#raven reyes/bellamy blake

[anjellaufeyson]

Hate with attraction - Bellamy Blake

I hated Bellamy and despised him since the beginning. He always had to counter my arguments and disagree with me on every move I made. Every step I took–he criticized. The feeling of hatred was mutual, I never failed to return the remarks he made.

           Bellamy brushed past as if I weren't there, yet he still managed to whisper, “You're falling behind.” 

           I picked up my pace as we walked through the forest. The whole hunting group was filled with all my friends–besides Bellamy. I shoved him almost into a tree, “Catch up soldier boy.” 

My best friend, Octavia turned around while walking, and Bellamy glared at me. “I get Bellamy is an ass but why can't you guys just get along?”

I could feel his stare on me, “Your brother started it on day 1 of coming back to earth. The power must’ve gone to his hollow head, can’t say more than that–” My words were cut off at the sound of arrows flying past us. 

“Grounders,” Bellamy yelled. 

Clarke and Monty spread out of their spot because that’s where most of the fire was, “Guys we have to split up! We all have intercoms so once it’s safe we’ll come back together.” 

Octavia reached for my hand but missed me by a couple of inches, an arrow grazed my palm and cut me, “Just go,” I yelled. She ran away but was hesitant. I was about to reach for my gun before a hand stopped me–Bellamy. 

“We have time to run, don’t waste your bullets.”

I crouched down with him so no one gets hurt again, “If you keep ordering me around, I’m about to waste one.” 

He groaned as he grabbed me and we both made a run for it, “Keep this shit up and maybe I’ll throw you to the grounders.” 

I pushed him off me as we walked into a tiny cave for cover, “I’d rather be with them than you,” I mumbled. 

“What was that princess,” he asked knowing he heard every word I said. His anger was pissing me off. He ripped a part of his shirt off and began wrapping it around my cut.

“I hate when you call me that.” He only called me that because my father is Kane and he won’t let go that I’m “privileged” just like Clarke. “I didn’t make the rules on the ship, It’s not my fault that–”

He pulled hard on the tie he was making causing me to wince in pain, “Don’t finish that sentence.” Bellamy glanced up at me then annoyingly back at my cut as he wrapped it to perfection–I hated how good he was at helping when I needed it. “I know it’s not your fault but your father and every privileged person on that ship let her die for what reason? Because she had one more kid?” 

“You know the rules,” I spoke lowly. It was a sensitive topic and even though I hated his guts and wouldn’t mind if he got floated, I did sympathize. I never liked what happened and the fact no one could have siblings. “The more space taken by more kids would’ve left us overpopulated Bell–” I paused when talking, his nickname Octavia slipped out so easily. 

He looked up at me whilst still holding my hand even though the t-shirt bandage was as good as it was going to get. “I’m sorry she was floated, but it was the rules. And you know the Ark was already overpopulated enough. That’s why they sent us down here in the first place, the stupid 100 who had to risk their criminalistic lives for the others.” This topic always got me upset, not sad but mad. My father, Jaha, and Clarke's mom, Abby, were all willing to risk our lives as if we were all test subjects. 

“We mean nothing to them, that’s why I was so hell-bent on making sure all of the 100 could survive.”

I rolled my eyes remembering this wasn’t a friend I was talking to, “No, Bellamy you wanted all of us to remove our locators so that you could make sure they didn’t come down here because your reckless ass shot Jaha. I understand it was for Octavia but don’t act as if you’re some hero.” 

He pressed down on my wound before dropping his hand, “I never said I was. You always think you’re better than me.” 

I went to punch Bellamy but he moved out of the way, I was always good at hand-to-hand, my father got me a trainer, one of the guards. I knew how to fight, shoot, plant, etc. I was built to survive as if he’s been planning this forever. I smiled as I ducked the attack he threw at me, “You can only stand your ground because of the training you and Lincoln did together.” I went to kick him but he caught my leg, kicks were the one thing I couldn’t get the hang of. 

“Learn to be faster, princess,” he had a tiny grin on his face as he twisted my leg so I was hopping. 

I’d never give him the satisfaction of beating me, I kicked my leg again and got out of his grip. I elbowed him and punched him. His lip began to bleed, he had a smile on his face as his finger touched his lip. “Better,” he whispered. 

I went to hit him again but he blocked it and turned me around and kicked behind my leg causing me to fall onto one knee. He grabbed my hair, not too rough to hurt me but enough to move my head so I’d look up at him. “Train more and maybe you’ll beat me.” 

Slowly I rose and hit him at his throat causing him to back up. Not hard enough to hurt him but enough so he’d fuck off. I regained enough strength to cause him to lose his balance, then I got him to hit his back onto the ground. I kept my knee on his chest as I looked down at him, “You’ll never beat me, Bellamy. And I don’t think I’m better than you–” Our breaths filled the cave, “I know I am.” 

I stayed with my knee on his chest until he gave me a look that I couldn’t comprehend. His lips parted and he moved in to kiss me. I don’t know why but I didn’t back away, I took my knee off of his chest slowly. His fingers slipped into my hair and he pulled me deeper in. He kissed me roughly and I could taste the hate he held for me. Then he pushed me with a betrayal of a smile, “Never let your guard down, princess.” 

I made myself look hurt, he stepped closer and I pulled him in for a kiss. He seemed hesitant but easily fell into it. I bit down on his lip causing him to wince in pain. He dragged his tongue along his bottom lip, blood was dripping more than before. 

I pushed him away from me, I hated him now more than before. But God, I’d kiss him again with hate once more if given the chance. “Never let your guard down, Bell.” 

Suddenly Octavia ran into the cave looking frantic, “Jesus, did the grounders attack you guys?” 

Bellamy and I shared a glance, I turned back to Octavia and smiled as if I wasn’t in pain. “No, no we made it out. Well not without one price to pay,” I said as I held my hand up. 

Octavia looked shocked, she now realized our words were no longer threats, they were promises. “Bellamy,” she said in confusion but also her annoyance was beginning to focus on both of us for being stupid enough to fight each other. “O,” he said while walking past her. I stopped walking so I could talk with Octavia. He turned to me and whispered, “Next time you won’t get off that easily.” I paused, next time?

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

from the flames | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season three — to signify the newly recognised alliance between the sky people and the grounders, a celebration is held within polis’ market square. a bonfire, alcohol, and the bawdy pulsation of drums is a sure-fire recipe for a stimulating night. add a watchful bellamy blake and his dancing muse into the mix, and, well… i’ll show you the consequences of such a potent combination.

pairing: bellamy blake x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: i haven’t recently been watching the 100 so the timeline and characterisation may be a little off. also, ik this took me a long ass time, but i’m gonna try and make sure the next two parts come out a little quicker <3 i love y’all!

word count: 2.5k

“People of Kongeda and Skaikru, tonight we gather as one, united by a common purpose and a shared future of alliance. Before us, this bonfire symbolises more than just a flame; it is a beacon of hope, an opportunity to cleanse old grudges and pain that has divided us for far too long.

“Let this fire signify a new beginning and serve as a reminder that unity is not our weakness, but our strength. Let it be known that from this day, we join not as enemies, but as allies, and anyone set upon spilling the blood of our allies is spilling the blood of us all. Let it be known: Jus drein, jus daun!”

“Jus drein, jus daun!”

As much as Lexa’s words intended to inspire harmony, the crowd massed below the second-floor balcony of the dominating tower she resided on reacted in any way but. Fierce declarations of worship were cried out; large fists were pumped in celebration; and misty clouds of brew and saliva were sprayed into the tepid night air.

All was well, for the first time since we landed on Earth.

“Happy Unity Day,” I murmured to myself, taking a sip from the metal cup in my hand. I was standing on the outer edges of the unruly crowd of dark, rugged figures, who were surrounding an unlit wooden mountain and raving as it abruptly burst into vociferous flames.

The monstrous tepee of sticks was raging at the centre of Polis’ trading square, an open area bordered with stalls and operating food vendors that infused the air with a salivating meaty aroma. Glimmers of light chipped away into the familiar starry night above and an orange ambience was cast throughout the square, seeming to blaze beneath the skin of those who orbited the fire.

It was a somewhat perplexing scene: to be together as one people, celebratingratherthan being at war with one another.

A pensive mechanic stepped in beside me, eyeing the mixed crowd of Grounders and Sky People.

Raven folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t you think the fact that the Ark originally had thirteen stations and the coalition now has thirteen clans is kind of…”

“Unsettling?” I finished for her. “Yeah. Probably best not tell these guys the story of how Polaris got blown out of the sky. Don’t want to give them any ideas.”

“Polaris… Polis…” she continued contemplating. “Think there’s anything equally unsettling about that?”

