Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100
Warnings for gang violence, dubious morality and a pretty forced relationship that probably will lead to dubious consent
Inserted a character from Crimson MirrorGlass's Azgeda Chronicles. The kid's name in that is "Farron," right? I think that's his name.
You're safe now
Clarke Griffin eyed the men and women around her. She was absolutely sure that these people were gang members of some sort.
The thirty-year-old woman had been extremely hesitant to go with them, when they'd come by and killed the gang that had abducted her and her son, Farron.
Finn Collins, Clarke's husband, recently had been killed. He had gotten involved with the wrong people and for that, his wife and son were suffering.
After he was killed, the gang had come after Clarke and her boy, Farron, to get the money that they felt Finn owed them.
Apparently, they thought that Clarke would know where it was, and that threatening her son would get the answers faster.
What Clarke hadn't thought would happen, when she was placing herself between Farron and the gang members, acting as what she knew to be an ineffective shield, were the series of bullets that flew through the air and hit the many gang members, making them collapse easily to the ground, dead.
Clarke had hugged Farron close, not understanding, as people that she didn't recognize, came through the doors.
Men and women who escorted Clarke to a car and drove her and her son off.
These new gang members introduced themselves. They wished to protect her and her son from the gang that her deceased husband had made a deal with.
Clarke wasn't sure she believed that, but what choice did she have? When she had gone to the police, they had barely done anything.
So, these criminals who she had witnessed commit murder, were her best hope.
A very sad fact, yes, but that was what she was left with.
She didn't want to risk trusting them, not with her life, let alone with her son's life. But the police hadn't helped.
And the gangsters that had threatened her; Bellamy Blake, his sister, Octavia, Nathan Miller, Jasper Jordan, John Murphy, John Mbege, Raven Reyes, Dax Summers, Atom Worth and the rest of them? They were the worst. Clarke couldn't say for a moment that she wasn't happy that they were dead.
Bellamy especially.
He was vile.
He had even suggested that Murphy, Octavia, Dax, Atom and Mbege take turns forcing themselves on Clarke, to get information out of her.
Bellamy had also smirked and said that he wanted to, "see what Collins likes so much about you, little bitch."
The entitlement all over Bellamy's disgusting, absolutely ugly face, had honestly made Clarke sick.
The term, "only a face a mother could love," seemed to have made an exception with Bellamy, because honestly? Clarke couldn't understand how anyone, not even that creep, Bellamy's mother, could love his face.
And now he was dead.
Clarke couldn't say that she wasn't grateful or happy for that.
After his minions were all shot and killed, a satisfied Clarke had watched, shocked as a stunned and desperately pleading Bellamy, had been dragged to the part of the warehouse that had a buzzsaw on the table.
The five gangsters that had a hold of Bellamy, pinned him down over the table.
The four gangsters that held him down; Thor, Steve, Brunnhilde and Sylvie, had grinned, holding him there, as Frank had picked up the buzz saw and started it up as Bellamy began screaming and Frank began to slowly hack away bits and pieces, while Bellamy was still alive.
Clarke had held Farron to her, using her body to shield the boy's eyes and she had covered his ears as the buzzsaw worked and as Bellamy screamed and as the sounds of meat, bone and organs were sliced into.
Clarke wished she had been more horrified than she was when she witnessed that.
But she couldn't say she was.
She had enjoyed watching every moment of it.
The piece of dog shit that had ordered her husband dead, who had targeted her and Farron, and who would have had her raped and probably killed and probably would have done the same to her son, was dead. As were all of his lapdogs.
And Clarke, even if it wasn't a good thing, felt safer than she'd ever felt in a long, long time.
Now, sitting here, in this extremely extravagant, comfortable looking house, where these people had driven her and Farron to, with Farron sitting next to her, smiling, clearly feeling as safe as she did, Clarke knew that she would have to give in to whatever demands these people made of her.
Clarke slowly turned to the people before her.
They had introduced themselves to her during the trip here.
Thor, Steve, Peggy, Brunnhilde, Loki, Hela, Sylvie, Jessica, Frank, Bruce, Tony, Pepper, Elektra, Danny, Luke, Clint, Laura, Simone, Barney, Rhodey, Eddie, Stephen, Christine, Sam, Carol, Yelena, Natasha, Melina, Trish, Wanda, Pietro and Maria.
They had several servants; Dottie, Bucky, Gamora, Nebula, Peter, Kamala and many others.
They all were looking at her hopefully, softly.
Clarke asked the question that she couldn't help but ask, given that she and Farron were essentially at these peoples' mercy.
"Sorry, I'm grateful for what you've done, really," she said, shifting in her seat uneasily, "But what exactly do you all want in return for helping us?"
Clarke tried to feel not as uncomfortable as she did, when she saw the smirks she was met with.
Clarke did not like where this was going.
The group of gangsters, who stood before Clarke? Well, they had their reasons for what they had done.
They had met Finn Collins a few years back, when he had just turned eighteen, and had started doing unsavory business for Bellamy Blake. Now, Finn had been a thousand times more decent than Bellamy Blake-which wasn't saying much, since all you had to be was not be Bellamy Blake, to be a more decent person.
But unfortunately, he'd gotten involved with an unsavory crowd. Then he'd met this wonderful young woman, Clarke Griffin.
They had dated for almost two years, then married.
Finn did not judge Clarke at all, for keeping her last name and not taking his.
Clarke's father, Jake Griffin, Clarke had worshipped and to ask her to change her name, obviously was unthinkable to her. And Finn understood that. So, Clarke had kept her father's last name, "Griffin."
And a year later, they'd had Farron.
They had kept an eye on Finn, worried about him, but in doing so? They had seen Clarke and had seen what she was like.
They hadn't meant to all fall in love with her. They just had.
Everything about her, made them swoon, made them wish to be with her.
Ten years had gone by.
And no, they hadn't stood back and done nothing when Finn was attacked. They hadn't been able to save him, because they just hadn't been there at the time.
If they could have? They'd have saved him.
Finn, had been loved by Clarke, after all.
But after Finn was murdered by Bellamy's gang, they knew they had to do something.
Not just to protect Clarke and Farron from Bellamy, but when it came to financial problems.
Finn and Clarke hadn't been that bad off, but with Finn's death? It would put a strain on things.
This was where the gang members that had fallen for Clarke, would come in.
They would not demand that Clarke be with them. No, instead, they would prove what they could give her.
They would provide for her and for Farron.
Give them literally anything they could ever want.
Clarke could go ahead and wonder what it is that they wanted from her, but they would provide everything for her and for her child.
Provide all the money needed for Clarke to actually get a college education, make sure any medical thing she or Farron needed, would be paid for, provide all the food and water they needed, a place to stay.
They would not touch Clarke.
This would be a seduction. A long and complicated one, however, that was the plan.
Perhaps at first, Clarke would be disgusted by their advances, but they would do nothing except try to give her everything.
Her son as well. The boy would have nothing but the best education and upbringing imaginable.
One day, their plans would come to full fruition.
And this gentle goddess that they had fallen in love with completely and utterly, would one day be writhing under them with pleasure.
Clarke eyed them, but Farron spoke up quietly, eyeing them all with wonder, "Thank you for protecting us."
Pepper chuckled, smiling, "Oh, you are most welcome, young man. Don't worry, you're safe now. You and your mother both."
They watched as Clarke glanced with worry at her son, but she seemed less tense when she saw how calm Farron now was.
All of the gang members tried not to chuckle in satisfaction at this. All according to plan.