#╰ connection // clarke & bellamy. ╯

[feelingtheaster99]

Azula and Octavia and Lucia all have the same energy—younger sister of a main character big brother that goes a little mad-with-power as the series goes on and who has to learn to fight their own tendency towards bloodlust and violence

[delicatebluebirdruins]

i love you guys so much meme left is Mia and Ethan from Resident Evil and Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin from t100

[petertingle-yipyip]

I WISH I HATED YOU - BELLAMY BLAKE

//is this probably a hot mess and ooc? yes. but it’s also self indulgent so just enjoy new content okay 🤷‍♀️//

Pairing: Bellamy x Reader

Word Count: 1,617

Summary: After being arrested for speaking out, you get a chance to tell Bellamy basically everything on your mind.

After Bellamy and Clarke got everyone out of Mount Weather, you had stayed close with him. You went on runs with him, trained with him, and even helped him through the guilt of pulling the lever. You talked him through losing Gina.

Or at least you had thought you helped with it all.

When you saw him walk through the gates with Pike’s firing squad, your heart sank. You had just let yourself believe you cared about him, maybe even loved him. You sat by and watched him with Gina because him being happy seemed to be more important to you. And yet, there he was, covered in blood from an army that was supposed to protect your people.

Pike was in the middle of his speech about doing what needed to be done when you met Bellamy’s eyes.

Something in that look compelled you to speak up. You knew he wasn’t asking it of you but you felt you had to.

“We execute our own now?” You shouted, part of you hoping your voice would be buried in the crowd. But judging by the new expression Bellamy wore, you were heard loud and clear.

“What kind of Chancellor doesn’t let his people speak up?” You continued and a small group cleared out around you and you felt an imaginary spotlight on you. “I remember learning there used to be a right to free speech in the States.”

“There’s a difference between speaking your opinion and pushing propaganda, Y/N.” Pike answered and you didn’t miss the condescension in his words.

“What do you call what you’re doing?”

“Y/N.” Bellamy warned.

You hadn’t noticed he had gotten to your side.

“No.” You said firmly. “Trikru has become our allies.”

“Your ‘allies’ abandoned you in that mountain! They left you to die!”

“You’re no better!” You shouted. “You’re willing to kill us if we don’t agree with you! You just threatened all of us!”

A hand gripped your arm.

“None of you are in any danger from your own people.” He said with a disbelieving laugh. You took an angry step forward but were pulled back by the hand at your arm that you hadn’t connected to a person yet. “I am going to keep all of you safe.”

“You’re a murderer.” You said confidently. “You’ve turned the people who went with you out there-“ You looked towards the gate and realized it was Bellamy who had your arm. You didn’t look away from him. “-into murderers.”

“Don’t do this.” Bellamy said quietly, desperately almost.

“If you’re gonna do this…” You nodded towards your restricted limb. “I have to do this.”

You turned back to face Pike.

“Lincoln risked his life to help us at Mount Weather. Indra has fought by our side. The Commander has gone out of her way to welcome us into her coalition, to offer protection from the clans that hate us! Now-“ You tried to gesture but Bellamy kept your arm down. “Dammit, Blake.” You grumbled. “Now every clan wants us dead!”

“All the more reason for us to fight back!” Pike yelled.

“We wouldn’t need to fight if you hadn’t-“

“Enough!” Pike interrupted and you heard a small eruption of mumbles from the crowd. It seemed to you like some opinions were shifting. “Take her away.”

Bellamy pulled you slightly and grabbed your other arm. He locked both wrists in cuffs behind your back and led you to the detainment. You kept your head up, saying nothing as Bellamy practically dragged you down several hallways.

There were no guards posted so Bellamy released your cuffs when you were within the alleged cell but didn’t leave. He stood in the doorway instead while you sat on the lone bench. The set of his jaw, heavy sigh that moved his shoulders, and cross of his arms told you all you needed.

“You want to say something.” You spoke plainly. Any edge in your voice from before had softened.

Everything in you softened around Bellamy, even if he didn’t seem too much like your Bellamy anymore. If he ever was yours to begin with.

“Just say it, Bellamy.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. “I’m sure Pike doesn’t want you gone too long.”

“You think I’m doing the wrong thing.” He said lowly, as if he was still connecting the dots in his head. “You out me in this position today, Y/N. No one told you to start telling about treason and executions.”

“You and I both know that’s what he meant. Grounder or Arkadian, opposition goes down. Seemed pretty clear to me.”

“Pike wouldn’t kill his own people. What he’s willing to do, what I’m willing to do, is to protect our people.”

“By the way, I think Pike is wrong.” You corrected. “You… You’re lost right now. You’re trying to right what’s gone wrong but that won’t go away with more blood and bullets.”

“So we’re just supposed to let them continue to kill us?”

“It’s been months and it hasn’t been Trikru killing us if any have died… Azgeda hates us and that’s not gonna change but Trikru is Indra. It’s Lincoln. It’s Octa-“

“It is not Octavia.” He cut in firmly.

Your hands went in surrender and you didn’t push on that.

“Bellamy.” You stood and carefully moved closer to him. You made sure to keep your eyes on his and not on the Grounder blood splattered across his bulletproof. “I.. care about you, you know that. But what Pike’s doing, what you’ve done, has put all of us at risk. It’s an act of war. At the very least, tell me you understand that. If it was the other way around-”

“We’ve been at war since we got here. They picked us off, one by one, in the woods around the dropship. Remember that? Or how they put a spear through Jasper’s chest? Used Murphy to infect our camp? Stabbed Finn with a poisoned blade or, even better, when they executed Finn?”

“Yes, okay?” You abated quickly. “Yeah, you’re right. They’ve beat the shit out of us. But Finn also slaughtered a village with an automatic rifle. We blew up a bridge that led to however many deaths. We burnt an army a couple hundred strong to ash. But we’ve also made allies and had a chance at peace with the Commander.”

“The Commander that left us at Mount Weather, you mean? Who forced us to have to kill the purple who helped us? Who trusted me?”

“God, Bell, y’know what? I wish I hated you for what you’re doing. I- I wish it wasn’t true, what you were doing. I wish you treated me terribly and I wish I could treat you the same. Do you know how much easier it’d be if I could hate you? Especially after the massacre out there.”

“What?” His brows furrowed.

“But I don’t.” You shook your head. “Not yet. Jesus, maybe not ever. And that makes me feel so guilty. To want to hate you and to admit that I probably won’t. You could shoot me and I still would find a way to forgive you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We may have been fighting since we landed. I can admit that.” You continued ranting.

“Y/N, I-“

“No, you’re going to listen to me!”

He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and closed his mouth.

“That doesn’t mean we need to keep taking things further… You don’t have to like the Grounders, Bellamy. I don’t even think they’re all great, but the coalition was a chance at peace. It could finally end the war. You and me, we could…”

“You and me?” His eyes softened. “What do you…”

You laughed to yourself. “I thought it’d been obvious by now.” You shrugged. “Look, that’s not important right now. What is important is that you don’t go down a path you can’t come back from. I know you want to do what’s right and I know you want to protect us. I love you for that, but goddammit, I can’t lose you.“

“I’m trying to protect you.” He said, putting a hand on your cheek. “It’s always been about you… Well, you and Octavia.”

Despite yourself, you smiled and it brought a quick flash of a smile from him.

“You have such a good heart.” You said honestly, a much softer tone than just moments before. “Pike doesn’t get to take that from you if you don’t let him.”

“Y/N…” His hand moved and took hold of yours.

“You mean a lot to me. None of this has been easy on or for any of us. I know I’ve hardly slept a full night since we landed. And I know you think you have our best interests at heart, but I can promise you that Pike doesn’t have yours.”

“Do you?”

“I do… Since I met you.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, I’ll…”

“Let me outta here?” You tried with an innocent smile.

He laughed slightly and raised his brows.

“Maybe we can continue this conversation in one of our rooms… With a little more privacy.”

“I’ll hear you.” He corrected and you pouted slightly. “You’re gonna have to stay here for the day but I’ll talk to Pike, have you out by dinner.”

“Okay.” You nodded and stepped back.

Bellamy’s hand hit your hip and pulled you back to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something for a while.” He said with a smirk.

“Really?” You returned the playful tone. “How long is a while?”

His head tilted back and forth as he pretended to think.

“Since we met on the Ark.”

[bingbongsupremacy]

Protector

Pairing: John Murphy x Plus Size Reader

Warning: Cursing, reader insecurity, bullying reader about weigh, name calling

Summary: John saved you from some bullies, and now you feel like you owe him.

*Not Proof Read*

□□□□□□□□

The crash is chaos. My ears are still ringing from the impact, and the adrenaline surging through my veins makes every movement feel surreal. I stumble out of the drop ship, my knees shaking, my hands clutching onto the makeshift rail as if it’s the only thing tethering me to the ground.

When I finally make it outside, I’m overwhelmed by the blinding light and the sheer openness of it all. Earth. We’re actually on Earth. My thoughts spiral in a mix of awe and terror. The air smells different—fresh, but sharp, like it’s alive in a way the Ark never was. Around me, others are yelling, cheering, or arguing, the clamor of emotions colliding in the open field we’ve landed in.

That’s when I see him. John Murphy. He’s standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of irritation and disbelief. Our eyes lock for a fleeting moment. His gaze is sharp, piercing, like he’s sizing me up, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of everything: the way my clothes cling to me awkwardly, the extra weight I carry, and the heat flushing my face. But just as quickly as our eyes meet, he looks away, his lip curling into something that might be a smirk or a sneer—I can’t tell.

I swallow hard and move further into the clearing, trying to shake off the feeling his glance left behind.

The day blurs as we all begin to sort out our roles. Some people, like Clarke and Bellamy, take charge, organizing groups and barking orders. I find myself gravitating toward the quieter tasks: gathering supplies, making myself useful without drawing too much attention. The truth is, blending in feels safer.

But safety doesn’t last long here.

