says, smiling a little when he says his name. He whispers it like it’s a secret that he only wants Baz to hear. It makes Baz’s head is buzzing and he feels like Simon is about to go off, filling the room with his magic and making everyone feel drunk. Except he isn’t drunk on Simon’s magic.

“You look really pretty tonight.” Merlin and Morgana this is going to be terrible.

Simon must be better at this whole flirting thing than he thought.

That was odd to think about. Him, flirting with Baz. Simon didn’t even like guys, but he sure as hell was making Baz blush the tiniest.

“AHA! You’re blushing!” Simon says, sounding proud. Baz scowls at him, but a light pink dusts his cheeks.

“That’s moronic, Snow.” Simon snorts.

“Admit it, Baz. I’m a good flirt.”

“What you are is an idiot.” Baz won’t look at Simon directly and that’s all it takes for Simon to know that he’s won this argument.

“But…” Baz sighs, letting go of Simon’s hands. Simon forgot that he was holding him. “Maybe you are a little better than I anticipated.”

 “Did THE Basilton Grimm-Pitch just admit that he was wrong?” Baz glares at Simon, who bursts out in laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.  Baz scowls.

 “You done?” He says when Simon finally calms down. Simon takes a deep breath.

 “Do we have a deal?” Baz’s nostrils flare.

 “Why are you doing this, Snow. You have nothing to gain.” But Simon had everything to gain. He got to prove a bully wrong and maybe get close enough to Baz to find out what he was plotting.

 Thinking about it now, Simon was starting to think that was the real reason. If he kept close, maybe he could figure Baz out. Maybe he could understand what he’s plotting.

 “Because I want to. I don’t have anywhere to go for the holidays anyways.” Baz takes a deep breath.

 “Fine.” Simon doesn’t know why this makes him so happy. He feels his heart swell as he smiles widely. At first he thinks it might be a mistake, but when the pink tinge comes back to Baz’s cheeks, well, Simon decides to count it as a win.

familiar stranger (strange family)

leave all pretense of realism at the door pls here’s a thing

“It’s only two hours,” Neil says.

If looks could kill, he probably would collapse on the floor right here and then. Aaron only stops glaring daggers at him to bury his head back in the toilet seat.

“Why is he even here,” he asks after dry-heaving for a minute. “Go away.”

Neil rolls his eyes so far back that Andrew can see the whites. He pushes at Neil’s arm gently in direction of the door: Neil is Neil, and Andrew trusts him, but this isn’t the kind of situation he’s helpful in.

“I’m just saying,” Neil says, “you’ve played full Exy games through worse—”

“You’re starting to sound like Kevin,” Andrew tells him.

“Sometimes he’s right.”

Something hits the wall a good foot left of Neil’s head and Andrew turns back to his brother’s prostrate body.  

“Leave,” Aaron all but growls.

“I hope you throw up on yourself,” Neil snaps, but he steps outside.

Andrew waits until he can hear the suite door opening and closing, then he steps closer to his brother, reaching for the glass sitting on the sink.

“Drink,” he says, thrusting the glass at Aaron once he looks up.

“This is Matt’s.”

“I’ll wash it.”

Aaron spills a little down his shirt as he takes a long sip, closing his eyes against another bout of nausea. Andrew swipes his phone from the vanity, quickly enters the password he’s learned a long time ago, and pulls up the browser. He dislikes having to see the background picture of a certain smiling cheerleader, but his own flip phone doesn’t come with internet access. The phone buzzes; Andrew swipes away the text notification when he sees the name of the sender. Aaron even added a heart after her name; this is an unfortunate depth of sappiness Andrew hadn’t predicted.

“What are you doing?” Aaron protests when he hears the buzz. They both know Andrew has never taken his phone off silent. “Give me that.”

“Drink and shut up.”

The first site he checks is unhelpful; they advise deep breathing to fight off nausea and drinking water to prevent dehydration. He nudges Aaron’s thigh with his foot. “Small sips.”

As if to prove him right, Aaron vomits back up the long gulps of water he’s just drank.

“I’m calling Abby,” Andrew says. “You’re not going to that final.”

If possible, Aaron looks even more panicked. “No, I have to go.”

“With a bucket?”

“Powell hates athletes, he’s been waiting all year for an opportunity to fail me. He won’t accept a note from Abby.”

“Tragic,” Andrew says, composing the number.

Aaron’s hand on his wrist stops him. “Andrew.”

Andrew jerks away but locks the phone. He meets his brother’s gaze, crumpled on the floor next to the toilet, his face sweaty and ashen gray. It’s a familiar sight: it brings back up memories of long days spent outside the bathroom at Tilda’s, before Nicky got them away from the place. It seems they always go back to this: silent show of support and hard-won care.

“Andrew,” Aaron says again.

Their high school years were a blur of barely restrained hostility and ambiguous protection, but Andrew also remembers what having a twin felt like; the invisibility of looking exactly like another person, the usefulness of it all.

“No.”

The word is final. Like more and more often, Aaron doesn’t care. “You have to,” he insists.

“Have to nothing,” Andrew tells him. “This does not benefit me.”

“If I’m held back, you’ll graduate without me. I know Powell will do everything in his power to fail me even at the makeup test.”

He’s learned where to strike. Unbelievably, Andrew can feel his resolve crumbling under the what-ifs.

“I’m not a Biochem student.”

Andrew’s specialty is crime and violence. He doesn’t care about the intricacies of the human body he’s damaged time and time again, others’ or his own.

“My notes are on my desk,” Aaron insists. “You have four hours. It’ll just be a multiple-choice quiz, he told us.”

Andrew’s mind is already drafting a pro or con list. He can recognize the battle he’s lost.

“Call the cheerleader,” he tells Aaron, chucking his phone at him. “You need saltines and water, and I don’t have time to baby you.”

Aaron’s head whips up, the look on his face surprised. Andrew inwardly scoffs. He should know better by now only to try and fight battles he knows he can win.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Take a shower,” is Andrew’s sole response.

Andrew settles on the couch with Aaron’s thick pile of notes. He knows his brother’s handwriting almost as well as his own, as well as his note-taking habits. The information is always clearly presented, easy to read and grasp. Easier even to retain, for someone like Andrew.

She knocks on the door thirty minutes after he’s left Aaron in the bathroom. The water has cut off a few minutes ago, but apart from one sound of retching, Aaron has yet to make any noise or an indication that he’s leaving the room any time soon.

“I brought medicine and crackers,” she says when he opens the door.

She has the good sense not to smile at him.

“Don’t talk to me,” Andrew warns her. “He’s in the bathroom.”

She goes without another word, returns soon for plastic bags and a bottle of water, then Aaron slowly inches out of the bathroom into the bedroom, and she closes the door on them.

Andrew goes back to the stack of notes he’s learning. Aaron’s final is early in the afternoon; since Matt called them in when he left for one of his own, it leaves the entire morning for Andrew to try and learn three years’ worth of a subject he doesn’t take. Luckily, he has Aaron’s textbooks for any concept he might not know, and good memory of the course he had to take in freshman year for his gen eds.

Matt comes back sometime around ten, followed closely by Dan. Andrew checks the time. Neil should be going for his last final soon.

“How’s he?” Matt says when he sees Andrew.

Dan, always more suspicious of her players called Minyard, asks: “What are you doing?”

“Bedroom,” Andrew tells them, checking his phone.

A message from Neil, timestamped from five minutes ago: I’m going now. See you for lunch?

Aaron’s final starts at one, Andrew sends back. Neil will understand.

Don’t make him do too well.

“Oh, fuck,” Dan says, leaning over the couch to look at Aaron’s notes. “Andrew, you’re not serious.”

“Go away.”

“If you get caught—”

“It’s not your team anymore,” Andrew reminds her, because they lost against the Trojans in semis two weeks ago.

“What’s happening?”

“Andrew is going to fill in for Aaron. Andrew, I know you don’t care about legality, but you do know the consequences of you getting caught, right? You’ll both be kicked out, at the very least.”

“Funny,” Andrew says, “he didn’t seem to mind when he asked me earlier. Now go away.”

Dan swears violently, and trudges into the bedroom.

“Babe,” Matt calls, jogging behind her. “He’s really not well—”

The door closes on the rest of their conversation. Aaron’s state must have weakened Dan’s anger; by the time they come out of the bedroom, she’s calmed enough to leave the suite without talking to Andrew.

It’s not like Andrew minds.

When the clock hits half an hour before the start of the exam, Andrew’s had time to read all of Aaron’s notes twice. He feels confident, if only because it’s the only way he knows how to feel for accomplishments he’s set his mind to. He’ll walk in the room, take the test, get Aaron to pass, and come home to collapse on his bed with Neil, who’s been far too stressed lately. Neil’s not the best student, mostly because he never learned how to study, and the weight of Exy in regards of his academical results is too heavy for him to ignore.

Luckily for Andrew, he doesn’t care.

He goes into the bedroom to look for Aaron’s book bag, putting in the notes and too many pens. Aaron always prepares for the worst on exam days. He adds a bottle of water and swaps his phone for Aaron’s.

The whole time, Aaron lies in his bed and watches him without speaking.

“Clothes,” Andrew asks.

“Left side of the closet.”

They dress mostly alike, in dark colors and heavy fabrics, but Andrew leaves behind his armbands, too recognizable, and his boots. Aaron favors lighter shoes, black high tops with dirty white soles. He parts his hair the way Aaron does, lower on the side. He doesn’t have to hide his natural look anymore: without the manic grin, their expressions are similar.

“Good luck,” Aaron says finally, tucked into his blankets.

“You owe me.”

“I covered for your shit so many times—”

“No,” Andrew insists. “I have three finals tomorrow. You owe me.”

“Alright. Don’t let the other students to catch you—”

Andrew doesn’t answer. They’ve done it enough time in high school for Andrew to know how to pass for someone he’s not.

“Wait, Andrew—” Aaron’s tone of voice makes Andrew stop, one hand on the knob. Aaron takes a breath and says: “It’ll look weird if you don’t at least wait for Katelyn at the end.”