I looked at Raven. She looked back at me.

I sucked in a sharp breath—“I’m not drunk enough for this conversation”—and tipped the harsh contents of my cup down my throat. The liquid was molten in both its ferocity and colour and was infused with some potent earthly spice; it was a blow to the stomach upon consumption.

“Is that such a good idea?” Raven asked, judging me as my head craned back to capture the last few drops of throat-scorching goodness. “I’m all for pouring a glass when the occasion calls for it, but these people have stomachs lined with steel—what do you think yours is made of?”

I grimaced at the taste. “You tell me. You’re the genius.”

The roll of her eyes was deafening. “I’m just saying, they’ve probably spent decades perfecting their drinks to suit them, to match their tolerances. I mean, even that human fountain over there couldn’t handle it.” She nodded towards a cluster of barrels where a titan of a man wearing armoured shoulder pads and breastplates was hunched over, violently emptying his stomach onto the cobbled ground.

I swallowed my own stomach at the sight.

“I just assumed you wanted to spend the night somewhat differently,” she said, a sweet undertone of provocation twisting her words.

My brows furrowed, and I turned to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her lips twitched at the corners—never a good sign.

The thing was, I knew exactly what she meant. Her unspoken words had already been circling my mind for days, weeks, months even, increasingly accumulating with both heat and fervour.

As ironic as it was, I think it’s fitting to compare my situation to that of a star’s formation.

There I was, a delinquent sitting stagnant in a cold nebula of misery in the Sky Box, parted from my family and friends, sent hurtling to Earth to die, only then to have my cold, miserable cloud intruded upon by a fiery presence, a head of tousled brown waves and a pair of rich, dark chocolate eyes.

An awakener. An activator.

This intruder began filling my head with his words, his laughter, his brooding stare. The weight of his presence began to grow; thoughts of him consumed me. From the most surprisingly vulnerable conversations to even the tensest arguments, he had a heat inside me swirling and it was sweltering to unfathomable heights. It showed no signs of stopping.

Raven’s malevolent brown eyes were pointing plainly at something far behind me as if to answer my question. I knew what I would see even before turning around to look, but moronic as I was, I looked anyway.

Chin hovering over my shoulder, my eyes wandered through the scattered crowd of Grounders and Sky People alike that loitered the bonfire’s outskirts. There, sandwiched between Lincoln and an unoccupied trading stall, was a face that not only had my stomach contents lodged in my throat, but my heart as well.

Bellamy.

He was standing with his arms crossed, each one concealed beneath his distressed guard jacket. And although his stance screamed ‘Don’t talk to me,’ his face said otherwise. He and Lincoln were engaged in some high-spirited conversation, much unlike themselves (although the supply of drinks may have been to blame). Bellamy was speaking through one of his overconfident half-grins while alternating between gesturing to-and-fro with a single hand and tucking it back under his opposing bicep.

My chest was burning; the bonfire somehow must’ve seeped into my heart.

It should be stated here that when a nebula accumulates enough particles, it turns into a protostar—not a main sequence star like our sun, but something that holds the potential to be. At this point, the formation is at its most precarious. If a sufficient amount of mass is not acquired, the protostar will fail to stabilise and will cool into a brown dwarf, forever existing in the cold, lonely expansion of space as a reminder of what it could have been.

Bellamy’s head gravitated in my direction. Our eyes met through the asteroid belt of rugged figures between us. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned back around.

A reminder of what it could have been.

Sometimes I worry my insufficiency has damned me already.

“Oh, my god.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh my god, Raven, why would you put me through that?”

“In the hopes that you’ll finally grow a pair and do something about it,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink to conceal her smirk.

“About what?” Now I was just being evasive.

She let out a frustrated huff and folded her arms over one another. Her countenance was a reflection of impatience: the raised eyebrows, the slight downward tilt of her head, the pursed lips. I almost laughed at her theatricality; then again, I almost cried because I didn’t want the reason behind it to be true.

I wanted Bellamy Blake.

The confession was boiling inside me; it was burning the tip of my tongue, and I knew I had to let it out to cool. And if the words were never spoken to him, then they at least had to be expressed to someone else, even if I never admitted them in the exactness I felt, for the exact words would be so heinous, so—hedonistic, that if anyone were to hear them, I’d be thrown into lock-up for the rest of my days.

“Fine, I guess I’m… attracted to Bellamy,” I spoke slowly, cringing at my own words. Raven’s face immediately lit up like an overzealous Christmas tree, her smugly curved lips parting to no doubt release an incongruous stew of condemnation and encouragement, which I stopped before it could even start. “Anattraction that I am not going to act on, Raven; our friendship is rocky enough as it is. I mean,” I scoffed, “have I even told how we first met? I held a pocketknife to his neck our second night on the ground because he threatened to pry off my wristband in my sleep. And he actually tried! You know that tiny scar he has on his cheek? That was from me!”

“Yeah, sometimes I forget how much of a self-righteous dick he was for a while there,” Raven mused. Her face then screwed with confusion. “Wait, how did you two even become friends? Because when I came down, you were at each other’s throats every single day over one thing or another, and then out of nowhere, it was as if the slate had been wiped clean.”

Ah.

The day the slate had been wiped clean.

A thick blurriness blanketed my vision as my mind withdrew from the present. You know when you get run down with some kind of sickness and your mind gets all scrambled and foggy? Like a fever dream? That’s what that day seemed like to me. Too many unimaginable things had happened, too many emotions and losses were felt, and I’d only shared them with one person before.

“You still there?”

My gaze flickered to Raven momentarily. She was staring at me, half with impatience, half with concern. “Just—” I raised my hand slightly in front of me “—give me a second.”

I inhaled. One, two, three. And I exhaled. Three, two, one.

A vulnerable creature of some sort nestled in my brain, softening the tone of my voice as I hesitantly began, “It was the, uh, the day the Exodus Ship crashed. My dad was on it,” I said, my last words barely audible. “Knowing that he was gone was one thing, but watching the ship crash? That messed me up for a good while.”

Raven, taken aback, muttered her apologies. I just shook my head in return. I sucked in a sharp breath, forcing the memory into the cobwebbed corners of my mind, and then continued, “Bellamy had found me in the woods that night. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. I think that seeing me in such a vulnerable state forced him to set aside his asshole-ry for a while because he actually managed to… comfort me.”

I remembered the tone of his voice, so shockingly gentle yet hardened in his trademarked sort of way as he reassured me endlessly that I would be okay. I remembered the warmth of his body as I lay crumpled and sobbing in his lap on the forest floor, clinging onto his arm as if it kept me from plummeting into a bottomless pit. I remembered his hands, swiping away the thousands of tears that streaked my face, the hair from my eyes.

I remembered our brief conversation as we walked back to camp: “I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” he had said, to which I whispered, “Thank you,” and after a short pause, he spoke again, “We all need someone sometimes. I know we don’t have the best history together but… I can be that someone if you ever need,” and then, once more, with an unwelcome flutter in my stomach, I whispered, “Thank you.”

A small, bittersweet smile lifted my lips. My voice sounded distant to my ears as I continued speaking. “We still nicked at each other here and there after that—that tension between us has never really disappeared—but there was also this new mutual understanding. And somewhere from mutual understanding came a rough-around-the-edges friendship, and then friendship turned into something else.” I paused to recollect my thoughts. “Well, for me, at least.”

Between the moment I started speaking to the moment I stopped, my gaze had wandered sheepishly to the toes of my boots. I felt so exposed, like the outer layers of my being had been cracked open to reveal a part of my soul to a girl I hadn’t even known existed until two months ago. Suddenly I remembered why I didn’t drink often.

I stood awkwardly, waiting. The weight of my confession and vulnerability were looming above us.

Raven was quiet; she made no witty remark or tease. Her eyes had only softened with understanding, shifting back and forth as my words were mulled over in her brain. And it was only from her foreign silence that I realised what her next question could be: why don’t you just tell him?

I began, “I don’t want to ruin—"

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she finally interrupted, shaking her head as if to dismiss my unspoken sentiment. “The age-old ‘I don’t want to ruin what we have right now’. But what exactly is that?” Her eyes once again interrogated mine. “Because I’ll make it clear to you right now and say that what you two have is not just friendship. Come on. You and Bellamy?” She shifted her head to catch my drifting gaze. “Anyone with eyes can see something is there, but clearly, neither of you have a pair.”

Talk about tough love.

A harsh outflow of air exited my nose, and I pushed my hair back out of my face. Everything was much more complicated than I thought it was. Was I really as blind as Raven said? I would have already seen what she does if it were true, right? Did Bellamy really feel the same?

Am I drunk?

