#answered : bellamy

[misscherry-26]

I saw you were taking requests for Bellamy Blake and I haddd to send one in!! Could you please write a lil spice fic, where they’re in the woods and get in a fight or sum n he js suddenly kissss her. Thank you twin!!

Unspoken Feelings

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Author's Note: Hi!!! Thank you so much for this!! My first request for Bellamy Blake. Oh the things I felt while working on this...👀 By the way I had to make a few changes, this is my most polished draft, haha. I'm so excited to share it, though I don't know how good I did with the spicy. I hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting. ❤️

There could be grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language.

He really thinks he’s the leader, the king of the earth. Self-centered egoist of a man. He can go fuck himself. You think as you walk through the woods in search of the plant that Clarke needs for Finn, who was attached by the grounder that kidnapped Octavia.

They managed to get him to the ship, but now he was struggling for his life. The problem was that the knife he was stabbed with was infected. Bellamy and his group got the grounder and tortured him to get information. Of course he refused to give it, that until Octavia threatened him to harm herself with the poisoned knife. Finn would live, but Clark needed more medicinal plants for him.

But of course, Bellamy Blake had to give his ultimatum that no one would leave the camp, no after realizing that you aren’t the only survivors of earth. He could care less about saving people, but you for sure didn’t. You don’t know Finn completely but, he deserves to live.

Since the ship landed on Earth, You and Bellamy have been at each other’s throat every single moment. It’s like you are locked in a never-ending battle, a constant clash of wills. Every decision he makes seems to deliberately oppose yours, every step he takes is a challenge to your very presence. He thrives in the chaos, you can see it in the way he strides trough camp, shoulders squared, head held high, daring anyone to question him. His motto—whatever the hell we want—rings in your ears like a taunt, a reckless mantra you can’t ignore. He embodies it with every decision, with every command he gives without caring for the consequences.

When he encouraged the others to rip off their bracelets, you felt the sting of frustration burning through your veins. To him it was a bold declaration of independence from the Ark, but to you, it was a hasty move to those above thinking Earth wasn’t livable.

And then, there was the Grounder. The way he’d dragged the man into camp, beaten and bloodied, as if his very existence was a crime that needed punishing. You left the room when he ordered the torture, convinced that brute force was the only answer. The look in his eyes then—cold, calculating, determined—was a look that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

He’s always there, hiding on the edges of your vision, challenging you. It’s infuriating, the way he dismisses anything resembling compromise or collaboration as weakness, how he scoffs at your attempts to hold onto something resembling order or morality.

Yet, there’s something in his attitude —something in the way he glances at you, a flicker of underdetermination, a tension that thrums between you like a wire. It’s in the way he steps closer when you argue, his body taut, like he’s gearing up for a fight he both craves and dreads. You feel it too—the tightness in your chest, the burn of frustration that’s more than just anger, something deeper, more complicated. You don’t know whether you want to scream at him or—

But no, you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he gets under your skin.

You take a look at the sky losing its light with each minute that it passes.

Taking a deep breath, you continue.

After what feels like hours of searching, you finally spot the familiar shape of the plant you’re looking for. You remember the details Clark gave you. Crouching down you carefully pull a small bag from your pocket. You work quickly, plucking the plants and stuffing them into the bag, your movements precise and purposeful.

But then—a sudden rustling, a low whisper of movement through the leaves nearby. Your heart stutters, and your breath catches in your throat.

Instinct takes over. You drop low, pressing yourself against the cold ground, hiding behind the broad leaves of the plant. Grounders, maybe.

They could be watching, waiting.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, listening for the sound of footsteps, for the snap of a twig or the rustle of leaves that would betray their presence. But instead, you hear a low chuckle—soft, mocking, and far too familiar.

Your eyes snap open, and you whip around, breath catching in your chest.

There, arms on his waist, is Bellamy. His eyes, dark and sharp, are fixed on you like a predator who has found his prey. His brows are drawn together, the muscles in his neck tense, and there's a fire in his gaze that blazes hotter than any annoyance you've seen before.

“I see you like to test my patience, Princess.” His deep voice cuts through the silence, pulling your gaze upward. He's standing right in front of you.

You get up immediately, your breathing and muscles relaxing at the notice that you are not in danger.

“What are you doing here?” You ignore his previous comment, turning around and continuing on getting more plants.

“I remember telling everyone to not leave camp, and that includes you too, you know? There’s no special treatment here.” You hear him from behind.

“I wasn’t going to sit around. Clark needs this for Finn.”

“He’s stable enough; we don’t need anyone else getting hurt over this.” Bellamy insists, his tone sharp.

You clench your teeth and turn. “Look, I couldn’t care less what you think. I don’t go by your rules.”

Bellamy scoffs and grabs your arm. You let go of his grasp as soon as he starts walking.

“Don’t touch me!”

Bellamy watches you, wondering why you are being stubborn right now. Hell, he even wonders why he came here for the first place. Was he worried about you? Why did he come here? He questions himself. Bellamy’s mind races, battling with the tangled web of his feelings. He’s been fighting to keep everyone safe, to enforce rules that seem cold but necessary, and yet, here he is, breaking his own rule because of you.

Truth is, you have been nothing but a burden to him every single day since they put a foot on earth. Your defiance, your refusal to follow orders, your reckless bravery—all of it has been a thorn in his side. Every day, you challenged his authority and decisions, and yet, despite all the friction, despite the constant arguments and the resentment, there’s something about you that pulls at him.

He can’t quite distinguish it, but it’s there—a magnetic pull that makes him question his own motives and feelings. It’s in the way you stand up for what you believe in, even when it puts you at risk. It’s in the fire and determination in your eyes, something that resonates with him on a deeper level than he’s willing to admit.

The frustration he feels is braided with an unspoken admiration, a bittering respect that complicates his emotions even further. Bellamy is torn between his duty and the sudden impulses of something else—something he can’t easily define or control. It’s a vulnerability he hasn’t allowed himself to explore, and it confuses him.

All he knows is that despite the danger and the defiance, he can’t seem to turn his back on you. His frustration is laced with a deeper, more complex emotion that makes him question why he’s so determined to keep you safe.

He thought you would be this scared of everyone and everything type of girl, but you prove him all the opposite.

“Let’s go back—”

“I won’t.” You cut him off, not giving him a chance to say anything. You turn again and continue with your job.

Of course, you hoped that he would go and leave you alone. You hoped.

Next thing you know, your feet aren’t touching the ground and you are being lifted up by him. A few leaves escape your grasp, so you make sure to close the bag.

“Let me go!” You protest.

“Stop screaming, you are putting us in danger” He doesn’t listen to your request, instead he walks back to camp.

You scoff, moving frantically. “If you cared so much about safety, you wouldn’t be carrying me off like I’m just another pack to you!”

Bellamy's jaw clenches, and he stops abruptly, eyes scanning the surrounding woods.

“You’re the one making noise,” he retorts, setting you down but not releasing his grip entirely. “Keep quiet or—”

You hear it then—a rustling of leaves, far too close, far too deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat. It’s not just the wind. Bellamy stiffens beside you, his grip on your arm tightening reflexively.

For a split second, your eyes meet, and you both know: the Grounders.

“Run,” he whispers, urgency dripping from the word.

But there’s no time to argue. You both take off, feet pounding against the damp earth, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The sounds behind you grow closer—footsteps, which makes your heart race even faster.

Up ahead, you spot a dark opening—a cave, half-hidden by foliage. You yank Bellamy toward it without thinking, and for once, he doesn’t resist. Both dive inside, pressing against the cold rock. The cave is narrow, suffocating, but it’s cover.

Outside, you hear the murmurs and footsteps of the Grounders drawing near. You hold your breath, every muscle tense. Bellamy’s hand is still around your wrist, and you can feel his pulse racing just as fast as yours.

“We’re not going anywhere until it clears. We need to stay inside.” he mutters, barely audible.

