Heal My Heart

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: ariannabridges

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy was separated from the group, but this time, it was by choice. He had needed to create a diversion so that the others could get back to camp, and he was serving as what would draw them away. It made him race through the woods as fast as he could. They had come out to hunt, and the damn grounders were hunting them instead. Bellamy knew that this on going war with them wouldn't cease any time soon. There was too much of a clash. Too much animosity between the two groups of people. But right now, he wasn't focused on that.

He was focusing on running, evading the threat that wasn't too far behind him. But they were not so quick to give up. Bellamy felt something pierce his shoulder and the impact of it made him cringe in pain, and stumble to the side. As luck would have it, he'd been on a bit of a hill so wound up rolling down. The turns and bumps added to his already injured state, but nothing was throbbing as much as the arrow protruding from his shoulder.

He lay on his back at the bottom of the hill, groaning and grimacing in pain. He tried to move but he felt severely disoriented, darkness threatening to consume him but was fighting it off. He wasn't going to make it so easy for the grounders to finish him off, lying here uselessly. He could have sworn he even saw one approach. He tried to reach for his gun that wasn't there -- assuming he'd lost it in the fall -- and instead, just tried to make out the blurry image that was getting closer and closer.

[ariannabridges]

Ever since the Sky People had come crashing down to the ground in their dropship, Lincoln had been watching them closely along with the rest of the grounders. The other grounders saw them as a threat and wanted to take them all out, but Lincoln wasn't too sure what to do. He didn't know anything about these people or their motives and he didn't like the idea of slaughtering a bunch of innocent people who were unaware of what they were getting into. It seemed wrong, but there wasn't much he could do about it. For now, he just watched them. Always staying quiet and out of sight up in his usual perching spot in a tree just a few miles outside their village. The trees stood tall, allowing the grounders a perfect view of everyone and everything. It was quite the useful hunting technique that allowed them to keep eyes on their prey without their prey knowing it, not until it was too late. Of course, the forest was also rigged with all kinds of traps that only the grounders knew about. All of it felt so wrong, but this was the grounder way. They had been taught not to trust anybody. Survival. That one word drilled into their heads since day one. Kill or be killed. That was how the grounders survived down here all these years.


Sitting up in his usual tree, he watched their every move. Examining everything they did. Their behavior. They were all young. Just kids. All just trying to find a way to survive in this new, harsh world. One in particular caught his eye. Their leader. For some reason, the lone grounder just couldn't seem to keep his eyes off him. There was just something about the man that intrigued him. Clearly he was older than the rest of them and he had a dominance about him that inspired the others and made them listen to him. He was also quite the gorgeous man, Lincoln had to admit. Tall and muscular. He was strong. Could definitely hold his own in a fight. Short dark hair and dark eyes. There was a fight in him that he had to admire. The tanned male was intrigued by him. For what reason, he wasn't too sure about. There was just something about him that interested Lincoln. Curiosity. So much curiosity. It wasn't long before he picked up a name for the man. Bellamy. That was the name of the man that the lone grounder felt drawn too. He was able to pick up on a few other names as well. Clarke, Jasper, Murphy and another woman. Someone whom Bellamy seemed particularly protective towards. Octavia. It wasn't long before he figured out that she was his sister. There seemed to be a lot of animosity among the group and a whole lot of violence. These people could possibly be dangerous. Maybe it was best for the grounders to take them out before they became a threat to them.


A plan was quickly set into motion. One that involved taking them out one by one. It was late afternoon and a hunting party had been sent out to hunt for food. Little did they know, they were the ones being hunted. The grounders were lurking all around them, in the trees, bushes, everywhere. None of them would be getting out of this alive. Traps were scattered all around and as the group made their way further into the forest, the grounders laid in wait, moving swiftly and stealthily as they moved to box the group in so that no one would escape. The Sky People quickly realized that they had walked into a trap as the other grounders started to make their presence known. One of the grounders threw his spear and Lincoln watched as it flew through the air and hit one of the sky people in the chest with perfect accuracy, killing him. This caused a panic among the others as they took off running through the forest. Unfortunately, the grounders had them surrounded. There was nowhere for them to go and hidden traps lay everywhere, all of them deadly. They were all going to die. That fact was inevitable. As they took off running into the forest, his eyes were always on Bellamy. Watching silently as he moved as fast as he could through the vast forest around them. He quickly separated himself from the group, serving as a diversion in order to draw the grounders to him. As he ran, Lincoln wasn't far behind, moving quickly and quietly as he followed him. Making sure to keep out of sight of him as well as the rest of the grounders.