I’m crouched near the edge of the drop ship, sorting through a pile of scrap metal to find anything usable, when it happens. A group of guys—big, loud, and clearly looking for trouble—hover near me, their laughter sharp and mean. My heart sinks.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be looking for food instead?” one of them jeers, his voice dripping with mockery. “You look like you’ve already had your share, though.”

My hands freeze mid-reach, and the words hit like a punch to the gut. I don’t look up, hoping they’ll just get bored and leave, but they don’t. Another one adds, “Careful, we might not have enough supplies if she’s around.”

Laughter erupts, cruel and cutting. My throat tightens, and I force myself to keep breathing, keep focusing on the task in front of me. Don’t cry. Don’t give them the satisfaction.

Their voices grow louder, and I feel my face flush with a mix of anger and humiliation. I’m desperate to think of something, anything to say, but my mind is blank. Their words start to blur together, and I feel like I’m shrinking under the weight of their mockery. Why can’t they just leave me alone?

“Why don’t you guys just back off?” Murphy’s voice cuts through the taunts like a blade. My head snaps up, and there he is, standing a few feet away, arms crossed, his expression a mix of irritation and anger.

The guys turn to him, momentarily surprised, before their laughter resumes. “Aw, look at Murphy, defending porky,” one of them mocks. “Didn’t know you had a soft spot, John.”

“Say that again,” Murphy growls, his voice low and dangerous. There’s a tension in the air now, thick and heavy, and I’m torn between wanting to run and staying to see what happens.

One of the bullies steps closer to Murphy, clearly unfazed. “What, you got a thing for her or something?” he sneers, shoving Murphy’s shoulder.

It happens so fast I barely register it. Murphy’s fist connects with the guy’s face, and the sickening crunch of bone echoes in the air. The bully stumbles back, clutching his nose, blood streaming between his fingers.

“You son of a bitch!” one of the others shouts, lunging at Murphy. The fight erupts in a flurry of fists and shouts, chaos unfolding before my eyes. Murphy holds his own at first, his movements sharp and precise, but the others quickly gang up on him.

My heart races as I watch him take a hit to the side, then another to the stomach. He stumbles but doesn’t go down, his expression defiant even as blood drips from his split lip.

“John!” I shout, panic lacing my voice as I scramble to my feet. The sight of him, already bleeding but still fighting, twists something deep in my chest.

Just when it seems like the fight might spiral out of control, Bellamy’s voice booms from the other side of the clearing. “Cut it out! Now!” His men rush in, pulling Murphy and the others apart. Murphy’s lip is split, his knuckles bloodied, and he’s limping slightly as he steps back, but his glare is unwavering.

“Idiots,” Bellamy mutters, shoving the group apart before turning to address the camp. “We don’t have time for this crap. Get back to work.”

I approach Murphy cautiously as the crowd disperses, my heart still racing. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intend. He shrugs, wincing slightly.

“I’ve had worse,” he mutters, but there’s a spark in his eyes that makes my stomach flip. I motion for him to follow me, and he does, albeit reluctantly.

We settle near the edge of the clearing, away from prying eyes. I pull a cloth from my bag, dousing it with water from a nearby container, and carefully press it to his split lip. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmur, focusing on his injuries to avoid meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I did,” he replies, his tone softer than I expect. “I don’t like seeing pretty girls getting fucked with.”

The words catch me off guard, and I freeze, my cheeks burning. “Pretty?” I echo, barely above a whisper.

He smirks, despite the pain. “Don’t act so surprised.”

I bite my lip, trying to steady the butterflies in my stomach. “Well, you still didn’t have to. I… I would’ve been fine.”

“I wanted to,” he says simply, his eyes locking with mine. They’re softer now, but there’s still that fire, that edge that makes my chest ache in the strangest way.

Later that night, I find him limping back toward his tent. He’s clearly still sore, and I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. I rush to his side, steadying him without asking, and he doesn’t protest.

“Where are you staying?” he asks as we near his tent.

I hesitate. “I… I don’t know yet. I haven’t figured it out.”

He stops and looks at me, something unreadable in his expression. “If you want… you can stay here with me. At least for the night, until you find something better.”

I blink, caught off guard by the offer. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Come on.”

Inside, the tent is modest but functional. He pulls out a few extra tarps and blankets, and for a moment, I think he’s going to hand them to me. Instead, he moves to the side and builds a makeshift nest on the ground.

“You can stay on the bed,” he says, gesturing to a crude structure made of wood and tarp.

“But you… you’re hurt. You should take it,” I protest.

“I’m fine,” he insists, settling into his makeshift spot. “Just take the bed.”

Reluctantly, I do, but the guilt lingers. As I lie there, the space between us feels both too small and impossibly vast. My heart races as I glance at him, his silhouette illuminated faintly by the moonlight seeping through the tarp.

I’ll make this up to him, I think, the thought echoing in my mind as sleep pulls me under. Somehow, I’ll make this up to John Murphy.

----

The next morning, I wake before the sun has fully risen, the soft light filtering through the tent casting everything in a muted glow. My body aches slightly from the unfamiliar bed, but it's nothing compared to the guilt twisting in my stomach. Murphy’s breathing is steady, his figure barely moving in his nest of blankets. For a moment, I just watch him, my thoughts racing.

How do I repay someone like John Murphy? He’s not exactly the type to accept a thank-you note or some grand gesture. And yet, I can’t just let this go. He stood up for me. No one’s ever done that before.

I decide to start by making myself useful. By the time Murphy stirs, I’ve already gathered some extra supplies—scrap wood, pieces of metal, and anything else I could scavenge that might help fortify his tent. It’s not much, but it’s something.

“What are you doing?” his voice startles me as I crouch near the entrance, sorting through the pile of things I’ve collected.

I glance up to find him leaning against the makeshift doorframe, his hair tousled and his bruises more pronounced in the morning light. Despite everything, he still manages to look effortlessly confident, like he owns the space around him.

“I thought I could fix this place up a bit,” I mumble, gesturing to the tarp-covered structure. “You know, to say thanks.”

He snorts, limping over to me. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” I say quickly, standing to face him. “But I want to. You helped me… now let me help you.”

For a moment, he just looks at me, his eyes narrowing slightly like he’s trying to figure me out. Finally, he shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

I spend the day patching holes in the tarp, reinforcing the wooden frame, and even managing to scavenge enough materials to build a small windbreak on one side. Murphy mostly watches, occasionally tossing out sarcastic comments about my handiwork but never outright stopping me. Despite his gruff demeanor, I catch him glancing at me with something that almost looks like amusement—or approval.

That evening, as we sit by the small fire outside his tent, the tension between us feels different. Lighter, maybe.

“Not bad,” he says, nodding toward the newly fortified tent. “For a beginner.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Glad it meets your high standards.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Seriously, though. Thanks.”

I glance at him, surprised by the genuine note in his voice. “You’re welcome,” I say softly, my cheeks heating under his gaze.

The fire crackles between us, and for a moment, the world feels still. Safe. But then Murphy shifts, leaning closer, and the air grows heavy again.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’m not exactly… the easiest guy to be around.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” His smirk returns, and I add, “But you’re not as bad as you think you are.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him. “Careful. Keep talking like that, and I might start to believe you.”

Something about the way he says it makes my chest ache. I want to say more, to tell him that he’s more than he lets on, but the words catch in my throat. Instead, I settle for silence, letting the moment speak for itself.

Later that night, as we settle into the tent again, I catch him watching me from his spot on the ground. “You know,” he says, his voice casual, “you don’t have to keep trying to pay me back. We’re even.”

I shake my head, lying back on the makeshift bed. “We’re not even,” I say firmly. “Not yet.”

He smirks, rolling onto his side to face me. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” I reply, my heart skipping a beat as his gaze lingers on me.

As the silence stretches between us, I realize something: this—whatever is happening between me and John Murphy—isn’t simple. It’s complicated and messy and far from perfect. But as I close my eyes, the thought that echoes in my mind is clear.

I’m not done making this up to him. Not by a long shot.

-----

Here’s how the story could continue:

It’s been weeks since I first shared Murphy’s tent, and somehow, we’ve fallen into a routine. By now, the camp feels less chaotic, though tensions still run high. Murphy has wormed his way into Bellamy’s inner circle, his sharp tongue and quick fists earning him a reputation as someone not to mess with. Meanwhile, I’ve kept busy scavenging, helping around the camp, and doing my best to stay out of trouble.

Sharing the tent has become oddly… comfortable. Murphy’s sarcasm is as biting as ever, but I’ve started to notice a shift. He flirts now, subtle but deliberate, his words often laced with a teasing edge that leaves me flustered. Sometimes he touches me—just small things, like his hand brushing mine when he hands me something or his shoulder bumping against me as we sit by the fire. Each time, it sends a jolt through me, a warmth that lingers long after the moment has passed.

One evening, Murphy doesn’t meet me by the fire like he usually does. My stomach twists with unease as I make my way back to the tent, a small bundle of supplies in hand. When I step inside, I find him lying on the bed, pale and shivering despite the warm air.

“Murphy?” I set the supplies down, kneeling beside him. His eyes flicker open, glassy with fever, and he groans.

“Don’t feel so great,” he mutters, his voice hoarse.

I touch his forehead and immediately pull my hand back—it’s burning hot. Panic prickles at the edges of my mind. “You’re burning up. What did you eat?”

He grimaces, his head lolling to the side. “Some berries… thought they were fine.”

My heart sinks. I should’ve checked what he was eating.

“Stay here,” I say, though it’s clear he’s not going anywhere. I rush out to grab water, clean cloths, and anything else I can think of to help. When I return, he hasn’t moved, his breathing shallow and uneven.

I soak a cloth in the water and press it to his forehead, my hands trembling. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” I whisper, though my voice wavers with worry. “You scare off those guys like you’re invincible, but you can’t even tell which berries are safe to eat?”

He lets out a weak chuckle, his lips curving into a faint smirk despite his condition. “Can’t help it… I’m a badass.”

“Yeah, sure,” I mutter, but my chest tightens as I dab at his face, trying to cool him down. His eyes flutter open, and the way he looks at me—soft, vulnerable, and so unlike his usual sharpness—makes my heart skip.