Bellamy presses a hand against the small of your back, steering you deeper into the cave, his touch firm, almost commanding. You feel the heat of his palm through your shirt, and it sends a jolt of anger through you.

“Get your hand off me.” You snap, jerking away from his touch. But the cave is too narrow, and he doesn't give you much space to maneuver.

His jaw tightens, and he steps even closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I’m trying to keep you from getting killed.”

You dig your heels in, resisting just to spite him. “I don’t need you to save my life, Bellamy.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it—just a sharp, bitter edge. “You think I want to be stuck here with you? Trust me, Princess, this is the last place I want to be.”

You whirl around, stepping closer, your chest brushing against his, both of you too angry to care. “Then why are you here?” you fire back, your voice louder than you intended. “Why do you always have to control everything? Who made you the boss of me?"

His hand, still on your back, clenches into a fist, pulling you closer instead of pushing you away.

“Maybe because I’m trying to keep you alive!” he spits out, his face inches from yours, his breath hot. “You are always doing this—taking risks, getting in my way. Do you have a death wish?”

Your heart pounds in your chest, anger flaring into something more intense. “No, but maybe you do,” you whisper fiercely. “Coming out here, risking your life for someone you supposedly can’t stand. What is it, Bellamy? Why do you even care?”

He grits his teeth, and you see something flicker in his eyes—a momentary crack in his armor. “I don’t!” he snaps, but his voice lacks conviction, faltering on the last word.

“Liar,” you accuse, stepping even closer, your forehead nearly touching his. “If you didn’t care, you’d have let me go. You wouldn’t have come after me, wouldn’t have—”

His grip tightens on your arm, and his other hand moves to your waist, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” His voice is low, almost a growl. “You think you’ve got me all figured out?”

You tilt your chin defiantly, eyes blazing. “Why don’t you just admit it? All this, you’re not really angry. You’re scared. Scared of what might happen if you lose control. Scared of what it means if something happens to m—"

But he doesn’t let you finish. In the blink of an eye, he’s on you, lips crashing against yours with a force that takes your breath away. The kiss is rough, almost bruising, a mixture of frustration and something deeper—something desperate. You freeze for a moment, caught off guard, before the shock melts into anger again, and you shove against his chest.

He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he presses you harder against the cold, cave wall, his body flush against yours. His hands move up, one sliding to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place while his mouth claims yours with a furious intensity, like he’s trying to silence every word, every protest.

Your heart is racing, your thoughts a tangled mess. You should push him away again, should shove him back and yell in his face, but instead, you find yourself kissing him back just as fiercely, your hands fisting in his shirt. It’s like all the anger, all the arguments have boiled over into this—this raw, heated clash of mouths and tongues.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are panting, breaths coming fast, and his forehead rests against yours, his eyes still dark with emotion.

“Why do you care?” you whisper again, but this time your voice is softer, less certain.

His thumb brushes your cheek, and his gaze is intense, almost searching. “I don’t know,” he mutters, but there’s something vulnerable in his tone, something that makes your heart ache even as your anger simmers beneath the surface.

“Maybe I’m frustrated…so damn frustrated because—” He hesitates, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “—because you’ve got a way of getting under my skin, and it’s driving me crazy. But yeah, there it is. I’m worried. Happy?”

His lips are so close you can feel his breath on your skin, and for a moment, it’s like the whole world has narrowed to just the two of you, trapped together in this cave, trapped by something you can’t name.

"Bell..." you start, but he silences you again, this time with a softer kiss, one that seems to ask for something instead of demand it.

His hands slips down to the curve of your waist pulling you even closer, and you feel a shiver run down your spine, heat pounding low in your belly.

Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers locking on his dark strands. The kids deepens, growing more urgent, desperate, as if both of you are trying to pour all this unspoken feelings into a single, shared breath.

And you know that whatever this is, you are not ready to stop it. Not yet.

[anatomical-puppet]

Doodle requests you say? may i have an eira and bandy interaction please

not pictured: lance beating eira’s ass 5 minutes before this

eira and bandy’s hypothetical dynamic is so fucking funny to me, mainly bc i feel like bandy would see eira as the most fun to fuck with since he tries so hard to be no-nonsense. lots of comedic potential with these two

[bellamyblake]

do you have some fanfics where bellamy is hurt/scared like in the fic you wrote https://bellamyblake.tumblr.com/post/613676607405686784/major-whump-prompt-if-youre-still-taking-clarke/amp (it’s like my favourite piece in the fandom tbh it’s so good ><) and like Left Behind (read it cuz you recommended it in the past) they’re two of my absolute favourites

or any fic where bellamy gets care or love from kane or even abby

or any bellarke fic where bellamy has a sad backstory and clarke finds out the more she gets to know him

(doesn’t have to be in the 100 universe, but if it is pls none that take place s5 or afterwards ~ i haven’t gotten that far yet)

Aw, hey, nonnie!

Thank you so much for the kind comment on my fic. I have posted two whumpy ones in the past month that you may enjoy and that you may also find on my Ao3 account:

Why we're here- this one is about Bellamy getting stabbed in 3x02 but getting kidnapped with Clarke by Roan.

You don't deserve it- and this one is about the aftermaths of Kane choking Bellamy in 3x16, there's a conversation between the two of them about it but also Bellarke, it's a bit longer and you may not like it idk.

I love writing Kane and Bell so I have multichaps that are all whumpy on my ao3 account too as well as a few other whumpy fics where Bellamy is hurt and someone's taking care of him. I have a few with Abby I think that I haven't posted but enough about me.

I highly recommend Voiceless by my friend @moonlight0934-it's pure beautiful whump and you can also find other Bellarke whump fics on their ao3 account.

You're right Left behind is the best whump I've read about Bellamy imo I have one more that is however downloaded because the author deleted their account and it's about the 5 times Abby takes care of Bellamy starting on the Ark but I have no way of posting that.

This monster has a heart by wolfypuppypiles (I may be repeating myself if you've asked me about recs before...so I'm sorry) This is pure whump too.

This is a Song About Somebody Else by grumpybell-this is an AU but it's amazing, it has both hurt Bellamy in chapter 3 and secrets about his past so I highly reccomend;

The Punishment this is amazing it's about Bellamy being tortured instead of Finn after he shoots the grounders in s2;

Maybe Just the Touch of a Hand by litvirg;

Don't Take That Sinner From Me. by biblio_witch;

comes and goes (in waves) by brimay is very sad but very good, it's TW depression though;

That's all I can think of right now, I'm sorry if I'm repeating myself!

[slytherinbarnes]

I NOW WE'RE TALKING ABOUT RED BUT YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT TEARS RICOCHET ISNT ABOUT BELLUNE LIKE!!!!!!!!!

i just found this in my drafts bc i very clearly had inspo and i cant believe i never shared it. my tears ricochet x bellune, but make it a season 3 au where we lose our girl instead of lincoln oops sorry

You sit beside Kane in lock up, having just said goodbye to your mother, wishing you could do the same with Bellamy and your sister. 

As you near the hour of what will soon be your death, you find comfort in knowing that at least Clarke will have your mother. Selfishly, some part of you is grateful that you don’t have to feel the loss of losing your twin, and that Clarke will have to learn to live with the grief. But she was always stronger than you, and if anyone could learn to live without half of themselves, your shining star can.

But in the end, it’s Bellamy your heart aches for. In a way, he’s lost his sister, his friends, those that are closest to him. In the moments of silence, when it’s just the two of you, you can see the weight pulling down his shoulders, can see the anguish that has settled into the lines on his face. Bellamy has spent most of his life lost; searching for who he is without a father, what kind of man he wanted to be on the Ark. and then losing his mother and Octavia, it left him listless, floating in the openness of space with no idea of who he wanted to be. 

It’s why he so easily agreed to save Octavia’s life by shooting Jaha; he had the opportunity to find himself again. To anchor his identity to his goal of saving Octavia, and ultimately, his people. 

But then his obsession with saving his people, after having lost so many in such a short time, broke him, pushed into the arms of a fascist chancellor who saw how easy it was to take advantage of the man you love. 