“I’m not touching her.”

“That’s okay, you can say you’re not feeling well. I’m going to be stuck here for a few days anyway. Just—don’t blow her off in front of everybody, alright?”

“I left my knives.”

Aaron’s glare is withering. “You know what I mean.”

Andrew killed for Aaron; he got into a car accident, and he accepted to join college and play Exy even when he was sure he was going to kill himself before their time was up. But this might be too much.

Andrew arrives almost at the last minute to avoid being roped in a conversation with Aaron’s classmates. The cheerleader, who left Fox Tower a little before noon to get something to eat and prepare for the exam, is watching anxiously from her seat in the middle of the room.

Their seats are assigned in alphabetical order. Andrew signs in as Aaron at the list near the door, and makes his way to her, since her last name places them next to each other. He supposes it might be a comfort for them usually; but she looks uneasy enough that Andrew hopes his presence makes her fail.

He’s barely taken out a pen when the exam starts. Aaron was right, at least: it is a multiple-choice quiz, but a long one. Despite his memory and Aaron’s notes, Andrew has to make up some answers when he finds himself unable to even understand the question.

He finishes early. He’s not the first one to leave the room, but the clock indicates an hour of time left. The cheerleader glances up when he gets up: she’s still only halfway through, which means Andrew leaves the building and her behind without a second thought about his cover. Waiting an hour is a waste of time he cannot be bothered with.

Aaron is sleeping soundly when Andrew comes back. He doesn’t stir even when Andrew changes back into his clothes, drops the bag and switches their phones again.

Andrew nudges him with his foot.

“Fuck off,” Aaron mutters in the pillow.

“I’m done.”

Aaron wakes up properly. “How did it go?”

“You’ll pass.”

“I need to have good grades for med school.”

“Should have thought of that before getting too sick to move,” Andrew says, unsympathetic.

“You’re a jerk.”

“I’ll ask you for something later.”

“How could I forget.” Aaron drops back down into his pillow. “Thanks,” he says more seriously.

Andrew slams the door when he leaves the room.

Neil is waiting in their suite, buried in a bean bag with an Exy match playing on the television. His eyes flit over to Andrew as soon as he opens the door, though, an indication that he’s not actually paying any attention to the screen.

“How did it go?”

Andrew shushes him, collapsing in the bean bag next to Neil’s. Neil drags his a little closer, lying down so their legs are touching from the thigh down.

“That bad, uh?” he says.

Andrew slaps a hand on his mouth to keep him quiet. He feels exhausted, drained more than he thought he would be after an hour of exam. It’s a good thing Neil can understand the command for what is: a prayer of quiet.

Neil kisses Andrew’s palm when he’s too slow to take it off his mouth, and Andrew opens one eye to glare at him. He has that look in his eyes that promises tenderness, even though they’re both still learning that language.

Andrew closes his eyes again, drawing strength from the smooth feeling of Neil’s shirt under his fingers. Neither of them turns to the television again for the rest of the evening, but it doesn’t matter.

grand slam sam and the lying bunch

It’s Daniel who sees the sign. He’s driving Lola back from a hair appointment in Toledo, Ohio (Her stylist moved there last year, and in her words, “It’s not that far of a drive!”), and the sign stares him right in the face. But this one doesn’t say long-haired freaky people need not apply. It says, “St. Thérèse High School Senior Prom: May 2, 7:00, GYM.”

He gets the idea right away.

When he gets back home to tell Sadie, she’s impressed. They sit with Sam at Abby’s Diner over a slice of cherry pie and discuss. Katie Sheehan’s waiting on their table, which Sam mostly drums on with his fork.

“Here come ol’ flat top,” he sings under his breath.

Sadie slugs him in the arm.

“Will you pay attention?” she asks. “We’re trying to plan something for our friends. Our best friends, actually.”

“I am paying attention!” Sam says. “I’m just also playing the drums with my fork.”

Sadie rolls her eyes. She reaches across the table and grabs Daniel’s hands.

“Sweetheart, I love you for this,” she says. “And I really want it to work. But you know Lucy and Will.”

“Specifically Lucy,” Sam says, and Sadie nods.

“If we couldn’t get them to come to their own prom, what makes you think they’ll say yes to crashing somebody else’s?”

Daniel smirks.

“Come on,” he says. “It’s easy.”

“Easy like how?” Sam asks. “One time, when Lucy was helping me with a paper, I tried to get her to meet me at Denny’s instead of Big Boy. Not even close. She mocked me until I gave in.”

“How did she mock you about Denny’s?” Daniel asks.

“Called me ‘Grand Slam Sam’ for three hours. Every time she said it, I started to hate the taste of pancakes just a little bit more. Lucy can do that to you without even knowing it. She’s hardcore, man. She’s hardcore.”

Sadie smiles.

“She paid me five bucks to do it, too,” she says with a laugh. “That was a fun day.”

Sam rolls his eyes.

“I think you’re giving Lucy too much credit,” Daniel says.

The twins sit across from him, agape and aghast.

“You better watch yourself,” Sadie says. “If she ever finds out you said that …”

“Instead of Thanksgiving turkey, we’ll be having your head on a silver platter,” Sam says.

Sadie nods in agreement. Now, Daniel rolls his eyes.

“I don’t understand what you don’t understand,” he says. “All we gotta do is trick her.”

Sadie and Sam look at each other like they’re really considering it. Then, of course, they burst out laughing. Daniel slumps in his chair with his arms across his chest.

“Trick her!” Sadie says. “Trick the most suspicious person on the planet!”

“And even if we could trick Lucy, it’s not like Will’s a slouch,” Sam adds. “He’s got, what? A hundred siblings? A family that big gives you trust issues. I can see it in his eyes. He’s got the look of a man who’s had more than a few ice cubes dropped down the back of his shirt.”

Sadie turns to Sam with desperate eyes.

“I did that to you one time,” she says.

“And I’ll never forget it,” Sam says. “I swear, Sadie, as soon as you least expect it, I’ll take my revenge.”

Sadie rolls her eyes and takes a forkful of the cherry pie.

“Come on, you guys,” Daniel says.

“I’m a girl,” Sadie says.

“You two.”

“Can I be Bono?” Sam asks.

“Only if I can be Edge,” Sadie says.

“Oh, please. You are so not cool enough to be Edge. Daniel’s Edge. Right, Daniel?”

“Will you shut up?” Daniel hisses. It’s a strange outburst from a guy cool enough to be the Edge.

Sadie and Sam nod their heads.

“Will’s easy,” Daniel says. “And Lucy’s not Brainiac. We could get her if we tried. We just have to think about what would get her.”

Sadie slams her palms down on the table, making Sam and Daniel jump.

“Her ego!” Sadie says. “She’ll do anything for her ego.”

The boys look at her like she’s lost her mind. Embarrassed, she sinks down into her chair and takes another big bite of the pie.

“I didn’t mean it to be mean,” she says with a mouthful. “I just … I know my best friend, OK? And you do, too.”

“We do,” Sam says. “So, how do we get her ego to go to Toledo?”

Sadie finishes her bite of pie, takes a sip of water, and continues all by herself.

“We could tell her somebody read that article she wrote for the school paper about double standards for graduation dress code,” she says. “We could tell that they want her to come in for some meeting and talk about it.”

Sam laughs.

“I can see it now,” he says. “Her eyes will light up. She’ll smile just a little. And for a second, it’ll be like she’s right on top of the world.”

“Damn,” Sadie says. “She loves achievements.”

“It’s unhealthy,” Sam says.

Sadie nods and takes her third forkful of pie. Sam and Daniel share a look.

“OK, so we know what’ll get her to come out,” Daniel says. “Sadie, you know you gotta be in charge of all this, don’t you?”

Sadie makes a face.

“Me?” she asks. “Why?”

“You’re Lucy’s best friend,” Daniel says. “Nobody in the world she listens to more than you. Plus, you’re a good liar.”

Sadie slams her hands down on the table again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks. “That I’m dishonest?”

“No, not really,” Sam says. “It’s just with all that people-pleasing you’re always trying to do, you’ve gotten really good at … redirecting information.”

“I resent that!”

Sam sticks his fork into what’s left of the pie and picks up a smaller bite than he’d hoped.

“Resent it all you want,” he says and shovels the bite into his mouth. “It’s true.”

Sadie folds her arms and stews in her seat. Daniel leans forward and reaches for her hands. Out of habit, she gives them.

“After tonight, we only got two days to pull this off,” Daniel says. “We still need to tell Mary and John what’s going on when we ask ‘em to look after Elenore. Lucy still needs to buy a dress. I know you wanna help. So, are you gonna sit here and resent Sam, or are you gonna find a way to trick your best friend into buying a dress for a prom we weren’t invited to?”

Sadie unfolds her arms and lets a slow smile creep across her face.

“I’m going to trick my best friend into buying a dress for the prom,” she says. “One of these days, it’ll make her happy.”

Daniel smiles coolly – a bit proud of himself. He grabs his fork and tries to dig into the pie, but when he does, there’s nothing left. Just the clinking, clanking sound of metal on a plate. He looks at Sadie and Sam, who stare back at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“We probably should have ordered another slice,” Sam says.

Daniel grips his fork and prays for Katie to come back to their table.

Hey! So I know that you're the most famous person of the kabby fandom (and I love you btw) so there's something I need to tell you. I've seen a lot of people from the kabby fandom (which I am a part of it) getting mad whenever someone on twitter doesn't like Kane or Abby, saying that it's because they are ageist which I think is really annoying (like they start going off on them almost every time ) 1/2

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and if they don’t like a character it’s not necessarily bc they’re ageist. I think that this is the reason a lot of people don’t like us so (if you agree with me ofc) could you maybe pass the word? I love you btw you’re an amazing person and your ff are the best 😘 2/2             

Okay.  So.  

There’s a lot to unpack here.

I have a lot of thoughts, some of which may notbe the thoughts you were hoping that I would have.  I do want to thank you for your very sweet words, but I also want to address a few things about this askI find extremely frustrating, not with the intent of making you feel bad butbecause I think there are some big conversations here worth having in a broadercontext.

