finnsgrin

[finnsgrin]

how do you outwit your enemies

[finnsgrin]

lmao mood

what if i started writing again wouldnt that be hilarious

[finnsgrin]

Unmute !

[finnsgrin]

I lived in books more than I lived anywhere else.

Neil Gaiman (via quotemadness)

[finnsgrin]

Period Pain - Bellamy Blake

Bellamy Blake x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: bellamyblake

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Word count: 2,345

Published: September 24, 2021

TW: Menstruation, blood, mentions of nausea, some sexist comments, cursing

Spoilers: None

A/N: I wrote this for my lovely friend who is dealing with a rough period. I love you, C, and I hope you feel better🥺 Here is some Bellamy fluff for you! Also, I didn't proof read this, so, sorry for any mistakes!

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

♡Masterlist♡

Punching the number code into the keypad, you grumble to yourself as Murphys words ring in your head.

"God, why are girls even allowed on the scouting team? They're always too busy checking their hair. Why don't even need guns to fight off the grounders. We have (Y/N) here to scare them off. Is it just me, or is she crazier than usual today?" Murphys sexist comment was delivered with a smirk.

It probably didn't help your case that in response to Murphys asshole comment, you lunged at him, and hit him hard in the face with your elbow.

"IS THAT CRAZY ENOUGH FOR YOU MURPHY, IS IT?!?!" You had screamed at him.

You would have done some significant damage if Lincoln and Miller hadn't pried you off of Murphy.

"See what I mean? Crazy bitch." Murphy mumbled that last part under his breath, and it was a good thing Lincoln and Miller had both of your arms pinned behind your back, or you would have attacked him again.

"Murphy, enough!" Kane had hissed. He was head of the scouting group today, and it was too damn early for any of this nonsense.

"Murphy, you're on latrine duty." Kane continued, snatching the walkie talkie from Murphys hands.

"What?! That's so not fair!" He retaliated.

"What's wrong, Murphy? Not man enough to do it?" Harper smirked from her post, and Murphy shot her a death glare.

Murphy was still sulking as he walked out of the room, and you breathed a silent sigh of relief that he was gone.

You had to admit, Murphy had some balls saying something like that. Todays scouting group consisted of you, Miller, Lincoln, Monroe, Harper, and Octavia. Any one of you could easily take Murphy on. In fact, Harper had beat him in a sparring match just last night. What drove him to say such a thing was beyond you, but, Murphy usually never thinks before he speaks, so, It didn't entirely shock you.

What you had even done to warrant such a comment was beyond you. You had barely spoken two words to anyone that morning. Your guess was that Murphy was just talking to hear himself.

"(Y/N), you're off too. I want you to go back to your quarters, and get some rest." Kane continued.

The two men let go of you, and you shook your head quickly.

"Sir, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. I promise, I-"

Kane cut off your apology by holding up his hand.

"(Y/L/N), you're a good kid. I've never had any troubles with you before. Honestly, Murphy had it coming. He's said one too many misogynistic comments. I'm not allowed to punch kids, so, thanks for doing it for me." Kane gave you a small smile, and everyone in the room let out a laugh.

"So, if I'm not in trouble, why are you kicking me out?" You questioned, confused.

"You're pale as hell, (Y/N)." Miller answered for Kane, and Kane nodded in agreement.

"I feel fine." You said.

Okay, that was a lie. You felt like complete garbage. You were nauseous, and achy, and your skin was cold and clammy.

"Seriously, go get some rest. We'll have someone else take over for you." Kane extended his hand to you, beckoning you to hand over your walkie talkie.

You sighed, disappointed that you were missing out on todays scouting mission, but, admittedly, also kind of relieved that you could just go lay down and take a nap.

Everyone shot you looks of pity as you exited the room. You loved scouting missions, and everyone knew it. This was the first time you would ever missed one.

On your walk back to your dorm, you spotted Jackson, who gave you a friendly smile.

"Hey, (Y/N)! I thought you were on a scout?" The doctor took a moment out of his busy schedule to converse with you.

You sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you fought off an approaching headache.

"I was, until they sent me away. Said I looked sick." You used air quotations on the last two words, rolling your eyes.

"I'm gonna be honest. From a medical professionals point of view, you look like hell, (Y/N)." Jackson rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Gee, thanks. Is that your official diagnosis?" You scoffed.

"Just being honest. Come to medical if you start to feel any worse. Drink lots of fluids." Jackson gave you a quick pat on the back as he hurried off to help an injured man who was being carried in.

Your footsteps feel heavy, and you sway a bit to the side. Maybe it was a good thing you were being sent home.

Your boyfriend, Bellamy, was working with Clarke, Abby, and Monty today as they discussed the plans of rationing, and you were grateful he wasn't in your shared room to see you in such a state. He had so much to worry about, and you didn't want to add any stress to his plate.

When you enter your room, you kick off your hunting boots that were just a little too tight. It felt good to have your sore feet be free.

Your queen sized bed that you share with Bellamy is still a mess from the hurry you two were in this morning to get to work. You curl onto Bellamys side of the bed, breathing in his comforting scent of gun powder, and pine.

A deep ache resignates in your abdomen, and you groan, flipping onto your side and curling in the fetal position. Maybe you were catching the nasty stomach bug that was going around Arkadia.

You sigh as the pain eases, and close your eyes as you fall asleep.

***

When you awake, your mouth is dry, and the pain is worse. You remember Jacksons advice on staying hydrated, and sit up to get a glass of water.

You feel wet and sticky, and you wonder if you had sweat through a fever. You groan, and stretch. The clock on the wall says it's 12:15. You've been asleep for almost four hours. Bellamy sometimes comes back to your room for lunch, and you two talk about your day so far.

When you stretch, you feel something warm tricked down your leg, and you freeze in your tracks.

"Shit." You curse as you look down.

Your eyes are met with a dark trail of blood running down to the floor.

You whip around, and gasp when you see the giant blood stain on the white sheets. Bellamy could NOT see this.

You begin tearing the the blankets and pillows off of the mattress, your heart pounding as more blood pools at your feet.

The door gives a beep as it is unlocked and opened. It's too late to remake the bed.

Bellamy walks in, two plates of lunch balancing on his arm. Today, it's mashed turnips, and boiled deer meat.

He smiles as he walks in, but his face falls as he's met with your panicked expression, and the bloody bed sheets.

"Babe, what happened, are you okay?" He quickly sets the food on the desk in the corner of your room, and makes his way to you.

"I-" Before you can even say anything else, tears begin to uncontrollably fall from your eyes, and you break down into sobs.

Of COURSE it's your period.

On the Ark, people with periods were given a shot every three months to stop their period, as the Ark was incapable of providing pads and tampons to everyone. Sometimes, if they were low on the vaccine, you were given menstrual cups, but, in all honesty, that rarely happened.

Now that you were on the ground, there was no way to make the medicine, and Mount Weather had been blown up last week, so those with a uterus were being hit hard and fast with their period.

"Oh, princess." Bellamy took you into his arms, holding you close, and rubbing your back in a comforting manner.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I'll - I'll clean it up." Your words were broken as your emotions ran rampant. You were in pain, and felt sick, and you were so embarrassed.

"No, no, don't even worry about it. You go get in the shower. We'll have some cuddles when you get out. Does that sound nice?" Bellamy whispered in your ear, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

You pulled back, shocked by his words.

"You forget I helped raise my sister for 15 years." Bellamy chuckled as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I picked up some soap and put it in there last night. Take your time." His eyes were kind, and he wiped away your tears with his thumb.

"Thank you, Bell." You whisper.

If you had the energy in you, probably would have burst into tears again right then and there.

The walk to the shower is short. It's only a few feet away, but drops of blood still litter the floor.

You turn on the water, and wait for it to heat up.

As you strip, you almost pass out from the amount of blood in your pants.

Seriously, there was probably enough blood there to heal a dozen mountain men from radiation poisoning.

You take a deep breath in an attempt to control your nausea, and step into the shower. The water feels nice as you let it run over your body, cleaning you of sweat and blood.

The comments from earlier this morning make sense now. Looking pale, the mood swings, the dizziness...

You wash yourself with the soap Bellamy had brought home, and turn up the heat of the water in a desperate attempt to soothe your contracting muscles.

You were in the shower for maybe 10 minutes, just trying to wash away the grossness you were feeling, when you hear a knock at the door.

"Babe, can I come in?" You hear Bellamy on the other side.

"Yeah." Your voice is small, and you hear the door open.

The sliding glass door to the shower is fogged up from the heat of the water, but you can make out Bellamys clothed figure in the doorway.

"I put your pajamas by the fire outside so they could be a little warm. There's also some thick cloth, and clothes pins you can use to make sure you don't bleed through anything." Bellamy sets your clothes on the toilet seat.

"Thank you." You whisper.

Bellamy gives you a smile, a nod, and closes the door.

You stay under the hot water as long as you can until it manually shuts off. There's only so much heating the Ark can power.

You frown as the water turns off abruptly, and quickly dry off before blood can start flowing again.

The cloth and clothespins pinned to your underwear aren't very comfortable, but they're better than nothing, and it gives you some peace of mind knowing that you won't bleed onto the sheets again... hopefully.

The pajamas Bellamy set out for you are a pair of dark sleep shorts, and one of Bellamys shirts.

The warm clothes feel lovely against your skin, and you smile at the small act of kindness your boyfriend thought of for you.

You make sure your soiled pants are in the dirty laundry hamper before you exit the bathroom.

Bellamy isn't in his usual work clothes which consists of a bullet proof vest, and dark pants, and thick and heavy boots. He's wearing a pair of boxers, and an old tee shirt.

"I took the rest of day off of work so I can help take care of you." Bellamy explained before you could speak.

You give a small smile, and cross over to the bed where he's laying on. The sheets are fresh and clean, but he's laid a black towel on your side just incase of any accidents.

"That's sweet, Bell, but you didn't have to do that." You smile, and plop down next to him.

He immediately takes you into his arms, holding you close to his muscular chest.

"Octavia told me what happened today. How you freaked out at Murphy."

You open your mouth again, ready to defend your actions.

"I'm not gonna scold you. The shit probably deserved it." Bellamy chuckled.

You smiled, curling in deeper to his chest.

You liked how nothing was ever too serious with Bell. He didn't pressure you to talk when it wasn't serious.

A sudden wave of pain overtakes your entire body, and you flinch, a small scream protruding from your lips.

"Babe, babe, are you okay?" Bellamys eyes are flooded with worry, as you clench your eyes shit, your face contorted into pure pain.

You curl tightly into a ball, and your hands instinctively go to your stomach, where you wish you could rip out your uterus right then and there.

Bellamy sees where your hands are, and he takes his hands to replace yours. His hands are large, and warm. He gently lifts up your shirt, and begins to massage at the tense muscles  contracting beneath your skin.

"Jesus, babe." He whispers as you whimper at the contact.

"It hurts, Bell." You groan, tears rolling down your cheeks and into your ears.

Bellamys heart breaks at the sight of you. The girl he loves in pain. He would take it all from you in a heartbeat.

"Do you want me to tell you a story?" Bellamy speaks softly as he runs away at a knot in your stomach.

You nod, feeling a little sleepy. The hot shower relaxed your body, and stories always help relax your mind, especially when Bellamy tells them. His voice is just so soothing.

You nod, yawning.

Bellamy begins to tell a story about Aphrodite. He loves telling you stories about the goddess of beauty, because she reminds him so much of you.

You slowly lull off to sleep as Bellamys hands massage away your cramps, and his voice soothes away all of your worries.

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw bellamyblake bellamyblakeimagines the100bellamy the1000bellamy

[finnsgrin]

When you give your heart away, you usually get it back in pieces, fragments. And often, a great deal of time passes before you realize that every piece wasn’t returned to you—and probably never will be. You crave nothing more than to get those small—but vital—fragments back; to return to the unbroken, undamaged version of yourself. But what’s been broken cannot be unbroken, and so all you can do is learn to live with the void of the missing pieces, to somehow find beauty in the wreckage.

Krystal McLean (via quotemadness)

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL OMG I NEED TO DO AN EDIT OF THIS ASAP

insta: finnsgrin

shameless self promo OOPS

[finnsgrin]

Your Life With Monty Green Would Include... | Part 1

Monty Green x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: dance-to-the-radio

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Word Count: 2,095

Published on: October 21, 2020

Spoilers: S1

TW: Swearing,

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your life with Monty Green Would Include... | Part 1

♡Masterlist♡

• Being friends since birth

• Meeting Jasper, and the three of you becoming best friends

• When you got into preschool, the three of you would make sure no one sat alone at lunch

• Always sticking up for each other

• Monty and Jasper helping you with your science homework

• Watching the stars together

• Monty drawing away from you as you grew older, because he thought you had a crush on Jasper because you had been spending a lot of time with him

• When in reality you had been asking Jasper for advice, because you discovered you had feelings for Monty

• Jasper freaking out because he doesn't know how to keep a secret

• A few weeks later Jasper just couldn't take it anymore

• In math class one day Monty leaned over and asks Jasper if he could borrow a pencil

• To which Jasper responds with "Y/N has a crush on you!"

• You being absolutely mortified and running out of the class

• Monty following after you

• And not being able to find you

• But he finally finds you at the window where you two would spend hours just staring at the sky

• "Y/N-."

• "If you're gonna reject me, could you please not do it here? I don't want to remember this window as the place where my heart got broken."

• Monty wiping the tears from under your eyes, and tilting your head up so you're looking at him

• "The last thing I ever want to do is break your heart."

• You being genuinely confused

• "But, you've been so... distant these past few weeks. I thought you didn't like me anymore for some reason." You whisper

• Monty chuckling and shaking his head

• "I thought you had a thing for Jasper. I didn't want to get into your guys' business." He admits.

• Everything cleared up, and the two of you being absolutely relieved

• Looking at Montys lips and just wanting to kiss him so badly...

• But he clears his throat and backs away, giving you a smile

• Jasper apologizing profusely for the next month

• You laying awake in bed at night confused

• Did Monty feel the same way?

• No... no, he didn't. If he did, he would have told you, right?

• Everything going back to normal

• But you can't help but stare at him for a little longer than usual, or position your hand on the homework desks so that your hands are touching

• And, sometimes, you think you catch him staring at you

• And you feel an electric buzz whenever your hands brush past each other

• You being taken into questioning when the two of them get arrested

• The guards testing your patience

• "You didn't know anything about this, Miss (Y/N)?"

• "That's what I told you the first seven times, officer."

• Being absolutely pissed at Monty and Jasper for being so careless

• Wondering what you could have done to prevent it

• The first 24 hours being pure agony, as you wait for the both of them to come out of solitary

• Not sleeping the first night

• Sprinting down to lockup the minute visiting hours are open

• Being very confused when you find out that Monty and Jasper are in separate cells

• Of course asking to see Monty first

• Him being relieved to know that you're not in any trouble

• "What the hell happened?" You whisper

• Him telling you everything

• "Damn it, Mont..."

• His heart breaking because the last thing he ever wanted to do was disappoint you

• The two of you just sitting in silence for a while until a guard comes to take you away, informing you that your hour is up

• "Man, I couldn't imagine being locked away from my girlfriend." The teenage guard says as the two of you walk side by side

• You furrowing your brows in confusion

• "What?" You ask him

• "Your boyfriend, Green? The one who got locked up for the weed? He's been asking about you non stop. "Where's (Y/N)?" "Is she going to get in any trouble?" "I can't believe I fucked up this bad."

• "He - He's not my boyfriend." You grumble.

• The prison guard just chuckles and shakes his head.

• "I think you better tell him that." Ths guard smiles at you. (Stranger Things anyone?)