It’s a path you can’t follow him down. 

It’s a path you won’t be given the chance to follow him down, even if you wanted to. 

You look at Kane, at the man you’ve come to see as a father figure without even realizing it was happening. And now, the man who will lose his life the same way your father lost his. Fighting for what’s right. 

“It can't be all for nothing.” Kane turns to look at you in confusion, not understanding what you mean. You push on, “All of it. The spying, Mount Weather, all the hell we’ve faced can’t be all for nothing. Pike will destroy Skaikru until there’s nothing left, and everything we fought for will no longer matter.”

Lincoln wanders over and sits beside you on the bench. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, a silent message that he understands your frustration. 

“There’s nothing left for us to do. We have to hope our deaths will mean something. That it will finally push for the change we’ve been fighting for.”

You’re incredulous at the suggestion, at the thought of being told to just stop fighting. “So that’s it? We just give up?”

Kane shakes his head, his expression sad, but determined. “No. This is how we fight now. We go with grace, accept our punishment, hold our head high. We don’t break, we don’t show fear. The people will remember.”

He glances up at Sinclair, who has just joined the three of you, nodding in agreement. You look at Lincoln, who gives Kane a single nod in agreement, and you sit between them, wondering how this is all that’s left for you. You’re the last to agree, resigned to a fate that may save the love of your life and your people, a fate that you will not be around to see. 

-

You’ve never been happier to see Octavia Blake in your entire life. 

She ushers all of you to safety, freedom just on the other side of a hidden passageway built into Arkadia’s walls. 

A freedom that she watches slip away as Lincoln insists on staying back for his people. 

You see the betrayal on her face as she slips into unconsciousness, the same betrayal you felt when Bellamy did the same thing to you in Mount Weather. As Lincoln passes his unconscious girlfriend into Kane’s waiting arms, you close in on him, trying to change his mind. She passes out right after, and Lincoln catches her easily, passing her to Kane. You step towards Lincoln, looking at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Same thing you’d do for your people.”

You give him a serious look, “Yu laik ai kru.”

You are my people. He smiles at you, but it’s sad, and the sight of it hurts your heart. “Just get her out of here. Please.”

But then Kane’s words rattle around in your head, and it finally clicks for you. We have to hope our deaths will mean something. The people of Arkadia see Lincoln as a Grounder, and his sacrifice to save other Grounders will mean nothing to them. They will only see it as someone saving their own. They need to see one of their own, someone from the Ark, risking their life for Grounders. It’s the only way they’ll ever understand what the rest of you are fighting for. 

The answer seems so obvious now, and you feel like a fool for not thinking of it earlier. 

You turn back to Lincoln, shaking your head at him, already stepping away. “Get her out of here yourself. I can save your people.” And maybe Bellamy too. 

Kane steps closer to the two of you, unable to avoid overhearing your conversation in the small hallway. His expression is distraught, shaking his head as he looks at you. “No, you can’t.”

“You said it yourself: our deaths can mean something. The people will remember. I know this place better than Lincoln, I know the guard schedules and routes. I can get them out and be seen only when I need to be. I can end this.”

“But Clarke-”

You cut Kane off, “Has my mother, and our friends, and you.”

You can see the moment he remembers that you will not go out without a fight, that you will do this with or without his support. He offers you the only thing he can, which is his blessing. “If you get them into the west woods, they can navigate the trade routes to the blockade. They’ll be safe.”

It relieves you to have his approval, though you can see the anguish it’s causing him to give it. You give him a small smile of thanks, hoping he won’t carry guilt from something that you’re willingly choosing to do. 

You can’t say the same for Lincoln, who grabs your arm as you try to step away, pulling you back towards the escape route. “La lune, you can’t.”

“We both know it’s the only way, Lincoln. You know that I know this camp better than you. I’m more likely to make it through unnoticed. If you want your people to be safe, they need to get out of this camp, at least until Pike is dead. I can’t take care of that, but I can save your people and make a statement. Maybe the people will turn on him, offer him to the Grounders at the blockade.”

You can see that he desperately wants to argue with you, but when his mouth opens, no words come out. Because both of you know he’s right, and if Skaikru wants any chance of survival, they need to see Pike do the unthinkable. He reaches out for you, his strong arms pulling you into a hug, and it’s the first time since you made your decision that you start to tear up. 

When Lincoln pulls away, his expression is sad, but you swear you glimpse a look of pride in your eyes. It strengthens your resolve further. “A warrior with a heart.”

You smile at him before reaching up and unclasping your necklace, your thumb brushing over the silver moon one last time. You press it into Lincoln’s hand, delivering your final wish. “Can you give this to Bellamy for me?”

His hand closes over the moon, the last time you’ll ever see the small charm, and when you meet Lincoln's eyes, you can see that he understands what this means to you. “Of course.”

There’s a clamor down the hall, what sounds like a commotion of guards, and you know that time is finally up. You quickly press a kiss to Octavia’s forehead and back away from the two men, looking them both over as you mutter, “May we meet again.”

They repeat it back to you before slipping into the hidden passageway, and when you press the panel back into the wall, it’s with the knowledge that you’ll never see any of them again. 

-

The escape of 4 prisoners sentenced to death has the guards scrambling, and it makes them sloppy. 

It’s easy to be invisible when that’s all you were your entire life. You blend in with the crowds of Arkadians easily, walking past most of the guards in plain sight. And when you round the final corner to the small lock up you left not long ago, you’re relieved to find that they only left one guard behind. 

He’s not expecting you, so when you run down the hall at full speed, kicking your legs out to swipe his own feet from beneath him, he tumbles easily. You yank the shock baton from his belt, cranking it up just enough to knock him unconscious, but not to kill him. You’re trying to help your cause, not hurt it. 

You pat the man down, finding a small pocket knife that you slip into your pants, along with his key card to open the holding cell door. Denae stands there with the others, looking at you in shock, surprised to see you after you were led to your death not long ago. 

“Where’s Lincoln?”

“Safe. Escaped with the others.” You look over the group of Grounder prisoners that have started to stand and move towards you. “We don’t have much time. I have to get you to the west woods before they notice you’re gone.”

The Grounders don’t need to be told to hurry; they’ve seen how easily Pike locked his people up and sentenced them to death, know that it’s only a matter of time before they’re next. The stronger ones carry and guide the weak, and you take the emptier hallways until all of you are safely outside, the fence and the woods beyond it in your sight. You want to be seen, but getting caught before freeing the Grounders will only make things worse for everyone. 

As your group openly jogs across a busy section of Arkadia, people stop to watch you, but no one says a word, unsure of what exactly they’re seeing. When you reach the fence, you toss a nearby stick at a section you hope is no longer electrified, fried long ago during spy related activities. The stick hits the ground without event, and you let out a sigh of relief, guiding Denae and the others through the gaps in the fence. When everyone is safely through, Denae turns to look at you, surprised to find you still on the other side. “You’re not coming with us?”

“There’s something else I need to do. Follow the trade route to the west, and you’ll reach the blockade in no time. Your people can protect you from there.”

“Thank you.”

You feel strange accepting her thanks. “I’m sorry for what my people have done to yours. Maybe one day we will all be one people.”

“Peace will find a way.”

And as the two of you exchange a smile, an alarm begins to sound over the PA system, prompting Denae to turn and run, disappearing into the treeline with her people before Pike and his guards even know they’re gone. You let out a sigh of relief, because at least now, everyone is safe. Except for you.

-

“La lune, la lune, la lune.”

The name falls from Bellamy’s lips like a broken prayer as he sprints through the woods, back towards Arkadia, a necklace squeezed so tight in his grasp that a small silver moon will leave its imprint in his palm for hours after he lets go. 

He can hear footsteps crashing through the woods behind him, his sister and Kane calling his name as he tears through the woods on memory alone, letting his legs carry him back to the woman he loves. 

I only wanted to keep her safe. To protect her, and my people. I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong. 