First and foremost, and this is something most ofyou have heard me reiterate many times, I am a strong advocate of peopleaddressing their problems with each other directly.  If you saw someone on Twitter accuse someoneof being ageist and you disagree, that’s fair to say!  Social media is a free and open exchange ofideas.  Also, if you’re a member of theKabby fandom, and you witness another member of the Kabby fandom engaging inbad internet behavior, call them out!  It’salways better for communities to go collect their own people when they crossthe line rather than expecting others to do it. If your fellow fan tweets something mean, call it out.  We all need to do our part to shut that stuffdown and make the fandom a better place. But the right forum for that is to bring it up with the person whoactually said or did the thing you’re upset about, and not to bring it to acompletely unrelated party.

Which brings me to my second point: I’m extremelyuncomfortable being addressed as though I speak for the entirety of the Kabbyfandom.  I don’t.  No one person does.  Fandoms are communities made of individualpeople who have shared interests, but there’s no hierarchy. I don’t want to bethe Bad Fandom Behavior Police. This is especially frustrating when I getasks where one member of the fandom comes to Kabby Mom about something anothermember of the fandom did … especially when it’s something I wasn’t part ofand didn’t witness.  

And that, my dear Anon, is the big problem that I’mhaving with this request.  I don’t haveany idea what incident you’re referring to, what was said, by whom, to whom, orwhat the context was.  You’re asking meto agree with you that somebody was out of line, and that, quote, “that’s whypeople don’t like us.”  But I can’t grantthat premise without knowing what you’re talking about.  

(Also, by the way, I would urge you to let go ofspending too much time caring about whether other fandoms like us.  I can assure you, most of them honestly probablyaren’t thinking about us that much.)  

If I understand the situation correctly, and ifwe’re referring to a real incident and not a hypothetical, you’re saying that PersonA tweeted something negative about Kabby and Person B said “that’s ageist.”  You, Anon, believe that Person A was not being ageist, that Person B overreacted,and that B is the one whose behavior is the problem.  And that’s certainly one possibility.  But the other possibility is that maybePerson A was being ageist but neither Person A nor you have recognizedit.

And I cannot make that determination for you,because you haven’t told me anything concrete, and I wasn’t there.

I am also a thirty-six-year-old woman in a fandomfull of teenagers and if you are not thirty-six then it is entirely possiblethat you and I are seeing the concept of ageism from two very different andincompatible points of view in the first place.

That being said, if you want my opinion, here is my opinion.

First, there really is no excuse for being a jerk onthe internet, no matter what you disagree about.  There will always be people who love thingsyou hate and hate things you love and ship things you find incomprehensible andreject headcanons you treat as gospel, because we all fandom in our ownways.  So if you’re asking me, shouldKabby shippers get a pass on being jerks to non-Kabby shippers just because I,personally, ship Kabby, my answer to that is, “of course not, that is insane.”  Disagreement and discussion are always okay;Twitter is a public forum, and if someone voices an opinion, you get to haveyour own opinion about it.  But being ajerk is never okay.  

In general, I am a strong proponent of stayingin your lane. I’m a pretty ruthless curator of my Twitter and Tumblr feeds, soI don’t follow anyone who talks shit about Kane or Abby (I have a one-strikeblock policy with this), and I recommend this approach to everyone.  Make your social media feed your happy place.

Now, there are lots of people in the fandom who don’tlike, or simply don’t care for, Kane and/or Abby.  There are probably plenty of reasons forthis, and not, not every single one of these reasons is inherently ageist. HOWEVER!The fact that you did not see the comment in question as being ageist does not actually mean it was not ageistor that the person who called them out was wrong for doing so.  

Ageism is hardwired into the very fabric of oursociety – like misogny and heterosexism and racism – and just like with thoseother -isms, most of the time when we serenely think that we are guiltless ofit, we are lying to ourselves. And that goes for internalized prejudices,too.  This stuff is ingrained in us from birth. In general, the sameway I am inherently suspicious of white people saying “I AM ZERO PERCENTRACIST” and men saying “I AM THE MOST FEMINIST MAN TO EVER MAN”, I tend to takewith a grain of salt the words of people much younger than me talking about ageism in this fandom because I actually see it a lot.

And fam, we need to talk about the differencebetween fandom discourse about Abby and fandom discourse about Kane.

Now, your mileage may vary, but I will say thatin my personal experience, when I stumble upon someone who does like Abby but doesn’t likeKane, I agree that it frequently has its roots in reasons which are notinherently, automatically ageist.  Ittends to be rooted rather clearly in plot. More often than not, they’re still tripping up over something he did in aprevious season that they can’t get past. (We should probably save the conversation about our fandom’s selectiveforgiveness problem for another time.)  Theycan’t get past the Culling, or arresting/shocklashing/attempting to float Abby,or being too hard on Bellamy, or losing the election to Pike by choosing toally with the Grounders, or floating Aurora or Jake, or just in general being amega-dick in the pilot.  And that’sfine!  I mean I feel like you’re missingout by giving his four-season character development arc short shrift andignoring the way all the terrible things he’s done in the past shaped him intoa better person once he confronted them, but whatever!  The point is that, you’re right, thatreasoning is not, in and of itself, inherently ageist.  That’s not to say that there aren’t any fanswho straight-up just don’t like him because they think old guys are boring, forthe most part, when I see people dislike Kane, it’s a reaction to something that he did.

But we actually do need to talk about ageism andAbby in this fandom.  Because it is a big fucking problem. 

The problem with ageism and Abby is that moreoften than not, from what I’ve seen, when people dislike Abby, it’s a reactionto who and what she is.  It is absolutely impossible to separate itfrom internalized misogyny and the way older women are systematically devaluedby our culture in ways that sometimes we can’t even see as ageist, because they’rejust hardwired into us. 

Sure, every once in awhile you get an easy one,and someone whines on Twitter about “gross old person sex,” and then you canpoint to it very clearly, and nobody will dispute that we’re talking aboutageism here.  But it’s often so muchmurkier than that.  Ageism can look likea lot of different things, many of which you’ll believe are completelyunrelated.

Ageism can look like fans who show up in thecomments of the writers’ room Twitter and Instagram when they post pictures ofthe adults to say “nobody cares about them, post [whoever I personally stan themost] instead.”

Ageism can look like gifset after gifset featuring “leading ladies of The 100″ where they include Fox and Maya and Charlotte, but not Abby (who has second billing in the cast after Clarke).

Ageism can look like a blanket refusal, under inany situation where Clarke and Abby are at odds, to grant that Abby might havea point, even when the narrative is clearlytelling us that Clarke is the character at fault. The tendency within thisfandom for young girls who closely identify with Clarke to graft their own momfrustrations onto Abby is virtually never-ending, and it can be hard to sift throughthe the complex intersection of ageism and misogyny that makes it impossiblefor them not to see mothers as human beings who are interesting, who are wise,who are right, who know things their children do not, who are sexual, who areallowed to make mistakes, who deserve screen time and plot agency, who are justas vital to the story as the teenagers.

Ageism can look like giving Clarke sole creditfor establishing peace with the Grounders through Lexa, when in fact it wasKane who made the first contact with her and got her to offer the treaty in thefirst place, and it was Abby turning Lincoln from a Reaper back into himselfagain that cemented the alliance.

Ageism can look like shutting down Kabby shippersgleefully enjoying headcanons about bunker baby theory because Abby is “too oldto have a baby” – a misconception that has permeated so deeply into our culturethat we have all internalized the belief that no woman is supposed to have ababy over the age of 35 as though it is inarguable scientific fact, even thoughit may interest you to know thatis a myth.  (“What? How did I notknow that that was a myth?” BECAUSE OUR ENTIRE SOCIETY IS AGEIST TOWARDS WOMENAND THE STUDY THAT GAVE US 35 AS THE MAGIC STOP NUMBER IS FROM LIKE THE 1700’S,THAT’S HOW FEW FUCKS THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY GIVES ABOUT UP-TO-DATE RESEARCH ON THEHEALTH OF OLDER WOMEN)

Ageism can look like a fan who ships all thenon-canon ships … except Doctor Mechanic, because it’s “gross” and “Abby isbasically her mom.”  The inherentdesexualization of age-difference relationships is often rooted in ageism.  You don’t have to ship it!  But if you insist that no one should ship it, then there may be some ageism in the rootsof your ship-shaming.

My point here, dear Anon, is that if you arelooking for someone to tell you, “you’re right, Kabby shippers overreact aboutageism in this fandom,” you are barking up the wrong tree, because from where Istand, as a woman far closer to Abby’s age than Clarke’s, I’m going to venturethat we don’t talk about ageism enough.  And like many -isms in our society, if itdoesn’t appear to you to be that big a problem, that may be because it doesn’tapply to you.  (Yet.)

Now, to be clear – before someone sends me anangry rebuttal to this – not in a million years am I saying that it makes you inherently ageist if you don’t shipKabby.  Just like it doesn’t make you inherentlyhomophobic if you don’t like Lexa or inherently racist if you don’t like Bellamy or inherentlymisogynist if you don’t like Clarke.  Butall squares are rectangles, even if not all rectangles are squares.  By which I mean that, contained within thegroup of people who don’t ship Kabby, there is a lot of ageism, just as,contained within the group of people who hate Bellamy, there’s a lot ofproblematic racial shit, and it means we need to have a clearer understandingof where those lines are so that we recognize the ugly stuff when it shows upon our timeline and call it out when we see it.

Catching (Peter Parker x Reader) Hogwarts AU

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Part two of the Improper series

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: A game of Quidditch leaves both you and Peter injured, but he definitely gets the worst out of it.

Warnings: Mention of broken bones, minor violence, cursing, and Wade Wilson.