• The guard taking you to Jasper, who is salty about this entire situation

• Jasper blaming Monty for the whole arrest

• You being the mediator and attempting to smooth everything over between the two boys

• Conveying messages to each other

• Both of then being very passive aggressive, so you add in "I miss you" at the end of each message

• Them eventually forgiving each other

• School not being the same without them

• You having nightmares nearly every night of them getting floated

• Sometimes you would fall asleep when you were visiting with Monty, because the only time you didn't have nightmares were when you were with him

• You talked to yourself a lot and had trouble with understanding how you really felt about Monty

• Sometimes you would go to the window where the three of you used to stargaze

• But one night you lost track of time, which resulted in staying out after curfew, and you were taken to lockup

• "This is bullshit!" You screamed through tears as you were handcuffed

• The guard punching you in the face for "threatening him"

• Jasper and Monty freaking out after you hadn't been to see them for a week

• Them eventually finding out that you had been arrested for staying out after curfew

• Monty being worried sick, since your 18th birthday was closer then his

• Jasper calming him down

• "I love her, Jasper. And now I'll never be able to tell her." Monty says as he cries

• You worrying every night about the boys, but especially Monty

• The three of you being overjoyed when you're put into earth skills with Pike

• Monty freaking out when he sees the bruise on your face

• But you reassuring him that you're fine

• You making the boys pay attention to the demonstrations in earth skills, because what else is there to do?

• Despite the week of classes you and Monty have together, Monty doesn't tell you how he really feels.

• Which kind of disappoints you, because the whole reason you were even here in the first place, is because you were too lost in thought of Monty one night and lost track of time

• It taking every thing in Jasper to not spill the beans

• You and Monty absolutely losing your shit when you're taken out of your cells so forcefully, you both fear you're getting floated without trial

• Regrets running rampant through your minds as you mentally beat yourselves up for not admitting your love towards each other

• Jasper feeling guilty, too, because he could have just snitched and gotten you and Monty together

• You and Monty being seated next to each other in the dropship and taling each others hands without thinking

• Monty realizing that all of you were probably going to die, and if he was going to let you know that he loved you, he needed to do it now

• "(Y/N), there's something I have to tell you!" Monty screams.

• You turning to face him, with tears streaming down your face

• He takes a deep breath and begins

• "I lo-."

• You being knocked unconscious as Finn Collins falls on you

• Monty freaking out when you all are finally allowed to unbuckle from your harnesses, and cradling you in his arms

• Earth just not being as beautiful as he thought it would be, because you weren't by his side to enjoy it with him

• Clarke informing him that you would be out for a few hours

• Monty being reluctant to leave your side, but Jasper convincing him, because he knew that you would want them to go help Clarke to Mount Weather

• Finn catching up to Monty, and laying a hand on his shoulder

• "Hey, man, I'm really sorry for using your girlfriend as a landing pad." He apologizes to Monty

• Monty just grumbling in response

• Jasper visibly smirking when Monty doesn't let Finn know that he isn't in a relationship with you

• Monty playfully shoving Jasper

• Monty stopping every few minutes to pick flowers for you

• And the group getting annoyed

• Finn helping him pick flowers, because it's the least he could do for knocking you unconscious

• Monty dropping the flowers on the ground as he watches Jasper get speared in the chest

• You being awake when the group returns to the dropship, but your heart sinking when you realize that Jasper isn't with them

• Didn't Bellamy say that he was with them?

• Monty running into your arms and holding you tight as his tears seep into your shirt

• You holding him and rubbing his back soothingly as Clarke explains what had happened

• You forgetting entirely that Monty has been trying to tell you something before you were knocked out

• Because right now, Jasper could be dead

• You holding Monty through the night as he cries softly

• And you singing him the lullabies your mother used to sing to you when you were a child

• Monty holding you tight, because he couldn't bare the thought of losing Jasper, but losing you too? That was just too much

• Staying behind with him the next morning as the search party left to look for Jasper

• And you trying to help him make contact with the Ark

• And he was so stressed and worried and sleep deprived that he was focusing so intently on his work, he didn't even seem to notice your presence

• You keeping Octavia company when Atom locks her up

• And getting to know her

• After Octavias bracelet short circuits, you offer yours

• "No, (Y/N). Your mom and dad are on the Ark. You don't want them thinking that you're dead." Monty replies.

• "But Monty-."

• "I know what it's like to think that someone I love is dead! The answer is no!"

• The three of you sitting in silence after that

• Hours passing and the anxiety in the room growing

• When they finally return, you do all you can to help aid in Jaspers recovery

• Monty refusing to let you go help the others look for the seaweed

• Even though you were a better tracker than Finn

• "Please. I can't lose you." Monty begs through tear filled eyes

• You staying behind with him and Jasper

• You tackling Murphy to the ground when you realize he's going to kill Jasper

• You and Monty being separated in the drop ship, with him up on top with Octavia and Jasper, and you on the lower level with Murphy and the others

• "You touch her, I swear to God!" Monty screaming at Murphy through the hatch

• When the others finally return with the seaweed, you feel hope

• And you and Monty holding hands tightly as you wait for Jasper to wake up

• "(Y/N)?" Monty whispers

• You looking at him with tired eyes and unbrushed hair, but still looking like the most beautiful girl in the world to him

• "Yeah, Mont?"

• Him opening and closing his mouth, seemingly at a loss for words, but he finally finds the courage

• "Tomorrow isn't promised. I realized this after the... accident. And... we could have died on our way down here. And I tried to tell you but I-."

• "Monty, just spit it out." You chuckle.

• "I'm in love with you." He finally admits

• Your smile falters, and for a moment his eyes flash with panic, because didn't you have a crush on him 3 months ago? Did he do something wrong to change your feelings for him?

• But you break into the world's biggest smile, and a tear slides down your cheek

• "Oh, Monty... I'm in love with you, too." You whisper

• Him wanting to kiss you, but both Finn and Octavia are watching with wide eyes and toothy grins

• And he wanted your first kiss to be private and special

• So he just pulls you in for a hug, which you gladly return

• "Finally." You hear a familiar voice croak

• Jasper is awake, and all of you rush over to him

• As Clarke tends to Jaspers wound, you take Montys hand, and give it a squeeze

• And Jasper gives Monty a not so subtle thumbs up, and a wink

• Finn being genuinely confused, because this entire time he thought you and Monty had been a couple

• As did the rest of the camp

• Because although you two had thought you were being so subtle and sneaky, it was pretty obvious that you two were head over heels for each other

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw montygreen montygreenimagines the100monty the100montygreen the

[finnsgrin]

Once Upon A Time - Monty Green

Monty Green x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: daily-hundred

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Monty Green

Based on S1

Spoilers: None

Acid fog nearly takes both you and Monty out, but you are able to seek shelter, where questions are answered, and truths are revealed.

Word Count: 5,045

Published on: July 12, 2020

TW: Talk about burns and infections which are kind of gross. Monty and Jasper being assholes lmao

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

♡Masterlist♡

"Oh, come on! Do I really have to be paired with HER?"

Monty's words stung as we were assigned our partners for the gathering of the woods where we picked berries, hunted, and kept an eye out for anything useful.

Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin had carefully constructed a list of people who they thought would work best together. Jasper and Monty were separated, because whenever the both of them are together, nothing ever gets done. I guess no one got the memo that Monty Green now hates my guts.

I didn't even think about who I was being paired up with, because it's such a trivial thing compared to what we were currently facing on the ground. Gosh, if Clarke and Bellamy told me to work with John Murphy, I would do it without complaints. They were just trying to keep us alive. Grounders were the number one worry on their plate. They didn't need petty teenage drama.

"You have a problem with (Y/L/N)?" Bellamy raised an eyebrow and looked at the both of us. Monty and I had been best friends since we started crawling, and this definitely threw him for a loop.

I grit my teeth together, and struggled to remain composed.

Breath... just breathe... I forced myself to take deep breaths in through my nose, and exhaled out through my mouth.

"I'll switch you the traitor for the pyromaniac." Jasper stood next to Murphy whom he had been assigned to. Why Clarke and Bellamy thought that was a good idea? We may never know.

"Gladly." I heard Monty grumble under his breath.

"Enough, the both of you. The pairings are final." Bellamy boomed, his authoritative voice echoing through the trees.

I did my best to pay attention. I honestly did. But it was kind of difficult to do that when I had Monty and Jasper glaring at me the entire time.

Heat flooded to my cheeks, and I blinked back tears.

I wouldn't let them see me cry. Not for something that wasn't even my fault.

"Alright, break!" Bellamy jumped down from the boulder which he was standing on to get everyone's attention, and people began to split off into different directions.

"Well? Are you coming?" Monty sneered at me as I looked around, confused as to what was happening and what I should do.

I opened my mouth to ask which direction we were heading, but all I got in response was a scowl.

"Typical. Still pretending you're innocent, (Y/N)? What else is new?" Jasper shoved beside me not being the least bit gentle of my shoulder which had been injured in the drop ship crash. That idiot Finn Collins just had to defy the laws of gravity, and use my body as his landing pad.

I ground my teeth together, rubbing the ache away.

Jasper and Monty walked ahead of me, and I allowed myself a few tears to fall from my eyes.

"What happened to the Three Musketeers?"

I jumped, unaware that I wasn't alone.

John Murphy stood next to me, his eye beginning to blacken after the blow Pike delivered to it.

To confide, or not confide?

I realized now how much their hatred towards me was weighing on me, and I needed to talk about it to someone. Even if it was John Murphy.

"They think I ratted them out on the Ark." My voice was hardly a whisper, and I noticed Jasper and Monty begin to slow down. Almost as if they were attempting to listen in on the hushed conversation I was having with everyone's least favorite convict.

"Did you?" Murphy kicked a stick out of the way, startling a nearby squirrel up a tree.

I shook my head.

"Of course not. They're my best friends. Why would I do that?" I said.

"We WERE your best friends. Past tense." Jasper corrected me from up ahead.

I fought the urge to pick up the stone that was near my foot and chuck it so hard at Jaspers head that-

"(Y/L/N)! Murphy! What are you two doing? You're not paired up. Get with your partner, and head out! I don't want to have to warn you again!"

Bellamy's order snapped me out of my fantasy, and Murphy gave me a quick nod as he and Jasper fell behind Monty and I to set snares.

Where Monty and I were even going was a mystery to me, but I found myself wishing Murphy was here. At least I could talk to him. Between just the two of us here, the only sounds were the crunching of leaves underneath our boots, and the occasional chirp from a bird.

On more than one occasion, I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

How would Monty feel if he knew the truth? If he knew what had really happened the day he and Jasper were taken into custody?

But it wasn't me who broke the silence. It was Monty.

"You know, it's a comfort knowing that Jasper and I aren't the only ones on the ground who were betrayed by someone they've known their whole lives. Well's ratted out Clarke's dad. Got him floated, and Clarke locked in a cell. Maybe all of us could sit around the fire sometime for some T.A; Traitors anonymous,"

Unclipped fingernails dug into the palm of my hand, and it took everything in me to not scream the entire truth of it all.

"Except, it wouldn't be completely anonymous. Because you and Wells would be the traitors, and the rest of us would-."

"Monty, shut up."

Monty crossed his arms across his chest, and scoffed.

"What? Afraid of the truth?"

"Monty, seriously, stop talking."

I think it was the genuine fear in my eyes that convinced the boy to shut up.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I frowned, my eyes darting around the forest which surrounded us.

All seemed normal from the perspective of someone who wasn't observant.

It was just a forest. What did you expect?

Trees with moss. Fallen trunks sprouting fungi. The rustle of the leaves when the breeze came by. Peaceful. Quiet.

No, not quiet.

Silent.

I gasped, the absence of any other mammal besides Monty suddenly apparent to me.

My eyes scanned the trees anxiously, and my stomach dropped when I couldn't even catch a glimpse of a wing.

There were no squirrels, no rabbits, no birds... not even insects.

"(Y/N), what's going on?"

Monty had grabbed my shoulders and began to shake them roughly.

I wasn't even aware of the pain in my right shoulder that resurfaced with the extra movement.

I just knew we needed to leave.

Now.

My body reacted faster than my mind, and I found myself physically dragging Monty through the woods by his wrist.

Dirt flew up from underneath our feet, and got in our mouths. Thorn bushes caught our clothes and snagged our flesh.

My eyes searched frantically for somewhere, anywhere we could take shelter in.

"Hold up, hold up!"

Monty had planted his feet firmly on the ground, and no amount of me yanking him could make him budge.

"Monty, we have to go! We have to go right now! Please!" I pleaded with him, the silence becoming deafening.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." He frowned, clearly having the idea in his mind that I was losing mine.

I took a deep breath.

"Do you remember the classes we took with Pike before we came down here?" I managed to slow down my words so they were manageable enough to comprehend.

He rolled his eyes again.

"Number one, we didn't come down here. We were forced down here. And, number two, what do you think? No one paid attention to anything."

"Except me, Monty! And Pike said that-."

"Pike also said the earth wasn't survivable. I'll take his word with a grain of salt." Monty shrugged away from my touch, and began trekking forward.

"Monty, there are no animals around! None! Something is wrong. It could be an earthquake, or a storm, or-."

"How about a friend who betrayed you? I'll take an earthquake over that any day!" He interrupted me, his spit flying in my face.

That was it.

That was the last straw.

He was about to know the truth.

Oh, who cared if he believed me, or not? I just needed to say it once.

But it wasn't the truth that was sounded.

It was a horn.

At least, I think that's what a horn sounds like.

It echoed throughout the forest, bouncing off the trees.

It came out of nowhere.

Not just the horn, but the fog that clouded behind us.

A fluorescent green, it screamed danger.

It screamed death.

My feet were one with the ground, and I struggled to move.

Everything weighed heavy.

My feet, my legs, the air, his words...

"Come on! We have to move!"

Static rang in my ears and I probably wouldn't have been able to walk if Monty hadn't literally shoved me forward, giving my body the push it needed to escape.

It was his turn to roughly grab my wrist and drag me through the forest. Whatever this fog was made of, it was moving, and it was moving fast.

"To the left!" My voice was hoarse, and I prayed Monty could hear me over the horn which was still sounding.

He did, and he dragged me to the left where a cave was.

He pushed me in first, and he soon followed.

But not before the sizzle of flesh could be heard coming from him body.

Monty let out a painful cry, and threw himself on the ground of our shelter, which was damp soil and rock from the trapped condensation.

He curled himself up tightly in a ball, his hands protecting his neck.

The fog seemed to move right past us. Luckily, it didn't have a sense of direction. All it knew was straight.

My hands hovered over his body, unsure of what to do.

"Let me see your arm." My own words sounded far away as I gently prodded his left arm. It was bare, and the hair had either burnt off, or had been charred. With little to no light, I doubted I was seeing even the half of it.

Monty hissed, pulling away instinctively. I didn't blame him. It looked like it hurt like hell. His once soft and tan skin had folded up and was bunched together in a puffy sort of way. Angry red was beginning to appear, and I recognized this as a chemical burn.

"So, what's the verdict, Doc? You obviously paid attention in earth skills. What do you know about this?"

Monty's voice was soft, and if it weren't for the tremble in his voice, I would have taken this as a sarcastic ass comment. But it wasn't. It was genuine. The poor boy was hurting, and he needed help.

I wracked my brain for something, anything to recall. Sure, I remembered about the animal signs, but that was in the heat of the moment when I wasn't thinking about anything except the fact that I was with the person who probably hates me the most.

But this was now, and this was real. This wasn't a simulation, or the stupid role playing Pike forced us to do in class.

Water. We needed water, and we needed it now.

My hands pawed at the interior of our shelter, and I let out a sigh of relief when moisture came into contact with my slightly scraped hands. The cold felt good.

Stumbling in the dark, my eyes struggled to succumb to their new surroundings.

If the walls were wet, that had to mean there was water nearby.

Drip... Drip... Drip.

Yes! My heart soared as I neared closer and closer to the distinct pattering of water a good ways toward the back of the cave.

"Wh-What are you doing?! There could be something back there! A bear, or something!" Monty rose to his feet, limping towards me. The fog had taken a toll on his legs, too.