I glanced behind me once more, catching a glimpse of Bellamy tilting his head back to finish his drink, exposing the sculptured column of his neck. Heat flushed through my cheeks.

Christ. I couldn’t let this one go. There wasn’t a chance.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, still watching him.

An uproar of hoots and howls exploded throughout the square as the sound of drums and horns began to play, bringing my attention to the second-floor balcony of the Commander’s Tower where the noise floated down from. Drums pulsed with bawdy rhythm; horns bellowed with lewd backbone; a woman purred tribal vocalisations.

Bodies began swaying in disharmonious synchronisation around the bonfire, in pairs, in groups, individually. What tethered them was the raunchiness of their movements and the subtle carnality of their interactions with one another. I’d never seen anything like it; as I looked over at Raven and saw her similar intrigue, I knew she hadn’t either.

That was my mistake—to even acknowledge her in such a moment, especially after speaking about our previous topic. Her lips began stretching and stretching into a particularly wicked grin, and she turned to me. The devil was burning in her dark eyes.

Her answer to my question: “Give his eyes something to look at.”

part two

[scarringstars]

every episode: the 100 → murphy's law ↳ revenge isn’t justice.

[hd-junglebook]

The 100 Masterlist

More works for this are coming!!

if you have any questions or comments just ask :)

Neutral

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Diana Sydney's daughter is sent to the ground with 99 other delinquents. While her mother schemes for power and destruction aboard the Ark, y/n must navigate the harsh realities of survival on the ground. As she confronts her own trauma and struggles to define her morality in the face of chaos, she grapples with the ultimate question: Will she rise above her past and choose the path of goodness, or will her mother's influence shape her destiny and lead her down a darker path?

Season 1

Part  1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 6.5 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10

Edge Of Exile

Bellamy Blake x Reader

As the ark struggles to establish a new home on Earth, Y/N, a prisoner from flint station seems to be the only one who can save them from themselves. the group finds themselves thrust into a dangerous power struggle that threatens to tear the community apart. Faced with betrayal, deceit, and factions vying for control, Y/N must navigate a treacherous landscape of alliances and rivalries.

parts - prologue,  1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10 , 11 , 12

In the process of completing !

The Other Side

John Murphy x Reader

A grounder marked as a spy for the commander is tasked with the case of gathering intel on a group of survivors that fell from the sky. Falling for a member of this foreign group leads the clan into bloodshed.

Part 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Lost

A normal plane ride back home ends in shambles as the plane crashes on a remote island far from home. That last survivors band together to survive and uncover the secrets of the island.

Part 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

[moonylantsovs]

Heyyy can u plz write a season one Bellamy blake x reader griffin/Kane SMUT where they are enemies and leaders of the 100 but don't see eye to eye on anything but have too much sexual tension and attraction towards each other and decide to give into their desire for one night cause they think if they screw each other they get their attraction out of their system?

Invisible String [B.B]

summary: hating him was easier than loving him. especially when clarke went through so much trouble to keep them away from each other. but for some reason, her attraction to him was much larger than her dignity

pairings: bellamy blake x caroline griffin (oc) a/n: the oc has no description, so feel free to imagine whoever you wish, I just write better when the main character has a name

tags: (18+) wells jaha lives, cursing, the nickname "princess" cause it's kind of cringey but fits their dynamic, SMUT; hate sex, (kinda) dom!bellamy, dirty talk, hate sex, hair pulling

Hating Bellamy Blake was almost too easy.

He was too cocky for his own good and was even worse at listening to orders than Caroline. He had been tormenting her, her sister and Wells since they landed.

But a long time has passed since their first days on Earth. The camp was functioning well and Caroline and Clarke found a way to work with Bellamy. After a kid died and Murphy was banished after being accused of killing some privileged kid, they formed a truce. Bellamy was the one leading the hunting trips and watching over the delinquents who were building the wall, Clarke was in charge of keeping the peace with the Grounders (the liberty of her having a thing with their Commander) and Caroline decided who got which job and worked with Raven to make radios and get in contact with The Ark.

She was not that thrilled about her mother coming down because, before she got arrested, she was not exactly mother of the year. Still, she felt guilty about the innocent people who were dying up there while there was a safe planet waiting for them.

Caroline let out a sigh and stood up, instantly drawing Raven’s attention to herself. She wiped her sweat off of her face with a rag and placed it down on the table, before saying, “I think that I’m done for today. I have to discuss some stuff with Bellamy.”

Raven snorted and raised an amused eyebrow, her tone taunting. “Oh, I bet. So much for staying away from him.”

The Griffin rolled her eyes at the reminder of her sister’s warning and wordlessly walked out of their work tent. Bellamy was very blunt with his flirting when they weren’t spitting insults at each other and when he wasn’t sleeping with half of the camp. Caroline was slightly annoyed and brushed it off quickly, but Clarke was down-right pissed. Her protective older sister was on and she was quick to tell Caroline how bad of an idea getting involved with Bellamy was. Her lecture was at least five minutes long but Caroline did not listen to a word that she said. She was not stupid. She knew that even flirting with Bellamy was a bad idea, but she was not planning on it. She liked to believe that she had standards.

“Hey, Princess.” Bellamy greeted her when she entered his tent without knocking. “You’re early.”

“No, you just slept in.” Caroline deadpanned while scanning his bare chest with a blank look on her face while he sat on the edge of his makeshift bed. “Some of us have been up and working for hours.”

Okay, yes, Bellamy was an asshole. But he was a hot asshole. If you asked her, she would say that the fact that he was annoying only made him more attractive. But that might just be her daddy issues talking.

He furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “Shit, is it really late?”

“Yeah, it’s almost lunch.” She shrugged and walked across his tent to grab one of his shirts. She absentmindedly threw it on him, silently telling him to get dressed. “I told Wells to let you sleep. You were keeping guard pretty late last night.”

She told herself that it was because he needed his eight hours of sleep if he was going to function properly. He was even more grumpy when he slept for only two hours.

Bellamy’s lips tugged into a grin and then fell open as he let out a dramatic gasp. “Was that you being nice?” She rolled her eyes and he was quick to add, “I’m sorry, I only ever saw you being nice to Clarke and Wells. Is it snowing outside?”

“Shut up.” Caroline muttered, her eyes involuntarily flickering toward his hands. “Just get dressed. We have work to do.”

He grabbed the blue shirt that she gave him but made no move to put it on. He simply raised a knowing eyebrow. “Are you sure that you want me to do that? You don’t want to keep checking me out?”

Caroline felt heat rushing to her face. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no words came out and she was desperately trying to find something to say. A couple of seconds later, she simply blurted out, “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that good looking.”

His smirk only grew. “Oh, so I’m not that good looking?” He stepped closer and she wished that the ground would swallow her whole. “I knew you liked me, Princess.”

“You wish,” She shot back, but made no move to step away from him. His scent was intoxicating and she could not look away from his face. His dark eyes were flickering between her eyes and her lips and she swore that they only got darker when her breath hitched.

Bellamy lifted his hand to brush some of her hair away from the face and he licked his lips, an action that only made her stare at his lips longer. He pushed his face closer to her own and just as he was about to lock their lips together, Wells’ voice rang through the air.

“Bellamy, did you take my─” He cut himself off when he looked up from the ground to see his best friend standing inappropriately close to the guy that she hated for months. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he silently looked back and forth between the two of them for a couple of moments. He swallowed and awkwardly croaked out, “I’ll come back later. Or never. Probably never.”

Caroline watched the place he was standing at a couple of seconds ago in shock. She quickly stepped away from Bellamy and cleared her throat. “Get dressed and meet me in the map tent.”

Bellamy watched her leave the tent in a rush and chuckled to himself the second she left.

-

Caroline wished that they could simply work in silence, each on their own side of the tent. After what happened earlier that morning, the last thing that she needed was to spent the next couple of hours before lunch with Bellamy. Especially because he seemed completely unfazed. If anything, his amusement only grew every time he would catch her staring at him which would lead to her having to look away or narrow her eyes into a glare to seem annoyed rather than flustered.

He saw right through her. That might be the reason why she hated him so much. She had always tried to keep her walls up as high as possible because she was afraid of letting people in. But Bellamy could read her like an open book.

“We should move Jasper from the gate and get Miller there.” Caroline suggested as she leaned over the map of their camp. “I love him to death but he runs at the first sight of danger. There is no one better than Miller. I trust him to stay there more than anyone.”

Bellamy surprised her by shaking his head. Her eyebrows furrowed. Was Miller not his best friend? “Guarding the gate is a big responsibility, yes, but it’s also dangerous. The guards there are usually the first to go. We have to put someone disposable there.”

Caroline let out a humorless laugh and looked at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? No one in this camp is disposable. We put the most competent person there, no matter how much either one of us cares about him.”