When he bursts through the treeline, his eyes trace the arc of Arkadia looming high in the gray skies, rain starting to fall like the Earth knows what’s about to happen. Bellamy is sure that he can stop it, that he can convince Pike to save your life, even though he failed before. He’ll give himself in your place, accept that the bullet meant for you is actually for him, one shot to atone for his sins and wipe his slate clean. Because you deserve to live, to have peace and live life until you’re old and gray. You deserve a partner that loves you, and the comfort of knowing that you’ll always be safe with the people you love. You deserve all the things you’ve dreamed and longed for, and even if he can't be there to see it, even if he can't be there to give those things to you, he will sacrifice himself in your place.

Pike walks ahead of a group of guards, guards that Bellamy would have considered friends not two days earlier, guards that are now pulling his fighting girlfriend outside the main gate. 

Bellamy starts to run again, his legs moving on instinct to be with you, but strong hands pull him back, holding him in place with an iron grip, forcing him to watch from a distance. 

Your hands are bound; hands that he once spent hours holding, content just to be with you. Your hair is wild around you, the way it looks when you wake beside him each morning, tousled now from the way you’re fighting the guards. And the necklace that would normally be glinting in the light around your neck is now gripped so tightly in his hand that blood begins to seep between his fingers. 

He wants to turn to Kane and Octavia, scream that they have to save you, that they have to let him go so he can take your place, but he is frozen as he sees you pulled before Pike, the chancellor’s hand already resting on the gun at his side. 

-

Pike is too much of a coward to kill you in the middle of Arkadia. 

You guessed as much, but once he dragged you towards the back of camp, out of sight from the rest of your people, you started to fight, deciding that going with grace only worked if there was someone there to see it. 

The people of Arkadia will know what happened to you, even though Pike tries to hide it. 

Once you are pulled through the gate and into a patch of land just outside Arkadia’s walls, you finally stop your fight. It’s almost over. Everyone you love is outside the camp, except your mother, who will have no idea what’s happened until after you’re gone. You can only hope she remembers her promise to you and Kane, and that she doesn’t risk her life when Clarke still needs her. 

You thought you’d be scared, but you aren’t. You swear it’s because your father is with you, his cologne easy to spot amongst the smell of dirt and pine. He’s keeping you standing tall and strong, giving nothing to the man that will soon take your life. A man that he once played chess with, long ago on a ship in the sky, long before anyone knew that a life on Earth was possible. 

When you had nothing but time while locked up, you anguished over all the things you were going to lose. Now, as the clock ticks towards the end, you think only of the things that give you joy. You think of Clarke when you were both small, of the pictures she would draw and leave on your pillow to find in the morning. You think of Octavia, the timid girl that became a warrior and your friend, making you more proud than you thought possible. You think of Monty’s moonshine and your mom’s laugh and most of all you think of Bellamy. 

You think of the freckles dotted across his face, the ones you would trace for hours as he slept beside you. You think of his lopsided grin, and the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you needed it. You think of how he gave you strength when you had none, the way he laughed when he thought no one was paying attention. You think of him in the quiet moments, the in between, when his face was serene with sleep or his shoulders finally relaxed at the end of a long day. You think of Greek gods, constellations, and the Iliad, of all the stories that tied the two of you together. 

And your final wish to the Universe as you turn to face Pike, is that Bellamy Blake will no longer be lost. 

-

You stand tall as they turn you to Pike, your stance confident, despite the situation you’re in. 

You don’t drop to your knees when they ask you too, making the guards get their hands dirty instead as they push your knees into the mud beneath you. 

You don’t flinch when Pike pulls out his pistol and cocks it. 

Your eyes never leave his as his finger moves to the trigger. 

The last words to ever leave your lips falls on ears that don’t understand the meaning. 

“I love you more than the stars.”

And you swear the last thing you hear before everything goes dark, is a scream that sounds a lot like Bellamy. 

-

Bellamy feels like the scream is splitting his throat apart, his anguish so raw, so palpable, that he’s sure he must be bleeding. 

He can’t understand that he’s okay, that the pain he’s feeling isn’t one that can ever be seen. He’s sure that it will kill him, that his heart will refuse to carry this and simply stop. He thinks that will be the greatest mercy, the way to reunite again with you. 

He doesn't remember Kane and Octavia pulling him away from the clearing, trying to escape the Arkadian guards that now know where they are. He doesn't remember punching the walls of the cave until his hands were nothing but blood and torn flesh, doesn't remember the screams that tore from his throat until Kane slipped Reaper drugs into his veins. 

He slips unconscious in a fit of anguish, surrounded by friends who wonder how they will share the news of your death to your other half if this is how Bellamy reacts. 

They have to keep someone on guard duty all night, because Bellamy tries to escape three separate times, swearing he’s going to kill Pike with nothing more than his bare hands. 

He has to be chained up when they kidnap Pike and deliver him to the Grounders, ending the blockade. He fights the restraints for hours, until his wrists are just as bloody as his hands once were, and only when he’s finally exhausted every ounce of strength in his body does he finally fall asleep. 

And when he dreams, he dreams of you. 

-

@anoddsightcomeoutatnight

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake said: *sender slowly reaches for receivers hand, interlacing her gloved hand for the first time with receiver before silently looking forward once more* / hvh blake siblings

it both felt unreal and far too real at the same time to have finally found his little sister. after far too long searching for her to no avail, coming across dead end after dead end, losing that hope that he would find her alive and then finding those recordings of what she went through in the hands of hydra. in a way the little sister he had grown up with, known and love had died. there was no way for her to survive something as gruesome, evil and torturous as she went through and though she was here now, he was silently grieving her.

the octavia who stood beside him now he didn't know, not entirely. of course he still loved her but after the year apart, she was a stranger to him most of the time. cold, cautious, vengeful. the light in her eyes dulled and it killed him how far she had been torn from the little rebelious wild spirit he had known.

it was late and while the rest of their group had either gone to bed or were inside, bellamy had wandered out and around the side of nick's ex's giant home. the air was cooler at night and despite the homes size he felt stuffy in there. lighting up a cigarette, he held it to his mouth, looking out along the vast property as his thoughts cycled through his mind causing his dark eyes to grow distant and his brows to furrow in grief.

bellamy wasn't sure how much time had past when he noticed octavia had come to join him, blinking away the turmoil as he glanced over at her in a gently cautious and surveying manner. "hey," he murmured quietly, a puff of smoke escaping. her non-verbal nod had him hold back a sigh, watching how tense she was, how those dull green eyes monitored their surroundings with quick darting motions. he fell silent, letting the air settle between them and after a moment he offered her his cigarette. "i'm not condoning this..." he murmured with a small smile as she took it a moment before handing it back.

he wasn't sure what to say, everything he thought felt like it would fall short. to tell her she was safe, it was clear she didn't believe it nor did she want to. that things would get better, because would they? after all that happened to her, could they? he felt as though he had failed her. even though she was standing here with him now, it had taken too long, he had failed at protecting her. his jaw clenched as he stared up at the moon, emotions fighting inside him like colliding winds. guilt twisted in his heart before it lurched in his chest at the graze of soft leather.

slowly gloved fingers laced with his and that tornado of emotion only seemed to expand as an ache in his chest. he caught her gaze for just a brief moment, his dark eyes shining both with grief but also a small gleam of hope. gently, he squeezed her hand before the both of them glanced back up at the sky until the clouds hid the moon from them and his cigarette was nothing but a nub.