I rolled my eyes.

Like he cared.

He despised me.

The only reason he was even worried about a bear is because if I got attacked, that meant his burns would go untreated, and he would get attacked, too.

Without warning, a steady stream of frigid water began to trickle on the top of my head, and I gave a surprised gasp.

I heard Monty go silent.

"It's okay. It's water, which is exactly what we need. Can you make it over here? Follow the sound of my voice." My words echoed throughout the enclosed space, and I made a mental note to start a fire soon. It would be helpful to see, and it was cold in here.

"Okay. Where are you?" Monty called back, sounded farther away.

"I'm over here. You know, in the opposite direction of outside." I smirked.

Monty laughed once, and hissed in pain.

I bit my lip.

Why did I care so much? He hated me. Why did I still care?

"You saved us back there." Monty sounded closer.

"I guess paying attention comes in handy." I answered numbly.

Monty was now directly in front of me.

I could hear his breathing, and feel his body heat radiate off of him.

We both breathed shallowly for a moment in the dark, and I could have sworn his hand brushed past mine, but I shook it off as an accident, and gently laid my hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, there's a stream of water just right over here. It's really cold, but it'll help your burns. I'm gonna try to get a fire started." I hurried away from the burned boy before I could say or do something stupid that I know would be regretful.

As I ventured more towards the one and only opening of the cave, I heard Monty sigh in relief as the water treated his burns.

It was better, now. I could see a little bit. Whatever the hell that fog was made of covered the sun and gave the effect that the world was bathed in green.

I scavenged for dry twigs and leaves and rocks along the side of the cave, until I had decent enough pickings to start a small fire.

I took my time walking back to where Monty was. I needed time to gather my thoughts. There were so many of them.

Where was everyone else? Did they manage to seek shelter?

Were Monty and I being worried about? Surely Jasper would be afraid for Monty, but he could care less about me.

And what about Monty's burns? I remember when we learned about the Second World War in History class. There were a lot of bombs. Some of them burned the people so bad, it rendered the limb completely useless. Sometimes they died of radiation, or infection.

Monty groaned a few feet away from me, and I bit the inside of my cheek, kneeling down to assemble what I had managed to find.

Several rocks later, and a lot of cursing, a spark landed on the tinder, and the flames grew to the size of an average campfire.

It was nice to have the fire now. We could both see, and be a little warmer.

What wasn't good was the reaction Monty got when he caught sight of his injuries.

He gasped, stumbling back and hitting the wall.

The water was supposed to make him better.

But it did the complete opposite.

The angry red was now a furious crimson, and puss began to ooze from several openings that blisters had popped open.

I swallowed a gag, and put on a brave face for Monty.

"This happens sometimes. We just need to clean it. Can you sit?" I gestured to the floor, and he gladly took a seat.

Good.

I didn't need him to pass out and get a concussion.

I may have paid attention in classes, but I was no doctor. This was a job for Clarke.

Think, think! What would Clarke do?

Well, first off, Clarke wouldn't be a wimp about this.

I thought back to the times where she cared for those at camp. She always seemed so put together no matter what she was faced with.

I took deep breaths to steady myself, and shimmied my backpack off of my shoulders where a few emergency supplies were tucked away.

Bellamy had given everyone a knife, and that's the first thing I pulled out. In one swift move, I had cut Monty's shirt off of his body.

"Hey!" He objected as soon as he felt the absence of clothing on his body.

"Your skin has to be able to breath. Sorry." I took the cloth and began tearing it into long strips that could be used for bandaging.

Yes, I recall Clarke doing this when someone was stabbed or shot or burned.

Now came the hard part.

My trembling fingers hovered above his right forearm, which is where the burns were the worst.

What would Clarke do, now?

I knew exactly what she would do. I just didn't want to have to do it.

"(Y/N)? Are you okay?" I heard Monty's voice low in my ear.

My rapid breathing was full of anxiety, and I mentally slapped myself for losing my cool the moment things got even close to being bad.

I was never one for the medical field. I don't know how people did it. Needles and blood were my biggest fear. How was I supposed to do this?

"I don't know how Clarke does this." I spoke through clenched teeth as I began to sterilize my blade with the heat from the fire.

I heard Monty gulp as he came to the realization of what was about to happen. Clarke had to do this when Jasper came back with the infected wound in his chest. Monty saw how bad it hurt Jasper.

"(Y/N)..." His voice was soft, and it broke my heart.

Orange and red cascaded the silver blade, and I turned to Monty.

"Monty, I'm sorry, but I have to do this."

A tear ran down my cheek as Monty cowered against the cave wall. He took deep breaths to calm himself down.

"Here, bite on this." I unhooked my leather belt with my free hand that wasn't wielding the flaming knife, and handed it to Monty who's hands shook.

I felt dizzy, and the lack of equipment made me uneasy. At least on the drop ship we had disinfectant and suture supplies.

On three.

One...

Two...

"AHHHHH!" Monty screamed as I sliced open the first wound. Blood and creamy puss oozed from it, and I swallowed my own vomit.

I used my hands to squeeze out as much puss as I could, and then I took Monty's a strip of Monty's shirt and pressed it firmly to the cut until the bleeding was under control. Then, I reheated the blade and cauterized it shut.

This went on for at least an hour. He had at least a half dozen burns on his left arm, a couple on his hands, and a few on the back of his thigh. I had to stop every now and then when the smell of burning flesh became too much for me and I had to turn my head and vomit into the dirt.

When it was finally over, the tears had dried to his face, and his breathing came out hitched.

I threw the knife across the cave where it bounced off the cement wall with a clank.

Green was still evident outside, and I didn't doubt that we would have to spend the night in this cave together.

I got up without a word and made my way to where the steady stream of water came from.

Monty's shirt was toast. It was destroyed in the first place, with blood and pus speckling it. I took the bottom half of my own shirt and ripped off a good portion of it. Then I got it wet with the water. I walked back to Monty and persuaded him to open his mouth. I squeezed the liquid down his throat, and then took the damp cloth and laid it across his right arm.

He sighed. I couldn't imagine how good the cold must feel.

"Thank you." He sighed, a grateful smile dancing on his pink lips.

I nodded curtly once, even though his eyes were shut and he couldn't see me.

The fire was dying, so I used what dry kindling was around us, and fed the flames which grew.

Now all there was to do was wait for the fog to disappear.

I situated myself across from Monty, and sat with my forehead resting on knees which were tucked snuggly against my chest.

"Tell me a story." I heard Monty's voice heavy with fatigue from the activities of the day.

I allowed myself a dark chuckle. Back on the Ark, Jasper, Monty, and I used to make up stories to pass the time. One of us would start, and we would take turns feeding the story.

"I'll start," Monty adjusted his leg to a more comfortable position.

"Once upon a time, there was boy and a girl. They lived on an Ark in space." Monty's words were loud enough for me to hear what was being said, and I could hear how uncomfortable he was. And he had the right to be.

Where was this supposed to go?

I decided to play along. What else did I have to do?

"The boy and the girl did everything together. They were the best of friends," I continued, my voice small as I took a damp leaf and picked it apart into shreds.

Monty grew silent.

What was he supposed to say next?

"One day, everything changed." My voice grew thick with emotion.

"The boy, and his friend, Jasper, snuck into the farm on the Ark, and they stole herbs." Monty continued for me, ending in a regretful scoff.

I took a breath, and swallowed.

"The girl took the blame of telling on them, in fear for the heartbreak both boys would surely feel if they were to figure out the truth of who really told,"

Monty frowned, and narrowed his eyes. Every story that we ever told together was fictional, but this was different. He probably thought I was making this up. I waited for him to interrupt and tell me to cut the bullshit.

"The girl knew who told, but she took the blame. The boys were her best friends, and she loved them both more than anything in the world." My voice broke at the end.

The only noise was our breathing, the drips of the water, and the crackling of the fire.

"Is there a part to the story that I'm unaware of?" Monty asked me.

I nodded quickly, a tear falling onto the dirt floor. I forced myself to make eye contact with him, and he listened intently.

"The boy and the girl are on the ground, now," I continued.

"And the girl is so scared that the boy won't believe her. Why would he? He's spent the last year hating her." I bit my bottom lip.

"The boy never hated the girl. He just hated what she did." Monty stared at me with pain in his eyes.

"Or for what she didn't do." I snapped.

He blinked, waiting for me to continue.

"Both boys don't know the truth of it all." My voice had fallen to a whisper.

"The girl never told on her friends. How petty is that? She would have never told anyone. Why would she? It was the boys mother. She had a reputation to uphold, and knew the following year, 100 delinquents would be sent to the ground. She made sure her boy was on the list."

Monty's mouth slightly fell open, and sadness registered across his face.

"Once the girl found this out, she had to do something. She wouldn't let her friends be alone in prison. So, she did something to get her thrown in a cell. She punched the boys mother in the face. It was the least she could do." I smiled at the memory. Punching Hannah Green in the face was probably the highlight of my life on the ship. I never liked her. She was too strict on Monty, and was always on the lookout to report anyone who put a toe out of line.

"Both boys spent a year in a cell together despising the girl, for they believed it was her who ratted them out. And, she let them believe that. For the longest time. How heartbroken would the boy be if he found out his own mother who turned him in? The girl remained silent, and took the hateful words from the boys who used to be her friends."

Monty's face registered emotion, now. Sorrow and regret flutter across his face.

"(Y/N)..." He whispered.

I held up my hand, indicating that the story wasn't yet finished.

"Now the boy and the girl sit together in a cave, with reflection on their faces, and memories haunting their minds. The girl doesn't expect the boy to believe her. Why would he? The girl just wants the boy to know that it wasn't her. She would have never done anything like that. And she's so grateful every day on the ground, because she can see both of the boys happy as they smile at the chirp of a bird, or gaze in awe at the sky. Even if the boy never does believe her, she wouldn't blame him. It's his mother. That's bound to be a hard truth to swallow. This stories ending has not yet been determined, but the girl hopes it ends with the truth being realized."

We didn't speak for a while, and my words echoed in the cave. Monty's frown was evident as he pondered over the words that had just come out of my mouth.

"My-My mom? My mom is the one who turned us in?" Monty's eyes were full of unshed tears, and his voice was numb.

A tear fell down my cheek, and I walked over to Monty, laying my hand on his knee which was one of the only parts of his body which wasn't burned.

"I'm so, so sorry, Monty." I whispered.

He turned to me, and I used the pads of my thumbs to wipe away the tears which began to trail down his face.

"Why didn't you tell me this before? Why did you make us believe it was you?" He asked me.

I smiled gently.

"Because I knew how sad you would be. You were already going through so much. You didn't need that added on top of it all."

He blinked, tears dripping off of his long eyelashes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He cried.

There was nothing else to say in this fragile moment. The story settled upon us like a blanket, and Monty laid his tired head on my shoulder. I stroked his hair with my hands, and began to hum a lullaby.

I don't know how long we were asleep for, but when I opened my eyes, the sky was clear and the green was gone.

I extinguished the fire by smothering it with damp dirt, and Monty and I walked out of the cave. Twilight was approaching, and we needed to get back to camp before it fell dark.

It was a slow process. Walking. Because Monty was so hurt. The majority of his body weight rested on me as I half carried him back to camp, where everyone had been taking shelter in the drop ship.

It seemed like no one else had been hurt. Maybe a few people had skinned their knees as they ran and tripped, but Clarke ordered Monty into the drop ship so she could get a good look at him.

"You did everything right, (Y/N). I think all we can do now is just disinfect and wait for the wounds to heal." Clarke gave me a smile, and I felt happy with the reassurance that I didn't make things a hundred times worse with my little experience in the medical field.

"It should have been you." Jasper seethed at me, his eyes like daggers.

"Hey! Cut it out!" Monty sat abruptly, and winced at the sudden movement.

Bellamy nudged Clarke, and nodded to the door where everyone else was. The two of them left to give Jasper, Monty and I some privacy.

"Why are you defending her? She's the reason-."

"No, she's not, actually. She just took the blame, Jasper. And you don't have to believe it, but I do. And it makes sense." Monty quipped.

My eyes filled with unshed tears, and I realized how tired I actually was. I sat myself down on a chair and put my face in my hands.

Monty recalled the truth I had spoken while we were in the cave, and I glanced up occasionally to see Jaspers reaction. At first, he didn't believe a word of it. But when Monty's eyes began to water, and his voice grew thick, Jasper turned to me, with emotion in his voice and sorrow in his eyes.

"(Y/N)?"

It was the first time he had spoken my name to me in a soft voice that wasn't full of apathy.

I slowly raised my head, and Jasper knelt down in front of me, pulling me into a bear hug.

I could feel his tears soak into my shirt, but I didn't mind.

The truth was out, and I was more than grateful that they didn't think it was a lie.

Hannah's plan was to tear us apart, but it only brought us together.

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw montygreen montygreenimagines the100monty the100montygreen the

[finnsgrin]

Bellamy Blake - “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Part 2

Bellamy Blake x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: heartbellamy

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Word Count: 1,875

Published on: Friday, November 20, 2020

TW: None

Spoilers: None

Summary: S3

A/N: Much requested by my sister, who claimed that the ending of the first part was a cliffhanger. Enjoy. Also, I understand that Miller wasn't with Pike, but I forgot he wasn't when I wrote this, so for the sake of the story just pretend he is apjppsoeods

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♡Masterlist♡

Part 1

Bellamy Blake

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Part 2

As if things couldn't get any worse, the moment you got to Harpers door, you remembered that she was out on a supply run with Octavia, leaving her door locked, and you stranded in the hallway with tears in your eyes.

"Damn." You cursed as you racked your brain for the key code.

"Need some help?" A familiar voice sounded behind you.

Monty stood in a guards uniform, the bulletproof material looking strange on him. Never in a million years would you have envisioned him in the guard. Let alone the bad part of the guard.

Anger swelled in you, and although you knew that Monty didn't directly take a role in Lincoln's murder, you still resented him for playing the part and sticking at his Moms side when he knew it was wrong.

"You here to kill me too?" You set down your bag, and stared him straight in the eyes.

Although he was at least a foot taller than you, he still backed up, and pity glistened in his eyes.

"(Y/N), I didn't mean to - ."

"You could have talked some sense into them, Monty!"

"I didn't have a choice!" Monty hissed.

You shook your head, picking up your bag with your few belongings.

"There's always a choice." You whispered as you made your way away from him before you did something you would regret.

Maybe with Kane or Abby as Chancellor, the rules would be different.

Scratch that.

They would definitely be different.

Curfew was 9 pm for every citizen of the Ark, excluding the guard, of course. If you were caught out after curfew, no matter the reason, you were shocklashed if you were over the age of 16.

This new rule, including the shorted curfew, and the extensive punishment were mandated by Pike.

Your eyes scoured the walls of the corridors for a clock, but they were empty. You could tell that curfew was approaching, because little to no people were in the halls, and those who were, were hurrying back to their assigned quarters.

Even if you turned back now, there was no guarantee that Harper was back yet, and there was no way in hell you were going back to your room with Bellamy.

In fact, maybe you would stay out in the halls on purpose. Maybe this would result in you getting shocklashed, and Bellamy would finally open his eyes.

Maybe Bellamy would even be the one to do it to you.

"Weren't you arrested in the first place for being out past curfew?"

Jasper startled you as he spoke, leaning against the frame of his door, bottle of moonshine in hand.

You eyed him.

"Weren't you arrested for stealing booze?" You sneered.

He only laughed, his words becoming more slurred as he downed another gulp of his drink.

"Weed, actually. And if it wasn't for... Monty. Neither of us would have been sent down here in the first place."

It was strange what all could change in the span of a few months.

Jasper and Monty used to be inseparable. They were practically brothers. No one could tear them apart.

But now, Jasper spoke Montys name with venom.

"Aren't you due back at the castle with the King?" Jasper waved his drink at the direction, referring to Bellamy.