Words: 4,111

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You sat in the Great Hall, moving your carrots around the plate with your fork. Today had been awesome. First week of school, no homework, aced that surprise Charms quiz, food served for lunch was the best so far. Today was supposed to be great, and it was, except for one small detail; Peter wasn’t sitting next to you like always. No, he was talking to Inigo down the table. You stabbed a carrot so hard the fork bent. Peter was talking to Inigo and it didn’t look like the usual conversation, entailing Inigo being a jerk and Peter trying not to punch him. This time, Peter looked happy. He was laughing and smiling and absorbing the attention like a sponge. You observed him from afar, hearing pieces of what they were talking about. “Quidditch” and “finally” were used a lot, and you stared down at the food, wishing you could sneak off to the Slytherin table and talk to Abby, Keira and Erin. If I could just crawl under the tables. You think, devising a plan. Maybe McGonagall won’t see-

Peter sat down next to you and began putting food on his plate, humming under his breath.

“You excited for the quidditch tryouts?” He asks, shoveling chicken in his mouth. Like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t just talking and laughing with your bully.

“Definitely. Yeah.” You answer, cheering up a bit, but not enough. The image of Peter laughing with Inigo was burned into your mind and it left bitter thoughts floating in your head. I just need to get away for a bit. You reason. Peter will understand.

“Can you cover for me?” You ask hurriedly. “I don’t want Morgan catching me sneaking off.” Peter gave you a blank look at why you would want to distract the Gryffindor prefect but you didn’t wait for his response and slinked off the bench, briskly walking down between the two tables and turning to continue towards the Slytherin table. It would have been easier to go around the other way, but that was nearest to the professors table at the front, and they could not know that you were sitting at another house’s dining table. Your friends looked confused and alarmed when they say you approach the Slytherins. Abigail frantically motioned for you to sit at the empty space between her and Erin.

“Why the bloody hell are you here?” Erin asked wildly, looking around to see if anyone knew of your table change. When she knew no one saw, she faced you, grinning brightly. Erin loved breaking rules, from scribbling on the bathroom stalls to secretly giving Professor Barton a rabbit tail and cat ears. “Did that little shit give you a hard time again?”

She was referring to Inigo of course, but instead of feeling better you saddened even more. “I think Peter-he was, I mean I’m not-” You began, stumbling over words. Huffing, you calm down and try again. “Peter was talking to Inigo…”

You finish the sentence in a dejected whisper, realizing how stupid the problem was when said out loud. “Talking to Inigo how? Like usual? Or was Inigo being an even bigger twit than usual?” Keira interrogated at lightning speed, becoming irritated and heated at the mention of the boy she hated so much.

“Please,” Abigail scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Would she really come here if it was just ‘Inigo as usual’? God Keira, think about it! Peter wasn’t just talking to him-they were having a good old time. Didn’t you see them? Peter was loving the attention, that little-”

Erin jabbed Abigail slightly in the rib to make her stop talking. “M’ sure Peter didn’t mean to leave ya out.” Erin says soothingly, slinging her arm over your shoulders. “You know he loves you very much.”

Keira smirks and Abigail snorts, which does not go unnoticed by you. “‘Course he loves me, we’re best friends.” You say slowly, narrowing your eyes at your friends.

“Yup, of course. Best friends,” Keira assured gleefully in a somewhat suspicious manner. “And-oh look! He’s staring over here right now.”

You whipped around to see Peter sitting at the Gryffindor table, watching you. He waved sheepishly when he saw you turn around, and you returned the wave more enthusiastically, giving him a wide smile.

“‘ell ‘im oo liek ‘im.” Erin says through a mouthful of truffles. You tilt your head to the side and snigger at her puffed out cheeks. She swallows thickly and grabs her glass of pumpkin juice, downing it it a couple gulps.

“Tell him you like him” She repeats, smiling smugly.

“...What?” You ask, trying to hide the redness seeping across your cheeks and nose. “What are you talking about?”

Abigail raises an eyebrow. “Cut the crap, we know you like him, even if you don’t know it yet.” She says, breaking into a smile and turning your head to where Peter is sitting. “I ship it so freaking much!”

You swat her away and put your head in your hands, hiding the embarrassed blush before pulling your head up to give a comeback.

“Abigail, shut up for god's sake!” You whisper yell urgently. “I came here to vent about Inigo and you start shipping me with Peter? Seriously?”

Erin laughed good naturedly, giving your shoulders a squeeze. “Start shipping? We’ve been shipping you for what-a year and half now?”

“I don’t like Peter,” Keira stated, throwing a dark look in his direction. “And he did just talk to Inigo like they were freaking friends… He better not start being a bratty Gryffindor.”

“Hey!” You piped up, crossing your arms and feigning a hurt pout. “Not all Gryffindors are bratty!”

“You’re right.” Erin says seriously, nodding at you. “It’s just you then.”

You pinch her side and she lets out an ‘oof’, clutching her stomach as Keira and Abigail giggle, both of them reaching over to tickle her too.

“I want a good clean match!” Coach Wilson yells to the teams. He gives them a stern look, then doubles over, cackling like a witch.

“Just kidding you losers,” He manages between wheezing giggles, wiping his eyes for tears of laughter. Just as suddenly, he becomes deathly serious again. “Go do whatever the fuck you want. Just remember if anyone dies your body will be burned out behind Hagrid’s shack because I am not going to Azkaban again.”

The newest members of the quidditch teams look at the older players with wide eyes, deciding whether asking if the coach was serious would provide the answer they wanted. You couldn’t help but chuckle at Coach Wilson’s attempt to scare you. Peter on the other hand, actually seemed alarmed.

“He’s kidding, right?” Peter asks, his knees shaking as he held his broomstick tightly. “Tell me he’s kidding. Does he know me and you are only second years?”

“Good luck Peter.” You say pointedly, trying to get him to focus on being the Gryffindor chaser and not worrying about Wade Wilson being his usual asshole self. In reality though, you were just as nervous as Peter. This was the first game of the season after all, and tension was high with the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. You stood in position on the field, gripping the sleek handle of your Firebolt Supreme and preparing for the whistle that starts the game. The crowd spoke in hushed voices, taking bets about who would win. When Coach Wilson blew the whistle, you kicked off the ground as practiced and rose into the air, enjoying the cool breeze that came with being so high up. A Hufflepuff chaser flew past, closely followed by Liz Allan, the Hufflepuff team captain. You observed the scene below, searching for any signs of the Golden Snitch. Being the seeker, you trained your eyes to see the flashes of gold and wings from many meters away.

You saw a shimmer of polished metal zoom downwards and you dove after it, the wind rushing through your hair. Reaching forward, the tips of your fingers were almost touching the Snitch’s delicate wings as it flew past the other players. Dodging and pushing the speed of your Firebolt, your hand almost closed around the small golden sphere when a body rammed into your side, slamming their elbow into your ribcage. You screamed and grabbed the broom with both hands as you were sent spinning off course. The Gryffindors in the stands exploded with rage as the whistle was blown and you barely managed to whirl around and stop without colliding with the viewing stands. All the players descended down to see Coach Wilson yelling at a small Hufflepuff girl who, instead of being terrified, looked unimpressed at most.

“Cobbing and blocking? Really Leslie-Macy?” Coach Wilson shouts, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“My name is Lisa-Marie.” The girl answers coolly, straightening her quidditch robe.

“I don’t give a flying horse fuck you stupid shit!” The Coach yells. “One more penalty and you’re out!”

Lisa-Marie began to protest but Coach Wilson pulled out his wand and in a flash of light it changed into a katana blade, which he pointed at her menacingly. “Don’t test me you shitty excuse for a quidditch player.” He growls and the katana changes back into a wand. He tucks it into his pocket as if nothing had happened.

“Are you alright?” Peter asks frantically, darting around you to find any damage. “Does it hurt? Can you still play? ‘Know what-you shouldn’t play. Oh Merlin, wait ‘till I get my hands on-”

“Peter!” You shout, stopping his rambling. “I’m fine, honestly. Doesn’t even hurt that much. C’mon, we gotta get back to the game.”

All the players kicked off the ground once more and the match continued as planned.

“There goes Liz Allan of the Hufflepuffs chasing after Fredericks of the Gryffindor team!” Flash Thompson yells into the microphone. “She takes a dive for the quaffle and catches it, obviously. Never seen Allan miss a pass. Never.” You stop paying attention because at that moment, the Snitch had flown past you at high speed, its little wings beating rapidly. Chasing after it once more, you knew that this time, you would catch the Snitch. The score was tied and this could guarantee Gryffindor the win.Your long quidditch robes whipped behind you as the little golden ball was centimeters from your palm, and with one final jerk forward you trapped it in your hand, skidding to a halt mid air. The people in the stands roared with approval or booed as Flash announced the closing of the match. You were on cloud nine, high on happiness and pride. Peter was a small distance away, pumping his fist in the air and cheering you on. All you were feeling was elated, like you were in space and you could never come down. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a furious Lisa-Marie use her beater's bat to angle a bludger. You didn’t have time to react before it hit the hilt of Peter’s broomstick. He wasn’t given the chance to scream.

Peter fell in slow motion as you gave an strangled shriek, plunging after his flailing form. Blood pounded in your ears from the sudden altitude drop but it was nothing to your panic stricken self. The ground was nearing fast, your eyes stinging as you shot your hand out to grab Peter’s arm, robe, leg-anything! If it would just slow down his fall. Right before his back hit the grass field you latched onto his wrist, jerking him up. Peter’s spine slammed against the earth, not as roughly as it could have but you still feared for permanent damage. The wrist you had grabbed was bent at disgusting angle, the sight of which made you want to empty your lunch. You still held his wrist when you threw your Firebolt aside, falling to your knees next to Peter. His chest heaved but no oxygen entered his lungs and he gasped for air.

“Peter! Peter!” Your breathlessly cried his name, hands traveled from his pale face to his neck, checking for pulse in your state of hysteria. “Oh my god, oh my god, answer me dammit!”

You raked a hand through your hair, at a loss of what to do. Peter opened his eyes and groaned, snaking his clammy fingers through yours. You almost wept with relief, a laugh bubbling in your throat. Teachers and students alike crowded around you and Peter, someone attempting to pry you away from him but you dug your nails into their arm, scratching them until they jolted away.