The Blake shrugged. “I don’t know if losing him is worth it.”

“And losing someone else is?” She retorted and stepped away from the table and scoffed. “I cannot believe you. You talk shit about The Ark, Jaha and the privileged for sending us here and labeling us as disposable but you are not any different. For some reason, those kids out there trust you but you are willing to sacrifice any of them if it means saving your ass and the two people you care about.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with anger the second that she compared him to the monsters that killed his mother and locked up his sister. He stepped closer to her and glared down at her. “Stop pretending that you know me, Princess. You can’t psychoanalyze everyone in your life just because of one decision they make.”

Caroline glared back at him, not intimidated. “And you can judge people based on who their parents are? That’s ironic. I would not be surprised if you were planning to tell me that I should guard the gate since you clearly hate me so much. Putting me there is the easiest way to get rid of me, right?”

“Maybe I do hate you?” His words made her falter in surprise. “How can I not? You always have something to say about every decision I make. You take every opportunity to argue with me. Whenever I think that we are starting to see eye to eye, you do another thing to drive me crazy. And I hate myself for it a lot more than I hate you because despite you being everything that I’m against I still…” Bellamy did not finish his sentence and simply stared at the clueless look on her face. After a couple of seconds of silence, he muttered, “Fuck it.”

Caroline stumbled back in surprise which led to her sitting on the desk. Before she got the chance to kiss him back, he pulled away. His breath fanned across her lips and he stared at her, trying to find any hint of disgust or hesitance. He did not find any. But this time, she was the one that kissed him. She gripped his shirt to keep him closer while one of his hands tangled in her hair. Her breath hitched when he used his grip on her cair to pull her head down in order to reveal her neck. He did not think twice before he messily started placing open-mouthed kisses over her exposed collar bone.

She moaned and spread her legs so he could comfortably stand between them. His other hand found her waist and she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling on his curls lightly to spur him on. He pushed down her shirt to reveal her bra so he could keep sucking hickies down to her breats. The hand on her waist squeezed it and he paused, squeezing his eyes shut to get it together.

“Did you─ did you ever have sex?” Bellamy asked,his dark eyes practically piercing through her soul.

Caroline’s eyes almost softened at the genuine worry in his voice. He was grounded enough to ask the eighteen year old, who spent the last six years of her life locked up, if she was a virgin or not. Luckily, after Clarke broke Wells’ heart, she was more than fine with being his rebound to keep her mind off of other things.

She rapidly nodded, tugging at his shirt so he could get back to what he was doing before.

“Words, Caroline,”

Caroline. Not Princess or Baby Griffin. Just Caroline.

“Yes.” She breathed out. “I had sex before. Now stop being so uncharacteristically considerate and kiss me.”

Bellamy did not need to be told twice. He leaned back down to kiss her and her hands quickly found their way around his neck to pull him closer to her despite them already being chest-to-chest. His tongue slipped into her mouth and easily won the short battle for dominance.

Caroline placed her hands on his chest to push him away. He gave her a confused look which disappeared when she pulled her shirt over her head. He smirked and then copied her actions, exposing his chest. This time, she shamelessly checked him out.

Bellamy was pleasantly surprised when she reached down to pull his pants down along with his underwear. Her hand wrapped around his dick and started to slowly move her hand up and down, almost as if she was teasing him. He let out a low groan and leaned his hands on either side of her. He rested his forehead against hers and kept his eyes on her as she jerked him off.

“Fuck, Princess.” He cursed, his breath hitching. He was ashamed of how close he was just from her jerking him off.

He pulled her hand away and just as she was about to ask him what he was doing, he pulled her off of the desk in order to pull her hands down. He wrapped his arms around her thighs to place her back on the table and she gasped in surprise when his fingers slipped between her legs. His fingers teased her opening until she was whining into his mouth.

“Don’t tease.”

He chuckled and dipped one of his fingers inside of her. “Patience.”

She did not argue and simply leaned back, letting him pump his fingers in and out of her while he rubbed her clit. She moaned his name lowly, aware that if they were too loud, the others outside could hear them. Bellamy almost moaned at the sight of the girl squirming and trying her hardest to stay quiet on the table. The girl who never kept her mouth shut and was a force to be reckoned with was completely at his mercy.

Before Caroline could finish, he pulled his hand away. She panted and gave him a weak glare. “You’re a dick,”

“I didn’t hear you arguing when you were moaning my name.” He shot back and cupped her ass to bring their bodies closer together. He wrapped one of his hands around his dick and slid inside of her. He let out a deep groan and she let out a high pitchen moan due to his lack of patience. Bellamy placed one of his hands over her mouth and whispered, “Be quiet for me, Princess. You don’t want the rest of the camp to hear how much you hate me, do you?”

She shook her head and her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he pulled out and roughly pushed back inside her. He was no better than her. He was cursing and groaning as she rolled her hips back into his own.

They spent a couple of minutes like that, soaking in pleasure and the thrill that they got from the fact that anyone could walk into the tent at any minute. “I’m close.” He muttered and used the hand that was not covering her mouth to rub her clit in order to get her closer to the edge.

Caroline’s nails dug into his shoulders and the moaned against his hand, almost reaching her peak. He groaned at the pain and only snapped his hips against her faster. Her vision blurred and her eyes squeezed shut when she finally fell over the edge and came around him. Her walls squeezing him like a vice was what pushed him over the edge and he was quick to pull out and finish on her stomach.

Caroline panted and leaned her forehead against his chest when his hand fell from her mouth.

"So much for hating me, huh, Princess?"

She groaned. "Clarke is gonna kill me."

[bloodreinasbathwater]

The 100 Recs

Fighting for by @wonderswritings

Desperate measures by @margoshansons

Banished by @turning-dreams-into-chaos

Bounty Hunter by @locker42

In the end it was always you by @url-is-under-construction

Privileged by @imagines-all-day-everyday

We come running by @puddygeeks

[narcissisticmf]

persistence | bellamy blake x gn!reader

description: training with bellamy.

trigger warnings: some seductive behavior, gun usage, fluff, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: <1k

Holding the shot gun close against your right shoulder, you aimed it towards the wooden target outside. You'd been the only one training that afternoon, everyone else was at lunch. You closed your left eye and tried your best to hit the center of the target. You pulled the trigger and missed it, the bullet drove through the wood several inches away from the center.

You released a grunt and tossed the gun against the grass and dirt, frustratedly. You kicked a rock that was by your feet as you clenched your jaw. Placing your hands against your hips, you stood still for a moment, staring at the target for a while; as if it would give you the answer as to how to shoot the center of it.

"It's really not that complicated," Bellamy's voice was heard from behind you.

You parted your lips and released a soft breath, uninterested in his instruction. "I almost had it," You avoided eye contact and reached down to lift up the shot gun, holding it tightly against your shoulder again.

Bellamy stood behind you, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you for a moment. His eyes squinted subtly due to the brightness of the sun.

You pulled the trigger and missed by a hair again. You sighed, quietly.

"Hold it up again," Bellamy instructed, walking towards you.

"I don't need your help," You replied, looking back to him.

"Just hold it," He said, not phased by your attitude. You looked ahead at the target and held up the gun again. Bellamy's hands slowly moved around to your arms to fix their position. You could feel his breath fanning against your neck. The closeness caused a lump to develop in your throat, unable to speak.

"Yeah.." Bellamy cleared his throat and stepped back, awkwardly. "Like that," He nodded.

You felt your grip against the gun loosen from the sweat that produced in the palms of your hands. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself back into focus and closed your left eye again. Bellamy stood at your side and watched as you pulled the trigger.

The bullet swiftly moved through the red painted dot against the wood carved into a circle. You smiled widely as you stared at the hole in the middle of the target.

"I did it!" You laughed, almost baffled that you were capable of doing it. You turned to see Bellamy and he was smiling at you. That was something he didn't always do often, but when he did it was beautiful.

"I told you it wasn't that complicated," He smiled. "It's all in how you hold it."

"Thanks, Bellamy," You grinned.

He simply nodded with a smile to his lips.

.

a/n: hi, darlings!! so i just started watching the 100 and it's honestly so good! i hope that i captured bellamy's character well here and if i didn't, i'm sorry 😭 i'm still learning his character! love you guys mwah! — angelina

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

TEN YEARS OF THE 100 ▸ Favorite Scene: "I Am Become Death" [Season 1, Episode 10]

"'I am become death, destroyer of worlds...' It’s Oppenheimer, the man who built the first––" "I know who Oppenheimer is."