Then suddenly, something happened. He had been hit. The force of the impact as the arrow hit him, piercing through his shoulder blade had him falling. Falling down, down, down as he went tumbling down a steep ravine. Lincoln could do nothing but watch from afar as he went crashing down the hill fast and hard. Hitting rocks and twigs as he fell before finally coming to a stop at the bottom of the ravine. The grounders quickly took off, leaving him for dead as they went to finish off the rest of the hunting party, but Lincoln's focus was on the man laying at the bottom of the hill. Once he was certain the others had completely gone, he made his way over to the man slowly and cautiously. He was badly injured. Cuts and scrapes adorned his skin. His clothes dirty and torn. The man was quite a mess. His biggest concern though was his shoulder. The edge of the arrow protruding from his shoulder blade. Blood quickly started to seep from the wound. Moving ever closer, Lincoln looked down at him as he lay there. Dizzy and disoriented. He tried to move, but was unable to do so. Sensing his approach, the man reached around for what was no doubt a weapon, but it was gone. Approaching him, Lincoln regarded him with an emotionless expression. Looking at him and saying nothing. Instead, he crouched beside him, watching as he struggled to stay awake, but the darkness quickly consumed him and he fell back to the floor. Eyes slipped shut as he passed out.


Sighing softly, he slowly picked the man up into his arms and carried him away. Making his way back through the forest back towards his cave. He had no idea why he was even doing this. He should just leave him to die, but for some reason, he just couldn't do that. His compassionate side kicked in and his first instinct was to help him. To heal him. So, after carrying him back to his home, the grounder male carefully sat him down on the ground against the wall before proceeding to chain his wrists. Once he was securely bound, he moved away and made his way over to the collection of herbs that he always kept with him. Grabbing what he needed, he quickly mixed some of the herbs together, grinding them up with a rock in order to make a paste. Then, he made his way back over to him as the gorgeous male began to stir. Slowly waking from his short slumber. Lincoln made his way over to the man without a word, meeting his gaze as the man lifted his head to look up at him. Crouching beside him once more, large hands gripped onto the fabric of his shirt and ripped it open.



Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: ariannabridges

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Tellamy was trying to fight the darkness that kept threatening to consume him. But it was to no avail. The last thing he remembered was the Grounder reaching for him . . . and it almost felt like he was flying before he lost the battle, and slipped into an unconscious state. He wasn't sure how long he had been out before until he felt himself rejoin the conscious world. But it was a slow process. He started by moving his head a little, as if felt heavier than usual. He slowly opened his eyes, finding it was not difficult to adjust to due to the dim lighting.

But the unfamiliarity of his surrounding was what prompted him to jolt into an alert state. The sudden movement caused a pain to erupt through his body, and a slight clanging which caused his gaze to fall to the chains that bound him. The other presence in the . . . wherever the hell he was immediately captured him as he locked eyes on the man before him. No; the grounder before him. Bellamy struggled against the restraints but his strength was severely lacking.

Not that he was some sort of superman who could bust out of them. "Get the hell away from me!" He snapped, trying to turn his body away from the Grounder, noticing that his shirt was ripped open to expose his wound. What . . . what was he doing? Where was he? What was going on?! "Don't touch me!" He further demanded. Once his vision fully cleared, he took notice of the Grounder. There was something strangely . . . captivating about him. Something that Bellamy couldn't look away from, despite his attempt to glare the individual down.

Did he even speak English?! Bellamy hadn't the faintest idea but he knew that Grounders couldn't be trusted. And yet, he was alive. Why? Was he going to interrogate him? Torture him for information? Bellamy wanted to do something to make himself feel less at his mercy, but couldn't quite tear his gaze away even still. Locked onto him, fixated, simultaneously starting to pull at the chains in a useless attempt to free himself. "Let me go you bastard." He was angry of course, and still uncertain as to whether the Grounder comprehended English.

[ariannabridges]

Deja vu. That was exactly what this felt like as Lincoln stared down at the injured man lying at the bottom of the ravine. His mind flashed back in time to when he was a little boy when he had seen the dropship come down and had found an injured man laying beside the wreckage. That feeling of compassion and desire to help him kicking in. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to speak English back then. Still, he did everything he could to help the man, only to be forced to kill him in the end. His childhood was a sour subject to him, particularly that memory. He didn't like to talk about it. It still haunted him to this day. Lincoln was a killer. That was something he had accepted a long time ago. Healing made him feel a little bit better about it all, but it didn't change the fact that he was still a killer. Things were different now. He was older now, grown up, and he knew better than to go against the grounder ways. And yet, he just couldn't bring himself to kill this man. Why? He didn't know. For some reason, he felt very protective of the man and it was for this reason that he found himself picking the man up and carrying him back to his cave.


Once there, he bound the man's wrists securely so that he wouldn't be able to escape or do anything stupid. The Sky People didn't particularly like the Grounders much, which was understandable. From the moment they had landed on Earth, the grounders had declared war on them and they weren't going to stop until every last one of them was dead. This war had been going on for several weeks now, neither side backing down. Several casualties had been suffered on both sides. Lincoln didn't like all this violence and bloodshed. He'd much rather live in peace, but there was nothing that he could do to stop it all. Both sides seemed intent on fighting. Taking the other side out. He didn't like having to chain the other male up, but the last thing he needed was the man hurting himself further by fighting him or escaping and the other grounders finding him and finishing him off. So, after chaining his wrists to the rock wall, he gathered the herbs he needed and quickly whipped up a healing paste before slowly walking back over to him.