[okmcintyre]

[arkofblake]

a man you simp for!

thats a LOOOOOOONG list but i'll give you a lil to choose from lol (these are in no particular order and this is also extremely difficult for me)

bellamy blake

jonathan byers

nathan scott

benedict bridgerton

anakin skywalker

bucky barnes

i try to choose one from every fandom but i have so many fandoms that i had to limit it to these 6 lol

[tiredg0ds]

wildflowers   brush   against   his   calves.      they   stood   amidst   the   flowers   that   flourish   in   the   gardens   outside   volterra.      it   was   dark,   obviously.      even   though   there   are   walls   that   line   the   gardens,   it   was   still   safer   for   demetri   that   way.      their   conversation   had   begun   to   wane,   falling   off   into   a   comfortable   silence   until…   

@fyllakas: ❛   a   golden   cage   is   still   just   a   cage   ❜

gaze   snaps   upwards   ,   staring   at   demetri   with   a   look   of   confusion   etched   across   features.      over   time   ,   bellamy   had   started   to   understand   that   demetri   felt   trapped   here.      it   had   taken   time   to   come   to   this   realization,   because   on   the   surface   demetri   seems   perfectly   content   with   his   current   placement.      but   that   wasn't   the   case.      if   it   weren't   for   reasons   unknown   to   bellamy   ,   demetri   wouldn't   stay   here.   fingers   tremble   as   they   lift   ,   brushing   over   demetri's   shoulder.      a   comforting   touch,   he   hopes.         

❝         if   i   could   free   you,   i   would.         ❞  

[profanepurity]

No pressure at all but mayhap you have wholesome Secondo and Bellamy content lying around. These two are just so cute and you were 100% correct and valid for making Secondo a daddy’s girl, this man’s gives off the vibe that he would spoil his daughter to the point of making Diana mad

(also I hope midterms are finally over and you’re doing ok and get to rest. I’m spending only the best vibes your way

Of course! You're so right, Secondo spoils his little baby a ridiculous amount. He simply is incapable of saying no to her (if it's anything material. If she asks to play outside of the church grounds or with a ghoul that's not in his immediate circle of advisors, guards, or band members, the answer will always be no. Secondo would put Bellamy in a bubble if he could).

Diana usually thinks it's sweet, and a bit amusing to see her stoic, cold Papa melt into a soft, loving man when it comes to their daughter. She does think it's a bit excessive at times, but Diana would much rather allow her lover to suffer the consequences of his own actions, as she finds that to be a much sweeter punishment.

For example, Diana had softly reminded Secondo that Bellamy did not need every single plushy she looked at. But Papa justified it by saying the bigger ones were for decoration, since he didn't want her childhood bedroom to feel like a white, suffocating study room (he's totally not projecting). He also may or may not be slightly jealous that she loves her stuffed rat, Lumaconi, that Copia got her so much.

Papa didn't take into account that whenever Bellamy would come into their room to sleep with them that she would bring every single one of those plushies with her.

Now he can't sleep. This man has to be up in 2 hours to go be a satanic pope.

(Thank you so much for the positive vibes Bamboo! Midterms have passed, but I'm unfortunately going to be quite busy for the next two months. I'm in the last semester of my BFA, and I'm neck deep in work for my undergrad thesis. I may be gone for short periods of time here and there, but I have no intention on leaving! I am actually extremely excited to show you guys little peaks of what I've been working on in the next few days. I have something coming out at the end of this month that I hope you guys will enjoy as well. It has to do with the origins of a particular sister of sin 🖤)

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

Hi. I was looking for a Bellarke fic on ao3 and I wanted to reach out since I feel like you’d know which one since you’re a huge Bellarke fan

It’s basically a fic where I believe Clarke and Bellamy meet in this bar, its kind of a dystopian/futuristic fic and they are forced to get married. I know Bellamy has like a ship and they are rebels, where Clarke joins them and they end up killing I think Josephine’s finance. Bellamy’s father ends up being this leader of the country and it turns out Bellamy is his son.

I remember reading it a while back but I can’t seem to find it. All the help would be appreciated!

Oh wow I wish I could help, that sounds like an awesome story!! I'm not sure I've heard of it though (though now I definitely want to read it as well).

Any of my Bellarke mutuals recognize the sound of this AU?

Update! It looks like it's "Saint of Lost Causes" by TotalBellarkeTrash! Not currently on AO3 anymore/at this time.

[misscherry-26]

something where the reader and Bellamy are good friends and partners as guards but there’s some underlying tension and feelings involved. Cute flirting and teasing?

Between Guard and Heart

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Author's Note: Hi!!! Thank you for this request. I tried to make an open ending in terms of not both confessing their feelings but leaving a hint of something between them. I hope you enjoy it!

There could be grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language

You met Bellamy on the first day of your job as a guard on the Ark. It was funny because it was also his first day. You remember it as if it was yesterday. 

You hurried down the narrow corridor, nerves buzzing in your chest, you nearly crashed straight into him. The clipboard you were holding flew from your hands, papers scattering across the metal floor.

“Easy there,” he commented with a smirk, bending down to help you gather them.

You shot him a look, trying to steady your breathing as a small, nervous smile tugged at your lips as you gathered the rest of the papers. “Thank you.” 

Your hands trembled slightly, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“If you needed an excuse to talk to me, you could’ve just said so.” He adds teasing you. 

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you quickly glanced away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck. “Right, because tripping into cocky guards is exactly how I planned to spend my first day,” you replied, the words coming out a little shakier than you intended.

He chuckled, standing up and offering you a hand to help you to your feet. “First day, huh? Same here. Looks like we’re both a little out of our depth.”

The revelation caught you off guard, and your nerves spiked again, though for a different reason. “Yeah? You sure don’t seem like it,” you muttered, trying to focus on anything but the way his hand felt warm and solid in yours as he helped you up.

Bellamy flashed you a crooked grin, holding onto your hand just a second longer than necessary. “Guess I’m just good at faking it.”

After that encounter, you and Bellamy grew closer, especially when you were partnered up on the same monotonous shifts, in which you two shared a lot in common. From everyday thoughts to what the two would do if earth was habitable…the two of you complement each other. Still, you sensed that Bellamy kept something to himself. You never asked, nor pushed him to tell you about it. Until one day…

You and Bellamy used to reunite at your house every week to hangout and chat, but today he didn’t knock on your door. You thought maybe he would be late. But after an hour, you got worried. It wasn’t like him to ignore you. So you decided to go to his house. 

You’d knocked once, but there was no answer. After a second knock, you hesitated, then heard a soft rustling from inside.

“Bellamy?” you called out.

But you got no response. You leaned on the door and this one moved slightly. That worried you. It wasn’t usual to have their doors unlocked. you pushed it open and stepped inside, closing it just a bit. 

But as you took another step, you froze. There, hiding in the corner behind a shelf was a girl—her eyes wide, filled with fear, and her face pale in the dim light. You stared at her, heart pounding in your chest. 

Before you could say anything, Bellamy appeared in the doorway, his face pale.

His eyes darted between you and Octavia, panic tightening his features. Closing and locking the door, he stepped in front of her protectively, his voice low and urgent.

“Look, I can explain—just don’t say anything,” he blurted out, his usual confident tone cracking with worry.

You knew then. She was his sister. 

You stood there for a moment, not knowing exactly what to say. This was why he was so protective, why he always avoided certain topics.

“I won’t.” You said softly, meeting his eyes. 

You then walked and stopped in front of the little girl, extending your hand in a friendly way.

“Hi, I’m Bellamy’s friend.”

His sister smiled and shaked your hand. She was intimidated at first, used to seeing only his brother and mother. Bellamy’s sister takes a look at him, as if to confirm she was one to trust. His brother nods.

“I’m Octavia.”

From that day forward, things changed. You began visiting Bellamy and Octavia more often, bringing small gifts to brighten her secluded life—ribbons, a book, and once even a small trinket you’d found. You’d sit with her, telling stories about what it was like outside, sharing everything she longed to know. You could see the awe and wonder in her eyes as she listened, soaking in every detail, and it warmed something deep inside you.

Bellamy often stood at the side, watching quietly, his heart swelling with every laugh or smile you brought to his sister’s face. He’d never seen anyone be so kind, so genuine with Octavia. You didn’t have to do any of this, but you did, and that meant more to him than words could express.

The more he watched, the more his feelings for you deepened. He’d always admired your strength and determination, but now, seeing you with Octavia, those feelings took root in a way that left him reeling. You were everything he didn’t realize he needed—honest, generous, and completely selfless when it came to the people you cared about.