“You’re pretty when you’re worried,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

I freeze, heat rushing to my face. “You’re delirious,” I say quickly, focusing on wringing out the cloth.

“Maybe,” he says, his smirk faint but present. “Still true.”

The night drags on, and I stay by his side, wiping his forehead, making him sip water when he can manage it. At some point, he reaches for my hand, his grip weak but steady, and I let him hold it, my heart thudding in my chest.

By morning, his fever finally breaks. He’s still pale and weak, but he manages a tired smile as I sit beside him, exhaustion weighing heavy on my shoulders.

“You took care of me,” he says, his voice rough but steadier than before.

“Someone had to,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“You don’t owe me anymore,” he says, his gaze locking with mine. “We’re even now.”

The words catch me off guard, and I falter. “What?”

“You patched me up,” he says simply. “You were there for me when I needed you just like I was there for you when you needed me.. You don’t have to feel guilty or try to make it up to me anymore.”

For a moment, I can’t speak. Then I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “Fine. We’re even.”

His smirk returns, stronger this time. “Good. Now I can ask you out without you thinking it’s some kind of debt repayment.”

My breath catches, and I stare at him, stunned. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, his smirk widening despite the faint flush creeping up his neck. “I like you. So, what do you say? Dinner by the fire tonight? I might even scavenge something decent.”

I blink, my heart pounding. “You’re impossible,” I mutter, but a smile tugs at my lips.

“Is that a yes?”

I bite my lip, unable to stop the warmth spreading through me. “Yeah. It’s a yes.”

His grin is worth every sleepless hour of the night before.

[rxreid]

opinions on the friends to lovers trope w bellamy blake💘

i think its like the perfect trope for him icl, aside from maybe enemies to lovers but enemies would last a few days maximum (if you were part of the 100), and then he'd probably befriend his partner (to be) after everyone realises the mutual enemies are the grounders blah blah blah...

in short, i love this trope, and personally i think bellamy would take years to confess to his friend. its so easy with meaningless hookups, or people he doesn't have a strong connection with, but he's a mess when it comes to his feelings for his best friend, and he'd stubbornly push back any lingering thoughts he gets around them.

if you want a lil bit of a deeper dive, more headcanons under the cut!

obviously bellamy is very protective of his friends, they're practically his family, but he'd probably start to notice a different feeling fluttering in his stomach when it came to the safety of that one person.

it would start out on hunts - at first he's pairing you with people he's sure you'll be safe around, until he doesn't feel comfortable with you hunting with anyone other than him. he's enough to protect you - he's your friend and he owes you that duty.

you'd tell him pairing up the two best hunters isn't a smart idea in the greater logic, and he'd respond with a remark about someone else in another pair actually being better than you, and he thinks the teams are perfectly even!

of course, he knows that's a lie. he also knows it would be smarter to pair you off with someone less skilled for teaching purposes - but why would he do that when he's the only one who values your company so much?

those hunts are the highlight of his days, he's sure of it. in amongst all of the bloodshed, the stress of leadership, the death, he knows he's always getting those few hours of downtime with you.

he opens up a little on those hunts, but he catches himself when he thinks he's oversharing, until you press him further and he just never shuts up again.

yapper. but only around this one friend! they're just a friend! (direct quote from bellamy to octavia, no debating.)

you'd probably accidentally hurt yourself on a hunt, tripping over a rock or something stupid, and he lectures you the entire way camp about the importance of sticking by his side. only when out in the forest, of course.

he'd realise his feelings are steering further and further away from friendship when you get caught up in mount weather as part of the 48, and all he can think about is you.

his companion, his confidant, the one person who now knows him almost as well as his sister does, in such a short amount of time, is gone, and he's waring with himself over the circumstance. he needs to get you back.

he's worrying about the others, sure, clarke...and jasper...and whoever else is in there. they're his people, but who is he without his person?

all is well and he gets you back, at a cost, but at least he has you. as much as part of him wants to confess, right then and there as he holds you and tells you he's got you, that you're safe in his arms, he doesn't.

bellamy blake is not one for feelings, no, absolutely not. he has meaningless hookups, and he treats the girls in camp like a merry-go-round. he's definitely not about to venture into the world of relationships. he doesn't want that...right?

OF COURSE HE WANTS IT HES JUST STUPID

anyway i don't wanna sit here and rewrite the entire plot BUT

i think he would take forever to say something, and obviously YOU aren't saying anything - probably oblivious as hell to his inner turmoil...(i would be too).

one thing leads to another, and you'd end up as part of the group on the ring in space, because bellamy would probably rather die than go without you. literally.

clarke makes you leave her behind, and you'd race back to the group, where bellamy is losing his shit trying to make sure raven stays on the ground long enough for you and clarke to get back.

when he sees you, he'd feel everything falling back into place, and he's silently thanking whoever's in control of fate that he doesn't have to spend five years without the comfort of your presence. he doesn't think he'd survive without at least you or his sister.

he'd reach for your hand as you buckle in, disguising it as a gesture of reassurance for your anxiety, but the way he'd squeeze just twice and keep his gentle gaze firmly on you as you ascend into space betrays that.

but you're still just friends, of course. duh!

i think it would literally take 5 out of the 6 years up there for him to even entertain saying something. he convinces himself that you see him as nothing more than a friend. you're affectionate and talkative with all of your friends...he's not special.

it's not like you'd both spent the last five years sitting in front of the large windows at god knows what time, staring out at the earth and sharing your fantasies of a life down there again.

he talks of having a family, a big dog - maybe - if any are left. he doesn't tell you how you plague his visions of a future. he shouldn't. he'd think it's too late now, anyway. you've been best friends too long. he can't ruin that.

until he can't take it anymore.

and only because murphy got annoyed and called him a coward or something for being stuck with you for years and still doing nothing.

thank you murphy!

he doesn't ever want to prove murphy right, so now he's ready to spill!

he probably doesn't even spill lets be real he probably just stares at you and then kisses you idk

but lord does he kiss you. he goes until he physically can't breathe anymore, and even then he only takes a split second to inhale and glance over your face before he's leaning back in, claiming your mouth with his own.

because now, and forever, he's yours. he knows he always has been, he knows he never would have been able to settle into life with anyone who wasn't you.

anyway the part of the friends to lovers trope when they actually become lovers always stumps me...........sorry the build up is too fun

but FINALLY! after a total of like...6-7 years of yearning, he did it. he got it!

and y'know, there's not much to do in space - but there is definitely a bed.

sorry last few hcs are a lil rushed but i really never know what to say when they actually become lovers...so anticlimactic...

[curtsies-from-princess-ashlyn]

I cannot for the life of me understand why the writers are still dragging the Claire storyline out. If we, the audience, are supposed to feel as anguished as Carmy is over losing her, I think the writers really failed. I really didn't see that their connection was so deep that Carmy would be this distressed over their breakup - even if it was due to something insensitive he may have said. Having multiple characters continue to push him to rectify his relationship with Claire feels so forced, as well. If their relationship was something that I truly believed could be lasting, then I could probably connect to that emotional tension, but I had thought the entire purpose of his S2 storyline was that a step towards Claire was a step away from fulfilling his responsibilities to Sydney and their restaurant. His relationship with Claire was in direct conflict with his relationship with Syd, and he continually let her down until he finally realized he was letting himself be pulled in two different directions. His making amends with Claire should've been finished in the first few episodes - she's not a main character (she's not even a character who's developed outside of Carmy's POV), and I'm pretty sure she had more screentime than Marcus. These writers cannot write a manic pixie dream girl and expect audiences to actually believe in the strength of her relationship with the lead so much that they root for them. (I also still don't understand how Claire is supposed to have all this free time when she's a hospital resident)

If the goal was to sow this division between Sydney and Carmy, which will force them both to seriously examine their relationship next season, I get it and that can be fine. That's also sort of what happened in S2 already, but they can still further develop that idea in a meaningful way. I'm gonna be honest, I'm here for the writers to pair up Sydney and Luca for a time as a plot device ship. They have excellent chemistry, and I would love to see Sydney exploring a new relationship until Carmy figures his stuff out. It can be reinforce the strength and importance of Sydcarmy's relationship to each other.

Just to warn you all, though, Sydcarmy could either be headed the Rina route (Ricky and Gina from HSMTMTS) with a planned slowburn executed beautifully, or this could end up being a Bellarke situation (Bellamy and Clarke from The 100) where the writers have a vendetta against the romantic pairing, despite obvious romantic undertones. Whichever one happens is anyone's guess, at this point

[bellamyblake]

following the tags on one of the gifs you reblogged again-why do you think Bellamy was so easy to forgive as a whole?

Hm, I think that's really connected to the core of who he became the moment Octavia was born. This was really barely touched on in the show but the truth is that Bellamy wears a lot of guilt in his life for being the first born. After Octavia came in, the only thing he wanted was and I believe this firmly, for him to be able to switch their places.

His inability to do that was what made him a good, loving caring brother (father) and explained his further actions even on earth, despite people's arguments on it. (yes, as every parent sometimes he went too far in protecting her but ...okay another subject here).

So he placed a lot of guilt on himself for her not being first, he says this in the conversation with Roan during the fight in polis in s4. I think that his mom put one burden on him and she did that when she put a baby in his arms and told him she was his responsibility, then made him name her as if he was the parent.

And the second burden he put on his shoulders himself and that was this idea that he surely had in his head that if he was just never even born, Octavia would've had the life she deserved.

We hear her say in 1x06 to her mom 'Sometimes I wish I was never even born' because she had to go in a hole in the floor and disappear as if she never existed in the first place and that, I am sure was Bellamy's wish the whole time-for him to disappear, for him to be in that hole, for him to be the one who had a worse cards dealt in this life.