[s1ater]

i do what i have to do.

pairings. bellamy blake x fem!reader

part two of two.

about. in which you point your gun at someone you never thought you’d point it at.

warnings. swearing

ricky rocks. look who finally finished a year old one shot/fic/whatever you call it 🤗🤗

bellamy coudn’t hurt you even if he wanted to. so, when mumbling the words, ‘move or i’ll kill you’, you could see right through his bluff by the way his eyes so willingly betrayed him, filled with... hurt.

in all truth, bellamy believed you would have shot him if it would have come down to that, and maybe that’s what pained him most. he wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, and you would have, but only for the best interest and safety of arkadia and your friends. 

you never wanted to hurt bellamy, but recently you really, really wanted to slap him upside the head for all the stupid shit he had been doing. and maybe a gun scare would knock some sense into him, or maybe it would only put him deeper into the hole pike was digging for him. 

bellamy yanked you to your feet quickly after the two of you had seemed to have recovered from all the commotion that had just taken place. you weren't sure whether or not he wanted to get you away from the increase in rowdy crowd or to have his way with you first. 

you were beginning to think it was the last option as he marched down the hall with you in front of him, gripping your left arm while the other pressed against your back. one, two, three, four more steps before he shoved you into one of the guards rooms, his room. 

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he let go of your arm with a slight shove causing you to stumble forward a bit. he looked angry, more than you had ever seen him and more than you would have ever wished to see.

“bellamy, don’t start with me,” you mumbled, raising a finger to harshly accuse him... for something. “if you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

he scoffed, looking beyond dumbfounded with his mouth slight agape, not believing the words that had just came from your mouth.

“stop fucking talking,” he needed to think. he begun to pace back and forth, and you had no idea what to do with yourself as you watched him. “i need to get you out of here.”

"what?"

he gives you a dumbfounded look that was filled with a sense of urgency, "y/n, you just shot someone that can have you dead within seconds. you don't leave, someone’s going to do exactly what you did, and take justice into their own hands."

"you should have let me finish the job."

"we're not starting this," he grips your shoulder before pushing you by your upper back. "people are leaving. o, kane, miller—you go with them. you stay, they'll kill you."

"how do you know this?" you mumbled, glancing back at the mention of your friends and the planned escape you all had developed. bellamy was considered a traitor to you all, so he would be the last person on your list to concern with the escape plan. 

"eyes everywhere."

you narrow your brows at him, "you're coming with."

he narrows his brows in shock, not expecting you to say this, you share the same expression, also shocked by yourself. the past month would explain this--not only had you watched your world at arkadia fastly crumble after the slow rebuild of humanity, you also witnessed your relationship with bellamy slowly tank moment after moment while his with pike was created.

so, offering passage was an absurd idea. after all the betrayal.

he seems to wince after his surprisal settles but is quick to keep a straight face as best as he can, "you're getting the wrong idea."

"am i?"

"we're not friends anymore, y/n. this isn't old times," his words are intentionally stinging, but you don't miss the look on his face that betrays him. "you can't save me if that’s what you’re thinking. I don't need to be saved, i know what i’m doing."

you frown, "bellamy, you need to stop acting like there's never going to be a happy ending for you before it comes true. leave with us."

"you know i can't do that."

"why not?"

"I dug myself in too deep this time," his face was still stone cold, but it didn't prevent remorse from blossoming in your chest. "maybe if you weren't such a terrible shot, this would be all over."

***

in well under an hour bellamy had you out of arkadia, alone. your friends had left a lot sooner than thought and no matter how much begging you did—expectedly—bellamy left his mind unchanged. 

you knew exactly where your friends were going—where they’d be. it was a long and lonely hike but it was enough time for reflection.

you miss the time where you felt like a kid still. where you were young and reckless and full of hope that you’d finally get to be free upon that first step off the drop ship. that you had purpose and will and fighting was something you hadn’t really minded aside from the possible side affect of death.

now you were tired. you just wanted to lay your head down for once and not think about the pointless rivalry purging your everyday life.

“y/n, you’re okay,” octavia pulls you into a tight hug, a certain relief setting over. “god, after we hadn’t seen you, we assumed the worst.”

“i’m okay,” you gave her a thin-lipped smile, “thanks to your brother.”

“bellamy?” she seems shocked, like that’s the first courteous thing he’s done for someone in years.

“yes,” you nod, understanding the hostile tone she almost takes with his name. “i think he might’ve saved me.”

“where is bellamy?” miller speaks causing you to realize they had all emerged from the cave.

"he's gone."

"dead?"

"no,” you shake your head, “he stayed behind. he said he had to fix some thing’s before he showed his face again.”

octavia mentally rolled her eyes, but kept her composure as she watched you, “you’re here. that’s all that matters.”

***

“is he dead?”

“indra has him.”

“bellamy-“

“y/n,” he gives you a pointed look at your protest. “you know that’s as good as dead.”

he was right. pike killed her people, that was far from unforgivable. he’d be lucky to receive death.

“she didn’t kill you.”

he shook his head, keeping his eyes low to the ground, “thanks to o.”

it took a day for bellamy to find you all. his face was beaten and bloodied, but you knew better than to ask what the cause was. he had a lot of enemies at the moment and it wasn’t like this was something out of the blue for him. you would've been surprised to see a clean face.

“she doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

“i’d like to think she doesn’t hate me at all,” he presses his lips into a thin line. “you’re right though.”

you nod, trying to look sympathetic.

“about everything. i’m sorry.”

your mouth slightly opens in shock from not anticipating his words; apology and admitting.

“i’m sorry too,” you nod, swallowing harshly as you think about having that gun pointed inches from his face. “i would’ve never shot you.”

“you sure?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell he’s genuine when asking. “could’ve guessed otherwise.”

“guessing will only hurt you,” you tease, but quickly drop the blitheness. “i shouldn’t have done it, but i was scared… and angry.”

“i know,” he whispers, “we do what we have to do, right?”

“right.”

“then if that means shooting me to knock some sense into me, do it.”

a laugh gets stuck in the back of your throat at the preposterous thought of it. the funny thing was you knew he wasn’t joking. classic bellamy, putting himself in harm’s way.

“me a couple months ago would be more than happy to oblige,” you shake your head, making it his turn to laugh.

“us a couple months ago was a different story. i’m sure we already had guns to each other’s throats.”

you laugh with him, “yeah.”

“never again.”

nodding, “never again.”

you stare at one another now, quiet and calm. you don’t think you’ve ever had a moment like this with bellamy before.

you’re not sure what to do, but bellamy does.

your months of angsty butting heads leading to civilness, then ultimately leading to radio silence on both of your ends due to pike, had killed him. and now, here you were, back in his grasp of more than just civilness, he couldn’t let that go.

“i lied,” he mumbles, suddenly shifting from the rock he sat on. “instead of shooting me…” he’s leaning now, hovering, and just barely resisting the urge to complete his intentions. you feel his breath fan your face; feel, because your eyes are shut. “please, just kiss me.”

his nose is slotted against yours, still hovering as he watches you beneath his eye lashes. his lips are so close… so close to yours, it’s killing him that he waits.

“i’m sorry, but i have to do this,” he smiles before finally pressing his lips against yours.

@thecraziestcrayon @mynewnamedoesnotmatter @myalupinblack @cc13723things @Uselesssapphickitten @black-rose-29 @reality-runaway @let-love-bleeds-red @rudypankowisdaddy @the-anxious-youth @kitkat-mini @itzstacie @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @nyx3028 @hizziestial @ritz-hell-hotel @fruitiseavey @kayalect @deathtobarbie @areil4 @strnqer @mystic-writings @gbrownn @moonlighy @straightzoinked @thelaststraw3 @navyabhatnagar @alexxavicry @esposadomd @lupinsluvbot

[are-you--cereal]

right so rewatching the 100 and this show is genuinely so good? like?!? like it’s very clearly teen drama based but like the story lines and character arcs go crazyyy!! is this fandom still alive like at all?!!

[okmcintyre]

Clarke + the hundred, S1 >> S6

[the-witch-of-woods-beyond]

the saddest part of s5 of the 100 in my opinion is that everyone has obviously spent six years growing and moving on and some even healing - we see spacekru have grown into a family of sorts and all care for each other, and octavia has grown massively and taken up completely the role of leading wonkru - and clarke has stayed stagnant for six years. of course, she raised her daughter and she loved her and they nurtured their home together - but for six years, she waited and waited for bellamy and spacekru to come back down so that they could get the bunker door open and let humanity start again. and she didn’t even know for sure if they were alive up there. so it’s six years later, and spacekru are back on earth and wonkru are out of the bunker, but everything is different and she fits in nowhere and her home has been taken by prisioners and her own daughter is being used against her. and the sad thing is it was only natural - of course spacekru grew together in her absence and wonkru probably thought she was up there with them - but it’s so sad to see her trying to find her footing with these people again and push for peace after waiting for it for six long years, only to have every mistake she ever made thrown back in her face as she is called weak and then watch her home be blown to pieces after her daughter was shoved into a role of leadership that stole her childhood and ruined any chance of her ever being a kid, which is exactly what clarke was so afraid of.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

burning pt. 2 | b. blake

part one | masterlist

summary: season three — a daunting decision is to be made. multiple cups of grounder celebration juice, an arrogant bellamy blake, and a desire to prove oneself cause an inevitable outcome.