"I-." Your words were cut short as Nathan Miller rounded the corner. His eyes widened as soon as he caught sight of the both of you.

"Are you trying to get yourselves killed?" He seethed, his eyes darting to the left and the right, breathing a silent sigh of relief as he came to the conclusion that he was the only guard in sight.

Jasper lowered his drink, scrunched up his nose, and appeared to be thinking hard.

"Is this a rhetorical question?" He mused.

Miller turned red in the face.

"I'm not joking around, Jasper. You're lucky it was me who found you, and not Hannah." Miller hissed, clearly not in a joking mood.

Jasper only rolled his eyes.

"Even if you do kill me, what would I end up losing?" Jasper took another drink.

"If you keep talking suicidal, you're gonna end up losing your booze." Miller said.

Jasper seemed to sober up at those words.

"Well, goodnight then." Jasper turned, but Miller stopped him.

"I can't let (Y/N) roam free, Jasper. She's gonna have to stay here tonight." Miller explained.

Jasper shrugged.

"Fine. But I'm not sharing any of my moonshine." He slurred as he walked into his flat.

Millers wrist watched beeped, indicating that it was 9 pm, curfew.

"Hey, I can stop by your dorm and let Bellamy know that-."

"You can leave, is what you can do." You sneered.

Miller blinked, startled by your use of words.

Before he could say anything to this, Hannah Green rounded the corner, and raised her eyebrows at the sight of you, God forbid, two  inches outside of a dorm 1 minute past curfew.

Once she saw that you were talking to Miller, she sighed.

"I can let this slide, but just this once." She gave you a curt nod.

"Oh, will you?" You gave a mock squeal of gratitude, your smile sarcastic.

Hannah frowned.

"I don't like your tone, young lady." She said, her jaw taut.

"And I don't like your face, you power hungry bitch." You jeered.

Hannah gave a gasp of shock, and pulled out a notepad and pen from her pockets.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to write you up." She said.

You only laughed.

"For what? I didn't threaten you. I'm not even within slapping distance of you."

Her face grew a deep shade of scarlet.

"Is that a threat?" She spoke firmly.

"Do you want it to be?" You move forward, but Millers hands stopped you as he placed them firmly on your shoulders.

"(Y/N), enough," He pleaded, really not in the mood to arrest his friend tonight.

Hannah took a look at the door number of Jaspers dorm, and cleared her throat. Everyone knew Jaspers number. Everyone on the Ark had guided him home at least once when he was too drunk to walk properly.

"I'm going to let this go. I will assume that you are helping Jasper. But if you speak to me like that ever again, you can expect a night in lockup." Hannah held her nose high in the air as she strutted away.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Miller lit into you.

"Are you stupid, (Y/N)?" He hissed.

"Are YOU stupid, Miller? You know what you're doing is wrong." You jeered.

Miller was not in the mood for anymore arguing tonight, so he just let out a defeated sigh, and massaged his temples.

"Have a goodnight, (Y/N)." He spoke softly as he walked away.

-

Bellamy was a mess. He reread the letter that was left for him over and over again until his eyes ached, and his heart couldn't take it anymore.

It had been hours, and he felt like a complete ass for letting you be gone this long.

Even if he went out into the halls without his guard uniform, he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't get in any trouble, being a member of the guard and all.

He opened the door, but before he left, he took the letter that you left him, and folded it neatly into a square so he could carry it with him in his pocket.

It felt strange not walking with you. Almost as if the silence was too loud.

He nearly ran into Monty as he booked it through the halls and around the corner.

"Bellamy, what's wrong? Why was (Y/N) at Harpers door crying?" Monty wondered.

"She's at Harpers?" Bellamys felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders. You were safe.

Monty shook his head.

"No, no. Harper wasn't home. I-I don't know where she is." Monty stuttered.

Bellamy took no more time in conversing, and continued to jog.

"Bellamy? What are you doing out? It's past midnight." Hannah stopped him, a smile on her face.

"My- my..."

What was he even supposed to call you now?

"(Y/N), (Y/L/N), have you seen her?" His voiced cracked pitifully at the end of his sentence.

Hannah's eyes softened.

"I was down at Jasper Jordan's place when curfew started. She was there." Hannah explained, pointing in the direction of which you were.

"Thank you." He nodded gratefully.

It would make sense that you were with Jasper.

Next to Harper, Jasper was your best friend. And you both had something to bond over.

The fact that someone you loved and cared for was killed by someone you loved and trusted...

How much deeper could a bond get?

When he got to Jaspers, the door was cracked open.

Bellamy frowned, and gave a knock.

"(Y/N)?" He loudly announced his arrival.

A groan could be be heard from inside.

A half asleep, not even ten percent conscious Jasper stumbled to the door.

"What do you want?" He growled.

"Jasper, I need to see (Y/N)." Bellamy pleaded.

Jasper moved out of the way, too exhausted for anymore conversing. He gestured widly to the couch in which you had been sleeping on no more than two hours ago.

But you weren't there.

In your place, was yet another note, announcing your departure to the woods where you planned to run away and live a life with Trikru, where you could be free.

All of the blood drained from Bellamys face, and he patted his pockets, cursing when he remembered he wasn't wearing his uniform and didn't have his walkie talkies.

He shoved this note hastily in his pocket, and sprinted out of the room, out into the entrance of Arkadia, where the night air was cool, and the lights bright.

He panicked, swiveling around frantically trying to imagine which direction you would go.

He caught sight of you a few hundred yards outside of the fence.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)!" He screamed.

You turned around, his name almost passing your lips.

The sound of a gunshot answered him.

The crickets ceased their chirps, and time itself seemed to stand still as Bellamy watched your body crumble to the ground.

The watchman who had shot you realized his mistake as soon as he heard Bellamy scream.

That wasn't a Grounder.

Guards moved out past the gate, to examine the corpse.

They say you move faster when your adrenaline is pumping.

But Bellamy couldn't move fast enough.

"Don't touch her! Don't touch her!" Bellamy cried as a guard bent over to pick you up.

Your face was forever frozen. Your eyes wide with regret and heartache. Your lips beginning to form Bellamys name.

Bellamy let out a wail. It was a familiar wail.

It was the sound Raven made when she watched Finn die.

It was the sound Octavia made when she watched Lincoln die.

But this wail was different in a few ways.

It was full of more regret.

More sorrow.

As Bellamy held your bleeding body in his arms, the paper of the notes you had left crinkled in his pockets.

Both of them goodbye notes.

And Bellamy whispered the words he never got to say.

"It's you. I choose you."

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw bellamyblake bellamyblakeimagines the100bellamy the1000bellamy

[finnsgrin]

Bellamy Blake - “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Part 1

Bellamy Blake x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: kris-lulu

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Word Count: 928

Published on: August 26, 2020

TW: None

Spoilers: S3

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

♡Masterlist♡

Bellamy Blake

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Part 1

With shaking hands, you scooped up your few belongings that currently resided in your shared flat with your boyfriend of three years, Bellamy Blake, and stuffed them in the tattered beige crossbody you had swiped at Mount Weather. Your mind scrambled itself as you unraveled your next move.

What would you do? Where would you go? It's not like you could just hop on a plane and fly to the other side of the country, like people used to do in the old books and films that were read and shown back up on the Ark in space. You were stuck in Arkadia.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you gazed around the room and the memories that lingered.

The threshold of the sliding door where Bellamy carried you over the first day you were assigned your living quarters.

The small desk wedged in the corner where you sat sorting through papers and working on Ark files. Bellamy would often attack you with tickles when you got too stressed out.

The queen sized bed where the both of you shared intimate moments. Where laughs, and tears, and secrets were exchanged...

You fell to your knees, picking up one of Bellamys pajama shirts which he had carelessly tossed onto the floor this morning. You inhaled deeply, savoring the lingering scent of pine, and gun powder that you oh so adored...

Your shoulders began to tremble with sobs, and regaining the ability to stand on your own seemed impossible.

Finding a place to stay wasn't your biggest worry. Your best friend, Harper, would gladly take you under her wing. She was aware of the situation with Bellamy and fully supported you leaving him.

Leaving the room in the same condition as it was now seemed cruel, so you busied your mind and your hands as you picked up Bellamys dirty clothes, your crumpled up papers, and smoothed out the bedsheets to a crisp.

All there was left to do now was leave. It was both the easiest, and hardest part.

Slinging the bag over your chest, you triple checked that the note explaining everything was in its rightful place on the desk, and you slipped the promise ring off of your finger and placed it on the paper.

The familiar sound of the pin code being punched into the keypad next to the door outside made you freeze.

Bellamy stumbled in, clearly exhausted, and maybe even a little drunk. The night shifts weren't easy, but he wasn't supposed to be off work for another three hours.

He leaned in for his usual kiss, but immediately sobered up as soon as he took into account the state both you, and the room were in.

"What's going on?" His voice was gravely, and he swallowed a yawn.

You opened your mouth to explain, but, how were you supposed to explain this?

Bellamy figured it out for himself as his eyes focused on the silver ring he had found in the forest one of the first nights on the ground.

"You're leaving."

It wasn't a question.

"Bell-."

"Why?" His voice was both dead, and filled to the brim with pain.

You swallowed, your throat tight.

"You know why."

The ground had changed the both of you, no doubt in that. The ground had changed everyone. But Bellamy... wasn't Bellamy anymore.

He was silent for a moment, taking in the severity of his past actions.

"It had to be done." He spoke in a monotonous voice.

"Bullshit!" You stormed, tears springing in your eyes.

"He died a hero." Bellamys voice grew thick with emotion.

"A hero that you killed, you bastard!" You shoved Bellamy harshly, his bulletproof vest sturdy underneath your hands.

"He was your sister's one true love, and you killed him!" You screamed.

Bellamy blinked, several emotions registering across his face all at once.

"I can't do it anymore, Bellamy." Your voice was just above a whisper.

"Isn't this what you wanted?!" Bellamy retorted, his face burning with rage.

"What is that even supposed to mean?!" You yelled, tears streaming down your face.

Bellamys fist came in contact to the wall above your head, and you flinched beneath him.

His expression immediately softened once he saw your frightened one.

"They killed Finn, (Y/N)." He told you.

Although you had been trapped in Mount Weather of the time of your best friends death, haunting images plagued your mind as dreams fought back and forth relentlessly with how it played out... What you could have done... How it could have been avoided...

"No. Clarke did." You spoke through clenched teeth.

Although you didn't hold a grudge against the girl for what she had to do, you still said this to get the point across Bellamys thick head.

"They were going to torture him!" Bellamy reminded you of the necessary fact.

"And we're gonna blame Lincoln for that?! His people did that, not him! Maya's people took our bone marrow, not her! Finn killed 18 innocent people, not us! You can't blame everyone for the actions of one!"

Bellamy put his head in his hands, and began to pace the room, something he always did when stress overwhelmed him. When his tear filled eyes finally met yours, he began to plead with you.

"Please, (Y/N)... I need you." His voice cracked at the end, shattering your heart furthermore.

But this needed to be done. You would not support his actions.

"Pick, Bellamy. Me, or Pike?"

His silence spoke enough, and you left without a word not even looking back.

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw bellamyblake bellamyblakeimagines the100bellamy the1000bellamy

[finnsgrin]

Bellamy Blake - “What are you smiling about?”

Bellamy Blake x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: nomattertheoceans

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bellamy Blake | "What are smiling about?"

Word Count: 2,138

Published on: Friday, November 13th 2020 (Happy Friday the 13th!)

TW: None

Summary: After Jasper is speared by the Grounders, Bellamy takes you on a walk, to calm you down, proving he's not as bad as everyone makes him out to be. Bellamy fluff!!

A/N: I know that when the acid fog came, Bellamy got stuck in the cave but for the sake of the story just pretend he made it back to camp:) ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

♡Masterlist♡

"(Y/N), you need to relax." Monty Green, one of your best friends laid his hand on your shoulder as you both stood in the top level of the dropship where Jasper lay, dying.

"Relax? Monty, he's dying." You hissed between clenched teeth.

You knew you weren't helping the situation. In fact, you were making it worse, and you didn't deny it. Monty was just trying to remain as his positive upbeat self.

"He's my friend, too, (Y/N). But worrying about this isn't going to make things any better." Monty replied with a clenched jaw, and tears in his eyes, clearly getting frustrated now.

You sighed, upset that, once again, Monty was right.

Although your constant fretting released some of the fear and anxiety that had built up inside you the last 48 hours, it wasn't a healthy way to express your emotions.

Even if it felt really good punching John Murphy in the face when he threatened to kill Jasper.

"You should go outside. Take a breather." A deep voice spoke from behind you.

Bellamy Blake stood in his stolen guards uniform, his face sporting streaks of dirt, and a concerned frown.

You scowled, appalled by the very idea of it.

"What, so you can kill him? Get it over with? One less mouth to feed? No chance in hell. I'm staying right here." You seethed at the older boy, and crossed your arms over your chest.

Bellamy raised his eyebrows, and, dare say a SMIRK tugged at his lips?

He quickly composed himself, and cleared his throat, speaking through chapped lips.

"I told you. No one is killing anyone." Bellamy spoke.

You just laughed, and jabbed your hand in the direction of the ladder where Murphy had nearly succeeded in climbing up, and killing Jasper.

"Yeah? I might believe you if not an hour ago Murphy hadn't been two strides away from slitting Jaspers throat." You seethed.

"I wasn't here. I was out in the fog with Charlotte, I had no control over Murphy or anyone here." Bellamy retorted.

"Will you both shut up?!" Monty hissed, taking both you and Bellamy by surprise. It wasn't often that anyone saw Monty get upset at anyone.

"(Y/N), you need to get outside. It isn't good for you to be in here. The fog has passed. Bellamy will go with you. I'll stay here with Jasper and lock the hatch." The poor Green boy massaged his temples, fending away an approaching migraine.

But this offer still wasn't good enough.

"He'll try and take my bracelet off, Monty. We can't trust - ."

A shiny glisten caught your eye, and you leaped back once you realized that Bellamy had pulled a knife from his boot.

You were prepared to attack, but frowned in confusion when he extended the weapon to you.

"Take it." He spoke.

You blinked, unsure.

Bellamy gave an impatient sigh, and gently placed the knife in your hand.

"That's my only knife. I'm not gonna try and take your bracelet." He explained.

You gripped the knife tightly, and turned to Monty.

"Check him." You nodded towards Bellamy who stood with a dumb founded expression.

"(Y/N) - ."

"Check him, Monty, now." You repeated.

Monty sighed, and turned to Bellamy, who had his eyebrows raised.

Monty gestured for Bellamy to put out his arms to the side so he could pat him down.

Bellamy let out a dry laugh, but allowed Monty to awkwardly pat him down.

"This is ridiculous." Bellamy grumbled.

"You'd do the same if it were Octavia laying there." You reminded him.

Bellamy became quiet, and the energy in the room grew more awkward by the minute.

"He's clear." Monty sighed, turning to you.

"Satisfied?" Bellamy grumbled.

You just rolled your eyes, and walked over to Jasper, whose breathing had become more slow and shallow by the minute.

You brushed away his long shaggy bangs which had become stuck to his forehead with sweat.

Your eyes, frantic with worry met Montys.

"He'll be fine, (Y/N). I'm not gonna let anything happen to him." Monty gently reassured you.

You nodded, and placed a gentle kiss on Jaspers forehand.

"I'll be back soon." You whispered.

You made Bellamy go down the hatch first, and then did a quick sweep around the room to make sure no one was hiding waiting to pounce on Jasper.

"Be safe." Monty whispered.

You gave a curt nod, and climbed down the ladder, holding the knife in your teeth, and making sure to hear the barricade being placed in front of the hatch so no one could get up to Jasper.

"You gave the crazy bitch a knife?" Murphy stood from his seat, and approached Bellamy, his jaw taut.

"Unless you want to be punched in the face again, Murphy, I suggest you shut the hell up." You growled.