But he wasn't and that is what drove him to give her the best life possible and what also drove him to do anything, absolutely anything to protect her, no matter the cost, that is seen in s1 when he shoots Jaha. He'll be a killer, though he doesn't want to be, he'll be the worst man on earth (when they come down) if it means keeping her safe. Keeping them both safe as a family, together. The only reason he keeps on living all this time, isn't for himself, it's for her, so he could keep an eye on her even when she hated him the most (s3, s4).

Bellamy and I had said this many times, doesn't live for himself at all, he lives for his sister. It may appear selfish to people that he does it just to protect her even when she can protect herself already but he knows nothing else and it is also what his mom showed him-Blakes don't give up, they don't back out of the fight. Aurora was the prime example of this-I'll have a second child and keep her alive even if may kill me and it will kill me. Bellamy saw that and followed into that, the whole time just conitnuing his mother's legacy that wasn't his to continue.

So in short, a person who doesn't value his own life, who lives for others and who has THAT guilt hanging over his head the whole time, is easy to brush over what people do to him. He forgives because he doesn't care much about himself-someone points a gun at him (Clarke in season 4), he is angry, he's sad but he takes it, he forgives it, someone betrays him, someone hurts him, someone leaves him (Clarke in 2x16) and yes, he's angry but he takes it, he will always take it, he will always forgive because

how can you care about what people do to you when you don't value your own life? You don't. It's simple as that.

[midlandslady]

Writers and audience impact

I hate hate hate when the writers/ producers/ directors wait for the audience's reaction to see if they should push a pairing in or not.

Like wtf? By the time they get our reaction, we have already been fed a story. And some of us will have loved it and others hated it but it was the story they created. Changing the pairing later based on the fandoms is so f* stupid.

I have stopped watching countless of tv shows because of this.

Examples: Vampire diaries. I really liked it at that time of my life. And I liked Stefan and Elena. They were a bit too lovey-dovey and boring? Yes, but I liked them. The story was about them. The books too. But because Damon was more handsome and sexier and had, according to the audience, better chemistry with Elena, they decided to give what the audience preferred, going against the original book.

The 100 is an odd example. Everyone loved Bellamy and Clarke, they are also the romantic pairing in the book. But the tv show created such a deep profound connection between them that was better than the book. It was an enemies-to-lovers trope developed to perfection. But what did they do? They destroyed it in what seems to be a clear defiance of what the public loved and the book. It made no sense at all. I stopped watching when I realized it was going in that direction and decided to wait for the finale. And I'm so glad I did. Horrible thing. I hate even the memory of having loved it.

Another example. Never have I ever. Yes, Paxton was the hot boy that we should begin to hate at some point in a very cliché fashion. And Ben is the rival that will become a friend and then a lover. All good. But then they developed Paxton and Paxton was ten thousand times better than Ben. And by the end of season 1 and particularly season 2, I was sure Team Paxton had won. But I was wrong. There comes the shift. For 2 seasons I loved Devi and Paxton but then all that development and fairytale-like ending is put into the garbage and I am supposed to pretend it never happened because now the main pairing is Ben and Devi. I did not watch season 3 and season 4. To me, it ended in season 2 and what an amazing ending it was.

So yes, I was afraid that House of the Dragon would be the same. They created a story between Daemon and Rhaenyra in season 2 that was special and magical in a very hauntingly gothic fashion. It was perfection, the chemistry, the between-the-lines feelings, the desire, the attraction, the frustration. My god, we could feel it all. And every episode was so exciting because of that. People loved it, not everyone, but most people loved it. People were in love with Daemyra and with Daemon and with Matt Smith. There were hundreds of videos on youtube, pages on the internet talking about it, it was everywhere. It couldn't have been more successful. But the writers somehow, despite creating such a beautiful thing, were surprised that the public loved it so much. So they came out saying: you're seeing it wrong. Daemon is mean, evil, selfish and cruel and you need to see that. So they create a season 2 to make us hate daemon, to make us fall out of love with Daemyra. Yet they were fearful of pushing it too far so they still gave us a happy ending to keep us satisfied. But are they waiting to see if we have given up on Daemyra and would be more open to other pairings that they wish to introduce? I want to believe they won't do it, but do I trust it 100%? Of course not. Similarly, they are giving contrary information about Helaemond to see how we react and if they can push it or move away from it in season 3. I also think they didn't make Rhaena claim sheepstealer to see how fans would react to the potential elimination of Nettles. And I hate that they do it! Just be consistent, for god's sake! Write the damn story as you did before knowing how the public would react but be consistent with what you started.

[honestlydarkprincess]

writing patterns

tagged by @wikiangela !!

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shootin' stars

When Buck had agreed to change flights because of overbooking, he hadn’t been told that the flight they wanted him to switch to wasn’t for another four hours. He was exhausted. He had already waited for his connection and now he had to wait even longer? By the time he boards the new flight its with a scowl and bloodshot eyes. He had spent his four hour wait sipping shitty coffee, draining the battery on his phone, and fighting a migraine.

that should have been plan A

Jake knew he was running late, that he was supposed to have met the other Daggers about thirty minutes ago, but he had had a bit of a fashion emergency.

this is gonna get long so to save ur dash i'll be the rest under the cut!

don't let go

“Well, that was a fucking exhausting shift,” Buck groaned, following Eddie into the Diaz house.

you chase away the pain

Gwen hummed to herself as she walked to her lady’s chambers, a pep in her step that was always there when she was about to see Morgana. Her crush was a doomed one, there was no way that Morgana would ever feel the same way towards her, but she couldn’t help it. Morgana was beautiful, strong, and kind. Who wouldn’t fall for her?

i only want you

Clarke had known it was a stupid idea to go to the party. She didn’t want to go to a party in the first place but Finn had insisted and Clarke had given in, desperate to try and make things work with him. She didn’t like him all that much but at least he was a distraction from her soul crushing crush on Bellamy Blake, her best friend’s older brother. Bellamy was a few years older than them and lived off campus while Clarke shared a dorm with Octavia, his sister.

think pawsitive

“Maddie, you don’t understand, he’s being weird,” Buck whined, throwing up his arms as he paced in front of the TV. He turned towards his sister and raised a brow. “Are you even listening to me?”

a gift i've never gotten before

Buck was nervous.

until you're feline better

“Alright, Ember, what do you think?” Buck asked, turning around and facing the kitten— who was starting to outgrow the title of kitten— that was perched on his bed, watching him intently. Buck was getting ready for a date with Tommy— it was their six month anniversary and Tommy said that he wanted to take Buck someplace special so Buck had gotten dressed up.

and it was purrfect

Buck was exhausted.

you gotta be kitten me

A few weeks after Tommy had turned his world upside down— in the very best way, of course— Buck was walking with him after a lovely dinner and trying to work up the courage to grab his hand. They walked side by side, shoulders brushing, and Buck was very aware that Tommy was right there, that he could just reach out and grab his hand and there was nothing stopping him. He could hold his boyfriend’s hand if he wanted to. That never failed to make him smile— he had a boyfriend now. They hadn’t talked about labels yet but internally Buck had started to think of Tommy as his boyfriend. He just hadn’t gotten the courage yet to ask him. First he’d work on holding his hand, then he’d ask about having the boyfriend talk.

wow okay the pattern is that i like a long ass intro

n ee way

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @lonelychicago, @monsterrae1, @watchyourbuck

@father-salmon, @underwaterninja13, @devirnis, @itdoesntrhyme, @insecuregodcomplex

@thiamsxbitch, @remembertheskittles, @maygrantgf, @beyourownanchor6, @exhuastedpigeon

[reallygroovyninja]

Backstage was buzzing with energy, the air thick with the mix of sweat, alcohol, and post-show euphoria. Clarke leaned against a food table, a bottle of tequila in hand, her leather jacket hanging off her shoulders as she took a long, slow drink. Around her, Bellamy and Finn were celebrating hard, already surrounded by a few fans they had picked to come backstage, their intentions clear. 

Finn had his arm slung casually around the waist of a woman who looked like she had been front row, her wide eyes still reflecting the excitement of the night. Bellamy was deep in conversation with two others, a smirk on his face, already halfway through a drink of his own. They all knew how the night would likely end—with them taking these fans back to their rooms for more than just casual conversation. 

Clarke watched the scene with a lazy grin, her body still buzzing from the adrenaline of the performance, but her mind already elsewhere. The music, the crowd, the lights—it had all faded. Her focus now was on the blonde she’d been eyeing during the entire show. Every time she locked eyes with her, Clarke could feel the spark. Now, she just wanted to finish this drink and get out of here. 

Octavia approached, weaving her way through the crowd of fans and bandmates, stopping in front of Clarke with her usual easy confidence. “Well, good news,” she started with a smirk. “Blonde’s gonna be at the hotel, waiting.” 

Clarke’s grin widened, the anticipation creeping through her. She took another swig from the tequila bottle and wiped her mouth, the alcohol doing nothing to calm the growing heat in her body. “Good,” she muttered, rolling her neck. “I’m ready to get out of here. I’m horny as hell.” 

Octavia chuckled, crossing her arms as she watched Clarke with amusement. “Yeah, you looked like it. You couldn’t take your eyes off her the whole night.” 

Clarke shrugged, unabashed. “What can I say? Girl’s got a vibe.” She tipped the bottle in Octavia’s direction. “The rest of you enjoy the party. I’ve got better things waiting for me at the hotel.” 

Octavia nodded, her eyes briefly flicking toward Bellamy and Finn, who were well on their way to making their own connections with the fans lingering nearby. “Don’t worry, we’ll hold down the fort here. You go do what you do.” 

Clarke tossed the now-empty bottle on a nearby table and pulled her jacket up. “Tell the driver to get ready,” she said, already turning to head for the door. “I’m not wasting any more time.” 

As she left the room, Octavia called after her, “Don’t break her too fast, Clarke. You know how you get.” 

Clarke threw a smirk over her shoulder without stopping. “No promises.” 

With that, she was out the door, ready to put the night’s performance behind her and focus on what, or who, was waiting for her at the hotel. 