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

warnings (including all parts): alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: THIS IS PART TWO OF FROM THE FLAMES!!

word count: 2.6k

No.

Way.

There was absolutely no way I was going to join a horde of drunken warriors dancing around a ten-foot-tall bonfire.

At least, that was what I had told Raven ten minutes ago.

Given the current position in which I was standing (which was just outside the crowd of dancers by a barrel containing a brew that I told myself was just really strong moonshine) and the alcohol oozing through my veins like sweet, molten honey, I think it’s safe to say that I had contradicted myself.

How many drinks had I had now? Two, three? Somewhere around there.

I wasn’t drunk, I swear. Although, I was certainly working my way towards being so. Raven had gently coerced—threatened—me into joining the raunchy dance circle. I had at first refused, but when she began to suggest telling Bellamy my ‘little secret’ if I didn’t do it myself, I reluctantly, very reluctantly, agreed.

So, that was that. I was going to dance. With Grounders. Around a bonfire. In front of Bellamy.

Hence, the drinks.

The only times I had ever danced were during parties back on the Ark, but those were so tame and regulated. This was vastly different. There were no rules, no sophistication, and certainly no guards keeping tabs on how close a girl danced with a boy. The latter was clear as day, taking the form of a couple dancing together a few feet in front of me.

A woman with dark, slicked-back braids and deep bronze skin pushed herself against her partner, a tall man with lengthy facial hair and spike-cuffed fists that must’ve been the size of my head. One of his hands was on her back, the other on her hip, ruching up her long skirt so that it exposed her thighs as she glided her chest up his torso. They grinded and swayed and flowed together in time with the pulsating beat.

Dread grappled me. I had to do that? How the hell do you dance like that in jeans and a tank top?

Through the ever-migrating crowd, I spotted Raven standing with Monty and Harper on the opposite side of the square. Of course, she had already been watching me the whole time. The fear on my face was unmistakable, yet she only sent an impatient nod of her head that said, “Get on with it already.”

If anything, you could always rely on Raven for her persistence.

“Christ, help me.” I plunged my cup into the barrel, fervently bringing its contents back to my lips and down my throat.

“Didn’t take you for a religious one,” came a deep voice from behind me.

I swivelled around, my cup still craned to my lips, and found the incentive for my drinking habits standing before me.

Bellamy.

Gracelessly, I choked as a much too-large mouthful of liquid streamed down my throat. My innards recoiled in on themselves. “Bellamy,” I said, attempting to compose myself. “Hi.” Unfortunately, the abhorrent aftertaste still lurked on my tongue, causing my expression to sour into one of disgust. “God—makes moonshine seem like apple juice.”

Apparently, he found this amusing. A hum of a chuckle bobbed in his throat. “Looks like you’re enjoying the party then.”

A few variations of how I wanted to reply: “I wasn’t until you started talking to me,” “Not really, but if you take me into a back alley right now, I might,” and, just a plain and simple, “I need you.”

What I really said: “Oh, yeah, I’m having a great time. You meet this guy?” I patted the barrel behind me. “Really supportive. We’re becoming good friends.”

He nodded, eyeing me with a quizzical smirk. “I can see that. Maybe you should branch out a bit. Have you met the one called Water yet?”

“You’re funny.”

“Alcohol tends to have that effect on me,” he said, and I laughed. His freckled cheeks rounded into apples and his teeth made a rare appearance; he looked away as if to hide his smile, as if Bellamy Blake couldn’t possibly be anything but serious and brooding. He’s kept my secret; I’ll keep his.

We both observed the crowd and the fire as a new song began to play, standing comfortably, wordlessly, side by side. Maybe ‘wordlessly’ was a bit of a stretch—there was a magnitude of words filling my mind, especially when he began unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off to expose his contoured arms to the fire’s fervour.

His arms…

“How many drinks have you had?”

I blinked. “What?”

He stared at me with a mischievous glint in his eye, draping his jacket on an unlit makeshift barbeque. “I said, what do you think of all this?”

The veil of lust-ridden (let’s call it what it was) fog lifted from my mind, and my brows creased deeply as I attempted to piece together what he was talking about. It took me a few belated seconds before I realized he had been referring to the Grounders and Sky People uniting as one people. I could hardly contain an idiotic smile from breaching my lips—my opinion was important to him.

“It’s—well,” I stammered, “it’s different.” It’s different? If only he knew how badly I wanted to club myself with a brick at that moment. Despite my obvious mental stagnation, he expressed nothing but patience, waiting with a visible longing for my input. So, I tried again, slowly working around the alcohol and shrewd blockages in my brain. “Honestly? It scares me. Their first impression of us was that we were cold-blooded killers and ours of them was the exact same. Ever since we hit the ground, we’ve been at each other’s throats; we’ve all committed so many acts of war.

“I’m scared of how fragile this peace is, how one tiny mistake could lead to the annihilation of our kind or theirs, or even both.” Bellamy watched me with silent contemplation. I continued, “And I’m scared if this peace does break, you’ll be on the front-lines because I know you’ll refuse to be anywhere else. And I know you and I tend to… disagree more often than not, but if you were to die—” I looked down, bashfully scrutinising the toes of my boots “—I think I’d be lost.”

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. I immediately wished to snatch the words my loosened tongue had released and shove them back down my throat. His silence was writhing excruciatingly through the air, surrounding us like a constricting serpent.

Say something, Bellamy. Say anything.

“I think I’d feel the same,” he finally spoke, and the relief I felt was instant. I looked up at him. His pupils were bowls of sweet melted chocolate as he cocked his head to the side. “What would I do without my favourite sparring partner?”

My heart soared.

My favourite sparring partner.

Favourite.

So much for not smiling like an absolute idiot. I could only pray the fire’s orange light masked the jeopardising tinge of my cheeks, though there was nothing I could do about my blatant staring. Maybe it would have been embarrassing if I were the only one, but Bellamy had the same problem.

Someone seemed to hit ‘pause’on time.

The blood in my veins moved like a tranquil river; my heart expanded and subdued with each slow beat. The voices and bodies around us blurred into one big mass of nothing. All that seemed to be moving was the music drifting down towards us from the tower and Bellamy’s face, which was leaning closer in microscopic intervals, almost unnoticeably. But I noticed.

And then the bonfire roared with a loud crack.

Voices mingled. Bodies shuffled. Time restarted.

Bellamy cleared his throat and looked away, just as I began inspecting the cup in my hand. What was in that stuff? It was supposed to give me the confidence to dance in front of him; he ruined—a term I’ll use loosely—my plans by greeting me directly, so now I was just tipsy for no good reason.

At least now I didn’t have to join a wanton circle of dancing grounders.

Wait.

Was Bellamy going to kiss me?

“Didn’t think I’d see a grounder mating ritual tonight,” muttered Bellamy as he watched the scene with crossed, disapproving arms. The light spirit he had been in before had obviously been overthrown by his usual brooding nature. Funny that—that his mood only soured after hemade it seem like he was going to…

You know.

I turned towards the crowd, away from him (and his damning muscular arms that bulged impossibly over his chest). “You don’t approve?” I asked flatly. His sudden detachment had pissed me right off. “Everyone,” I addressed the partygoers in a hushed tone only Bellamy could hear, “stop dancing right now. Bellamy Blake doesn’t approve of fun.”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered.

“Then go dance.”

“I don’t dance.”

For the second time that night, I contradicted myself. “Well, I do.”

Now that regained his attention. I could see him staring at me in my peripheral vision.

“Right,” he scoffed. “You’re gonna dance.”

Ouch.

His words struck a chord deep inside me, causing my expression to wilt into something defensive. My arms folded promptly over my chest and I turned to stare him down. “Is it so unimaginable?”

“I just can’t picture you dancing,” he spoke with an arrogant grin, as if his viewpoint originated from the truth and mattered above all else.

It was moments like this one that pushed me to judge whether I should indulge in my attraction to Bellamy. Maybe it was the booze talking, but I really just wanted to slap him across the face. If not literally, then maybe figuratively, by proving him wrong.

I’d had this problem ever since I met him: he would tell me to do one thing, and I’d do the complete opposite; it felt like an unspoken rule at this point. Which led me to my next decision.