Murphy blinked, and took a step away from you.

Bellamy pressed his lips tightly together, suppressing a laugh.

"Let's go." Bellamy cleared his throat, and walked out of the dropship.

You walked a few hundred feet from camp, still in earshot of the loud delinquents building the wall.

Spending your whole life trapped in space, you would think that the ground would be the dream. And, it was.

For a while.

The air didn't taste as sweet as it did two days ago. Maybe the poison fog that just passed had something to do with the air quality, but it just wasn't the same. In fact, you doubted it would ever be the same.

Jaspers moans of agony replayed in your mind like a broken record, and no matter how far you strayed from the dropship, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was calling for you.

"Did you hear something?" Bellamy frowned at you as you repeatedly checked over your shoulder.

You shook your head, and sighed.

"No, sorry. I just keep thinking that I hear... nevermind."

You quickened your pace, and Bellamy jogged up to you.

"Hey," He placed a hand on your shoulder, and offered you a kind smile.

"Your boyfriend is gonna be just fine. Clarke and the others will be back with the poultice soon, and-."

"Wait, wait, what did you just say?" You interrupted him.

Bellamy raised his eyebrows, confused.

"That Clarke and the others will be back soon?" He repeated the last part of his sentence.

"No, no. You called Jasper my boyfriend." You chuckled.

"Is he not?" Bellamy asked.

You laughed for the first time in days.

"No! Jasper is like my brother. So is Monty. I can't believe that... wait, does everyone think we're dating?" You questioned him.

Bellamy looked at you for a second, and shook his head.

"No, no... I was just... I just thought you two... forget it." Bellamy waved his hand and dismissed his explanation.

"That's like me accusing you of dating..."  You frowned, trying to think of someone you had noticed Bellamy spend a lot of time around.

"Of dating who?" Bellamy pressed, gently nudging your arm.

You sighed.

"I don't know. There isn't a girl down here who you haven't slept with. Besides Octavia and Clarke. And Octavia would be illegal." You smirked.

"I haven't slept with you." Bellamy winked.

You opened your mouth, words failing.

"You're gross!" You shoved him to the side, as he laughed.

You walked for a few more minutes before you turned and noticed Bellamy occasionally glancing at you and smiling.

"What are you smiling about?"  You raised an eyebrow.

Bellamy shrugged nonchalantly and fixed his eyes ahead of him.

"You're kind of pretty when you don't have a stick shoved up your ass." Bellamy said.

"Is-is that supposed to be a compliment, orrrr?" You laughed.

Bellamy turned back to look at you, and gave you a second wink.

"Whatever the hell you want it to be."

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks involuntary turning a light shade of scarlet.

"We should probably head back." Bellamy noted.

It's true. You were pretty far from camp. But, truth be told, you were enjoying the quiet. And, Bellamy wasn't too bad of company.

"Can we stay here? Just a little while longer?" Your tone turned out to be a lot more childish than you wanted it to be, but after Bellamy checked over his shoulders a few times, he agreed.

You both sat down at the base of a tree trunk. Your worries were back now in full swing, and you wished you had something to take your mind off of Jasper.

"You're right. I would be acting the same way as you." Bellamy broke the silence.

"What?" You asked, confused.

He hesitated.

"Back at the dropship. You told me I would be acting as suspicious as you were if it were Octavia, and, you're right," His voice dropped to a whisper, and you craned your neck to hear him.

"I know how you're feeling, (Y/N)." He continued, turning to face you.

"What do you mean?" You pressed gently. Surely Bellamy couldn't understand the true terror of watching someone you love and care for so much in so much agony. Not being able to do anything. Nothing like this.

Bellamy hesitated once more.

"Hey. You can tell me." You placed your hand on top of his, and felt him relax.

"When Octavia was little, she got sick. Really sick. We couldn't do anything - my mom and I. If anyone found out about Octavia..."

His words were carried away by a gentle breeze.

"Anyway, she got better, obviously. But I remember. I remember feeling so scared, and so helpless, and... I just want you to know that you're not alone." Bellamy cleared his throat, and moved his hand away from yours.

"We should get back." He stood up, and brushed some dirt from off of his pants.

You nodded, feeling confused. A half an hour ago, you didn't want to leave the dropship, and now, you didn't want to go back.

The trek back was silent to say the least. No playful banter. No flirty winks or remarks.

Once the camp was in sight, something felt off.

It was too quiet.

Yes, campers were being loud and boisterous, and Murphy was busy ordering everyone around, but there was something missing.

No groaning Jasper.

"You okay?" Bellamy frowned, concerned.

You shook your head, your throat growing tight.

"Jasper... what if he's..."

Bellamy looked at the ground, struggling for words of comfort.

Although he had assured you that Jasper was going to be okay, he knew that it was more possible of him dying than surviving.

"You won't have to face it alone." He answered.

You nodded, taking a deep breath and walking into camp.

Your legs were shaking, and it felt like another wave of fog had rolled in affecting your thoughts, your vision, your breathing...

"(Y/N!)!" Finn ran from the dropship to you.

"You're back!" You exclaimed.

Finn nodded, and smiled.

"Jasper... is he..."

"He's asking for you." Finns words startled you. But it was a good startle.

Your face broke into a huge grin, and you turned to Bellamy who looked down kindly at you.

"Go on." Bellamy nodded towards the dropship.

You broke into a run, and scurried up the ladder where Jasper was laying, awake.

"Glad to see you're not a fellow shishkabob." He slurred.

"Jasper!" You took his hand, and held it close to your heart, happy tears streaming down your face.

You stayed with Jasper until it grew dark, and left him to rest.

You were sharing a tent with a girl named Harper, and you were exhausted. The last two days had been sleepless, since you had been worrying so much about Jasper.

You were just a few feet away from your shelter, when you remembered the knife Bellamy had given you.

You made a quick detour, and stood outside of Bellamys tent awkwardly trying to figure out how to make your presence known. Maybe he wasn't even in there.

"Can I help you?" A deep voice sounded from behind you, startling you.

You placed a hand over your pounding heart, and laughed once.

"I just - I just wanted to return this to you." You extended Bellamys knife back to him, and he took it.

"Thanks."

You nodded, standing there for a few more seconds before deciding to walk away.

"(Y/N)?" Bellamy stopped you.

"Yes?"

"I'm glad Jasper is okay."

Your lips curled up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too."

You both stood for a few more seconds, before Bellamy cleared his throat.

"Well... goodnight." He said to you.

You nodded, walking to your tent.

Today wasn't all that bad.

First, you got to punch John Murphy in the face with no consequences, next, your best friend was going to make it, and last, Bellamy Blake wasn't as bad as everyone made him out to be.

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw bellamyblake bellamyblakeimagines the100bellamy the1000bellamy

[finnsgrin]

John Murphy - “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

John Murphy x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: mattsryan

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Word Count: 2,035

Published on: October 8th, 2020

TW: Drinking

Spoilers: None

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

♡Masterlist♡

John Murphy

Sulking wasn't the right word.

Alright, maybe it was.

You were a sulker. And, there's nothing wrong with a good pity party every once in a while. Sometimes you just really need to focus and reflect on yourself and your problems.

While every other delinquent was busy partying and getting drunk off of their asses from Montys moonshine, you stood alone at the entrance of the wall, loaded with a gun, eyes peeled for any sudden movement on the outside.

Unity Day on the Ark brought out the best in people. Here on the ground, it seemed to bring out the child in everyone.

"Jasper! What the hell are you doing?" You hissed at the tall and lanky boy who was wielding a thin stick and creating random patterns in the dirt with it.

The boy looked at you, blinked, and dropped the stick.

"I... I don't know." He slurred.

Now impatient, you threw one last glance over the fence, and figured it would be safe for a few minutes. You weren't gonna leave Jasper alone with a stick without someone who was coherent.

"Come on." You sighed, grabbing him gently by the wrist.

"Where are we going?" He asked, tripping over his own two feet.

"To Wonderland." You grumbled sarcastically.

As Jasper giddily clapped his hands together, you took note of the scene before you.

A roaring bonfire, moonshine by the gallons, handsy couples...

"(Y/N)! There you are!" Your boyfriend of two years, John Murphy, walked over to you with a cup of alchohol in each hand, and extended one to you.

"John, you know I don't drink." You gently reminded him, keeping a firm grip on Jasper as he tried to grab the drink for himself.

"Pbhhh. Take a break from babysitting Goggle Boy, and come dance with me." He shoved the metal cup in your face, moonshine splashing over the rim and onto your shirt.

"Damn it, John! This was my last clean shirt." You complained as you yanked Jasper back yet again.

Murphy scowled, his nose scrunching up to his green eyes.

"Who called the party police? Lossen up, (Y/N). No wonder you never got invited to anything on the Ark. You're boring." He scoffed and walked away, drinking as he did so.

Boring? You were so not boring! Sure, you kept to yourself and weren't one for confrontation, but you weren't boring.

Annoyance evident in your eyes, Jasper sobered up enough to realize that now wasn't the time to mess with you, and he followed you back to his and Montys shared tent where you took off his boots and tucked him into bed.

"(Y/N)?" His soft voice stopped you  as you were about to leave.

"Yeah, Jasper?" You sighed, massaging your temples.

"I don't think you're boring." He yawned.

Your lips curled up at the kind words, and you patted him on the leg.

"Thanks, Jasper. Goodnight."

He mumbled something incoherent to your ears as you walked outside into the crisp air. You took a deep lungful of it and battled your thoughts.

John's words stung more than they should. Were you really boring? No... no, you were being safe. Responsible.

If no one else was going to watch the forest for approaching and violent Grounders, who else would?

Even Clarke was playing some drinking game with a few other delinquents.

Huffing to yourself, you began the short walk back to your stakeout spot where you stood alone in the cold.

On Unity Day on the Ark, you and Murphy used to spend it together.

Ever since you could remember, back to when you two were just kids, you and John would stand in the back of the crowd of the Unity Day Pagent, and sneak out to cause mischief. Once, you even snuck into the kitchen and shared a glass of apple juice.

Now? He was spilling moonshine on your last clean shirt.

You were almost to the wall, when they caught your eye.

Murphy and Fox, their bodies pressed close together, foreheads grazing as they laughed loudly and swayed to the beat of nonexistent music only the two of them could hear.

You swore your heart stopped, froze, and skipped a beat all at the same time.

Murphy whispered something in Foxs ear, and she giggled, slapping him playfully on his chest.

John Mbege tapped Murphy on the shoulder, and pointed to you.

Murphy whipped his head around, his eyes which were once mischievous and flirty, now wide and full of regret.

"(Y/N)!" You read his lips over the crowd of rowdy teens, and just shook your head.

He had just began to make his way to you, when someone started a conga line, disrupting his pathway.

Monty Green was walking solo, holding a cup of moonshine in his hands, on his way back to his tent, presumably.

"Give me that," You hissed as you snatched the cup from his hands, and gulped it, your eyes stinging.

"I am NOT boring. Just because I look out for us, and don't drink, doesn't make me boring, does it? I'M the responsible one here! Where the hell is Bellamy? Isn't he King of the camp? Remember our first few days on the ground, when he was just whoring it up with any living creature with boobs? Who was out there collecting water and building shelter? That's right. Me!"

The poor boy just blinked, unsure of what to say or do in this situation, so he just opened and closed his mouth, confused beyond belief.

Finally, he just shook his head, looked at the ground, and continued on his way.

You took another swig of the poison, and coughed.

Murphy wanted you to loosen up? Well two can play at that game.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Murphys POV

"(Y/N)!" Her name fell from my lips which were slightly chapped, and stinging from all of the drink I had consumed within the past couple of hours.

She just shook her head, turned to the side, and began to walk away.

"Damn it, (Y/N)!" I called once more, and took a step forward just as a giant conga line made it's way before me. When it had finally passed, she was gone.

"Fuck." I cursed, running my fingers through my hair.

Mbege slapped me on the back in a feeble attempt of comfort.

"She's water under the bridge, man. Weren't you just saying how boring she was?" Mbege sighed.

I tore away harshly from him, a scowl on my face.

"That's not what I meant! I don't even know why I said it. I don't even know why I was dancing with Fox. Damn it!" I brought my hands up to my face, and slapped myself on the forehead, hard.

But Mbege could have cared less. He just brought up his stupid drink to his stupid lips and smirked.

"She's just a stupid girl. There are plenty of sluts like her down here."

I grabbed him by his shirt, and pinned him up against the dropship, his drink spilling onto the dirt below our feet.

"Say that about her again." I seethed through clenched teeth.

He just blinked, eyes wide until I released him harshly and jogged away, both eyes on the lookout for the girl I loved.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I wish I had a harmonica, y'know? Like how in the old timey Western movies, people in jail would play a sad song on it." You slurred from the ground where you sat talking to Raven, who was busy making bullets.

She just chuckled, and shook her head.

"You're a hazard, (Y/N). You're not supposed to have any flammable liquids near this gunpowder, and you my friend, are a walking, talking, bottle of booze."

You laughed at her retort, and childishly stuck out your tounge.

"You said Murphy was dancing with another girl?" She held up a bullet to the dim lantern, and examined it.

"Fox. Don't remind me." You took another swig of moonshine, and sputtered.

"Well, just dance with another guy. That'll piss Murphy off to no end." Raven shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

It took a moment for her words to process themselves in your brain, and when they did, you gasped.

"Raven Reyes, you're a genius!" You hopped up quickly, stumbling back and catching yourself on the table which housed the dud bullets.

"I'm good, I'm good." You hiccuped, giving her a thumbs up.

"Just keep your hands off of Finn!" She laughed as you struggled with the opening of the tent flap.

Normally, everyone was mindful of the root that stuck out for the ground in front of the ammunition tent, but in your drunken state, you completely dismissed it, and tripped over it, spilling your drink on Murphy as he caught you in his arms.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" He hissed once he steadied you.

"Well, well, how the tables have turned." You smirked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He gave you an incredulous look as you laughed.

"Not an hour ago, I was the responsible one getting my shirt soiled by moonshine. Did you get your Fox fix? Don't worry, I was just on my way to find someone to dance with. Don't wait up." You sneered, turning away from him.

Murphy grasped your wrist, and pulled you back to him.

"No, not happening. You are going straight to bed, and-."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

You asked mournfully with tears in your bloodshot eyes.

Murphy blinked, emotion and confusion overtaking him.

"What?" He had the audacity to question you.

"I'm just loosening up, Murph. Like you said. Wouldn't want a boring girlfriend, would you?" You sniffed.

Murphy shook his head, taking a moment to access the severity of his words.

"Babe, no, I - I didn't mean that. I don't think you're boring." He took both of your hands into his, and frowned at how cold your fingers were.

"Then why did you say it? And why were you dancing with another girl?" You pressed.

His eyes met yours, and they were full of regret.

"Because I... I'm an idiot. I'm an insecure, stupid, jealous idiot who doesn't know how to communicate with my girlfriend. I was just so scared that some other responsible guy would end up talking to you, and you would realize how much of a doofus I am, and leave me, and I'm selfish and petty, and... I can't lose you, (Y/N). You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I sorry I'm not good at communicating, and for some reason I thought that dancing with another girl would make you jealous, and you would come over and talk to me, but I realize now that my words and actions have been thoughtless and - ."

"If I say I forgive you, will you shut up?" You interrupted.

Murphy, who had been speaking that whole rant in a single breath, took a deep breath and nodded his head.

Once he had regained his breath, he caressed your cheek.

"You aren't boring, (Y/N). You're responsible. And I love you for it." He blushed.

"You... love me?" You blinked, and prayed this wasn't all some drunken hallucination.

He chuckled, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"I do. And I'm sorry it took all of this for me to find the balls to say it." He smirked.

You pressed your lips to his, hints moonshine and young love dancing on your taste buds.

Fatigue overtaking you, you stumbled once more into him, and he steadied you again.

"Let's get you to bed." He scooped you up off of your feet, and carried you to your shared tent.