Nurse Maximoff appeared next to you, lifting Peter into the air on a stretcher of red mist and you followed her, not listening to the yells of the teachers. The nurse didn’t seem to notice your presence during the trek back to the school or as she laid Peter on a bed in the Hospital Wing, her scarlet magic flying bottles and flasks of medicine around. Peter gave another sharp cry and you stuffed your fist in your mouth to keep from wailing at his misery. Nurse Maximoff’s red magic began to forcefully push you out of the Hospital Ward, shutting the big wooden doors behind you. Footsteps thunder down the hall towards you and seconds later a hoard of people turn the corner, stopping in front of the doors.

“Holy shit you’re fast.” Keira puffs out, leaning on the wall to catch her breath. Keira, Abigail, and Erin crowded around you along with a couple people you don’t know. You looked around helplessly at your friends, dizzy from attention.

“Oh, I forgot,” Erin says, noticing your lost expression. She pointed to four other students behind her, three of them clad in yellow and black. “These are some Hufflepuffs who felt Lisa-Marie was barking for doing’ what she did. Think they wanted to say sorry-since the bitch won’t say it herself.”

“Hello.” A pretty dark skinned girl shook your hand, and you recognized her as Liz Allan, the captain of the Hufflepuff team. “Erin’s right, we’re sorry about Lisa. She’s been known to be-”

“Bat shit crazy.” A younger boy finishes, earning a glare from Liz.

“What? It’s true-I have no idea how she became a Hufflepuff.” He burst out, probably relieved to say it aloud. “Not a nice bone in her body. Nope.”

“Lisa isn’t too bad.” A small, frizzy haired Hufflepuff girl defends.

“Ned’s still right.” A tall Ravenclaw girl agrees, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “She’s a damn pain, man.”

The tall girl extends a hand, shaking yours lazily. “Michelle Jones. Ravenclaw, art club founder, Stella’s personal babysitter.”

“Michelle,” The little Hufflepuff girl whines, bouncing up and down on the heels of her shoes. “I don’t need a babysitter!”

Michelle gives her a cheshire cat grin. “Hush child, mummy’s talking. Anyway, how’s the loser who fell?”

“He’s not a loser.” You grumble, staring down at your feet.

Abigail grunts in amusement and shakes her head. “She’s just saying that ‘cus she fancies him so much.”

You sock her in the arm.

Visiting Peter in the Hospital Wing was tricky. Combine tons of homework, tests and the “no sneaking around after dark” rule and the result was the few times you could actually see him. Every Saturday and Sunday were spent almost entirely with Peter though. You’d practice weird spells, eat all kinds of junk food, and Nurse Maximoff turned out to be a very nice lady who you now had the permission to call Wanda. She was a lot younger than you thought, and most of the time was like a big sister to you and Peter, helping you sneak in sweets and keeping your night stays with Peter a secret. You walked briskly to the Hospital Wing, ready to relax and have a good evening when giggling reaches your ears. You stop in your tracks at the doors, inching forward to hear more.

“I’m still sorry the Hufflepuff prat got you like that, Pete.” You internally groaned at the high pitched, annoyingly nasally voice. Oh for the love of-why does Inigo have to be where I plan to be all the time?

“If I’d been out there flying you would be here, right Ned?” The mention of Ned made you want to groan again. Ned was an incredibly polite, shy, dorky nerd who didn’t deserve to be sucked into Inigo’s gang of idiots.

“I-I guess.” Came Ned’s uneasy reply.

“Bet I’d have saved you, no problem. How’s that friend of your, huh Pete? Didn’t she break your wrist tryin’ to save you?” That sentence made you nauseous. I broke Peter’s wrist? No, no, no. I was just trying to help, I-

“She didn’t mean to!” Peter assures and you instantly feel better, even just by a smidge. “It slowed my fall. I might be dead if she didn’t help.”

“Where is the little savior you talk about so much now, anyway? Isn’t she always here on the weekends?” Inigo’s question was seemingly innocent, but you knew the scheme behind it.

“She’s just held up a little.” Ned’s chimes in.

“Well then,” One of Inigo’s friends announces. “We’ll stay here ‘till she get’s here. Y’know, keep you company.”

Your hand hold the door handle, face growing pale. I should go in there. You think, knuckles turning white as your grip on the handle gets tighter. I should march in there and maybe Inigo will leave. Yup, just open the door and move your feet… The aura around you is hot and timid. Walking in would be so easy, only a few steps and you would be at Peter’s bed, talking and laughing with him and Ned. But Inigo’s still there… A small, anxious voice in your head reminds you. What happens when you leave and he comes with you, with all of his huge gorilla friends? You, alone in the hallway, with Inigo and his gang. The thought makes you even jumpier than before. It would be so, so easy to walk in and plop down next to Peter and Ned.

But your grip on the handle is removed. And you walk, head low, back to the girls dormitory. A coward.

“This is so wrong.” Stella squeaks excitedly, caught in the moment. Abigail peeks around the corner and gives you a thumbs up without looking back. The rest of the group, namely Keira, Michelle, Erin, you and Stella, tiptoe forward, wary of the distant sounds of talking in the dark corridors. Slinking around the halls at night was sort of a new hobby as your friends tried to find an obscure hangout to use when escaping the stress of end of year schoolwork.

“No offence Stella but can you hush up for a second.” Michelle quips, pulling Stella along to quicken their pace. “Abby mighta found a great place down near the Slytherin commons.”

“The Slytherin-the Slytherin commons?” Stella yelps, automatically being shushed by everyone.

“We’re almost there and… Aha!” Erin explains, also being shushed by the group. She gives an exaggerated eyes roll. “Well, here’s the entrance.”

You squint in the darkness and pull out your wand, muttering “Lumos” so a helpful burst of light emits from the tip of your wand. What Erin was referring to was a particularly old statue of a witch that had its back connected with the wall a bit away from the doors to the Slytherin common room.

“I suppose this needs some sort of charm to activate it?” Keira asks, leisurely waving her wand around.

“No, we’re just going to sit here until morning.” You deadpan, sending Keira a bored look. “Of course it need a charm! Now, who knows it?”

“Need you even ask?” Abigail answers snobbishly, brandishing her wand.

“Káto apó ti límni.” She whispers, making a little swirling motion with her wand and swishing it to point at the witch's chest. The statue rumbled as moved to the side, making you hope no one heard. A gust of cool wind swept out, pleasingly chilly compared to the hot mid June weather. All girls gasp and marvel as they walked through the passageway. The old brick walls were just like the rest of Hogwarts, but the roof was a clouded glass, the waves of water above creating beautiful shimmers of light that illuminated the passage, along with old metal lamps that decorated the brick. You could see schools of fish dart by, seaweed slowly drifting along with the current. This passageway-

“It’s under the lake.” Stella gasped, tilting her head up to take in every detail.

“Uh huh…” Keira answered meekly, distracted by a grindylow that was swimming past the roof, growling when it saw them. The passage only ended when you entered a small circular room, also with a glass roof, marble columns supporting the structure. Someone had scattered fur rugs around the floor, and old coffee table was put in one corner, surrounded by pillows and blankets.

“Didja bring the stuff?” Erin asks, sitting cross legged at the coffee table. Nodding, you pull strings of lights, stacks of DVD’s, books and hoards of stuffed animals out of the bag you had on your shoulder. You silently thanked Merlin for undetectable extension charms and everyone began to string up the fairy lights, putting the DVD’s and book on the table. Stuffed animals were handed out and all of you sat down at the coffee table.

“Exactly why did we bring DVD’s?” Michelle questions, looking at Abigail. She grins and pulls something from under her pillow.

“How did you get a computer to Hogwarts?” Keira asks, in awe at the sleek new model. A couple hours and movies later, you yawned loudly and shut the laptop. You nudged Stella, who was leaning against you, fast asleep, and gathered your things. The six of you make your way back out, rubbing your eyes to keep from falling asleep. The statue slid back into place and you were about to mumble a sleepy goodbye to your friends but were interrupted by a snicker.

“Well if it isn’t Pete’s little friend.” Inigo says, sickening glee dripping in his voice. “And you brought the whole gang. Wonderful.”

Too tired to find a witty comeback, you sighed and turned to him. “What do you want?”

Inigo tutted, shaking his head. “Oh, nothing really. Just wanted to tell you how sad poor Pete was when you were a no show all those weekends.” He simpers. “Very rude, if you ask me.”

Bastard. You think. He knows perfectly well why I skip a lot. “Go boil your head Inigo, or I’ll do it.” You snap, trying to pull your friends away from him and his gang. Too late. His mates moved between you and yours, separating your group.

“But that wouldn’t be as fun.” Inigo sneered, walking around you. And just like that, the air was suffocating you, choking you with its denseness. “Look at yourself, hanging out with these Slytherins. A right disgrace, if you ask me.”

“Drop dead you moronic git!” Abigail retaliates, pushing away Inigo’s friend who was closest to her. “The hell do you think you’re going to do to us?”

A boy shoves her back and she stumbles into Stella, who grabs her arm for support. Anger boils in you, picking you up from the previously sleepy state.

“Don’t touch her!” Michelle yells, then cries out when the boy circling her pulls on her messy ponytail. Stella’s chest was heaving, and you knew she was going to freak out if anyone got hurt more. Inigo dug his nails into your jaw, which must have been a funny sight, him being the same height as you. It wasn’t funny to you though, it stung badly.

“I want,” Inigo pauses, glancing at your friends. “I want you to stop being such an embarrassment to the Gryffindor name. A couple Slytherins? A Hufflepuff I could excuse, but Slytherins?”

“Let. Go.” You growl, your words coming out choked because of his death grip on your jaw. Inigo looked about to hit you but footfalls somewhere down a couple corridors stopped him. He let go of your face and motioned for his friends to follow him. They run off towards the Gryffindor commons and you massage your jawline, knowing there would be red marks by tomorrow.

“Run!” Erin whisper yells. All of you sprint in different directions, each to your individual common room.