[she-who-the-river-could-not-hold]

scrosciare [a bellarke ficlet]

scrosciare - the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs [from this prompt list] Clarke-centric, implied Bellarke | setting: season 3 inspired canon divergent, if the plot had simply been a survival story and Arkadia was a settlement just like the others | wc: ~900

The water churning below the cliffs echoed the anxiety that’d taken deep root in Clarke’s body. Crashing violently, upheaving, tumultuous. It was life on Earth personified in her and expressed in the waves below. She watched it in a daze. Hypnotized by the swirling, angry blue below. When Octavia had said the color of it reminded her of Clarke’s eyes, it hadn’t quite felt like a compliment.

She had to keep telling herself that they were doing the right thing, that Floukru coming to help them was not the destined disaster that Luna so clearly believed it to be.

Maybe she was right.

But the war against Azgeda was impending and Arkadia, while comfortably established as a settlement on the ground now, wasn’t prepared to fight. Trikru was of assistance but they needed more. Reluctant or not, the numbers spoke for themselves and alliances had to be made, no matter the feelings on either side.

A spray of saltwater speckled Clarke’s face as one of the bigger waves crashed against the wall of rock below. As much as she missed the woods surrounding Arkadia, the trees she’d come to covet, she couldn’t deny the pull of the ocean. The ground had always been a mystery, but water was something else entirely. Rain had been startling but welcome. Lakes and rivers a source of resources. But the ocean––she’d never imagined something like this. Angry, powerful. A source all of its own. How Luna and her people had come to connect with it baffled her; it left her intimidated if she was honest. Clarke had felt a lot of fear since reaching the ground, but this seemingly bottomless body of water was unsettling in ways she struggled to describe.

“Don’t fall in,” voiced someone behind her. Teasing, but not.

“I won’t,” she answered Bellamy, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth despite it all.

He carefully emerged into the corner of her vision and she took the moment to steal a long glance at him. The dampness of the air had flattened his curls down, though they fought valiantly to return to form. Despite his good-hearted warning, she couldn’t miss the grimness etched into the squint of his gaze. The firmness of his jaw, clenched in that sort of way it had been for a while. A detail she never missed. Impending war did that to people. Especially the more his status eclipsed those previously in the command in the armies and his sister continued to pull away.

“Well, you’re standing pretty damn close to the edge. Can’t blame a guy for getting nervous,” he said, eyes finally flicking to her. Catching her in the act of staring.

Clarke quickly looked away. “I imagine some people wouldn’t mind.”

Biting anger, lashing against nothing. Maybe she was the ocean. Did that make Bellamy her rock, her cliff that she raged against?

“Hey,” he said quietly, startling her as he carefully reached out and touched her. He’d been doing that more since he’d admitted his anger to her. Since she’d initiated a hug that still lived in her skin. Maybe he was the waves, leaving imprints behind and shaping her forever. 

“We’re going to get through this. Together,” Bellamy continued. “And we––” (here a deep breath) “––I would definitely mind if you fell in. If you want to see the ocean more, we can come back some day after all of this. Maybe one day there will be trade routes and someone will have to keep relations good between everyone. Maybe there will be towns here again, like it used to be back before the bombs. We can come back then and actually explore it all, but in order for that to happen that means you’re not allowed to fall, or jump, into the ocean.”

It was an image of a future that made tears prick at her eyes. Would she see the ocean differently if they were no longer at war? Could it instead be a source of respite, villages dotting the horizon and people walking alongside the ocean? 

Could it be her and Bellamy… guns and strategy left behind alongside the weight of humanity?

It took a few hurried blinking away of tears to realize that he had gently pulled her further away from the cliff's edge, only then registering that she really had been standing frighteningly close to the soaring cliffside and ocean below.

Bellamy’s hand was warm against her arm, his solid presence a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d needed so soon already. Not long had passed since their recent embrace before going to meet Luna, but she feared she was craving more than before. She’d been introduced to his touch, as well as the ocean in a short span of time. And like the rocks below, knew she’d be forever changed by it.   

“Thank you,” Clarke said quietly, quickly wiping at her eyes as she turned to face Bellamy. When he looked at her curiously, she gave him her own watery smile. “For forgiving me. For all of it, really. I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“You needed it, it’s yours. I’ll always give that to you,” he answered, voice rough yet soft. 

They fell into amiable silence, a quiet filled with promise. His hand still lingering on her arm as they turned to both gaze out at the crashing waves, filling the quiet with the suddenly comforting, repetitive churn of the water below. 

Being like the ocean didn’t have to be a bad thing. They’d simply need its resolve so that one day their futures could intertwine again.

[hd-junglebook]

Edge of Exile

Part 5

It had been two days since the massacre at Lincolns village. You, Clarke and Bellamy were outside of the Ark discussing the plan to get the 48 out of Mount Weather.

“Ok tell me again,” Bellamy said, staring intently at the rough map Clarke had stolen from Mt. Weather.

Clarke reached above the map, her voice steady as she explained once more, “It's a Labyrinth, we got to the dam through this tunnel," her finger traced the winding route on the map. “It's all connected to the mine system, that's our way in.”

You sighed, only half listening as you raised the shot glass to your nose, sniffing the weird beverage before shrugging and throwing it back.

Regret filled your body immediately as the clear liquid sent fire through your chest, making you shudder violently.

"This is vile! What's in this, battery acid?" you choked out, the taste still lingering on your tongue. Clarke and Bellamy just laughed at your disgusted expression, their laughter a welcome respite from the tension that surrounded you.

Clarke resumed her explanation, tracing the winding routes on her map, "Once we get into the mines, there should be access tunnels leading up into the mountain facility. We find those, we find our people."

But before you could delve further into the plan, two figures emerged from the trees, their approach interrupting your conversation. Finn, flanked closely by Murphy, made their way towards the group,

You took this as your chance to step away from the table, the spirits hitting you a lot harder than you expected.

Raven was walking out of the Ark; you had not spoken to her since leaving to find Finn. You approached her unsteadily, bringing over the glass of moonshine.

"Hey," you said softly, holding out the glass of moonshine to Raven like a peace offering. Raven accepts it with a wry grin, a hint of amusement glinting in her eyes.

 "Trying to get me drunk, huh? I'm wise to your tricks," she teased, taking a sip and falling into step beside you as you made your way back inside the radio room.

You shrugged nonchalantly,

"So, what’s up with you and Bellamy? Anything going on there?" she asked lightly, her tone teasing yet probing.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, a blush betraying your attempt at nonchalance. "What? No, nothing is..." you stammered, your words trailing off as Raven's knowing smirk cut through your feeble denial.

She smirks knowingly. "Uh huh. Just be careful, alright? Bellamy seems like the love 'em and leave 'em type,” she warned.  

Before you could even respond, Clarke entered the room, her troubled expression drawing your attention away from the conversation.

Raven's demeanor shifted seamlessly as she changed the subject, explaining to Clarke the issue with the signal being jammed by Mount Weather. You listened intently, grateful for the distraction from the awkwardness of the previous conversation.

But Raven's words continued to echo in your mind, her warning about Bellamy leaving you unsettled. Maybe she saw something you didn't about the recent closeness between you and Bellamy.

As Raven delved into the technical details of the jammed signal, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to her warning than met the eye.

“I tweaked the resonator and got this. Long range communication is totally screwed. It's the same reason the range our walkies suck. It's the same signal Monty heard in the black box of the Exodus ship,” Raven explained.

Clarke's voice cut through the tension, her words heavy with realization. "Mount Weather crashed the Exodus ship. Can you get around the signal?"

You and Clarke moved around the table, joining Raven's side as Abby entered the room. You rolled your eyes in frustration as Abby dismissed the urgency of the situation, her stubbornness grating against your nerves.

"You don't understand, Raven found something," Clarke interjected, her voice tinged with frustration. "Mount Weather is jamming our communications."

Abby folded her arms, her expression hardened. "It's too risky. We have no idea what's out there. You'll be walking into a deathtrap."

Clarke tried reasoning with her mom. "We've survived on the ground this long. We can't just abandon the rest of our people in Mount Weather."

But Abby refused to budge her resolve unyielding, "My priority is keeping you all safe, even if that means staying put. I'm still Chancellor here."

A heavy silence settled over the room, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Before Clarke could respond, Abby spoke again, her voice tinged with resignation. "You're not gonna stop, are you?"

You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself at Abby's frustration, her determination only fueling your resolve. "I'm coming with you," she declared, striding out of the room before Clarke could protest.

…

As the group prepared to embark on their mission, you quickly retrieved a gun from Major Byrne, sliding it into your bag with practiced ease before joining Abby, Clarke, and Raven.

The hike up the mountain was not overly challenging, the cool breeze providing a welcome relief as it tousled your hair and spurred you all forward at a steady pace. You marveled at the breathtaking scenery unfolding around you, the rugged beauty of the wilderness.

Octavia and Bellamy motioned for you to fall back, their expressions grave as they urged you to walk slower, ensuring that the three girls remained out of earshot.

 “We need to find another way in,” Bellamy muttered in a low voice, his eyes flicking warily towards Clarke up ahead. Despite her determination to stick to the plan, you couldn't shake the feeling that Bellamy was onto something.

You nodded, glancing warily at Clarke up ahead. She was too focused on sticking to the plan, but you knew Bellamy was onto something.

Agreeing silently, the three of you veered off in the opposite direction, putting distance between yourselves and the main group. Yet, just as you began to gain some ground, Sergeant Scott's voice cut through the air behind you, shattering the fragile illusion of secrecy.

You dropped your head in disbelief.

“Don't make us do this the hard way. Let's go right now!” Scott barked, his tone laced with urgency and impatience.

Bellamy’s expression twisted in annoyance as he squared off against Scott. "Come on, Scott, 48 of our people are prisoners in this mountain," he retorted, his voice tinged with frustration.

Seargent Scott was quick to respond, still pointing his gun at Bellamy. “That's why we're here.”

Before you could react, the forest around you erupted into chaos, beetles and other critters scuttling frantically across the forest floor, trees swaying ominously in the growing wind.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched in horror as a cloud of acidic fog rolled towards the group, a deadly threat looming on the horizon.