“Careful,” you teased one day, catching him watching you from across the room. “You keep staring at me like that, and I’ll start charging you.”

Bellamy scoffed, trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah? I didn’t realize I had to pay for someone to distract my sister all day.”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Distract? Please. You’re just jealous because I’m better company than you.”

Bellamy leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Better company, huh? You really think I can’t hold my own?”

You shrugged, flashing him a teasing smile. “Well, it’s not hard when the competition spends most of his time brooding in a corner.”

“Brooding?” Bellamy repeated with a chuckle, stepping closer. “I prefer to call it ‘thinking.’”

“Right,” you quipped, leaning in slightly. “And here I thought you were just admiring the view.”

He faltered for just a moment, the playful banter giving way to something a little deeper, a little more intense. But he quickly recovered, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. 

“You wish.”

Before you could respond, Octavia called your name, breaking the moment. You turned, your focus shifting back to her as Bellamy watched quietly, his teasing expression softening. The way you treated his sister—like she was just another girl, not a secret to be hidden away—meant more to him than he could say.

The more he watched you with Octavia, the more his feelings for you deepened. He’d always admired your strength, your quick wit, but seeing the way you treated his sister—You were everything he didn’t realize he needed—honest, generous.

But then, everything changed.

Your bosses changed your shift and you found yourself temporarily partnered with Elliot, another guard. Until his partner recovered, you were assigned to cover his rounds. It was standard procedure, nothing unusual. But somehow it shifted between you and Bellamy.

Elliot was easy to get along with, the two falling into an easy rhythm. 

But for Bellamy, it didn’t look like that.

It started with the smaller things, he would catch you laughing or talking animatedly with Elliot and a strange knot would twist in his stomach. He reminded himself that it was nothing, that you just were being friendly. But the more he saw, the harder it became to ignore. You and Elliot seemed too close, and that bothered him.

With your new shift change, you weren’t able to visit the Blake’s as frequently as you used to. You wanted to tell Bellamy about it—you missed Octavia—but every time you tried to call him, he would simply look away and leave. At first you thought he was stressed or distracted.

But days turned into weeks and so on. You couldn’t understand it. Why was he acting like that?

One day, you cornered him when he finished his patrol, frustrated and confused. You hadn’t seen Bellamy in days, it wasn’t like him, something was wrong, and you needed to know why.

“Bellamy!” you called, following him down the corridor.

He glanced over his shoulder, his pace quickening. You caught up to him, grabbing his arm.

 “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.” He stiffened under your touch, his expression cold. 

“Don’t give me that” You step in front of him, blocking his path. “You’ve barely spoken to me. You act like I don’t exist. I don’t know what I did, but you need to tell me.”

His jaw clenches, eyes flickering with frustration—jealousy. He shakes his head. 

“Look, I’ve got a lot in mind, okay? Just focus on your new partner—it seems like you and him get along just fine.”

“You think something’s going on with me and Elliot?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve been ignoring me because of him?” You pushed, stepping closer, “wait—are you jealous?”

He scoffs, refusing to look at you. “ I’m not.” 

You take a deep breath, your voice softening.

 “Bell, there’s nothing going on between him and i. We are just friends, that’s it. Whatever you are thinking—you’re wrong.”

His eyes meet yours then, flickering with something—relief, maybe. 

You let out a soft sigh and smile, gently shaking your head side to side.

“You can be so stubborn sometimes” 

For a moment, Bellamy doesn’t say anything, his eyes still locked on yours, the tension slowly starting to unravel. His shoulders relax, just a little, and you can almost see the weight lifting from him.

“You really think I’d just replace you like that?” you ask softly, stepping closer, your tone teasing but your gaze sincere. “You’re not that easy to get rid of.”

Bellamy chuckles, but it’s a quiet, almost self-conscious sound, his guard slipping just a bit more. “Guess I’ve been an idiot, huh?”

You nod, your smile widening. “Just a little.”

For a second, neither of you moves. Then, without overthinking it, you close the distance between you, resting your hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to push me away, Bell,” you say gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looks at you for a long moment, then nods, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, the vulnerability clear.

There’s a beat of silence, the kind that feels like a quiet promise between you both. And though nothing else is said, it’s enough for now.

[simlit]

3, 6, 7, 9, 13, 19, 22, 24, 25, for VEN

What is your OCs fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

In his current state? Probably his selflessness. He gives too much to people and has a hard time drawing lines if it's someone he deeply cares about. Case in point, letting Naida more or less railroad the entire family into chasing the Fountain of Youth. In his defense, Naida isn't really someone you can win fights against, but considering the dangerous nature of the voyage, one would think he should have fought against it a lot harder. I do think he's aware of it, but not in a way he can actively check, because it's a lot of him overcompensating for the way he used to be and the things he's done. So I guess a larger and probably more fatal flaw is the fact that he carries around so much guilt and does a lot in the name of reparations.

How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

Easily, but tbh I feel this is one thing Ven shares with Kato. His morals can be bent depending on who is involved and the consequence of the situation. Ven isn't standing on moral highground in the first place, despite understanding right and wrong well enough. He certainly doesn't care enough about authority not to break rules, and as far as life or death is concerned, a life will always matter less to him if they're at odds with someone he loves. That being said, I think he's resourceful enough to find ways around making risky choices.

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Also a really fun question, cuz I haven't thought about it in years LOL. Though Ven stayed mostly the same from conception, he was supposed to be a bit more "roguish" even after his Reaper years. More of the typical pirate: loose, unkempt and thieving. But he ended up being way more charitable and straightlaced than I'd initially planned, but that ironed itself out almost immediately so I don't really consider it to have been "the plan" just "what I had had in mind at some point" lmao. Now the idea of Ven sleeping around with literally anyone is goddamn baffling to me.

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

Every single word of his theme song, "The Balancer's Eye" by Lord Huron, but all of this: Nothing's waiting for us in the great sky Life is equal to dust in the Balancer's eye Now I know that I can't lift an old curse Tell me, how does a man change the universe? Will I ever be forgiven for the crime of my life? Will it haunt me till I die? To the end of time?

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

I think Ven is one of the few characters I can genuinely answer "yes" to this question lmao. Just because Ven is hands down the least judgmental of my OCs, not to mention packing all that charisma, he can literally talk to anyone. Although I probably would just be dead on the floor so it wouldn't be a very interesting conversation.

How does your OC behave when enraged?

We so rarely see Ven angry. Honestly, a bit like Kyrie, Ven has a quiet temper. He's good at restraining himself now, because he knows intimately well just how horrible of a person he can be, so he makes a concerted effort never to let anything get him that upset. Mostly, things don't anger him as much as he may be disappointed or saddened. There is one scene in OST:O I've had planned for years that actually showcases Ven's true anger and it is very much "silent and lethal" lmao.

What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

Oof, I dunno, somewhere between neutral good and chaotic neutral. Hard to pinpoint lol

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone done? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

Oh, this one is interesting. I think Ven could have easily continued down the path he started on when he got the sight. That is, had he not been able to pull himself back from that maniacal person he'd become as consequence, he'd be unrecognizable today. That's not to say he isn't already because he absolutely was that person for a moment in time. The Reaper King wasn't just a persona, it was his entire essence. He was ruthless, violent and he did very literally kill dozens (I won't say 100s but it's up there) of people. We like to imagine him as the loving father and perfect husband he is now, but outside of maybe Elsera he's my OC with the highest bodycount. And while in a way you could justify he killed people because "they deserved to die" he was never in the right to pass that judgement. Had he not eventually woken up from that state of trauma and derangement, he'd still be a completely unstable murderous lunatic .-.

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

How hot he is. The end.

[bellamyblake]

What if Clarke did run Bellamy over with the truck/rover?

I'm pretty sure you didn't expect a 2k short fic when you sent this question but *shrugs* That's me I guess. Sorry that it sucks!