You panted heavily, barely muttering the password to the Fat Lady. Going to your bed in Gryffindor Tower was bittersweet, knowing that very close is the boys dormitory, where sleeps your enemy and the boy who is your best friend. Who you have avoided because of a stupid bully. Who waited for you to come visit when you never did.

Authors  Note: 

Okay no one reads authors notes but I thought I would warn you guys. It’s going to get real heavy, real quick. Angst, betrayal, gossip, and that weird tingly feeling you get when something really unfair is happening to a character and you just wanna give them a hug. Yeah that character is you, so... Anyway, the chapters have been pretty fluffy so far. That’s going to end as of this chapter. And if you’re confused at why the reader was a first year in the first two parts, but is now a second year (because they’re allowed to play quidditch in second year) then let me explain. Every chapter is another full year, unless I say otherwise. The very first part was a prequel, it doesn’t count. I may split a chapter into two parts if it gets too long, or a special edition over the Hogwarts holidays... I don’t know. Hope you love it, hope you aren’t offended by the cussing, yada yada. Stay weird!

-A

Tags: @madithemagicalfangirl

Chapter 93: Our Poor Choices

Summary: Bela has made some bad choices. And probably Dean too. But then… Ellie doesn’t always make the right call, either.

Wordcount: 3382

Warnings: None. Except angst, I guess…

A/N: WHAT?! She’s back, y’all!!! Thank god I went to All Hell Breaks Loose because I fell back down the deep deep rabbit hole of living and breathing SPN!!!

(Also, Jared Padalecki hugged me and called me “sweetie”, but that’s obviously not important at all it’s only been 3 days I can’t expect my heart rate to have gone down yet, right?)

Episode Guide: This chapter takes place during and just after 3x15.

Chapter 93: Our Poor Choices

On our way back to the motel, Dean explained what happened with Rufus. He’d given Dean the address for Bela, along with several pages of relevant documents about her past. Apparently there’s a thing you can do with IDing a person from their ear. So a friend of Rufus’ in England had a whole lot of background.

Dean had already gone through it, of course. Her real name was Abby. Her parents died when she was fourteen, and in suspicious circumstances. Their car crashed, and Police suspected the brake line had been cut, but weren’t able to prove it. And little Abby got their money. A whole lot of money.

That explained why that vengeful spirit had gone after her in Massachusetts. It targeted people who had killed a member of their own family.

“Shoulda let that spirit take her out,” Dean said, as he finished explaining.

“Cutting her parents’ brakes at fourteen,” Sam repeated. “Wow. That’s… That’s cold.”

“She didn’t cut ‘em,” Dean went on. “I noticed something in her room. Devil’s shoestring.”

“Like for warding off Hellhounds?” asked Sam. Man had a botanical encyclopaedia in his head. He was always identifying plants from name or sight alone.

“Exactly like,” Dean said. “And guess when mommy and daddy died?”

Shit. Bela had done a deal with a Crossroads demon. “Ten years ago?”

“To the day,” Dean said. “Her time’s up.”

Sam turned in his seat to look back at me. I was in the middle, again, leaning forward to perch my head between theirs. I didn’t know what Sam’s face meant. He slightly raised one eyebrow. But maybe he was looking at my expression for some reason, rather than trying to communicate anything.

“Did she tell you why?” he asked, turning back to his brother.

“Didn’t ask. We’re talking millions, Sam. Why else?”

Maybe that’s what Sam had been trying to ask me, without words. Something about this story seemed… odd. It takes a special kind of ruthlessness to murder your parents for money before you’re even out of high school. Bela was definitely cold and hard, but she didn’t seem greedy. She was incredibly shady and she sold stolen goods. She didn’t care what was done with the dangerous occult stuff she hocked. Yes, she’d shot Sam, which I’d never forgive. But she also paid us for rescuing her from that ghost ship curse. Paid us a lot.

She liked being rich, but I wasn’t quite sure how to reconcile a teenager so greedy she’d murder her parents in cold blood with a woman who casually threw twenty grand at us like it was nothing.

“Mighta been some other reason too,” I said. “I hate her, but I dunno… something just doesn’t seem right about that.”

“Okay, Shortcake,” said Dean, his tone like like a gentle, patronising pat on the head. “Bela’s just misunderstood and there’s a soft squishy marshmallow inside everyone.”

“Except you, asshole,” I said, throwing a heavy kick to the back of his seat.

“You said she didn’t have the Colt,” Sam cut in, carefully scooching the subject back on track before I tried to strangle Dean while he was driving. “So what happened?”

“Didn’t find the Colt, so I left. But she stole the motel receipt from my pocket.”

“Huh,” mumbled Sam. “So… she’s looking for us?”

“Or someone else is,” said Dean. “Either way, I’m thinking decoys in our beds tonight.”

Sam and I agreed with that, no question. Whether Bela bumped her parents off for money or not was irrelevant to our own situation. When someone pickpockets you to find out where you’re sleeping, best thing to do is not sleep there.

It was on the way back to the motel that Sam spotted a sex shop. Dean was all ready to joke about his little brother growing up or imply Sam had some weird fetish. But Sam pointed out that the place sold sex dolls, forcing Dean to agree that actually, that was a really great idea.

Two guys and a girl go into a shop and buy three sex dolls. I don’t know how that joke ends, but it sounds like a good start. At least, the man working the counter was amused.

It was dark by the time we got back to the motel. Dean had been in Canaan, so it was only Sam and I that needed to gather all our shit together. It was hard to make my decoy doll look right, lying on the floor, but we managed it. Without knowing whether it’d be Bela coming or someone else, and what they intended to do, we just had to take our best guess.

Dean was pretty convinced Bela was intending to kill us. She was trying to hold Hellhounds at bay, but rather than ask for help, she’d stolen the receipt to get our location. Sam and I agreed that it sure seemed like she was trying to cut some sort of deal. I wasn’t sure about killing us, though. Maybe her intention was just to give us up.

In any case, she probably wasn’t interested in killing me. I was merely a sidekick. A badass, super competent (and totally hilarious) sidekick. But not likely to be included in any plot against the Winchesters. Although, she hated my guts, so maybe she’d just see killing me as a bonus. Either way, I wasn’t waiting around to find out.

So we skipped, leaving the key in the room, and without telling reception. We didn’t need Bela inquiring at the desk and finding we’d checked out. With any luck, she wouldn’t turn up until very late, long after we were gone.

“Where are we going, though?” I asked, hauling my duffle into the back seat.

“As far as possible,” Dean said. “Pick a direction.”

I hesitated. Dean had three weeks left and he actually seemed willing, at this point, to talk about it. It seemed to me that this was an opportunity to go where the best resources were. We still had time to save him.

“Why don’t we go home?” I suggested. “I still think Dad’s got books I could…” I stopped, not wanting to tell Dean about my plan to ty and bring him back after death. I didn’t want him to get his hopes up. What if I couldn’t? Much better to keep looking for a better idea.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. You miss your Dad, right? I guess we can take a little trip, make you less homesick, whatta you say, Sammy?”

Sam smiled as he shut the back door on me. It wasn’t a cheerful smile, but it was genuine. Just the slightest hint of his dimples formed.

“If that’s… if it’s what Ellie needs, sure.”

And so, we were able to agree on going home to Sioux Falls, with all of us pretending it wasn’t to make a last ditch effort to save Dean before the hounds came to take him down to Hell.

We made several attempts to call our abandoned motel room from the road. Dean wanted to gloat at Bela. I was still sure there was something we didn’t know about her, but I kept my mouth shut. At least until I knew whether or not she was planning to murder us.

But it’d be nice to know whether she was the one planning to come into our room, or someone else. Maybe, if someone answered the phone, we could get some idea of what was happening.

Nearing midnight, we were somewhere in Ohio. Dean decided to have another try, and this time, he didn’t put the phone down in frustration.

“Hiya, Bela. Here’s a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that motel receipt.”

There was only the very briefest of pauses, obviously while she said something.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I understand perfectly. See, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door. A herb. Devil’s shoestring? There’s only one use for that: holding hellhounds at bay. So you know what I did? I went back and took another look at your folks’ obit. Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn’t kill them. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn’t you Bela? And it’s come due. Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal, our gun for your soul?”

His sentences had mostly rolled into one another, so I guessed he’d either been interrupting her attempts to respond, or she hadn’t tried and he was just delivering a monologue. After he was done, he did leave a brief pause, during which she presumably answered.

“But stealing the Colt wasn’t quite enough, I’m guessing,” he said.

Sam looked back at me while Dean listened to Bela’s reply. It was hard to see him that well in the dark car, but I was guessing his eyes were that deep concerned brown that looked bottomless.

“Really!” Dean said. “Wow, demons untrustworthy? Shocker! That’s uh… kind of a tight deadline too. What time is it? Well, look at that, almost midnight.” Another pause. “Sweetheart, we are weeks past help.” And then again.

Was she begging him for help? After what she’d done?

“You know what, you’re right, you don’t,” said Dean. “But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you.”

We would have tried, at the very least. And a promise to try from the Winchesters had to be worth more than any demon’s offer to renegotiate a contract.

Even though she’d taken the Colt, and even though she’d lied and deceived us… Even though she shot Sam, I still didn’t think Bela deserved to die. And especially not so horribly, being doomed to eternity in Hell itself.

Yeah, so she supposedly did a deal to kill her parents, but that still didn’t quite tally up to me. Stealing and lying and being ruthless were definitely connected with Bela being capable of wishing her family dead. But why? Their deaths made her incredibly rich, yet she’d still started dealing in stolen occult items. She continued to make vast sums, despite not needing it. And then she paid us a fortune when we hadn’t asked her for anything.

Greedy people don’t throw money around. So why give away her soul just to off her parents and get the cash?

I wished Dean would put her on speaker, or let me talk to her. It was too late to do anything, but I wanted to know why. It was too late to help her. But I thought she should at least get the chance to explain her motives before the hounds came.