Locking eyes with Bellamy, you felt a surge of adrenaline course through your veins as he seized Octavia's arm and you shouted at the guards to follow you.

With a sense of urgency driving you forward, you raced towards the bugs, their panicked flight guiding you towards safety.

Octavia's voice cut through the chaos, her eyes alight with excitement as she pointed towards a dark opening halfway up the mountain face.

"There! See that cave?” She pointed to a dark opening halfway up the mountain face. “Could lead to a tunnel inside," she exclaimed, her words echoing with possibility.

As the guards behind you struggled to keep pace, their panting and sweating a testament to their uncertainty, you couldn't help but marvel at Octavia's resourcefulness. With determination coursing through your veins as you pressed on.

You continued cautiously along the trail, the anticipation mounting with each step until it finally led you to a heavy metal door.

Bellamy wasted no time in attempting to open it, but his efforts were met with resistance as the handle remained stubbornly locked in place.

“Locked. Stand back,” he announced, his voice a low growl of determination.

Stepping away from the door, he braced himself before hurling his shoulder against it with all his might, two guards joining him in the effort. With a screech of rusty hinges, the door finally gave way, swinging open to reveal the darkness beyond.

Each one of you took turns jumping through the doorway, a sense of urgency driving you forward as you sought refuge from the encroaching danger. Sergeant Scott's partner was second to last, his movements frantic as he scrambled through the opening, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Hurry up! Get inside!" you yelled to the guard who lagged behind, your voice echoing off the walls of the tunnel.

 Panic surged through you as you watched him hesitate, the acidic fog creeping closer with each passing second. You took a step forward, instinct urging you to flee from the encroaching danger.

But before you could make your escape, Octavia's firm grip on your arm pulled you back, her voice cutting through the chaos.

"It's too late y/n! We have to leave him" she shouted, her urgency snapping you back to reality.

Before he could successfully make it in, the acid fog swept in from behind him with terrifying speed, its voracious hunger consuming the third guard whole before the door could be closed. With a sickening thud, the heavy metal door slammed shut, cutting off the chilling screams that echoed from the other side.

…

The five of you stood in the dim light of the tunnel, the weight of the sacrifice hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows. With a silent prayer for the fallen guard, you steeled yourself.

Bellamy's gaze lingered on you, his expression a mixture of concern and determination. Stepping closer, he reached out to gently grasp your hands, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, delving deep as if seeking reassurance that you were indeed unharmed.

You offered him a small, shaky smile, grateful for his concern even as your heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze. "I'm fine," you replied, though the weight of the recent events hung heavy in your chest.

Bellamy's hands lingered for a moment longer, his touch gentle as he checked for any signs of injury.

His fingers traced over your skin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you met his gaze with unwavering determination.

With a nod of reassurance, Bellamy released your hands, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he turned to lead the way into the darkness of the tunnel.

You clicked on a flashlight, its feeble beam pierced through the thick darkness of the cramped, musty space. The light danced off the damp walls, casting eerie shadows that seemed to flicker and shift with every movement.

You ventured deeper into the garage, the air heavy with the musty scent of decay and neglect. The rows of abandoned vehicles loomed around you like silent sentinels, their rusted frames casting long, menacing shadows in the dim light.

"Where are we?" Sergeant Scott's voice cut through the oppressive silence, his words echoing off the walls of the garage

“I think this is part of an old parking garage,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the suffocating stillness. The deeper quiet felt heavy, as if the walls themselves were listening.

Octavia and Bellamy took the lead, their figures disappearing into the darkness ahead. But before they could get far, the guard stopped them, his voice low and urgent.

"Hey, not so fast," one of the guards said, Bellamy stopped abruptly, his hand raised in a defensive gesture.

Before Bellamy could utter a word, the guard stepped forward, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you feared he would order Bellamy to stay behind, but to your surprise, the guard's lips curled into a small smile.

"We'll split up, be back in fifteen” the guard said simply, He reached out and placed a gun in Bellamy's hand, a silent acknowledgment of his leadership. "Be safe. We'll meet you guys later.”

Bellamy's expression softened, gratitude shining in his eyes as he accepted the weapon. With a nod of thanks, he turned to lead the way in the darkness.

…

The sound of their footsteps faded into the distance as you crouched behind a nearby car, your heart pounding in your chest. Peering over the hood, you strained to catch any sign of movement in the oppressive gloom.

The faint sound of a music box drifted through the air, sending a shiver down your spine as you locked eyes with Bellamy, his expression tense with anticipation.

Every creak and rustle seemed magnified, each shadow twisting and contorting into grotesque shapes.

You reached into your bag, fingers trembling as they closed around the cold metal of the gun Byrne had given you. Adrenaline surged through your veins, every nerve on edge as you instinctively aimed the weapon, ready to defend yourself and the others.

Bellamy and Octavia crept closer to where the guards were, their movements cautious and deliberate. You followed suit, shimming between cars to keep the siblings in your sight, heart pounding with anticipation.

You settled a few cars across from them, tension coiled tight in your chest, the darkness seemed to grow thicker, more oppressive.

Octavia stood, walking towards the guards, her silhouette stark against the dim light. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw something move in the shadows, a flicker of movement that sent a shiver down your spine.

And then, you heard it - the guttural snarls and moans of Reapers, echoing from multiple directions. Your blood ran cold as the horrifying realization sunk in, dread gripping you in its icy embrace.

Bellamy raised his flashlight higher in its direction. You watched in horror as Sergeant Scott and his partner were overwhelmed by the ravenous creatures, their screams drowned out by the sound of tearing flesh and gnashing teeth.

The sickening sound of them feasting on their bodies reverberated through the vacant space.

You raised your gun and fired, the sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as two Reapers fell to the ground, motionless, the taunting melody of the music box continued to play in the background.

You shook your head in fear and disbelief, realization kicking in as You were trapped in a garage with zombie Grounders. Could this get any more inconvenient?

“O...” Bellamy's voice broke through the silence, “Take this.” He stated, his expression grim as he handed her a gun.

With a sense of urgency, you moved closer to them before you could even comprehend the next move, the sound of more snarling filled the air, signaling that the danger was far from over.

More snarling emanated from the corner, you instinctively reached Octavia’s side, your grip tightening on the gun as tension crackled in the air.

Just then, Lincoln's figure emerged from the shadows, his presence casting a chilling shadow over the scene. You raised your gun, aiming at his head, Octavia's voice stopped you in your tracks.

“It’s Lincoln! We have to get him out of here,” Octavia exclaimed.

Bellamy hesitated, uncertainty etched on his face but you knew you couldn’t leave him like this.

“Lincoln! It's me, Octavia!” Octavia called out desperately, her voice filled with desperation and hope.

Lincoln lurched forward, his bloodshot eyes and blood-stained mouth a terrifying sight to behold. With a swift motion, he threw Octavia aside, sending her crashing onto the hood of a nearby car, before turning his attention to Bellamy.

You moved out of Lincoln's line of sight, taking aim at his leg and pulling the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the garage, the sound reverberating off the walls as Lincoln staggered, a look of brief recognition flickering across his face.

Lincoln let out a primal roar, his eyes ablaze with bloodlust as he charged forward once more, the grip of madness tightening its hold.

Bellamy charged forward, knocking Lincoln down with the butt of his rifle.

…

You crouched behind the safety of another car, clutching the gun tightly to your chest as you frantically psyched yourself up, adrenaline coursing through your veins like wildfire.

Reciting words of encouragement under your breath, you urged yourself to get up and run, to keep moving forward despite the overwhelming fear that threatened to consume you.

“We need to move, now!” Octavia said urgently, snapping you back to reality.

You gave a determined nod as you broke into a sprint, your heart hammering in your chest as you weaved between cars, the hope of safety driving you forward.

The snarls of the Reapers seemed to echo all around you, but the three of you pushed on. Your senses heightened as you scanned for any sign of escape. And then, you spotted it - a car with the back door slightly ajar.

you sprinted towards it, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you dove headfirst into the backseat with a cry of relief. Bellamy and Octavia close behind you.

Octavia rushed inside last, slamming the door shut behind her with a resounding thud.

 “That was too close,” Bellamy panted, his voice strained with exhaustion as he leaned against the seat. “Everyone okay?”

“I’m good. Y/N?” Octavia’s concern was evident in her voice as she turned to you, her eyes searching your face for any sign of distress.

You let out a shaky breath as you tried to steady your trembling hands, “I think I peed myself a little bit, so there's that,” you admitted with a nervous laugh, the tension of the moment finally starting to ebb away.

…

The silence that followed in the garage was eerie. Bellamy’s instructions to remain silent hung heavy in the air, the weight of their significance pressing down on you like a leaden weight.

Clanking against the back of the car shattered the silence, sending a jolt of fear through you.

With bated breath, you turned to face the source of the noise, your voice stuck in your throat as Lincoln stumbled past the car, his bloodied form gaining the attention of the other two.  

You yelped and instinctively buried your head in Bellamy's chest as zombie Lincoln's hollow gaze pierced through the window, fixated on Octavia's figure. His snarls echoed menacingly in the cramped space, sending shivers down your spine.

Bellamy's arms wrapped protectively around you, watching him snarl and gaze into his reflection. Octavia leaned in close beside you, her eyes locked on Lincoln's haunting reflection,

With a shaky laugh, you mumbled against Bellamy's chest, “eat Octavia first, she's juicier!"

Bellamy's hand gently cradled the back of your head, his touch grounding you in the midst of turmoil.

"You got this. Just try not to pee yourself again," he murmured softly, his words laced with both reassurance and amusement, his heartbeat echoing against your cheek.

…

Octavia's voice pierced the silence, calling out Lincoln's name, your heart pounded in anticipation. Regret surged through your veins as you watched him draw nearer, every step bringing him closer to the trap you had set.

“Lincoln!” She called, “Lincoln can you hear me?”

Just as Lincoln reached out towards Octavia, Bellamy sprang into action, his movements fast and decisive. In a swift motion, he wielded the guard's shock baton, delivering a powerful blow that sent Lincoln crashing to the ground.