As the Skaikru leader slowly started to wake up, the male grounder watched as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, which were no doubt unfamiliar to him. A moment later, he jolted as he shifted to full alertness. His eyes quickly fell on the chains that bound him before letting his gaze drift over to Lincoln who had come to a stop in front of him. Both pairs of eyes locked on each other as they regarded one another. No words were spoken. Then, he started to struggle against the chains that held him, which had a sigh falling from the grounder's lips. This didn't faze him in the slightest, nor did his words as he snapped at him to get the hell away from him. Instead of listening to his words, big, strong hands clasped onto the fabric of the man's t-shirt and ripped it open. The fabric tore effortlessly beneath his hands, exposing the man's chest and stomach. As he was trying to remove the man's shirt completely in order to get better access to the wound, Bellamy tried to turn his body away from him in an effort to get away from him before further shouting at him to not touch him. For a moment, Lincoln contemplated speaking to him. To inform him that he only wanted to help, but quickly decided against it. He wasn't sure if he was ready to reveal the fact that he could speak English and understand him just yet. So, instead of speaking, he grabbed onto the lighter male's shoulders firmly, causing him to cringe from the pain and quickly took the opportunity to remove his shirt fully and toss it aside. Once again, their eyes met and once more and they simply looked at each other. Dark eyes bore into Bellamy's for a few lingering moments before darting downwards as he casually checked him out. Now that he was up close and personal, he was able to appreciate his beauty more fully. Even bruised, battered, and bloody, he was gorgeous. The embodiment of perfection in Lincoln's eyes. Never before had he seen such a beautiful human being. He was so very intrigued by him. What was it about him that captivated him so damn much? He was extremely good looking no doubt, but it seemed to be more than that. Sadly, he had no idea what it was exactly.


Despite being securely bound, he fought hard against the restraints that held him in an effort to get free. He was a fighter. No way was he going down without a fight. Lincoln liked that about him. At his next words, the grounder male simply looked at him. Not showing any sort of sign that he understood what he was saying or any indication that his words had affected him in the slightest, which they didn't. It would take a whole lot more than shouted words and insults to faze him. Even so, their eyes remained locked on each other and Lincoln quickly took the opportunity to reach his hands up and clasp both sides of the arrow, snapping it in two before pulling the shaft out completely. Once the arrow was out, he set the broken pieces aside before tearing his eyes away to grab a nearby rag and dip it into a bowl of water. Soaking the rag, he wrung it out with his hands before proceeding to press the wet rag against the wound, adding pressure in order to stop the bleeding. As he did this, his eyes once again wandered to the man in front of him. Hoping he would calm down now that he could see that the grounder only wanted to help him.



Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: ariannabridges

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The grounder didn't say a word. And yet, it somehow didn't unsettle Bellamy. It was becoming abundantly clear that the Grounder didn't understand English, yet there was something in his gaze. Something that only reinforced that impossibility to look away. Bellamy swallowed, jaw clenched for a moment as he stared back. There was . . . something. Something there that he couldn't define. Bellamy almost snapped out of it when the Grounder grabbed his shoulders, making Bellamy's expression twist in pain . . . but then had his shirt removed.

Was he going to torture him? Is that was this was?! Bellamy's instincts were telling him otherwise. Feeling that there was something, strangely and inexplicably calming about the Grounder before him. Bellamy hadn't come into contact with many of them, not this close anyway. He just knew they were violent . . . but everything screamed otherwise in this moment. Was it naive to believe that? Or should he trust his gut like he always did?The man's next actions were making the correct option more clear. He snapped the arrow in half, prompting Bellamy to let out a slight sound of pain, though it hurt like a bitch, echoing in the small confines of the cave.

He was in a cave. He hadn't even quite realized that, having grown distracted by the alluring Grounder. His next actions were more . . . tender, than Bellamy ever thought a Grounder was capable of. His eyes locked onto the man once more, watching him intently, feeling that strange pull toward him. Besides, looking at the man was a welcome distraction from the pain of his injury. Bellamy's tongue ran over his lips, trying to make sense of this situation. The man's touch was gentle, caring, hell there was a nurturing aspect to it that the slightly younger male had never felt before.

That, was what pulled Bellamy toward the Grounder. His aura, the air around him, the comfort that seemed to exude from him. He was very obviously attractive. His darker colored skin, the strength of his body, the well formed figure he possessed that was noticable even underneath his clothing. But it was his eyes that Bellamy saw something in, that kept his own gaze locked onto them. A strange desire to delve deeper into the emotion behind them. He finalyl broke the silence, still uncertain of the Grounder understood him but tried to keep it as simple as possible. "Why?" Why was he helping him? His voice was relatively more calm, less defiant . . . holding a strong tone of intrigue and curiosity. Why?