She doesn't know how it happens, not really. She's trying to hit the break but the grounder is pressing hard against her other leg with the speed pedal. Then when Bellamy shoots him, his dead body falls on her and she loses grip on the wheel for a moment. She tries to turn it left away from him but then there's a moment there where she knows she'll crash right into the rover and she begs, she begs he pulled away before she hurt him in any way.

God, she didn't want to kill him!

She thinks that she can see him fold in with the corner of her eye. What she doesn't think through is the fact that the crash is so strong, she basically runs the rover over and makes it roll on it's right side. The truck hits it hard and she tries to push on the break but it apparently has stopped working because she can hear the awful sound the two vehicles make against the ground as she drags the rover with Bellamy in it at least another mile before it finally stops.

Clarke wants to run, her one thought is 'Get to him! Make sure he's okay!' but when all motion finally gets to an end, she herself needs a minute to figure out her surroundings before she can push the door open.

Even that is a struggle because her whole body is heavy, though she doesn't feel like anything's wrong and she doesn't see any blood on herself. It takes her a lot to slip off the grounders' body and finally move out. She's unsteady on her feet and she has to take a few deep breaths before she can rush to the truck.

When she does, Clarke can't even get into it. The door he left open is folded in and she has to be careful trying to slip inside. She also notices the distinguished smell of smoke and fuel and she realizes the rover will burst into flames any second now and that she has to get him out.

"Bellamy! Bellamy-" she calls him out frantically when she manages to get in and sees him folded in inside with his back to her, he looked normal, as if he was sleeping and at first she thinks he just is a little lightheaded, that nothing's wrong but then her hand slips to his side and she finds blood and when she tries to move him away, she sees that the right side of his face is bruised and bloody, his eye is swollen shut, there's a piece of metal sticking from his leg, just at the knee and his side too.

He's really hurt, she realizes as she searches for pulse on his neck and when her fingers find the weakest trump there is, she cries out and looks up at the sky praying to whatever's out there in the universe to keep him alive.

It takes her everything to get him out of there. He is absolutely motionless as she moves him. He should hurt, moan, scream, beg for her to stop his pain but he doesn't, which scares her and makes her realize things are really serious.

Once they're out on the beautiful soft green grass that it's in such contrast with his state, the vehicles burst in flames and she watches the rover get swallowed by them.

That's when she starts crying, she's so afraid-he's very hurt, leaving a trail of blood behind and she thinks he'll die. She tries to call out, get some help, she begs but then she figures she's all alone. Roan was nowhere to be seen and the others were too far away from them.

Clarke moves another feet away from the burning vehicles and positions his head in her lap. She tries to stroke the blood out of his face.

It's not like she hadn't seen him bruised and stained with red before, she had, many times and she remembers how badly his sister had beaten him just a few months ago. The scars were still there, little crescends under his eyes or on his cheeks, they were visible and not yet healed. She had managed to add more to it.

She had killed him with this. Because she was too weak, because she could've listened when he asked her once a few weeks ago if she wanted him to show her how the truck really works, so she had a better understanding of it. If she did, she would've been able to control the truck and would've tried to figure out how to stop the grounder.

"I'm sorry." she whispered as she tried to clean the blood from the side of his face. He wasn't gasping, wasn't struggling, his whole right side was hurt, his arm looked so unnaturally crooked beside him, his leg twistted with the metal protruding from his leg, another piece jammed in his ribs. He had gotten hurt, squished by the rover and its parts completely. "I'm so sorry, Bellamy." she cried and her tears fell down over his face.

He didn't deserve this. He shouldn't die like this, because of her. He had always given out so much of himself to help her, to get her where she needed to be and she had failed to help him.

She leaned over, her hair tickled his sides as he gurgled, struggling for air, he couldn't breathe, his pulse was weak.

This was going to be the end. She knew it, she lived it with Finn when she stabbed him and he jerked forward, falling in her arms despite being tied up to that pole.

Now Bellamy was resting against the ground that was going to soon swallow him whole and she had to bear witness to it. She hoped he wouldn't mind it, that it would be okay, he always did love it here. She had caught his tiny smiles when they were out in the forest hunting or gathering herbs or wood. He was so happy looking up, seeing the sun shine on the leaves, the tree, the grass.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry-" she kept crying and then a beat.

His hand on hers, weakly squeezing her.

"Clarke?" he choked on the words and she pulled away. He looked awful, so white, so broken. He...he couldn't breathe well, he was dying and it was all because of her but he was looking up at her, trying to catch her eyes. Something in his own flickered, he looked confused...no, worried. Worried about her. "Are you...are you..." he tried to ask and her heart squirmed in her chest.

"It's okay. You'll be alright, I'm getting help!" she promised and tried to smile at him. He was there, he was awake, even if for a brief moment. "It'll be fine." suddenly she remembered, they had a radio, she could get her mom, Raven, the rest of them to come here, to save him, he just had to linger a little while longer.

He smiled...it was as if he knew perfectly what was happening. She looked around and actually saw it has rolled off from the truck and was just an arm's reach out! She couldn't believe she was so dumb as to not think of that sooner.

But then he caught her hand and squeezed it tigheter again. He was smiling at her, his stupid broken self was smiling.

"Hey-" he coughed, blood spilled from his mouth, he must have had internal bleeding. "Hey, princess." he greeted her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

"I'm so sorry" she started blurting out "I didn't mean to, I tried to stop the truck but failed! I...I-" she began choking on her words and crying. He furrowed his eyebrows at that.

"I'm fine." he lied and he said it so calmly that if he wasn't there right before her eyes, she would've believed him. He was that convincing. "I'm all good...all good, princess." she cried out and he tried to reach out and wipe her tears which he managed at least until his arm fell back down and his head lolled to the side.

She screamed his name out then! Tried to shake him, get him to look at her but he had passed out. That's when her mind started working and she remembered that she was thinking about the radio just a moment ago. She moved left and grabbed it, then pressed the buttons and honestly...she doesn't remember what she said but she knew she was panicked and that she was crying badly, something she usually didn't do.

From there on everything goes in motions. Clarke feels just like she did after Finn died as if she wasn't inhabiting her own body. Something inside her tears apart-she feels like his life's slipping in her hands while they wait for help but then it doesn't.

Roan and Raven come in to the rescue with another truck, they help put Bellamy in and get them to Becca's lab in ten minutes.

Turns out they were this close before they crashed...

Her mom waits for them by the entrance, she gets help from Luna and Emori, Murphy and Roan are the ones who move Bellamy's lifeless body on one of the cots. He's very bad, Clarke's not sure he's even breathing anymore but she kept staring at his chest on the way there and she know it barely rose up and down while they travelled.

She doesn't remember anything anyone said, she just turned around and went right back outside, she knew he'll die, she didn't want to be there for it which was really cowardly of her and she was well aware of it. If there was one thing she owed Bellamy Blake, it was to hold his hand as he took his last breath and yet she couldn't.

Maybe because deep down she knew that if she saw that, she wouldn't be able to take another one herself.

She'll say goodbye to him later when it was just the two of them and no one else to see her stroke his face, apologize and tell him he's been good, always and that she loved him...has always loved him.

When a few hours later they find her there, they tell her he's alive and stable. It's Raven...she thinks, that's doing all the talking, she doesn't know, can't register it.

They tell her to go in, her mom was going to explain so she follows through with the motions. Her mom hugs her and squeezes her arms tightly.

"He's really hurt." she says and Clarke remembers she almost raised an eyebrow, she expected her to say that he's dead, that's what Abby's expression was all about anyway, wasn't it?

"I took out the metal parts sticking from his leg and side, thankfully I don't think there's internal bleeding but he broke his ribs badly and it took me a bit to fix it. His shoulder was dislocated too, his wrist is broken and I can't tell what that piece of metal did to his leg but it cut his leg from the back to the front right under his kneecap so he'll probably struggle to walk for a while until I can figure out exactly what's wrong there. He's got a light concussion too and I worry about infection but we got antibiotics here so let's hope they work its way through his system."