Crouching down beside him, you checked his pulse, relief flooding through you as you confirmed he was still breathing.

"Now what do we do?" you asked as you glanced between Octavia and Bellamy.

Bellamy met your eyes. "Now we take him home," he declared.

[disneymbti]

hey, can u pls do mbti + zodiac signs of the 100? clarke griffin, octavia blake, bellamy blake, jasper jordan, john murphy, raven reyes, lexa kom trikru, madi griffin, josephine lightbourne.

Hi there, Dinand! I really hope you like this a lot!

Clarke Griffin's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: INFJ [The Advocate]

Introverted INFJs exhaust quickly around people and recharge by spending time by themselves.

They tend to overlook small details and instead focus on the entire perspective. They love to see how everything connects together.

Advocates prioritize their emotions. They tend to base decisions on what they feel is right rather than what might be logically sound, making them very empathetic.

They are also very structured and organized. INFJs like to plan ahead and follow processes and schedules.

Big Three: Scorpio Sun, Virgo Moon and Capricorn Rising

Scorpio Sun: Ruled by Mars and Pluto, the Scorpio Sun is known to be intense, mysterious, and ever-evolving. 

Virgo Moon: Virgo Moons use their calm nature to gain deep clarity on matters, filtering questions through their kind, but reasonable, lens.

Capricorn Rising:  Capricorn ascendants are known for their efforts and diligence when it comes to attaining success and prosperity. 

Enneagram Type: 1w2 [The Activist]

Basic Fear: People who are type one with a two wing generally have a basic fear of being immoral and making impure choices. They avoid this by making a conscious effort to make ethical choices.

Basic Desire: They also have a natural desire to be upstanding and humane. They try to fight for the rights of those less fortunate and love being hands-on in making a difference by volunteering in their community.

Activists tend to respond to negativity by redirecting their emotions in order to gain a sense of control. In type ones with two wings, this may lead to sudden outbursts or breaking points, as they work through their emotions more externally.

Moral Alignment: True Neutral [The Balanced]

These characters believe in balance and avoid taking sides. They don’t take moral or ethical stances, but assess situations pragmatically.

Octavia Blake's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ESFP [The Entertainer]

ESFPs are very outgoing and lively people. They thrive in groups and prefer not to spend too much time alone.

They are very observant, focusing closely on the details rather than the grand scheme. They think in terms of the present.

Entertainers tend to prioritize emotion when making decisions, concerning themselves more with how their decisions will affect others. They are empathetic and diplomatic.

They rely more on opportunity than rigid scheduling. They are spontaneous and playful people, with a passion for finding new adventures.

Big Three: Aquarius Sun, Aries Moon and Scorpio Rising

Aquarius Sun: Aquarius is ruled by Saturn and Uranus, which makes them seek out unique ways to problem-solve and to approach life. They're known to be intellectual and innovative.

Aries Moon: Lunar Aries are known to be emotionally responsive and impulsive at times, as they lead with fiery passions over than logic or reason.

Scorpio Rising: Prone to turning heads, Scorpio ascendents ooze with magnetism and dynamism. They're not known to back away from a challenge. 

Enneagram Type: 8w7 [The Nonconformist]

Basic Fear: Eight with a seven wing fear being controlled by others. They dislike authority and prefer to work alone.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to remain in control of their own lives. They also want other people to be free, and are often advocates for those less able.

Nonconformists defend themselves by denying vulnerability. They don’t want to appear weak and therefore avoid situations that may leave them exposed or defenseless.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral [The Free Spirit]

Free from societal constraints, these characters prioritize their own freedom and make choices based on their whims.

Bellamy Blake's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ESTP [The Entrepreneur]

ESTP types like being around large groups of people, whether they know them or not. They prefer being out in action to being at home by themselves.

They are very observant and detail-oriented people. They are practical and realistic, focusing on the here-and-now.

Entrepreneurs make decisions based in logic. They care more about following the truth than making other people happy.

They avoid schedules, preferring to make plans as they go. They are less aware of time and enjoy being adaptable.

Big Three: Aries Sun, Cancer Moon and Virgo Rising

Aries Sun: The first sign of the zodiac, Aries is ruled by action planet Mars. When placed as the sun sign, the ram can motivate themselves to face on fears and blow past hesitation.

Cancer Moon: The emotions of Cancer Moons have no limits, restraints, or depths. This is a cosmic placement that often leads to sweetness, kindness, emotional awareness and responsibility. 

Virgo Rising: Virgo ascendants are the fact-finders and checkers of the zodiac. They are fair-minded and slow to anger.

Enneagram Type: 8w7 [The Nonconformist]

Basic Fear: Eight with a seven wing fear being controlled by others. They dislike authority and prefer to work alone.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to remain in control of their own lives. They also want other people to be free, and are often advocates for those less able.

Nonconformists defend themselves by denying vulnerability. They don’t want to appear weak and therefore avoid situations that may leave them exposed or defenseless.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good [The Rebel]

These characters value freedom and kindness, often challenging laws and order to achieve just outcomes.

Jasper Jordan's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ENFP [The Campaigner]

ENFP types are generally very outgoing and lively, preferring to go out rather than stay in. They love conversing with other people and generally process their thoughts externally.

They are great problem solvers and enjoy figuring out how everything is connected. They tend to focus more on the future than the present.

Campaigners like to keep the peace and avoid conflict. They care more about subjective principles than logic and fact. 

They are flexible and spontaneous, preferring to keep their options open. They dislike routines, schedules, and strict rules.

Big Three: Sagittarius Sun, Pisces Moon and Leo Rising

Sagittarius Sun: Sagittarius is governed by the expansive planet Jupiter, and is known for a free-spirited, globe-trotting, philosophical mindset — and wild streak.

Pisces Moon: Pisces Moons are hyper-attuned to the needs and emotions of others. They're likely to predict what's on your mind before you even say it.

Leo Rising: Leo ascendants bask in the glow of sunlight, radiating positivity and charm. Performers through and through, those with this friendly, radiant, and outgoing placement exude confidence and strength.

Enneagram Type: 7w6 [The Pathfinder]

Basic Fear: Sevens with a six wing have a deeply-rooted fear of missing out. They want to be trustworthy and honor commitments, but they also want to leave room to allow for last-minute opportunities.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to feel fulfilled and happy. They express this by searching for joy in every small thing that comes their way.

Pathfinders defend themselves by rationalizing away negative feelings. They unconsciously convince themselves that they are happy, even when they are not.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good [The Rebel]

These characters value freedom and kindness, often challenging laws and order to achieve just outcomes.

John Murphy's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ISTP [The Virtuoso]

Virtuosos are generally more reserved and prefer being alone. They are self-sufficient and independent thinkers.

They are very observant and focus on the details of a situation, trusting facts and making decisions based on the here-and-now.

ISTP types favor logic and reason over emotional influences. They base their decisions on what makes sense.

They are also spontaneous and prefer keeping their options open. Virtuosos are often more adaptable and less aware of time.

Big Three: Capricorn Sun, Scorpio Moon and Libra Rising

Capricorn Sun: Capricorn is ruled by authoritative Saturn, which is why they tend to work hard toward advancing themselves in earthly matters. 

Scorpio Moon: Scorpio Moons are known for their brooding nature that exudes passion. Once you win them over, they are loyal and unconditional in matters of love.

Libra Rising: Finding balance in life is essential for Libra risings, who prefer things to be even-keeled and civil.

Enneagram Type: 6w7 [The Confidant]

Basic Fear: Six wing sevens’ fear losing their support system. This may be expressed through self-deprecating humor, in which they seek affirmation and assurance from other people.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to feel safe and supported. They show this by being loving and supportive to others. They honor their commitments and are very loyal to their friends.

Like other sixes, Confidants defend themselves by projecting their feelings, which may lead them to misunderstanding themselves and their relationships.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral [The Free Spirit]

Free from societal constraints, these characters prioritize their own freedom and make choices based on their whims.

Raven Reyes' MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ISTP [The Virtuoso]

Virtuosos are generally more reserved and prefer being alone. They are self-sufficient and independent thinkers.

They are very observant and focus on the details of a situation, trusting facts and making decisions based on the here-and-now.

ISTP types favor logic and reason over emotional influences. They base their decisions on what makes sense.

They are also spontaneous and prefer keeping their options open. Virtuosos are often more adaptable and less aware of time.

Big Three: Virgo Sun, Aries Moon and Taurus Rising

Virgo Sun: Governed by communication planet Mercury, Virgos are the thinkers of the zodiac. Virgos process information with diligence and use facts to solve problems. 

Aries Moon: Lunar Aries are known to be emotionally responsive and impulsive at times, as they lead with fiery passions over than logic or reason.

Taurus Rising: Those with Taurus risings exude grace and sophistication, and handle business with a sweet disposition.

Enneagram Type: 5w6 [The Troubleshooter]

Basic Fear: Five wing sixes fear being useless or incapable. They seek to improve the world around them in order to feel worthy.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to be competent and useful. They usually show this by picking up new skills and pieces of knowledge that can be of benefit.

Troubleshooters may withdraw from others to cope with stressful situations, which can tend to make them feel lonely.

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good [The Benevolent]

These characters seek to do good, but are flexible in how they achieve it, valuing both order and freedom.

Lexa Kom Trikru's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: INTJ [The Architect]

INTJs like to have time alone to recharge and think introspectively.

They tend to listen to their strong intuition and love to see how everything connects together. They are focused on the bigger picture and may overlook small details.

Architects are very logical and rational. They base decisions on what makes sense and might have a harder time connecting emotionally.

They are organized and prefer following a plan. They love to set and achieve goals. 

Big Three: Capricorn Sun, Aries Moon and Scorpio Rising

Capricorn Sun: Capricorn is ruled by authoritative Saturn, which is why they tend to work hard toward advancing themselves in earthly matters. 

Aries Moon: Lunar Aries are known to be emotionally responsive and impulsive at times, as they lead with fiery passions over than logic or reason.

