#headstrongblake

trinity rolled her eyes hearing that, deepening the small frown she had on her face into a scowl as she avoided looking at him. her arms laid crossed over her chest as she slunk back down into the sofa chair she was seated in. as nick sat down beside her she turned her head away. "well that's a stupid thing to think," she answered harshly, chest aching with misery as she watched octavia and alec speaking quietly to themselves while the other man, grant, leaned against the wall nearby. of course she had been over the moon when they finally found the two, that octavia was alive and back, but trinity also learned very quickly that the girl she had fallen in love with, the girl who had been taken from her, was no longer anywhere within the girl they found.

not to mention how distrusting she was, and how jealous trinity felt while looking at her and alec interacting, how she felt an unjust hatred for the other man standing there when she should be grateful. he helped save her, helped find their way back to bellamy and her, and yet the way he would look at her, the way they would interact, just slightly too friendly considered to how octavia acted with her now, it cut her deeply. not to mention all the completely unspeakable things that happened to her while she was a prisoner and torture subject under hydra. every time she would look at her, see how dull those green eyes had become, how rarely she smiles, how traumatized she is -- it kills trinity.

hi! i've actually got a few already made that might be perfect for you!

PROMPTS FOR DRAMATIC REUNIONS "I'M SORRY, I JUST HAD TO FIND YOU" PROMPTS "YOU CAME BACK FOR ME" PROMPTS

this is how i die. 

They’d all split up; its his least favorite tactic but they’d had no choice with how pinned down they were. Their last resort was to split up, but he’d doubled back to make sure the woads had him in their crosshairs to avoid them going after the others, and the effort had cost him. He snapped the tail of the arrow that had pierced his side but hadn’t taken the whole arrow out for fear of bleeding out before he can reach the others. There wasn’t anything to be done about the one that had gone in and out of his calf or the bruised- possibly broken- ribs from the mace he’d taken to the side. 

Now, alone, wandering the woods and wondering why they hadn’t just finished him off when they had the chance, he stumbled from tree to tree, leaving bloodied handprints against the bark of the trees he passed, haphazardly trying to navigate his way home as bloodloss started to seep in and his thoughts started to go foggy. Finally he missed a step and went crashing to the ground, only able to push himself into a sitting position against a tree and wait for death. 

how long will they wait for me before they realize what happened? please, gods, let nick take care of them.   he doesn’t want to be in charge but please, he’s all they’ve got… i beg you, don’t punish octavia for my actions- please watch over her… she’s lost two important men to her now… give her strength to keep going don’t let louis get them killed…  let fox find the others safely…  let mbege realize they can be his family if he lets them…

He’s drifting in and out of consciousness, tears slipping down his cheeks at the thought of his little family having to go on alone, at the terrifying thought that he might not be the only one that didn’t make it back to them, that his decision to split up might have gotten more than just him killed. 

And then Nick’s voice, muffled at first but growing louder, then hands on him, trying to shake loose the white fog clouding his head, forcing him back, for whatever it was worth, to the land of the living, framed around Nicklas’ familiar, fearful expression. 

send ◘ to grab my muse’s jaw, forcing them to look at yours. / o & dealer's choice —— @headstrongblake

There is a part of him that knew this was going to happen again, he’d spent so long locked up in prison that he’d almost thought of it as home. He’d denied all his mothers visits and when he was released it hadn’t been into her care, no he’d been cast out into world as an 18 year old that had been in prison since he was nine basically. There had been stints of freedom before he’d be hauled back to juvie for them, the fact that he had murder on his rap sheet at such a young age had never done him any favours.

Didn’t matter that his old man had been about to kill his mom, oh no, hadn’t mattered at all because his dad had been a military man and an upstanding citizen.

Bullshit.

His jaw clenched as the cop told him he was being requested to come down for questioning. It didn’t matter that he’d been clean of any crimes since he’d last been put away, didn’t matter that his records were supposedly sealed. Octavia’s outraged yell had him looking at her sharply, his own rapidly fraying temper going taught and he was maybe tougher than he intended as he grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him. “You listen to me, you call Marien, her numbers on my dresser,” he said, forcing her eyes to his face. “You help me out and get my lawyer down to the precinct.” The cop grabbed his arm, making him pull out of it, shrugging off the rough treatment much better than he had when he’d been younger.

He’d learned not to hit the pigs or else he’d end up with a busted face and ribs, they already hated him for what he’d done. Getting hauled out of the house he shared with some other artists that worked at the shop he kept his eyes on Octavia, her green eyes filled with both anger and tears as he was shoved towards the cop cars. “You call her! Don’t let me down Blake!”

A rough hand grabbed his hair shoving him into the back of the police car none to kindly and as he sat with the handcuffs digging into his tattooed wrists he figured it was inevitable. He hadn’t been anywhere close to Jasper, didn’t have a clue what had happened to him, but if they searched his room for evidence they’d find it. Octavia had come to him, he’d helped clean her up, and the blood she’d been covered in hadn’t been hers. They still hadn’t figured out what had happened to their friend but Sebastian knew his blood was in the drains, on his desk chair and who the fuck knew where else?

@headstrongblake​ said:  𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔟𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤.

Murphy’s heart feels like it’s pounding as hard as Mbege’s fist on the door to Octavia’s apartment. He’s pressed against the wall, out of sight, but his calm exterior sharply contrasts with the anxious tension gnawing inside of him. He has every reason to believe his best friend, but it doesn’t feel real. Octavia has a new address, a new telephone number, a whole new life that she cut him out of. He hates deceiving his way into a forced reunion, but she’d never agree to see him otherwise. So Murphy waits until the door opens for Mbege, but instead, he pushes his way inside.

There are so many people. It stokes Ontari’s anxiety. Nia is working the room, and Ontari wants to stand on the table and scream at everyone. Look at me. See me. Since Roan’s banishment, Nia’s changed the rules of succession within their kingdom. Ontari will take command when the Queen’s reign is over, but the law also allows her to rise to the throne of any usurped lands, such as Lexa’s kingdom. So the plans are kept secret, and Ontari stands in frustrated silence, wishing she could disappear. 

Usually, the spy royal guard, Echo, keeps careful watch, but Ontari notices her distracted by the king’s gaze. Ontari takes the opportunity to slip out of the banquet room into the quiet relief of a long hall, which she follows aimlessly, getting lost down twisted corridors. The sounds of festivities fade, and at the end of a long hallway, Ontari pushes open a door. Startled to see someone sitting there, she quickly finds composure. 

"There's no force on this stupid, godforsaken planet that's going to make me go down there." She practically snarled. He's pushing her, has been since the showdown between Octaiva and Bellamy and Echo in the square. He didn't appreciate her defensiveness over Echo anymore than she appreciated his turnover to grounder. One grounder was one thing- one grounder that hadn't had anything to do with the massacres they were served at the dropship camp and in the mountain. Nicklas had tied himself to all grounders including the ones that had systematically murdered their friends and those that had followed the woman who had abandoned them to the mountain. How could he forget that they were the enemy? Survival was one thing, sure- she wouldn't hold against him whatever he'd had to do to stay alive down in the hellscape that was the bunker but they weren't IN the bunker anymore. And yet still he clung to these people, this place. He retreated to the bunker like a fox into a den- like it was a safe place when it was anything but.

And he tried to force her either down with him or to separate from him. The Fox of the past would have followed him anywhere, trusted him anywhere even among the enemy. She'd have let naivety and love drag her anywhere no matter how unsafe it felt. She'd have cowered under his arm and against his side and faced the grounders undergound every day if it'd meant she'd get him in return. If the only cost was trust in him.