My arms dropped to my sides. “Good thing you won’t have to in a minute,” I snapped.

I began making for the bonfire and dancers, each of my curt steps fuelled by spite and a chemically altered brain. I just can’t picture you dancing. Yeah, right. I’d give him something to picture, the smug asshole.

“Hey.” A large hand caught my wrist, pulling me back half a step so I that had to stop.

I shot a fiery warning over my shoulder. Bellamy’s eyes reflected regret and a touch of submission; he knew it had been the wrong move and immediately let go of my arm, withdrawing half a step himself in placation.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he spoke cautiously like I was a spooked animal about to attack. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, you did upset me.”

“Princess, I—"

I whirled around on my toes and we came face-to-face (well, face-to-collarbone). The swiftness of my actions must’ve caught him off-guard because he cut himself short mid-sentence and the bulge of his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously in his throat.

The scorching intensity of my gaze was pointed directly up at him now, just daring him to speak another word. He didn’t. His mouth had set into a hard, impenetrable line that represented his oath of silence. It was a smart choice, but, god, he had gotten me so riled up that whether he was smart no longer mattered.

I just couldn’t help myself.

The gap between us shortened as I took a smooth step forward, keeping us connected by the eyes. A challenge in the form of a scornful smile broke across my lips. “No leaning in this time, huh?” I spoke.

Bellamy’s eyes twitched into squints, his jaw clenching in unison. It was strange how he took offence to being called out on something he had done—a common trait in those affected by frequently un-called-out arrogance, no doubt. I’d have to start helping him out with that.

A bomb was ticking beneath his skin and I knew firsthand how short the fuse was. Subconsciously, I think I wanted to blow it. Subconsciously, I think I enjoyed it: the arguing, the tension, the heat. I enjoyed how we knew exactly what set each other off and how intimate knowing such information about one another was. I enjoyed getting in his face and him getting in mine.

I enjoyed the moments when it would become blatantly obvious that the tension between us never originated from a place of hate or malice, but from somewhere deeper, fleshier.

Or was I so impaired that it was really just me?

Thoughts calculated behind his hooded gaze—of hate, of malice, of flesh, I wasn’t sure. And just when I thought he wasn’t going to reply at all, his neck hollowed with a deep inhale, and he leaned down to my height. My heart dropped to an unspeakable place. His breath was hot on the tip of my ear, “Did you want me to lean in?”

I stared at his shoulder, trying to conceal the shiver trickling down my neck and over my breasts and much, much further below. He lingered in place for a half-second longer before returning to full height. Can you guess the shape his lips made as he scanned my perplexed expression? It’s not difficult.

I was going to slap him. Not out of dislike: but because how dare he make me want him so badly? And in front of so many people? And without even knowing that I actually did want him and it wasn’t just the alcohol that was making us both sexually frustrated?

I swear to god I was going to slap him. My hand flexed, but before I could act, the universe made evident that it was on Bellamy’s side.

The sudden bellow of horns signalled a change of song. Our attention was dragged away from one another, turning to the celebratory howls and shouts echoing between those surrounding the bonfire. The flames had exploded to new heights as someone fed more wood to the base. It burned so brightly, so dangerously that if I didn’t know any better, I’d have mistaken it for a god.

The horns vibrated in the air, repeating over and over as more instruments were introduced to create something dark and haunting. Slowly, I began to smile. I knew what I was going to do now, and it certainly wasn’t slapping the smirk off of Bellamy Blake’s face.

“Sorry, Blake,” I voiced over the music. We were looking at each other now; somehow in those ten seconds we were distracted I must’ve sucked him dry of pride and consumed it myself, because I now wore the smirk, and he wore the confusion. One last time, I downed a gulp of my drink and said, “Places to be.”

And then I was gone, heading straight for the crowd of orange-skinned dancers, slick, sweating bodies, and pulsating horns. I’d hoped that last drink would kick in fast, especially if Bellamy’s eyes were to be as vigilant as ever.

part three {to be written}

[scarringstars]

every episode: the 100 → earth skills ↳ i thought there were no rules?

[hd-junglebook]

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Part 2

word count - 3,446

The five of you stood at the side of the cliff, your hearts pounding with anticipation as Finn gripped the rope tightly in his hand, ready to swing across the gap. Finn prepared to make his leap, Jasper piped up, his voice filled with determination. "Wait, guys. Let me do it. I've got this."

There was a moment of stunned silence as his words sunk in. Clarke glanced at him, concern etched across her features. "Jasper, are you sure? It's a long way across." But Jasper was already stepping forward, a defiant gleam in his eyes. "Clarke. Trust me, I can do this."

The rest of you exchanged uncertain glances, but Finn nodded in agreement. "Let him try. We don't have much time."

With a collective cheer, you urged Jasper on as he gripped the rope and launched himself into the air. For a moment, he sailed across the gap with grace, his movements fluid and confident. As Jasper neared the other side, a spear soared through the air straight into his chest, sending him careening off course.

With a sickening thud, he collided with the rock behind him, the impact knocking the wind out of him.

"Jasper!" Clarke cried out in horror, rushing forward to help him. The rest of you watched in shock, the reality of the situation sinking in. You were not alone in these woods.

Finn took charge, his voice urgent as he scanned the surrounding area. "We need to move. Now. Whatever hit Jasper could still be out there."

You stood in stunned silence by yourself, gears turning in your head at the lack of choices you seemed to have in this moment. Clarkes voice waking you back up from your daze. You crouch down out of sight of whatever was out there.

The woods seemed darker and more foreboding now, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sending shivers down your spine. You looked back at Jaspers figure once more pinned to the rock, catching sight of Monty out in the open.

"Well, this is just fantastic. I always wanted to be stuck in a survival situation with a bunch of amateurs." You whisper to yourself, scanning the woods around you before lunging towards Monty, dragging him by his ear back to the group.

"We are so screwed," Octavia insisted, her eyes darting from tree to tree as if searching for any sign of their missing friend.

Out of nowhere, Jasper's chilling scream pierced through the stillness of the forest, sending a shiver down your spine and causing your blood to run cold. Panic surged through you, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

"Clarke, Jasper. He's alive," you gasped out, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and dread.

But Clarke was already moving, her determination unwavering as she raced ahead, heedless of Finn's warning. "Clarke, wait. Wait! Wait," Finn called out desperately, but she didn't stop.

Monty's voice trembled with fear as he scanned the surrounding trees, removing himself from you side to stand at the cliffs edge once more. "No. Where is he?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes wide with horror.

"They took him," Clarke replied, her tone heavy with sorrow and rage. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, feeling paralyzed as you crouched in the depths of the forest, knowing that Jasper was now in the hands of whatever lurked in the woods.

---

The four of you sprinted through the dense undergrowth, the branches seemed to claw at your skin, leaving scratches in their wake. You reached out, grabbing Octavia's arm with clammy hands, pulling her along with you as you dodged and weaved through the obstacles in your path.

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed Monty and Clarke lagging behind, their breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come on, guys! We're almost there!" you shouted back, urging them to pick up the pace. The forest around you seemed to darken, the sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead seems to diminish with each passing step.

light struggled to penetrate the thick trees behind you, casting long shadows that stretch across the forest floor like fingers reaching out to pull you deeper into the gloom with every step you took towards the safety of the camp.

The distant flicker of the campfire beckoned through the thick brush, you could almost feel the warmth of the flames against your skin, driving you forward despite the burning ache in your legs. Each step was a struggle, your muscles screaming in protest from the relentless exertion of running from Mount Weather.

You pushed Octavia forward through the trees, finally reaching the group, you were met with a scene that sent a chill down your spine. Murphy and Wells were engaged in a vicious knife fight, their faces contorted with anger and desperation.

Clarke stepped in front of you, her voice sharp with urgency. "Wells! Let him go!" she yelled, pushing herself through the crowd to intervene.

“Alright enough you two!” Bellamy growled as he pushed Murphy away from Wells. Meeting Clarkes angry glare before Octavia caught his attention.

He moved with determined strides, parting the sea of bodies like a ship cutting through choppy waters., his expression darkening with concern and anger. "Octavia, are you all right?" he demanded, his piercing gaze locked onto you, unwavering and intense. "You let her get hurt out there? Where's the food you were so spent on getting?”

You bristled at his accusatory tone, your sarcasm dripping like venom. "Oh, sorry, Bellamy, I was too busy dodging spears and saving Octavia to remember to pack you a picnic basket," you shot back, your frustration boiling over. "But you seem to have everything under control, as usual."