“And who told you that?” Dean asked her. Then he questioned her further. “She? Lilith? Why should I believe you? This can’t help you, Bela, not now. Why you telling me this?”

Whatever reason she gave, Dean was done with her. “I’ll see you in Hell,” he said, hanging up, putting the phone down and getting his right hand back on the wheel.

See you in Hell, he said. And I was one hundred percent sure he meant it literally.

We drove all night, and into the next day. We took turns, one driving, one keeping them awake and one sleeping in the back. With a couple of meal stops, we made it back home to Sioux Falls in just over fourteen hours. Dean was someone who believed that speed limits are just a suggestion.

It was a little after nine o’clock when we pulled into the yard. Still early enough for some breakfast.

The super subtle roar of the Impala’s engine alerted Dad before we’d even stopped, and he was waiting on the porch for us. I was in the front, taking my turn and keeping Dean company for the last leg. As soon as the car rolled to a stop, I was out before Dean had time to put it in park.

Shut up. I loved my Dad, okay.

He retained his grumpy demeanour as I ran up the steps and launched myself at him. But his grip on me when I hugged him betrayed his real feelings.

After a couple of seconds, he let go and put his hands on my shoulders, holding me a little apart from him, so he could examine my face. He peered at me, taking in the huge bruise on my forehead.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Your head…”

I knew he was worried about my previous head wound, and I couldn’t blame him for that. I was smart enough to be cautious about bumps to the head. It was well over a year, but a cracked skull isn’t something you should be casual about. Both Sam and Dean were agreed, and always made sure to check very carefully for a concussion or other signs of damage.

Hunters tend to be reckless and live dangerously, but we’re not freakin’ stupid.

“I’m okay,” I told Dad. “I got knocked out, but it feels mostly fine now. Just a bit sore.”

“Follow my finger,” he said, and I did, as he moved it left, right, up and down in front of my eyes. Quicker and easier to just do it than argue about how I wasn’t concussed and knew what I was doing.

Sam was sitting with the back door open, yawning. He’d only woken up just as we arrived. Dean came up the stairs to stand beside Dad and me.

“She got hit with a shovel,” he said. “You wanna tell him why, Princess?”

“I was being a diversion,” I said defensively. “So Sam could get the victim out the window.”

“Uh huh,” Dean said. “Bobby, you ever seen your daughter’s diversions?”

“Dean…” I moaned.

“I usually got her on backup,” Dad said, and with what looked almost like a smile. Maybe Dean’s dobbing wouldn’t lead to an argument…

“She’s freakin’ insane,” Dean said, and I could see the proud little smile he tried to hide. “Dunno what we’d do without her, right Sammy?”

“Right,” Sam said, coming up behind me. “No one in the world as distracting as Ellie.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant it as a compliment or not, but Sam wasn’t usually inclined to insult me. “It’s a gift,” I said.

We all got straight to work. I headed to the library, with some books already in mind. Some stuff I hadn’t scanned yet, but I knew from my database that there might be something in them.

Dad had found something he wanted to show us, so he and Sam talked through that. Dean left the house again pretty much right away. There wasn’t enough beer, and going to get more was definitely a top priority.

We worked all day, stopping briefly for lunch. Then there was an afternoon of frantically rifling through books. While the others were still focusing on ways to break the contract, I focused on my own idea. Bela had revealed this demon, Lilith, was the one who held Dean’s contract, but Dad had read something different. Either way, I was still sure my back-up plan was worth pursuing.

Even if we figured out whether it was Lilith who had the contract (and why would Bela bother to lie at that point?), we still had to find her. And figure out how to get Dean free from the deal. Without triggering the clause that would end in Sam dying too.

I flipped through page after page, speed reading and searching for keywords. By the time it got dark out, it was hard to tell when my eyes were watering from strain, and when I was just crying from frustration. They’d sort of merged into one.

I gave up for the night and got up to make dinner. I decided to roast some actual vegetables, which always made Sam’s day. And Dean didn’t mind a good roast dinner either. It appealed to his secret domestic desires.

Sam thought something Dad had found might have some real potential. It was a reference to someone called the “King of the Crossroads”. After dinner, Dad sat Dean down to show him, while Sam and I did the dishes.

“Thanks,” he said, as I rolled up my sleeves to get washing.

“Thank you,” I replied. “Usually I do this on my own.”

“No, for yesterday,” he said. “With Benton. You were right.”

The whole Doc Benton scenario seemed weeks away. Had it really only been twenty-four hours since we threw him into a fridge and buried him deep as we could dig?

“Well, your heart was in the right place,” I said. “We’re all getting desperate.”

Sam took a heavy tray from me. His huge hands made it seem so much smaller and with his strength it seemed to weigh nothing at all.

“It’s my fault,” he said. “And the closer we get, the clearer that is to me. I’ve gotta…”

“Uh uh!” I scolded him, scrubbing at a plate with added vigour. “This is not your fault, Sam. Not yours, or mine, or Dad’s!”

It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to mention it. It never seemed appropriate, even quietly to myself, in the dark. But the truth was, Dean had made a choice. He was grieving and desperate and not thinking properly when he did it, but the dark, terrible circumstances behind it didn’t make it any less true. In fact, he’d made more than one choice.

He’d driven Dad and I away so we couldn’t stop him. He’d put together what he needed to make a deal. He’d driven to the crossroads. He’d summoned a demon, made a deal with her and accepted her unusually harsh terms. He’d been offered only one year and he took it.

There was a whole lot of backstory to who Dean was and why he’d made his choices. His feelings of intense protectiveness towards Sam were far more complex than my single college psychology elective could ever qualify me to comment on. Was Dean to blame for his decisions? Was he in a fit mental state to make that kind of deal? Would a desperate crossroads deal hold up in a human court of law? Surely diminished responsibility is a thing.

No. I don’t think we can ever say if Dean is to blame for what he did that terrible night. But one thing I did know.

No one else made that decision for him.

“There’s a way out of this, Ellie,” Sam said. “I know there is. And if I haven’t found it…”

“It’s not because you haven’t tried,” I reminded him. “Not knowing the solution to a problem isn’t the same as being the cause of the problem.”

He sighed, gently taking a plate from me. There was some danger of me agitatedly slamming it down in front of him. Maybe it wasn’t fair for me to get mad, but I couldn’t bear that he was putting the blame on himself.

“I know, but…”

“But nothing,” I scolded. “If a werewolf kills a man in Texas tonight, is it my fault?”

“Of course not…”

“No. Because I’m fucking miles away. You were dead Sam. And that’s a shitload further than Texas. You weren’t there when Dean made his deal, so it’s not your fault.”

“Okay,” he said.

But I could tell from his tone that I hadn’t convinced him of a damn thing. I’d just bullied him into agreeing with me to my face. I’d done nothing to heal his breaking heart, nothing to ease the suffering within.

My stupid temper. Rather than helping Sam, I’d just made him feel like I didn’t understand and that he couldn’t confide in me. And by the time we’d finished washing up, I still hadn’t figured out how to apologise for it. Then he was gone, to talk to Dad and Dean about this Crossroad King guy.

I joined them, but it was all business, and I couldn’t get Sam alone again before he went to bed.

I went up too, but I didn’t sleep at all. But then, did I really deserve to?

I was bitter about the Blakes and Lincoln’s death, so this happened. A word vomit of all the things I’d fix post 3x08 (When I say 3x08, I mean excluding the part where Lincoln dies of course, because that was just gross. Also, the events of S4 don’t exist). This isn’t edited, so it’s obviously very choppy, but if you wanna live a world where Lincoln doesn’t die and Octagon doesn’t abuse her brother, this is for you. It’s mess of words though, so you have been warned. Also, this is anti lnctavia, so if you like them, I wouldn’t read this. 