Scorpio Rising: Prone to turning heads, Scorpio ascendents ooze with magnetism and dynamism. They're not known to back away from a challenge. 

Enneagram Type: 8w9 [The Diplomat]

Basic Fear: Eights with a nine wing fear being hurt by others. They avoid situations in which they have less control, generally preferring to be in positions of leadership.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to guard themselves against threats and control their own destiny. They may express this by asserting independence at a young age.

Diplomats defend themselves by building emotional walls and denying vulnerability. They seek to appear strong, subconsciously believing that being too emotional will make them seem weak.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral [The Judge]

These characters are all about order and organization. They strictly follow laws, regardless of whatever it leads to good or evil outcomes.

Madi Griffin's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ISFP [The Adventurer]

ISFP types need plenty of personal space. Though they enjoy building connections with people, they need alone time to think and recharge.

They are very observant, especially focusing on the details more than the overall view. They live in the present and tend to base decisions on what they can see right now.

Adventurers also prioritize emotion when making decisions. They prefer to follow what feels right.

They don’t like schedules, but instead prefer to keep their options open. They are adaptable, spontaneous, and like to challenge the need for strict rules.

Big Three: Leo Sun, Libra Moon and Sagittarius Rising

Leo Sun: The Sun rules the sign Leo, which is why Leo Suns all about ego, will, and character. They’re known to be creative, playful, and bold.

Libra Moon: Moon in Libra is makes for a relationship-oriented individual. They may base their decisions upon how they are viewed by others. 

Sagittarius Rising: Sagittarius risings are jovial, optimistic, and full of energy. They sparkle with confidence, and you can't help but sparkle back when you're around them.

Enneagram Type: 6w7 [The Confidant]

Basic Fear: Six wing sevens’ fear losing their support system. This may be expressed through self-deprecating humor, in which they seek affirmation and assurance from other people.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to feel safe and supported. They show this by being loving and supportive to others. They honor their commitments and are very loyal to their friends.

Like other sixes, Confidants defend themselves by projecting their feelings, which may lead them to misunderstanding themselves and their relationships.

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good [The Benevolent]

These characters seek to do good, but are flexible in how they achieve it, valuing both order and freedom.

Josephine Lightbourne's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ENTJ [The Commander]

As ENTJs, Commanders are talkative, high energy, and thrive around people. They seek action and tend to involve themselves in events. They prefer not to spend too much time alone.

They focus more on the big picture than on tiny details—they’re interested in how everything connects together and trust their internal thought process more than they trust past experience.

ENTJs use logic rather than emotion in decision making. They tend to follow what makes sense, rather than what feels right.

They are structured, organized, like to plan ahead and know what’s going to happen. They appreciate rules, processes, and schedules.

Big Three: Gemini Sun, Sagittarius Moon and Scorpio Rising

Gemini Sun: Geminis are chatty and talkative, priding themselves on being in-the-know when it comes to news and gossip. Their dualistic nature allows them to see situations from a number of perspectives.

Sagittarius Moon: The Moon is considered to be lucky in Sagittarius, as it brings excitement, adventure, and abundance. However, those with Sagittarius Moons can be defensive at times.

Scorpio Rising: Prone to turning heads, Scorpio ascendents ooze with magnetism and dynamism. They're not known to back away from a challenge. 

Enneagram Type: 7w8 [The Opportunist]

Basic Fear: Seven with an eight wing fear being deprived. They want to pursue new opportunities and avoid being controlled by schedules.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to content and satisfied. They love experiencing the world by traveling and going to parties.

Opportunists defend themselves by justifying others’ negative actions and rationalizing away bad feelings.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Evil [The Destroyer]

These characters value their own freedom and power, and will stop at nothing to achieve them, even if it means causing chaos and harm to others.

[lexinoctura]

The day they stopped counting

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence // after Praimfaya // sequel to "Praimfaya – The other way around" // light angst // family fluff // opening the bunker

Praimfaya has long past, and finally Bellamy was happy. It was almost prefect. He had Clarke, their son Percy as well as Madi, and the rest of his friends all around him, alive and happy. And instead of just surviving Earth, they were thriving, living. The only thing that was left missing was his sister, and the rest of the last remaining humans on Earth, trapped underneath hundreds, if not thousands of tons of rubble and concrete in a more than 100 year old bunker.

The second Chapter, is now available on every device with connection to AO3, waiting for you to read :D

Contact to the bunker was made, but there are a few things that need to be discussed first

[ao3feed-clexafic]

Safe & Sound

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/62811301 by amberalyson She’s sworn to protect her. She never expected to fall for her. When headstrong and fiercely independent Clarke Griffin, the president’s daughter, refuses security, the Secret Service has no choice but to send in their best agents—undercover. Enter Lexa Woods, highly trained, dangerously skilled, and now posing as just another college student. Her mission: blend in, stay close, and keep Clarke safe at all costs. But as Clarke and Lexa’s worlds collide, their connection grows into something neither of them expected. With secrets mounting and threats lurking in the shadows, Lexa must walk a dangerous line between duty and desire. Because if Clarke finds out who she really is, it could break them apart. And if their enemies strike first, it could cost them everything. Romance. Suspense. Betrayal. Words: 2667, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: The 100 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F Characters: Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Octavia Blake, Raven Reyes (The 100), John Murphy (The 100), Monty Green, Jasper Jordan, Finn Collins, Abby Griffin, Marcus Kane (The 100), Niylah (The 100), Lexa (The 100), Indra (The 100), Roan (The 100), Lincoln (The 100), Anya (The 100), Nia | Ice Queen, Luna (The 100), Echo (The 100), Gustus (The 100), Nyko (The 100), Ontari (The 100), Titus (The 100), Costia (The 100) Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Additional Tags: Title from a Taylor Swift Song, The Secret Service - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, President of the United States Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/62811301

[who-needs-reality-anyways]

Is It a Date?

Clarke exits the library with a huff. Two ten page papers due in the next week. Plus homework from her other classes, and her campus job. How do her friends ever find time to have a social life?

Coffee in hand and heavy bookbag slung onto her shoulders, she crosses the parking lot into a large courtyard. The smell of the lilac trees drift into her nose, making her smile. She has always loved lilacs.

Clarke makes her way to the center of the courtyard where her favorite tree is located. She calls it her study tree because everyday at this time she sits at the base and does her schoolwork. The only time she works at home is if the weather isn’t good or some other special circumstance.

She found it at the beginning of first semester and fell in love immediately. It has a curve in its side that fits her body perfectly. A large, flat root sits high enough to put her notebook on and comfortably write or use her computer. There are even a couple smaller roots that split and then join back together that she uses as a cup holder. Its as if this tree was specifically molded for studying and no one has taken advantage of it. She halfway believes her good grades come from this tree.

As Clarke gets closer, though, she sees a problem. Someone is already sitting at her tree! She feels like the three bears coming home to find Goldilocks sleeping their beds.

She keeps walking so she can see if it’s one of her friends or at least someone she knows, but as she gets closer, she sees it is a guy she has never met. Clarke seriously contemplates asking him what he is doing, but it’s not like she has any actual right to this tree.

Instead, she stops and… watches. He is very attractive. Dark, curly hair, olive skin, sitting back comfortably against the trunk. She could probably watch him for a long time if it wasn’t so creepy. As she is about to turn around and walk away, he lifts his head.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks in deep voice.

Clarke hopes she is still far away enough that he doesn’t notice the blush rising up her neck. “Um, no. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“Are you sure?” The strange boy smirks, making his freckles dance and a teasing glint in his gorgeous brown eyes. “You’ve been standing there for a couple minutes.”

“It’s nothing, just that…um…” Clarke doesn’t want to be rude and say it’s her tree, but she has to say something. “I usually study in that spot, but I have an apartment. I can go home today.”

“No way,” he says, gathering his things and standing up. “I can go. I wouldn’t want to impede your education.”

“No, you don’t have to leave! Honestly it’s fine, I was just curious who was here. I’ve never seen you around before.”

“I just transferred here this semester. My name is Bellamy.”

“Clarke.” They shake hands, but, strangely, neither are eager to let go.

“Well, hello Clarke.” Bellamy holds his other arm towards the tree. “It’s all yours. It was nice to meet you.”

Without another word, Bellamy walks away, and Clarke suddenly wishes he would come back. She didn’t intend to kick him out. Then she curses herself for acting like an idiot. She also wishes she was brave enough to ask for his number. He is stunning and very kind. Now who knows how long until she sees him again.

Well, there isn’t much else to do but study. Clarke positions herself into the familiar groove and gets everything she needs from her bag. Although, after a half hour she is still finding it hard to concentrate. Bellamy…

The next day, she exits the library and heads towards her spot once again. She doesn’t even bother denying the hope she feels that Bellamy is sitting there again. This time she will do things right.

Except as Clarke gets closer, she can tell the spot is empty. Her chest deflates just a little. She really thought he would come back. Maybe it was just her that felt a little connection yesterday? Oh well, she messed up a possible romance, what else is new?

When Clarke arrives, though, she notices something sitting on the root she uses as a table. Its a paper plate of chocolate chip cookies. She crouches down to get a better look and sees the note stuck to the plastic wrap. “What the…”

Sorry for taking your study spot yesterday. Hopefully I can make it up to you with dinner?

Is he asking her out? It sure seems like it, but how is she supposed to answer him? He didn’t leave any way of contacting him.

Unless…

Clarke squints her eyes and slowly walks around the large tree. There on the other side is Bellamy leaning against the bark.

“So, is it a date?” he asks, showing off his beautiful smile.

She grins back at him, completely lost in the cheesiness of the situation. This only ever happens in rom-coms. There is no way it’s actually happening to her.

But he is right in front of her, asking to take her on a date by way of cookie platter. How can she refuse?

“It’s a date.” Then she adds with a smirk, “But only after I’m done studying. Can’t let this spot got to waste on such a beautiful day.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he replies.

Clarke sits down against the trunk and Bellamy situates himself across from her. It seems her grades aren’t the only good thing that has come from this tree.