Clarke kept staring at her completely dumbfounded, not saying anything really.

"Clarke? Are you okay, honey? I want to check on you too, you could've gotten hurt as well." she shook her head and pulled away from her mom's arms.

"He's...alive?" she couldn't recognize her own voice, it wasn't hers, she wasn't there, standing in Becca's nice and perfectly looking lab listening to her mom talk about Bellamy. It was someone else, a ghost of her.

"Yes." Abby confirmed as she looked at her worriedly "I think he was just kneeling at a good angle, it helped cushion some of the crash. He's got a long road of recovery ahead of him but he'll be fine." Clarke nodded-time.

They didn't exactly have that now, did they? The world was ending and he was badly hurt, she had made it impossible for him to walk, to try and fight this off. But that didn't matter, she'd take care of him, she'd make sure he made it even if she didn't.

"Can I see him?" she asked, again, not really understanding much of what her mom was saying just that he was bad and that she was the reason he's so hurt.

Abby leads her out of the lab and into a whole different setting that looked more like the inside of a house would in the movies they watched on the Ark. They climb a set of stairs and head down a small hallway to the last door as he mom explains they moved him there because it was the only place spacious enough to set up all the medical equipment she needed to keep track of his state.

He was lying on his back, stripped of his clothes, with a warm brown blanket covering him up to his stomach while his chest was wrapped in so many bandages, Clarke realized they were probably enough to keep the cold away from now.

His head was bigger too, wrapped in another tight perfectly white bandage. There was a machine beeping on his right, Clarke saw the small plastic circles attached to his chest, the BP cuff on his arm, the oxygen cannula in his nose. He looked so pale and yet he was Bellamy. Her Bellamy.

"I'll give you some space. He's sedated so he won't wake up but if he does and is in pain, you can call me. Keep a close eye in case his BP or breathing changes in any way. I'll come back soon." her mom promised, touched her shoulder again and walked to the door.

She sat down on the chair to his left and reached to grab his good hand-the other was tucked to rest over his chest, wrapped up in bandages and gauze. Clarke remembered her mom said it was dislocated, there was a cast on his wrist too...he had so many bruises, it made her want to somehow use her brushes, the once she had back home that he found her in some bunker, and paint over them, hide them away, heal them. Then use the blue color to paint them over her own body and with it take the pain away.

She bowed her head and cried, whispering how sorry she was until she passed out. At some point, much later at night, he woke up with a whimper, arching his back and gritting his teeth. She jumped and pushed him down.

"It's okay, you're alright. You were in an accident. I couldn't stop the truck and I ran you over. Do you remember?" he was confused for a minute but then he groaned and nodded. "You're safe now. You're really injured, though, you've got lots of fractions and a concussion but mom thinks you'll be okay. I'll go get her, so she can check on you." she said but he grabbed her wrist with his good hand and pulled her back to him.

"No." he whispered and looked desperately at her.

"Bellamy, you need help-"

"No." he mumbled, he was so tired, it hurt him to talk, it hurt him to do anything. "You." he said simply and before she knew what was happening, he was trying to pull away from her and make room on the bed. That made him groan loudly again but he did it before she could stop him and he tucked her hand again "You...you...here." he asked "Please?" she contemplated, afraid she may cause him more pain but then she sighed, kicked off her boots, threw her jacket on the chair and moved up to lay next to him.

She carefully snuggled right beside him, he wrapped his arm around her and she felt his heavy breathing against her chest. He hurt, it was clear that he did, he groaned and moved a little now and she placed her hand on his heart and talked to him quietly until he passed out again.

When he did, she felt herself falling asleep too, feeling warm and safe and for the first time since it all happened, like herself again.

[dragynkeep]

it struck me again that the that the grounders are a cult worshipping the commander/ glorified usb stick and at the time nobody (that i saw personally saw) noticed makes me insane

imagine if the writers realised that and had other characters noticed that Clarke was acting like a grounder because of the forced and isolated proximity to the cult and we talked about it

and of course not to mention season 7 and Bellamy but there are parallels there as well as he joined a cult after being exposed to it with forced and isolated proximity plus a few more things that i am sure to be missing

clarke's s3 journey is just so weird to see in retrospect because it's being framed as this "romeo + juliet" relationship that will then go on to determine the rest of her adult life & how the grounders are just like skaikru & bellamy / skaikru are totally in the wrong 100% rather than the entire situation just being a complete mess.

& no character shows this more imo than lincoln. lincoln dared to choose love & freedom over the clan he was born into, the clan that is utterly devoted to the commander & the cult religion they're all indoctrinated into & even in s3 when he is allies with clarke & lexa: lexa still has a kill order on him. lincoln cannot leave arkadia under threat of death which is one of the exact causes of his death. lincoln died because the cult he left ensured there was nowhere else he could run to without his life being in danger.

clarke going through that exact same isolation because she has no allies in polis beyond lexa, the one that she has this ooc & rushed relationship arc with that includes clarke having to kneel to her in front of everyone & then having her entire adult life revolve around this two day romance. it's all just so frustrating to see with clarke because this would be a pattern throughout the rest of her life & there is no one on her side wholeheartedly. they had to make bellamy extremely ooc also just so that he wouldn't help protect clarke in s5.

they, especially clarke, genuinely deserved better. & the grounders being glorified in the fandom is so weird to see considering as we've said, they're the epitome of a cult & only end up making characters lives worse.

[quinloki]

I see you have new ask game, those are always fun. I'm curious what you gonna come up with this one. 🙃

You'd think for a song I was alive when it came out, that I've listened to for a large portion of my life, that I have on my liked songs playlist and thus hear on a regular basis - I'd be able to assign a character relatively quickly.

There's some Eustass Kid in there, and some Sabo - maybe a lot of Sabo.

Real blood and feral and almost vampiric kind of Sabo.

Hm... Actually, Bellamy. Bellamy when he was balls deep in that Donquixote worship phase of his.

Not quite musical chairs

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake said: did you think i had it in me? / bell or grant & o

bellamy stood there, dark eyes wide in sick horror at the aftermath. he was no stranger to war, to death and all that surrounded it but this, the people who lay crumpled around her were as if they'd been siphoned off, dull grey, cloudy eyes and shriveled. it was like something out of fiction, as though hades had plucked their very soul from their vessel. but it wasn't hades standing there but octavia, trembling with what he couldn't tell was fear, exhaustion or fury. it had been over a year since he had seen his sister and what those monsters had done to her...

he swallowed thickly, jaw clenching as she slowly turned to face him and he quickly schooled his expression, concern overwhelming the unease of what his little sister has become. "o...." he began, taking a hesitant step forward as he examined her for any wounds, but no, he saw nothing and as his gaze finally met hers she spoke and he had to hold back the chill he felt running down his spine. did you think i had it in me? she asked him and he swallowed again, looking down at the bodies.

eyes closed tightly a moment as flashes of his young, innocent baby sister flashed before his eyes, of how horrified she had been every time she touched someone, how all she wanted was a cure, how she never wanted to hurt anyone with her ability. when eyes opened that was no longer the same girl and a part of him died a long with the memory of who she once was. he shook his head as he lifted his chin to keep his lips from trembling, not in fear, but in the intense grief and agony he felt for what has happened to her. "no," he said roughly, "but you shouldn't have ever needed to... i should have protected you..." tears stung in his eyes, "c'mon..." he then said in a gentle but rough voice, gloved hand reaching out for her, "there's nothing else for us here...."

his chest felt tight, lungs restructed with the tension that thrummed through him. he couldn't let the others know what she had done, whether these people deserved it or not he knew that they would look at her with fear, with caution, untrusting that she could do this to any of them if they angered her. "come on, i've got you..." he urged once more as he unfolded the blanket by him, wrapping it around her as he pulled her close, embracing her tightly. he gently cupped the back of her head as he looked over her shoulder, a single tear spilling down his cheek as his face twisted with grief.