As he took off your boots and covered you with the thin blanket you both shared, you smiled to yourself and silently thanked Raven for her advice. If she had never persuaded you to go dance with someone, you probably would have never fallen into Murphy, and he would have never confessed his love to you.

What started off as a self loathing night, turned into a magical one.

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw johnmurphy johnmurphyimagines the100murphy the100johnmurphy th

[finnsgrin]

John Murphy - Soulmate AU

John Murphy x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: captain-shurley

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Word Count: 1,680

Published on: August 22, 2020

TW: Blood and sickness

Spoilers: S1 E10

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Where the very first words your soulmate will say to you is tattooed on your wrist

John Murphy

♡Masterlist♡ You had always been envious of your friends and the tattoos on their wrists.

It wasn't the tattoo you were jealous of. Everyone on the Ark had one.

It was what their tattoos said that made your blood boil.

When you're born, you come with a tattoo on your wrist, and that tattoo consists of the first words your soulmate will say to you.

"I can't believe it's really you."

"You're so beautiful."

"My soulmate is the prettiest girl on the Ark."

Yeah, those were all of the things tattooed on your friends wrists.

What did yours say?

I think I'm going to throw up.

Yup. Those are the words written on you for the rest of your life.

You had gone over and over time and time again trying to imagine your first encounter with your soulmate.

All of your friends gushed over how cute their soulmates already were, while you pondered over the fact that your soulmate would be physically ill when he first met you.

You hid your wrist as much as possible, and were grateful when the wristband you were issued covered up the words you hated so much.

You met a lot of new people after being sent to the ground, and were relieved when days had gone by and you hadn't heard the words you dreaded.

After the malfunction that made all of the wristbands come off, you did what you could to hide the words.

Wearing long sleeves, making bracelets out of spare cord...

Almost a month had gone by, and you still didn't hear anyone complaining about being sick.

Until he came back.

You had never spoken to John Murphy.

Hell, you didn't even know what color his eyes were. You stayed as far away from his as possible, and, rightfully so.

You were among the first to be in contact with him after your best friend, Octavia Blake, had found him in the woods, beaten to a pulp.

After Clarke had determined biological warfare, you volunteered to help with the sick. It was inevitable that you were going to get sick anyway, you being one of the first to touch the ill boy, so you might as well help while you could. At least a dozen people were on their death beds, and the words on your wrist were just a memory in moments like these where it was life or death.

You were making rounds, passing out water, when he caught your eye.

Normally, the sight of the boy everyone despised in such anguish would having you smiling to yourself.

But this was different.

He was shaking. Beaten. Bruised and bloody. Vulnerable. Broken.

And it hurt you.

"How are you feeling?"

You crouched down next to him, frowning at the absence of his fingernails which had been ripped off by the Grounders.

His eyes met yours. They were blue. They reminded you of the sky. Up on the Ark, you used to sit for hours in front of the window that faced earth, and marvel at the blue. Coming to earth, you didn't expect the sky to be so... vivid and beautiful.

But his eyes were also full of panic.

"I think I'm gonna throw up."

Your heart stopped.

John Murphy?

Out of all of the people in the universe, your soulmate was John Murphy?

"Yeah, me too." You whispered.

You both sat in silence, and you waited for him to vomit, but he didn't. After simmering in the awkwardness, you eventually stood, and went around the dropship tending to the others.

The entire time, his eyes followed you.

-

Not soon after your encounter with your dreaded soulmate did you fall ill.

You were passing out water when you looked down in the cup to see that it had turned a crimson red. You frowned, confused. But the question to your curiosity was answered when you reached up to wipe your nose with the back of your hand, and were met with the blood that was dripping. Immediately, you called for Clarke, and she made you lay down in the only available spot which, go figure, was right next to Murphy.

You laid there in anguish, clenching your teeth together and tilting your head to the side when you felt the uncontrollable urge to vomit.

Someone was holding your hair back, and when you were finished emptying the contents of your stomach, you turned around to thank Clarke, who you presumed was the one who was helping.

But it wasn't Clarke. She was on the other side of the dropship tending to someone's wound.

Murphy looked better than he had an hour ago, and you awkwardly wiped the dribble off of your chin.

"Thank you." You croaked, your voice raw.

"It's the least I could do for my soulmate." The corner of his lips curled up into a smirk.

After sitting in more silence, he broke it.

"Did you think it would be me?" He asked you, propping himself up on his elbow.

You frowned.

"What?" You inquired.

"Did you think it would be me? Did you ever think you would get lucky enough to have me as your soulmate?" He smiled cockily.

You just scoffed, which turned into a hacking cough.

"I knew I was lucky the moment I understood what the words on my wrist meant." He whispered after you had gotten your breathing under control.

You blinked, confused once again for the millionth time that day.

He extended his right wrist to you, where the very first words you had ever spoken to him were.

How are you feeling?

You ran your index finger over the tattoo. His skin was rough and calloused.

"I knew that I was lucky, because the very first words my soulmate would ever say to me were asking how I was feeling. My soulmate was kind. Caring. Selfless." His voice had dropped even quieter, and you strained to hear him.

You smiled, and looked down at your wrist.

"I always thought my soulmate was an asshole." You smiled as he gently traced the words on your wrist. A jolt of electricity pulsed through you.

"Well, you weren't wrong." Murphy laughed once, and looked you in your (Y/C/E) eyes which were blotched red from all of coughing.

"You should get some rest." He pulled his hand away from your wrist, and you secretly longed for his touch.

Seriously, (Y/N) It's John Murphy. Maybe there was a mistake. There's no way he's my soulmate.

You tried to convince yourself of this. He had been so awful to everyone on the ground. How could someone as sweet as you be destined to someone as selfish as him?

"Yeah. Yeah, I should. We both should." You closed your eyes, and turned your head away from him in fear that you would end up staring at him.

Fatigue overcame you, and you thought of the irony of it all.

The very day you meet your soulmate might very well be the same day you both die.

"Murphy?" His name rolled effortlessly off your tounge.

He was quite for a moment.

"Yeah?" He whispered back, turning to face you.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Please be here when I open my eyes." You whispered.

The last thing you remember before sinking into unconsciousness, was him taking your hand into his.

-

Miraculously, you both survived through the night. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with him gazing at you.

"Good morning." He greeted you with a small smile. The grovel in his voice was gone, and color had begun to return to his cheeks.

"Hi." You smiled softly, and swallowed, the pain in your throat gone.

Clarke examined the both of you, and explained that the sickness was a 24 hour thing, and you two should be fine now.

Both you and Murphy exited the dropship side by side to go get some water from the still.

You both walked slowly, your bones and joints still aching and sore.

"It wasn't just because I was sick that I said it." He broke the silence.

You raised an eyebrow, perplexed, and he held out his tattooed wrist.

You nodded in understanding, and motioned for him to continue.

"Yeah, I already felt sick, but the moment I realized you were my... soulmate," He smiled at the word, a blush creeping to his cheeks.

"I was so scared I was going to get you killed, (Y/N)," His eyes were full of sadness.

"If I lived, and if I got you killed, I wouldn't be able to live with myself." His words grew thick and weighed heavy.

You grabbed both of his hands with yours, and looked him in the eyes.

"But you didn't. And, even if you did, it wouldn't have been your fault." Your words were comforting to him, but he still blinked back tears.

"How is it that someone like me is destined to be with someone like you? A butterfly and a dungbeetle." He reached up his hand to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"I don't think you would be a dungbettle. Maybe a stink bug." You smirked.

"Actually I was referring to myself  as the butterfly. You would be the dungbettle," He laughed as you playfully smacked him on his shoulder.

"I know I haven't been the best person, but for you, I'm willing to change." He continued.

Your heart began to beat erratically as he leaned in for a sweet kiss. Although both of your lips were chapped, it was still the best kiss you bet you'd ever have.

"Hey! Keep your lips separated, or we're gonna have another outbreak. This time, mono!" You heard Octavia gag a few feet away from you.

You both flipped her off at the same time, and you heard someone chuckle.

"Yup. They're definitely meant for each other."

♡Masterlist♡

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw johnmurphy johnmurphyimagines the100murphy the100johnmurphy th

[finnsgrin]

Beauty and the Beast - John Murphy

John Murphy x reader

From my Wattpad: inanonacrimnalwayy

GIF: bellamysgriffin

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

John Murphy

Based on S1 E10

Spoilers: S1 E10

After Murphy is found, the sickness inflicted by the Grounders spreads like wildfire around camp, the thought of losing him is too much for you.

Word Count: 5,655

Published on: July 6, 2020

TW: Blood, sickness

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

♡Masterlist♡

Sleep became a rare occurrence for me.

When I did find the courage to shut off my mind, I was harassed with nightmares and plagued with horrific flashbacks that danced tirelessly behind my eyes.

I woke up every single time screaming for John to run.

It's no secret that the majority of camp hated John's guts.

But I was a different story.

Everyone in camp wanted to know me.

They wanted to know the kind girl who sang the younger fretful campers to sleep, and who always looked on the bright side no matter the circumstance.

They compared me and John to Beauty and the Beast.

"But the Beast is good inside. He just doesn't let anyone see that because when people see good, they expect good. And the Beast doesn't want to have to live up to anybody's expectations." I would always remind them.

Nobody seemed to care.

That's what angered me.

One night, while we were in our tent, I overheard several older campers badmouthing John.

I stood, hands balled into fists, eager to let off some of my steam on someone.

"Easy, babe. Don't stoop to their level." John had repeated the words I so often had to say to him when anything bothered him.

And I had to say them a lot, because everything bothers John.

I took a breath, and sat back down allowing him to massage my neck and shoulders which were tight and taut from the stresses of the day.

"They make me so angry. No one down here is innocent. We all have something that we did wrong. Why are they so quick to judge?" I lazily traced meaningless patterns on his hand which was riddled in scars and calluses.

I felt John chuckle, and he rested his chin in the crook of my neck.

"Because they're not you. They're not selfless, and kind, and forgiving. Some of them are ruthless murders."

I allowed his words to simmer in the heat of the tent.

I didn't like being called selfless.

John's just says that's another reason to call me selfless.

"I still don't like it." I pouted.

"No one says you have to like it. Now shut up and cuddle with me." John attacked me with tickles, peppering my face with kisses.

This is the side of John Murphy that no one else sees.

And that was the last night I had with John Murphy.

The morning brought uncertainty.

I could feel it in the air.

I've always been an anxious person, but John does his best to keep it at bay.

"What else could go wrong? We're miles away from home which isn't even on the planet, surrounded by crazy tree people who are hell bent on killing us all, and we're probably all gonna die before the snow falls."

I know his words were meant for comfort, but they always freaked me out even more.

I woke up, sorry - I mean I was trampled awake by a group of two dozen people who thrust their hands into the opening of our pathetic excuse of a tent.

I screamed as people grabbed my hair and scratched my arms.

What the hell was going on?

Were we being ambushed by Grounders?

"Murphy!"

"John Murphy!"

"Murphy, come out!"

Now I knew these were our people.

Why would Grounders be specifically after the most hated boy in our camp?

How would they even know his name?

We didn't even know if they spoke English.

"John, John, help me!"

My chest grew tight, and my legs felt like jelly, which was something that always happened to me before a panic attack.

"Hey, keep your hands off of her!" I saw John's fist come into contact with a boys face.

He was then physically dragged out of of camp, with me hot on their trail, slightly disoriented from what had just happened.

I spun around, frantic for the sight of someone, anyone who wasn't engrossed by the mosh pit with John in the center of it all.

"Harper, what's going on?" I found my good friend Harper, and clutched her arm.

She shook me free, disgust prominent on her face.

"Why don't you ask your boyfriend the killer? Wells was found dead this morning, and Murphy's knife was next to him."

What?

"Th-that's crazy! John did not kill Wells!"

"It sure looks like it!"

I wasn't about to argue furthermore with Harper. I needed to see Bellamy.

I found him in the mob, and yanked him free.

"Bellamy, this is crazy! Murphy didn't kill Wells! He couldn't have! He was by my side the entire night!" My words came out fast and jumbled.

"(Y/N), I know it's hard to comprehend, but Murphy killed Wells." Bellamy spoke to me in a calm manner.

"Bullshit! Harper said the knife was found near Wells? That wasn't Murphy! Even if he DID ever kill someone, he wouldn't be that sloppy. Please, Bellamy! You have to believe me!" Angry tears rolled down my face and panic grew.

"Bellamy! What do you want us to do with him?" Finn called over, stepping back and revealing a severely beaten Murphy who was now bound by the wrists and ankles, and gagged.

Bellamy took a final look at me. Once final glance at the broken girl who was on the cusp of a breakdown.

"String him up." Bellamy boomed, nodding to a large oak tree which housed thick and sturdy branches, a noose already tied securely around it.

They say adrenaline makes everything move quicker.

You run faster, you think faster, you act faster...

There must be something wrong with me, because I move in slow motion.

It's like when you're dreaming.

When you're dreaming and you're running away from a monster and it feels like your legs have been submerged in molasses. You scream at your legs to move faster, but they don't.

Everything was in slow motion.

I could see a struggling John being stood by an overturned bucket, using all of his strength to break free.

Chants and screams of those around us beckoning on his death.

Twigs snapping and dirt flying from beneath my bare feet as I sprinted towards John.

The cries out of my mouth, and the final gasp of breath when the bucket was overturned.

"No! No! Please! It wasn't him!" I shoved away bystanders, just inches away from the boy who I loved.

The boy on the drop ship who squeezed my hand telling me it was going to be alright.

The boy in the forest who picked flowers for me and presented them with a dopey smile.

The boy in the tent who held me close our first nights on the ground after Jaspers attack.

The boy who was now dangling from a tree, his hands working relentlessly to loosen the pull of the rope.

Someone was holding me back, and I clawed at their hands. But that just added another person, and another...

I fought and screamed and cried against the arms that held me back.

Feet were stomped on, wrists bitten, fingers bent back...

But they didn't let go.

His face was now purple, eyes bulging and red.

"It was me! It was me, okay!" A small voice screamed from the hill to my right.

There stood Charlotte, a twelve year old girl with blonde hair that was in two braids.

I heard she had been sent to the ground after attacking the guards that floated her parents.

"I killed Wells! Not Murphy!"

As her words were being registered, the arms and hands that were holding me hostage, loosened, and I lunged toward John, who was now limp.

"Cut him down! Somebody, please!" I begged as I jumped in the air in a pathetic attempt to reach him.

"Cut him down!" Bellamy ordered.

His body feel to the ground with a thud, and I shook his shoulders.

"John, please wake up!" I sobbed.

He gasped, sitting up and yanking the rope off of his neck.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're safe now." I engulfed him in a hug as he trembled beneath my touch.

All eyes were now on Charlotte, who had Bellamy next to her, crouched down so he could be at eye level with her.

She honestly couldn't have been bigger than a dog. A tiny thing, she was.

Did she really kill Wells? Or was that just a desperate ploy to save John's life?

"Charolette, what are you talking about?" Bellamy asked in disbelief.

Fear in her eyes made her seem even more vulnerable than she already was.

"You told me to slay my demons, Bellamy. Jaha killed my parents, and I can't get to Jaha, so I killed his son."

Everyone went quiet.

"Charlotte that's not what I meant. You KNOW that's not what I meant." Bellamy grabbed the young girl by her shoulders and shook her.

She nodded, tears falling to the ground.

"Well I say we kill the little bitch the same way you tried to kill me." John was now on his feet, angry marks on his neck bleeding and raised, crimson red and berry purple...

Agreement stirred amongst the crowd, and Bellamy stood in front of the girl.

"John, she's just a child." I reminded him softly, reaching out and touching is arm. Surely he had more sense than this.

"Pick, (Y/N). Me, or the kid?" He rasped.

I stuttered, words failing.

His eyes were cold.

"Just as I suspected. Maybe they got that part wrong. Maybe you're the Beast," He shoved me away, the rope still in his hands.