Kane, Octavia, Sinclair, Miller, Bryan and Harper are watching as Pike has Lincoln on his knees, but then from out of the trees come Indra and Bellamy, Indra having her sword against Bellamy’s throat as she shouts at Pike to “Let Lincoln go, or Bellamy dies.” They had radioed Monty earlier to free the other grounder prisoners while everyone was preoccupied with the execution and to meet them at the cave, which Indra tells everyone once Bellamy is traded for Lincoln and while Lincoln and Octavia embrace. She makes some comment then about where Bellamy’s loyalty truly lies after all, but Indra says, “He’s on our side, Octavia.” When she looks at her with an are-you-fucking-serious look, Indra clarifies. “I wasn’t holding him hostage. It was Bellamy’s idea, to save Lincoln.” Octavia’s eyes widen, and she swallows, regret coming over her because he’s the reason Lincoln is alive. She had drugged him, chained him to a wall, told him she didn’t need him to save Lincoln. She’d been so wrong, and now she feels horrible. How had she not trusted him? He saw Lincoln as a brother. Bellamy came through, and she hadn’t trusted him. As Indra says they should move out now and meet the others at the cave, they start through the trees and Octavia glances back at Arkadia, eyes falling on her brother. She wishes she didn’t have to leave him, wishes she didn’t have to wait another second to say she’s sorry for how much of an idiot she was. Bellamy’s always done what he thought was best for their people, today proved that yet again. As they walk through the trees, Kane asks Indra what the plan is. She tells them that once Pike realizes the grounders are gone from the cell, Bellamy’s next move is to convince Pike and as little people as possible to head out looking for them as well as the traitors. He’s going to lure Pike into a trap by telling him he knows they’re probably hiding out at the cave where he was chained up by his sister. When Kane, Octavia, Sinclair, Miller, Bryan, Harper, Indra and Lincoln arrive at the cave, Monty is there and Lincoln and Indra reunite with their people. Upon seeing Monty, Miller surprises him with a hug and says jokingly, “Look who finally came to their senses.” Monty laughs and when they pull apart, Miller looks around confused. “Jasper didn’t come with you?” The smile falls from Monty’s face and he shakes his head. “Your mom?” Monty look away, closes his eyes. “Still with Pike.” Miller sighs and pulls him in for another hug. Monty sniffles, burying his face into Miller’s neck. “I missed you.” Eyes closing, Miller whispers back, “Missed you too.” When Bellamy’s voice comes through the walkie talkie in Monty’s pocket, they break apart and everyone turns to listen. “Monty, do you read me?” “Yeah, is everything okay?” “Just checking in. Is everyone at the cave? I’m heading out with Pike in a few minutes. Should be there within the hour.” “Everyone’s here. We’ll be ready.” “Copy that.” Octavia comes up to Monty. “Can I talk to him for a moment?” Monty nods and hands over the walkie. “Bellamy?” It takes him a few seconds to respond. “O? S’that you?” “Yeah, it’s me.” She hesitates, then says, “I’m sorry. For not trusting you.” Drugging you. Chaining you up. “I’m so sorry, Bell.” “It’s okay.” “It’s not. I should’ve trusted you. I do trust you. You know that right?” He hesitates. “Yes, of course I do, O. Always.” She can sense something in his words though. He doesn’t trust her, but he wants to. She nods even though he can’t see her, tells herself they’ll work on it. “I have to go, but I’ll see you soon, okay?” “Okay.” Octavia agrees, voice going soft. “I love you, big brother.” Warmth fills Bellamy’s chest and his eyes water. “I love you too, O. Stay safe.” Octavia turns back to everyone, putting her warrior face back on and hands the walkie to Monty. Harper speaks up. “Let’s kick some facist ass.” Everyone smiles at that. Meanwhile, Bellamy is with Pike, and can tell he’s suspicious as they make their way through the forest. Pike makes a comment about Bellamy not being the kind to betray his own blood. Before Bellamy can respond, shots fire out from the trees, killing everyone but Pike and Bellamy. Bellamy aims his gun at him. Pike narrows his eyes. “What are you doing?!” “Drop your weapon!” He does reluctantly, and then a shot is fired into Pike’s shoulder. He collapses to the ground and everyone comes out of the trees. Miller and Bryan pull him to his feet, and he glares at Bellamy. “You’ve killed us all.” Bellamy remains silent, then Octavia comes out of nowhere, almost knocking him off his feet with a hug. When they pull apart, he finds Kane’s eyes who pulls him into a hug. Bellamy cries. “You did good, son.” Indra and Kane take Pike to Polis, bringing the other Trikru with them, leaving Octavia, Bellamy, Monty, Harper, Miller, Bryan, Sinclair and Lincoln. By now, night is falling so they make a fire and rest for a bit, talking about what to do about Arkadia for a little, how they should probably inform Abby in the morning. Lincoln and Bellamy talk about how guilty he feels. He says that he wanted to spare the wounded, fought Pike so hard to let them live because immediately following the massacre, he knew what they’d done wasn’t right. He’d been so traumatized post Mount Weather, and as he said to Clarke when they’d argued after the massacre, he wasn’t going to let any more of his people die as a result of them trusting the grounders. He’d been so traumatized and afraid after all the times his people had died at the grounders hands, especially after Lexa’s betrayal, so angry and vengeful after the death of Gina and the others at Mount Weather. He’d not even considered for a second that the grounder army was there to protect them, and he admits he wouldn’t have trusted them anyways. He says he knows none of this is an excuse and that the decisions he made that day will haunt him forever, that he wishes he hadn’t let himself be manipulated. He’d just wanted to protect his people.  Lincoln nods, but doesn’t say anything for a short while. Then: “Lexa wasn’t honorable.” Bellamy looks at him. “But neither are you.” Bellamy swallows, and Lincoln stands, heading over to Octavia. She doesn’t react when he takes a seat next to her, glassy eyes transfixed on the fire. All the guilt for what she’d done to Bellamy is overwhelming, and it brings to the surface things she hadn’t allowed herself to be guilty about until now. When she speaks, he’s caught off guard by her words. “I shouldn’t have hit you.” Lincoln closes his eyes, reaches out to place his hand over top of hers, but she pulls her hand out of his grasp, tears falling from her eyes. “You were struggling with a forced drug addiction,” she starts, choking out the words, eyes trained on the fire, “and I-” she breaks off, “I slapped you in the face and implied you were weak for not being able to fight it.” Lincoln closes his eyes. “Then I drugged my brother and chained him to wall, so he couldn’t help me save you.” He looks at her and she shakes her head. “How can you even look at me right now?” He opens his mouth to say something, but at her words, he closes it. “All I do is hurt people...people who love me.” Her voice cracks, and she stands, walking off into the woods while Lincoln stares at the fire, eyes watery. He’s a pacifist, but being surrounded by violence all his life, it hadn’t occurred to him until now how unhealthy their relationship was. She’d abused him and he’d never brought it up, never acknowledged it. Neither had she. Until just now. His heart aches and he feels sick to his stomach, because he still loves her. He shakes off the thoughts though, tells himself that even though she’s hurting and apologized, he deserves better. He continues to look at the fire, wishing he’d gone with Indra to Polis. Meanwhile, Bellamy goes after Octavia. She breaks down, tells him to stay away from her, that he’d be better off without her. He hugs her and assures her that’s not true. She’s his sister and despite everything that’s happened, they always find their way back to each other. She says she broke up with Lincoln because she hit him, sobs into his shoulder that she needs help because her trauma has made her lash out at the people she loves. She hates the person she’s become, and Bellamy’s heart breaks because he never wanted this for her. He’d done everything he could to protect her, and still, it wasn’t enough. He holds her tighter. Back at Arkadia, Clarke returns only to come face to face with a rover. She argues with Jasper, about how she needs to see Lincoln. He says he’ll, “take her to him if she just gets in the fucking rover” and so she does. Instead of all the Blake scenes that happen in canon, he spends the rest of the season helping her with her trauma and how to love herself again. Jasper never tells Clarke that Lincoln died because he didn’t. When Jasper and Clarke reunite with everyone and they’ve saved Raven, they all head off to Arcadia where Octavia and Jasper don’t have that conversation about Maya and Lincoln because Lincoln didn’t die. There is no funeral because Lincoln didn’t die and Sinclair wasn’t killed by Emerson. Lincoln doesn’t allow them to go see Luna because “he never would have brought [war]” there. Instead, they spend some time in Arkadia trying to find a solution that doesn’t involve hunting down nightbloods because getting to Ontari seems unlikely. Clarke goes to see Bellamy in his room and after “I’m sorry for shocklashing you” and “I’m sorry for handcuffing you”, they laugh their eyes water and they’re practically crying. “I missed you.” she whispers and he cradles her face in his hands, presses a kiss to her forehead and then pulls her into a hug. Clarke melts into it, both of them burying their heads into each others shoulders, a silent apology for hurting each other. That night, Clarke spends the night in his room, running her fingers through his hair as he tells her about Octavia. By morning, they’re all snuggled up together, legs tangled, Clarke’s face buried in his chest. When they open their eyes, they wake slowly, telling each other about Gina and Lexa, how Bellamy was never able to open up to Gina completely, how Clarke was never able to trust Lexa. They say as much or as little as they want to, hands tangling and untangling, feeling safe and comfortable with each other. It feels so good they wish they could stay in the moment forever. Eventually, they have to get up though, so they wander out to where everyone else is talking about what they’re going to do next. They decide Sinclair, Raven, Monty, Harper, and Jasper will stay behind and learn as much as they can about the kill switch, while Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, Lincoln, Miller and Bryan head off to Polis to hopefully reach Ontari in time, not knowing of course that she’s been chipped. Jasper is never chipped and he and Monty reconcile. Indra and Octavia don’t talk about Lincoln because he didn’t die. Instead, Octavia opens up about breaking up with Lincoln and that she needs to work on her relationship will Bellamy. Right when Clarke reaches for Bellamy’s hand and he takes it, the chipped people make it into the room and before Clarke can go into the City of Light, a fight breaks out. Luckily, Murphy doesn’t have to pump Ontari’s heart and Clarke never goes into the COL because Raven got through the system and destroyed ALIE with the kill switch. There is no radiation coming. Raven radios in after the fact, and she laughs in relief when she finds out it worked. Pike is killed in the fight but not by Octavia, a step towards her getting better and learning not to channel her rage and trauma through violence and killing. Lincoln and Indra reunite, and eventually Lincoln heads off to live on Luna’s rig where no people ever died from ALIE or radiation. Skaikru needs a fresh start, so they all build a new settlement by the beach. They live in cabins and Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, and Monty are the leaders. Miller and Bryan along with Monty and Harper eventually break up when it becomes obvious Miller and Monty have feelings for each other. Abby and Kane are happy and in love. Even Murphy and Emori are happy at the new camp, and she doesn’t victim blame him for what happened with Ontari. Instead, she helps him through it. Octavia has been getting better with the help of Niylah and once she loves herself, the two fall in love. The Blake’s relationship developes into a healthy and mature and loving one. Niylah never forgives him for being a part of the massacre, but she learns to tolerate him when she comes to realize how much he loves his sister. Bellamy does everything he can to support their relationship and is extremely happy for Octavia. He’s never seen her so happy and carefree. She even gives up killing, learning that violence is not the only way to deal with her pain and trauma. Kane continues to be a father figure to Bellamy and Octavia. When a storm hits, Skaikru takes in Floukru. Luna and Raven fall in love, and Lincoln teases them about their feelings for each other until they finally get together. Adria almost becomes a daughter to Raven who treats the little girl as her own. One day, Abby tells Raven how sorry she is for slapping her months ago. Someone from Luna’s rig helps Jasper with his PTSD. Harper and Miller and Monty become even more of a best friend trio. Roan becomes the king/commander of all the clans, and does the best he can to bring peace. Skaikru trades regularly with them. When Bellamy and Clarke admit their feelings, it’s by accident. They share a cabin and sleep together - just sleep - and one day she is leaving when she lets an “I love you” slip. He kisses her, eyes watery when he says he loves her too because he never thought he’d feel he was in a safe place to admit those words. She pulls him in for another kiss, and they spend the rest of the day smiling and laughing and tangled up in each other, kissing each other anywhere they can and just letting go for once, because despite everything the Earth has thrown at them, they’re happy and in love and life is good.