"Who's with me?!" Several people raised their fists and shouted in agreement.

"She could have killed any one of us, and the blame could have been on you, or you!" He thrusted his index finger toward people at random in the crowd.

"Nobody is dying today!" Bellamy hollered, Charolette still cowering behind him.

John flung the rope to the ground.

"A little to late for that, Bellamy. Why not her, next? She killed one of our people!"

No one could argue against that.

John lunged forward, and Bellamy held his arms out protectively.

After that, it was a madhouse.

People rushing from our side to Bellamy's to protect the little girl, and people joining John.

I was shoved from behind, and everything went black.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

"John! Run!"

I'm in a small tent, yet I still throw the blankets about, searching for him.

The first few days after his banishment, I convinced myself it was all a bad dream.

I wish it was.

Now over two weeks had passed and I still woke up screaming.

I made my bed, picking up John's sweatshirt as I did so, and inhaled his scent.

How long did I have until it faded?

There was a rap on the flimsy material of the tent, and Harper appeared, smiling.

"(Y/N), breakfast."

I turned away, my arms crossed and bottom lip jutted out like I was a four year old losing an argument.

She sighed, leaving a small bowl of berries next to the entrance of the shelter, and left.

After Clarke and Bellamy were the only ones to return from the woods, I cut everyone else off.

I didn't talk to anyone, let alone acknowledge their existence.

I still helped around, but that was for my sake. They would banish me, too if I wasn't of any use.

I fell into a rut the day John left.

His final words to me played like a broken record.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Wake up.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Make my bed.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Have breakfast.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Work.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Break time.

"Maybe you're the beast."

More work.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Dinner.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Bed time.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Repeat.

Maybe I was the beast.

Was I really as selfless as people made me out to be?

No, I was being smart. No one knows what happened to John, or if he was even still alive.

But what would John have done if the situation were reversed?

He would have gone after me, no questions asked.

I hated myself for the fact.

I had become the bitter girl.

I no longer sang the little ones to sleep.

I no longer offered hugs or advice.

I sat on a log, skinning squirrels and rabbits, staring blankly ahead as the day progressed.

Forgiveness had always been my thing.

Not anymore.

Bellamy had tried on more than one occasion to apologize to me, as did Clarke, and everyone else who took part in the hanging of John Murphy.

And every time, I told them to stick it where the sun don't shine.

"You have to talk to us eventually." Octavia approached me, knife in hand.

Silence.

"You can't keep ignoring us forever."

You wanna bet?

"(Y/N), I-."

"What? If I don't speak, you gonna string me up too? Like you did to John?"

I blinked away tears.

"We didn't know. We thought-."

"There's the thing, Octavia. You DID know. You knew John was innocent. You just wanted someone to pin it on." I interrupted her once more, tears breaking through the dam behind my eyelids.

The unmistakable bang of a gunshot made everyone jump. We all turned our heads to the source of the sound. Nate Miller was on guard, and he shot once more.

"Hold it!" Octavia yelled, running to Nate, me hot on her trail.

"Is it a Grounder?" Octavia asked Miller.

He blinked several times.

"I-I don't know. I just saw movement, and-."

"You could have just shot one of our people! I need a team with me. Let's move out."

Octavia grabbed a gun, and someone opened the gate.

I tagged along, not even caring if it was a Grounder.

What did I have to lose?

We jogged through the forest, eyes wide and alert.

Nothing.

No sound or movement of any kind. Whatever animals that had been around here were probably chased away by Miller's shot.

"Octavia, up there." Someone pointed in the distance to someone laying on the ground, unmoving.

I lurched forward, ignoring the hisses and orders of  "Get back here!"

Really, what did I have to lose?

John was gone.

He called me a beast.

I picked Charolette over him.

Maybe what I deserved was a Grounder killing me.

That would be less painful than what I dealt with each day.

But it wasn't a Grounder.

Through caked mud, dried blood, and cracked leaves and debris, I could still make out the broken boy who was indeed John Murphy.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

"Clarke! We need Clarke!" Octavia screamed as several boys hauled John back to camp.

Was this a nightmare, too?

"What's going on?" Clarke jogged to Octavia's side, and glanced at me.

Clarke frowned, and grabbed my face.

Her hands felt hot.

I felt like I couldn't breath.

"She's in shock. Octavia what-."

"It's Murphy. He's alive. We found him outside of camp." Octavia panted.

The blonde girls attention turned to Murphy, who was now half conscious and confused.

"Bring him into the drop ship." Clarke ordered.

I began to follow, but my knees gave out and I collapsed.

Bellamy barely caught me by my elbows, and lead me to a makeshift chair where he called over Monty and Jasper to keep an eye on me.

Part of me wanted so badly to be with John. To ask him where he had been, what had happened...

Finally, Clarke emerged from the drop ship, hands stained a blood red, brows furrowed.

I jumped up so fast I nearly fell down again.

"What's going on? Is he okay?" My throat was tight and it burned to speak.

Clarke bit her lip, silent.

"Is he-."

"He's alive, but he's not in good shape." She answered, a hundred pound weight was lifted off my chest.

"What happened?" Jasper stood with me, unaware of the current situation.

Clarke hesitated, something she hardly ever did.

"A few days after we banished him, Murphy had been with the Grounders. He told them everything about our camp, and...they just let him go."

Monty scowled.

"Yeah, right. Murphy's always been a liar. He'll say anything to-."

"His fingernails have been ripped off, Monty. He was tortured. He's not lying."

Silence fell over us, and a wounded animal sound escaped my lips.

Clarke turned to me, harshly rubbing her hands on her pants in an attempt to scrub off the blood.

"He's asking for you, (Y/N). Don't be surprised when you go in there and see him chained up."

I had left before she had even finished her sentence.

John was alive... John was alive, and he wanted to see me.

I tripped over the threshold at the entrance, but that didn't slow me down.

He was indeed chained.

His wrists were bound with shiny handcuffs to a thick pole.

I lunged towards him, dropping on my hands and knees, taking his filthy face in my hands.

"John, oh, John, you're alive!" I exclaimed, tears sprouting in my eyes.

He smirked the same smirk I had grown to love, and the chains rattled as he tried to move his hands to wipe away my tears.

"It's okay. Let's clean you up." I stood, Bellamy's eyes focused on the two of us.

Of course, there had to be an armed guard.

"You could at least lower the gun." I seethed.

He didn't.

I had retrieved a wet cloth, and a cup of water to bring back to John.

He drank thirstily as I held the cup to his lips.

He gasped, exasperated by the little movement he had made.

I took the cloth, and began dabbing away the dirt that was caked onto his forehead. Some of it mixed with blood, and it looked painful.

He winced, and coughed.

"Sorry. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can." I apologized, pressing softer on the spots that appeared to be more tender.

"(Y/N)-."

"Hush, now. It's okay. Save your breath. We can talk later."

He relaxed a bit as I cleaned his face, humming as I did so.

Although my touch was gentle, he reacted otherwise, flinching away every time the wet cloth was brought to his face.

Unbeknownst to me, my eyes wandered aimlessly to his hands which were cracked, bleeding, and caked with dried tree sap, and dirt. My stomach did a flip as I realized Clarke was telling the truth. His fingernails were gone.

My throat grew tight, and I struggled to swallow the lump that had formed.

He was tortured.

He was really tortured.

"(Y/N)..." He spoke my name, his voice raspy, and his shackled hands reached up to my face once more, and I allowed him to wipe away the falling tears which had began to stream down my face again.

We didn't speak after that. Although I was positive that the salt was entering his wounds, hurting him furthermore, he wiped every single tear away as I dabbed at his face.

I took deep breaths, willing myself to calm down.

It's okay, (Y/N). Focus on one thing at a time.

Nearly all of the blood and grime had been washed away from his face, when John gasped and cupped his hand over his throat, sputtering and frantically flailing his arms about as if oxygen had suddenly refused to enter his lungs.

I don't even have time to turn my head before thick, hot blood was spewed into my face along with an array of the food that had been keeping John alive these past few weeks.

I heard Bellamy curse, and he dropped his loaded gun to the floor, sprinting out of the drop ship, screaming for Clarke as he did so.

John was on his side now, his face in a puddle of his own bloody vomit.

I struggled to keep down my meager breakfast.

Clarke rushed in, her cheeks alive with a red rouge.

She inched past me and kneeled down next to John, who was just beginning to catch his breath.

Clarke's hands were steady as she checked his pulse. She frowned, and then felt his forehead with the back of her hand.

She jerked away like his skin was as hot as a flame.

"What's happening to me?" John sniffed, blood now protruding from his terrified eyes.

The color in Clarke's cheeks was gone now, and she turned to both Bellamy and I.

"What is it? What's wrong with him?" Even Bellamy struggled to remain composed.

Clarke blinked a few times, debating if whether or not we should know.

"Clarke!" Bellamy's voice was full of worry.

The blonde girl shook her head, and gathered her senses.

"It's biological warfare. The Grounders infected him when they held him hostage. They knew he would come back, and they knew we would take him in. We don't have the genes to fight it off. They're trying to kill us."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Two different sections had been set up in the drop ship, now.

The lower level is where the sick and dying lay on stained blankets, and cold metal. The upper floor held both those who were showing symptoms, or those who had been around anyone who was already infected.

Clarke urged me to seek refuge in the upper level, where the coughs and groans and hacking of the lungs were suppressed by the thick metal trapdoor.

I bluntly refused, explaining that I was the first one to even touch John, and I was likely already infected. It wouldn't make sense to hole me up with people who possibly weren't even sick.

She halfheartedly agreed, only to the advantage that an extra pair of hands was helping. And God knows she needed them.

Whatever this was, it was spreading, and it was spreading fast.

Within the hour, twenty other cases were diagnosed by Clarke, and she, Bellamy, and I worked feverishly to get everything situated and keep everyone comfortable.

I had possibly seen more blood now than I had even seen back on The Ark when our class went on a field trip to Medbay, where we were given a tour of the blood bank, and explained to how transfusions worked.

At first, I attempted to tiptoe around the stringy vomit and clotted blood, but gave up when Clarke informed me that my shoes would protect my feet from contact.

Out of all of those who were afflicted, John was passed the most by the reluctant volunteers who wiped away blood and tears, and handed out cups of water.

My feet sloshed in stale vomit with a pungent smell as I witnessed John begin to convulse with shivers from fever.

The once wet compress that had been laid across his forehead, was now warm, and served no purpose. If anything, it was trapping the fever inside of him.

I removed the cloth, and dipped it in a nearby bucket of water that had been dispersed throughout the room for purposes such as this.

His teeth chattered violently.

"(Y-Y/N)." John's chest heaved with unfinished breaths, and I wiped the overgrown bangs away from his face.

"It's okay. Just rest." I hushed him.

If it were even possible, his skin blazed hotter than before, and his eyes grew dark.

"You haven't let me s-say a damn word every s-since I got h-here." His attempt to come across as angry and menacing was lost in a fit of dry coughs.

I helped him sit up, and rested his head so it was laying on my chest.

Once he had managed to catch his breath, I made him drink a few sips of water.

"You've spoken enough. You need to rest." I laid him back down, removing my sweatshirt and propping up his head with it so he could breath a bit easier.

He reached out for my hand, and I grabbed his fingertips, forgetting the absence of his nails.

He yelped, and pulled away instinctively.

I took his hand more gently this time, and traced meaningless patterns on the rough skin.

"They t-tortured m-me, y'know?" His eyes found mine.

Another flip in my stomach.

"I know." I whispered, my voice barley audible to myself.

John closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxing a little as he came to the realization that I wasn't going to hurt him.

"They beat me, and b-burned me, and tore off my nails, and cut me-."

"John, stop." I interrupted, feeling guilty the moment I did so.

If it helped him to talk about it, why stop him?

"But none of that compared to the torture it was of being w-without you," His eyes opened once more as he continued, and I saw something I thought I would never see again.

The John Murphy that I know and love.

"Th-they kept asking me for your name. I was so afraid they were going to h-hurt you, (Y/N). I told th-them they could know everything e-else, but not you."

His words were both comforting, and painful at the same time.

John cared about me this whole time? This entire time he was away?

And even though John cared for me, and I for him, how much time did he have left?

I suddenly wished he didn't confide in me. It would be easier to move on with his death thinking that he hated me.

And death was inevitable.

Two people had died already, after the fever basically melted them from the inside out.

Their deaths were bloody and violent, accompanied with choking and tears.

No one, not even Clarke had hope for them. The best we could do was hold their hand and whisper "May we meet again." as they took their final breath.

My fingers had ceased to move across his skin, and both my mind and my mouth struggled to find the right words.

"I thought you hated me." Was the best I was able to come up with in the heat of the moment.

John's sarcastic scoff was accompanied with saliva and blood which dribbled down his chin. He raised his hand weakly to wipe it away.

"Did the B-Beast ever stop loving the Beauty?" He asked me, voice low, and words slurred. Fatigue seemed overcome him, and he fought to remain conscious.

I blanked, my mind combing through the story I had grown up on. What had the Beauty done to the Beast? Sure, he was angry for whatever she had done, but did he ever really stop loving her?

"To put it simply, no. He was just... angry. He didn't mean anything he said." I whispered.

John yawned, and his lips curled up a bit into a half smile.

"And the Beauty forgave the Beast. No matter how much of a douchebag he was to her. Just proving how amazing she is." John smirked weakly.

"Rest, now." My hands became slick with perspiration as I pushed away the hair from his forehead which began to stick.

There was a song that went with the story, and I began to hum it as John's eyes closed, and sleep overcame his battered body.

Reality settled over me like a thick and heavy blanket, and I realized how awful the atmosphere was inside.

How long I had been tending to the sick, I don't know. But I did know that I needed to get some fresh air before I completely lost my mind. The enclosed space and the oder of the blood and vomit made me feel nauseated.

I tiptoed over bodies and cups of water to the opening of the drop ship, and stepped outside.

Twilight was fast approaching, and the few people who were experiencing no symptoms at all sat huddled together by the fire speaking in hushed voices.

"Hey, wanna hear a joke?"

Jasper Jordan stood a good ten feet away from me, his hand holding the leg of a rabbit which he ravenously consumed.

I weakly smiled, grateful for the shred of positivity the boy had the offer.

"Sure, why not?" I grinned.

Jasper smirked, and spoke through a mouthful of food.

"So a sick Grounder walks into a hospital and says-."

Jaspers eyes suddenly widened, and he stumbled back, tripping over a stick, dropping his food onto the soil as his hands instinctively brace himself.

I placed my hands on my hips, waiting for the punchline.

"Well?" I tapped my foot impatiently. A joke shouldn't take this long to tell, and I had to get back to the sick.

"Your-your eyes. They're bleeding." Jaspers voice was high pitched, and he continued to back away until his body hit the fence.

I scowled, not in the mood for a prank.

"Jasper, that's not funny. There are people in there who are-."

My voice came to a halt when I reached up to my eyes to prove there was no blood, but was met with it.

It coated my fingers and dripped onto a rock.

I screamed, backing away from Jasper, and my back hit the drop ship.

I sunk to the ground, my hands feverishly wiping the blood from my eyes which were now mixed with tears, creating the effect of more blood than there was.

Bellamy ran out of the drop ship, machine gun in hand, his eyes frantic for the sight of whatever he thought was in camp.

The last thing I remember is his brown eyes meeting mine, and his lips forming an incoherent sentence which I failed to hear as everything went black.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Something weighed heavy on my chest. I remember, once, when I was younger and recovering from pneumonia, a doctor had stacked a few books on my chest and made me breathe with them on me. He said the point was to strengthen my lungs and my breathing, but it only added anxiety and claustrophobia.

It was like I couldn't move, and I was grateful when someone turned my head to the side for me where I noisily began to vomit.

I could taste the blood, but there was no food to come up. Just acidic bile. It burned my throat and I cried out.

"It's okay. I'm right here." A familiar voice sounded far away, and everything moved in slow motion.

"John?" I think I spoke between the firs of coughing.

I was dizzy, but a hand made me sit up and drink some water which I immediately threw up.

My vision was blurry, but I could make out what was around me.

John looked so much better. It was like he was never even sick. His cheeks were still a bit pale, but he was sitting up, and sweat wasn't dumping from his pores anymore.

Less than a half dozen people lay around me on worn out seat cushions and soiled sheets of cloth. Bellamy Blake was to my right, and Octavia was helping him drink some water.

"Wh-." My questions were cut short as John shushed me and held me close to his chest.

Tears fell from his eyes and landed on the top of my head.

"Why are you crying?" It hurt to speak, and I wondered how long I had been unconscious.

He didn't speak right then, but held me tighter.

"I thought I lost you. I heard you scream and then I saw Bellamy carried you inside. I thought you were dead." His voice turned quiet as he spoke the last sentence, and it was my turn to comfort him.

"But I'm here. You're here. And we're okay." I rubbed his arm soothingly.

He helped me lay back down, the simple act of even being propped up exhausted me.

As he situated himself next to me, I noticed those who were sick not only five minutes ago up and about.

John noticed my frown, and he pushed a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

"What?" He questioned, mimicking my frown.

"How-how long was I asleep?" I asked.

He sighed.

"Almost a day. Clarke thinks this is just a 24 hour thing. Once you've had it, you can't get it anymore."

It made sense. Some of the sicknesses on The Ark were similar to the 24 hour period.

The wool blanket over me offered little warmth, and I shivered.

John held me closer, and made it to where my head was laying on his chest.

"You cold?" He asked me, already worming his way out of his jacket.

He laid it on top of me, and a fresh set of tears pooled in my eyes.

"What's the matter? Where do you hurt?" Murphy's eyes darted to Clarke for assistance, who also lay shivering on the floor of the drop ship.

"It smells like you." I whispered, my words weighing foolish and pathetic.

I could feel his head cock to the side on confusion.

"I used to sleep with your sweatshirt in the tent. I was worried that the scent of you would fade too soon, and I would have nothing left to hold on to."

It really did hurt to talk, and the fact that a lump was forming in my sandpaper dry throat didn't help matters.

John's strong hands took mine and forced me to look him in the eyes.

"But I'm here, now," He said firmly.

I nodded, crushing myself up against him, afraid that he would disappear into thin air.

He stroked my hair, and I listened to the comforting and familiar beat of his heart.

"I'm here."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

♡Masterlist♡

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[finnsgrin]

Monty Green Preference - You’re Deaf

Monty Green x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: bellameblake (I chose this specific blurry GIF, because this is how I envision reader to see Monty when she is going through a migraine)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Word count: 1,266

Published: July 26, 2020

TW: Deafness, mentions of torture, chronic pain

Spoilers: S2

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

♡Masterlist♡

Monty Green

The accident had ensued over a month ago. Of course, nothing on the ground was ever really an accident.

The Grounders meant to harm you. Hell, their goal was to kill you, but your best friend, Murphy, had swooped in and saved you at just the right moment.

Your eyes were closed at the moment, a folded up tee shirt draped over them to cover the nonexistent light that protruded through the nonexistent windows in your dorm that you shared with your boyfriend, Monty, at Camp Jaha.

You were one of the unlucky ones who weren't trapped and held captive by the Mountain Men. Those at the mountain called you lucky, but you disagreed. You would much rather have a drill penetrate through your thigh than your head smashed against a rock until you lose sight in your left eye.

The sliding door opened, and your head began to pound at the slight altercation in sound frequency.

"Sorry, babe." You heard Monty's soft voice, and his footsteps approached you.

A hand gently brushed away wisps of hair which were matted to your forehead by a thin sheet of perspiration, and your lips curled up into a small smile at his touch which sent pleasant jolts of electricity through you every time you touched.

"Another migraine?" He whispered.

You gave a thumbs up, as the simple act of nodding your head sent pain from the top of your head to the tips of your toes every time you did so.

It happened again. Not the pain, but the dullness.

Every once in a while, your brain would become fuzzy, and all the sounds around you would sound as if they were submerged underwater.

"Babe?" Monty whispered a little louder.

"Hmm?" You groaned.

"I asked if Abby had been to see you today."

"Oh. Um... no, I don't think so." You replied.

This migraine had really screwed up your perception of time, and sometimes you didn't even remember where you were.

"I think you should go and see her in medical. Maybe she can get you something for the pain,"

You started to nod, but stopped once the pain submerged.

"I'm gonna go get you a wheelchair." He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, and left.

Everything had been... off, lately. Without the sight in your eye, and your head with a mind of its own, your balance had been as advanced as a toddlers. You were either carried, or pushed in a wheelchair.

Monty returned, but you didn't hear him renter the room, as the water began to bubble over your ears once more.

He rested his hand on yours, and you slowly swung your feet over the side of the bed, where, thankfully, a small metal trash can was, and you threw up noisily into it.

Monty held your hair back as you cried. Not only did your head hurt like hell, but you were so nauseated, it was almost impossible to keep anything down.

"It's getting worse, Mont." You whimpered as you lifted your head up to meet his soft doe eyes.

His heart broke at the sight of you like this in pure agony.

"It's gonna be okay. We're..."

He cut out again.

"Babe? (Y/N)? Babe?" He shook your shoulders, and you looked up at him, where his eyes were alarmed.

"I did it again, didn't I?" You whispered.

He pulled you into a tight hug, stroking your hair in a soothing manner.

His lips were close to your ear, and you could hear him better.

"We're gonna get through this. Together."

You were helped into the wheelchair, and Monty wheeled you out of the room and down to medical where Dr Abby Griffin was waiting for you.

"Hello, (Y/N). How are you doing today?" She asked you with a pleasant smile.

You just groaned in response, giving a haphazard thumbs up.

"She threw up not two minutes ago." Monty said.

You were lifted up onto a soft bed, where needles and tubes were jabbed into your skin introducing a plethora of different liquids and medications to your bloodstream.

"Something for the pain and nausea..." Dr Griffin adjusted a tube full of clear liquid, and you sighed as the pain eased and your mind felt fuzzy.

"Hey, Monty." You slurred, and giggled.

Monty raised an eyebrow, and turned to the doctor.

"It's the morphine. I'm gonna keep her here on a drip until we can figure out what's going on. Hopefully get some solid food into her. I don't like how much weight she's lost," Abby frowned.

"I'm going to check with Dr Jackson and see if the CAT Scan is available. I'll be right back." She nodded and smiled at Monty, and left.

Monty looked back at you, where you were currently enjoying your moments where the pain could be eased temporarily.

He watched you as you lay in the bed, now asleep, and he fiddled with his fingers which were shaking from nerves.

Abby returned with Jackson not five minutes later, and got you ready to move your bed to the testing room.

Monty stood to follow, but was stopped by a kind smile.

"Sorry, Monty, but only doctors are allowed back during exams such as these. You can wait here." Abby placed a cold hand on Monty's shoulder, and he reluctantly sat back down.

You had been gone for 30 minutes... 45 minutes... an hour... two...

He had just jumped up from his seat, when Abby returned, a mixture of emotions in her eyes.

Monty's heart sunk to the pit of his stomach, and he knew that this wasn't good news.

"Monty, have a seat." Abby gestured to his seat which he had been sitting in for the past two hours.

"Wh-where is she?" Monty craned his neck, searching for you. "Is she okay?" His voice cracked.

"Yes, and no..." The Doctor confessed.

Monty felt his blood run cold.

Yes, and no?

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Monty sat down, his trembling knees unable to support the weight of his own body.

Abby wheeled over a stool, and sat on it, looking Monty in his eyes.

There was nothing she could have done to prepare him for the awful news she delivered, and there was no easy way to tell you when you woke up.

-

Monty was there when your eyes fluttered open. He was on your right side, as that was the only eye you could see out of.

"Hi." You croaked, your throat dry.

Monty turned to you, his eyes bloodshot, and he smiled painfully.

"Hey there." He placed his hand on yours.

"What's wrong?" You asked with a frown.

Monty's mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, fresh tears began to flow down his cheeks, and you raised your hand to wipe them away.

"You... they... they ran some tests." He managed to choke out.

Under normal circumstances, your anxiety would be through the roof. But whatever concoction of pain medication and anxiety suppressors that was flowing through your veins made it to where you just felt sad. Sad for the broken boy before your eyes.

"And?" Your throat was tight, and became drier.

Monty swallowed a lump in his throat, and refused to meet your gaze.

"You'll be completely deaf in a few months. Maybe sooner. There's nothing they can do. I'm- I'm so, so, sorry, (Y/N)." He broke at the end of his sentence, and buried his face into the covers down by your legs.

Deaf?

No.

That... that couldn't be possible.

A whimper from your lips brought Monty back, and he held you as you cried.

The dullness returned, and for once you were grateful. Grateful that you couldn't hear the wails of your one true love, and the cries of your own as you grieved for what you were losing.

For how long Monty held you, you were unsure of. But once your ability to hear resurfaced, you could make out the words he whispered in your ear.

"We'll make it through this. Together."

♡Masterlist♡

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[finnsgrin]

Finn Collins Preference - You’re Deaf

Finn Collins x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: okjaa

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Word count: 752

Published: July 26, 2020

TW: Deafness, bullying

Spoilers: None

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

♡Masterlist♡

Finn Collins

Words are the first course of action that comes to mind when you think of bullying. But words had never really been a problem for you, because you couldn't hear them. People were more physical when it came to you, which sucked, because you tried your hardest to be as nonviolent as possible.

It was mainly the boys who did it. The ones who were told that their shift was done for the day, and they weren't needed anymore. The boys who apparently had nothing better to do with their lives then try and make yours as miserable as possible.

"What's up, freak?" Is what you would hear behind you, along with the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves underneath heavy boots and approaching footsteps.

You hands were occupied at the moment, carefully loading a gun with the fresh ammunition Raven Reyes had made.

You were shoved from behind, the sudden harsh act of violence pushing you to the ground where your stunned face fell in the dirt and you got a mouthful of it.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, and you made sure to keep a tight hold on the weapon you were preparing. One false move and someone could be dead, so it probably wasn't the best idea for them to do that.

You spit the dirt out of your mouth, scrunching your noise up at the taste and gritty texture.

Setting the gun on the log next to you, you held your hands out in front of you.

Stop! Please! Your eyes read.

The leader of the pack was a tall boy with a buzz cut and flared nose. He turned and said something to his friend, who then laughed.

Your hands moved slowly, and you hoped that somehow they could understand you.

Please, stop. I haven't done anything to you.

But they only laughed again, and you could read the lips of one of them.

"I think she's asking for more, Travis."

The leader smirked at the comment, and shoved you to the ground once more.

Around you was currently isolated except for you and the bullies. You could call out for help, but what good would that do? They would just do it again.

You braced yourself for the inevitable blow to the face, and closed your eyes.

But it never came.

When you opened your eyes, there was tall boy with bushy eyebrows and shaggy hair. He was holding the boy who was about to punch you up by the collar of his shirt, seemingly screaming at him. He shoved him to the ground.

The bullies scampered away, not even looking back.

You laid there, stunned. No one had ever stood up for you like that. Sure, people told bullies to knock it off, but they were never like this.

The boy now turned to you, his brows furrowed. He held out his hand as an offering to help you up.

You took it.

"Are you okay?" He asked you, his lips moving slowly.

You nodded.

"You're (Y/N), right? And you're deaf?"

You nodded again, wishing you could ask for his name.

He smiled, and pointed where the assholes had run off.

"Those dicks won't bother you again."

It was your turn to smile, and the two of you stood in silence for a moment.

"Come with me." The boy said to you, pointing to the direction of a small tent.

Dazed, you followed. First, you were saved by a handsome stranger, and now he was inviting you to his tent?

When you entered, he went straight to a small makeshift table, and beckoned you to sit across from him where he slid you a piece of paper and a slab of charcoal to use as a writing utensil.

You cocked your head to the side in confusion.

The boy grinned.

"I figured you could write, and I could speak. That way we can communicate."

Your heart swelled at this simple act of kindness this stranger had thought of.

You took the charcoal, and began to write.

Thank you. You wrote.

He smiled.

"You're welcome."

What's your name? You scrawled.

A sudden look of realization registered on the boys face.

"Oh, I'm Finn. Finn Collins."

Finn... what a dreamy name.

You two spent hours talking.

He waited patiently in between everything you wrote, and he made sure to enunciate his words well enough for you to understand without having to repeat them.

At the end of the night, you two ended up sitting together at the fire. The bullies kept glaring at you, and Finn noticed, and wrapped his arm protectively around your shoulder.

Although you couldn't read his lips in the dark, you knew he was protecting you, and there were no words needed for you to understand that.

♡Masterlist♡

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[finnsgrin]

John Murphy Preference: You’re Deaf

John Murphy x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: enfantlunaire

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Word count: 536

Published on: July 26, 2020

TW: Deafness

Spoilers: None

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

♡Masterlist♡

John Murphy

John Murphy stood at a part of the drop ship which was shiny enough to see your own reflection. Mainly, the girls were seen there fixing their hair and applying berry juices to their cheeks and lips for added color, but today, Murphy wanted to look presentable.

"Hey, what's up?" The boy mumbled to himself, and then shook his head in disgust.

He cleared his throat, trying again.

"Nice weather today, right?"

He smacked himself on the forehead.

"Seriously, Murphy? Asking her about the weather?" He scolded himself.

Smoothing out his jacket which was speckled in dirt, he flipped his hair in a way of what he thought would look sexy, but it just flopped into his eyes.

"Oh, screw it." He waved off his doubt, and looked at the girl on the log who was sharpening a stick to be used as a weapon.

That girl was you.

Murphy had had his eyes on you as soon as you first landed onto the ground, and today he was going to make his move.

He walked up behind you, in what he thought was the "cool" way to walk, but ended up looking more like a penguin who needed to use the bathroom.

He cleared his throat, waiting for you to turn around.

But you didn't. You sat there, your eyes focused intently on the stick.

So he decided to open with a joke. That would get your attention.

"Hey, what's brown and sticky?" He asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

Nothing. You were completely oblivious to your surroundings.

"A stick." He finished his joke, and waited for the laughter that was sure to ensue.

Silence.

Murphy's cheeks glowed a brilliant red, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.

"You know she's deaf, right?" Your best friend Harper McIntyre was doing her best to not laugh with a group of girls nearby who were sorting out nuts.

"Yeah, no kidding." John scoffed, kicking a pebble with his foot.

Harper frowned.

"No, I mean it. She's literally deaf. She didn't hear a word you just said. Watch,"

Harper turned to you, and cupped her hands to her mouth.

"HEY! (Y/N)!" She screamed.

Every other head except yours turned in her direction.

Murphy's embarrassment grew.

"And you didn't think to tell me before I made a fool of myself?" Murphy hissed as Harper and her friends giggled at Murphy's unawareness.

"No, I thought of it. But it was funny." She laughed

Murphy rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

"Hey," Harper stopped him.

He reluctantly turned back, sighing heavily.

"I can teach you a few things in sign language if you want. She can read lips just fine, but I think it'll impress her more if you know some." She smirked.

"And who says I want to impress her?" Murphy shot back quickly.

Harper raised her eyebrows.

Murphy sighed.

"Okay, fine. But nothing embarrassing, okay?"

At the end of the day, Murphy had mastered how to spell out his name, and compliment your carving skills.

You beamed, signing back quickly.

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth.

"Uh, that's all Harper showed me." He admitted sheepishly.

Although you couldn't speak, you could laugh, and it was music to Murphy's ears.

He smiled, and you planted a kiss on his cheek.

He blushed once more, and he couldn't wait to learn more sign language.

John Murphy isn't a patient person. But for you, he would do anything.

♡Masterlist♡

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