Bellamy's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening even further as he took a step closer to you. "Don't play games with me, y/n," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Finn stumbled forward, gasping for breath. "We... we didn't make it to Mount Weather," he managed to get out between labored breaths.

Clarke stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "We were attacked," she announced, her gaze sweeping over the assembled group of delinquents. "They were waiting for us, lying in ambush."Her words hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked in the woods beyond their camp. The group exchanged worried glances.

Clarke's gaze softened as she addressed her friends, her voice sincere. "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong," she continued, her eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "There are people here, survivors. The good news is, that means we can survive. Radiation won't kill us."

"Yeah, the bad news is the Grounders will," Finn admitted, his eyes reflecting the gravity of their situation.

Wells limped towards the group, grimacing in pain as his voice broke through the tension, his concern evident as he inquired about Jasper's whereabouts. "Where's the kid with the goggles?" he asked, his gaze darting around the group anxiously.

Clarke stepped forward, her expression grim as she delivered the devastating news. "Jasper was hit. They took him," she revealed anxiously. "Where is your wristband?" she demanded, turning her attention back to Wells, her eyes searching his face for answers.

Wells hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice heavy with regret. "Ask him," he replied, gesturing towards Murphy with a solemn expression.

Clarke's frustration was obvious as she processed the information. "How many?" she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper as she awaited Murphy's response.

Murphy's reply was chilling in its simplicity. "Twenty-four and counting," he admitted, his tone sinister as he confirmed the number.

Clarke's frustration boiled over, her words laced with anger. "You idiots," she spat, her voice filled with bitter disappointment. "Life support on the Ark is failing. That's why they brought us down here," she scolded, her words a reminder of the harsh reality they faced.

"Don't listen to her. She's one of the privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good," Bellamy shouted, rallying the crowd with his impassioned words. "We can take care of ourselves. That wristband on your arm? It makes you a prisoner," he declared, his tone defiant as he challenged Clarke's authority as he faced her.

"I say you're not criminals! You're fighters, survivors! The Grounders should worry about us!" His words resonated with the crowd, drawing them back to his side as they echoed their agreement.

You shook your head in disappointment at the shortsightedness of it all, the frustration evident in your expression as you watched the crowd rally behind Bellamy's reckless rhetoric.

Monty pulled you and Clarke towards him, his faced scrunched in discomfort. "What do we do now?" he asked, his eyes darting between Clarke and Bellamy as he sought your guidance.

Clarke's response was firm and resolute, her gaze unwavering as she addressed him. "Now we go after Jasper," she declared.

---

You and Clarke worked quickly to patch up Wells, the urgency of the situation lending speed to your movements as you devised a plan to rescue Jasper. Clarke and Finn's heated exchange filled the air behind you, their voices clashing in disagreement.

Finn remained steadfast in his belief that venturing back into the woods would only lead to disaster. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither should any of you. That spear was thrown with pinpoint accuracy from 300 feet," he argued back.

Clarke's frustration bubbled to the surface as she refused to entertain the idea of leaving Jasper behind. "So what, we let Jasper die? That's not gonna happen, Spacewalker." she retorted, every word seasoned with accusation.

Finn stood his ground, his expression desperate as he countered Clarke's resolve. "It's not an adventure, Clarke, it's a suicide mission," he countered.

"Clarke, we could use Bellamy," you suggested, your voice tinged with reluctance. "He has a weapon. As annoying as he is, we need all the help we can get."

Walking over to Octavia, you handed her a bottle of water, offering her a small smile of reassurance before looking over her leg once more. Clarke approached Bellamy then, her voice commanding as she addressed him. "I hear you have a gun.” Bellamy reply came without hesitation, lifting his shirt slightly to reveal the weapon strapped to his waist.

As he did, you couldn't help but notice the defined contours of his abdomen, the muscles taut and well-defined. Caught momentarily in the act of admiring, you quickly averted your gaze, but not before Bellamy's eyes flicked up, catching you in the act.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed your fleeting glance. "Like what you see?" he quipped, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist a sarcastic retort. "Please, Bellamy, don't flatter yourself. I was just wondering if that thing is even loaded," you shot back, your tone laced with playful sarcasm.

Clarke nodded in agreement. “That’s good. Follow me," she instructed, her words leaving no room for argument.

You fell into step beside her, Bellamy shot you both a questioning look, his brow furrowed in confusion. "And why would I do that?" he asked, his voice edged with skepticism. The two you halting in your walking.

You couldn't resist the urge to challenge him back, his self-righteous attitude grating your nerves for the second time today, "Oh, I don't know, Bellamy. Maybe because you're not as brave as you like to pretend," you retorted, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Bellamy's expression hardened, and he stepped closer to you, mirroring your stance, his gaze intense. For a moment, you almost step back at his closeness, but you refused to back down. "Careful, sweetheart. You don't want to find out just how wrong you are," he warned.

You squared your shoulders, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. "Try me," you mocked, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You walked away with Clarke, leaving Bellamy behind. You could almost feel the weight of his gaze boring into your back as you moved further away. A silent challenge lingering in the air.

---

Your focus, alongside Clarke's, remained on locating Jasper, the urgency tangible in every stride as the group trudged through the dense undergrowth. Bellamy's voice, sharp and cutting, sliced through the otherwise oppressive silence.

"Hey, hold up. What's the rush? You don't survive a spear through the heart." His words halted the group in their tracks, prompting a momentary pause in the relentless pursuit. Wells attempted to interject, his voice a soft plea for reason, "We have to find him, Bellamy,” but Murphy's abrupt intrusion blocked his path.

"We heard him scream when they moved him. We have to find him now." You voiced, restraining yourself from punching Bellamy in the face.

The exchange between you and Clarke, a tense back-and-forth of explanations and rebuttals, seemed destined to continue until Bellamy interrupted, his tone brusque and impatient. "As soon as you take those wristbands off, we can go."

“Over my dead body, Blake,” you huffed, finding his insistence infuriating. Bellamy was quick to put on a self-satisfied expression at your remark. Suddenly, Finn materialized out of the shadows, his unexpected presence bringing an abrupt halt to the argument.

"Clarke's right. We need to keep moving. We're not leaving anyone behind."

Clarke spared you one last glance, mouthing a simple ‘sorry’ before walking away with Finn taking the lead of the group. Once they dispersed, you found yourself beside Wells, Bellamy, and Murphy not far behind. Seeking solace in conversation, you struck up a dialogue with him, hoping to find some semblance of normalcy. Every step felt heavy, the worry for Jasper gnawing at your insides.

The sound of a low groan reverberated through the trees, causing both you and Clarke to snap into action. Without a second thought, you both bolted towards the source of the noise. pushing through tangled foliage and dodging gnarled roots. You finally stumbled upon Jasper, his figure slumped against a rock.

Your heart twisted at the sight of him, “Jasper!” you screamed, looking over his battered and bloodied form. Jasper's wounds were covered, a makeshift bandage hastily applied by unknown hands. Jasper groaned aloud once more, relief flooded through you at the realization that he was alive.

Before you could reach him, the ground beneath your feet gave way, the earth crumbling beneath you in a sudden collapse. Clarke's scream pierced the air as she watched you disappear into the darkness below.

She stumbled backward, her eyes wide with fear, before collapsing to the ground herself. The rest of the group rushed to her side, their shouts of concern blending with the chaos of the moment.

In the midst of the commotion, Bellamy's strong grip closed around your arm, your heart leaped into your throat, you locked eyes with Bellamy just as you were about to plummet into the unknown depths below.

For a fleeting moment, there was something indecipherable in his expression, a hint of uncertainty perhaps, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Before you could dwell on it further, you realized his attention was drawn to the wristband on your arm, and Bellamy's gaze flickered down to it for just a moment. Anger flared within you at the implication, and you snapped, "Let go, Bellamy!"

He hesitated, his grip on your arm tightening as if contemplating his next move. Panic overwhelmed you as you teetered on the edge of the pit, "I know you want to let go, Bellamy. Just do it already!" you snapped.

Bellamy's expression remained inscrutable, his gaze flickering briefly to your wristband before meeting yours again. Then, as if coming to a decision, he released you, allowing you to slip further into the spiked pit below.

Just as you were about to plummet into the abyss, Murphy's strong hand closed around your arm. The rest of the group rushed to your aid, their shouts of concern mingling with the chaos of the moment as they worked together to pull you back to safety.

With a collective effort, they hoisted you up from the brink, your heart pounding in your chest as you collapsed onto solid ground once more. Relief washed over you in a dizzying wave, but as you shot a glare at Bellamy, his gaze still lingering on you with an intensity you couldn't quite decipher.

---

Murphy and Finn rushed forward to help Jasper, you stayed back, still trying to steady your breathing after the near fall. The others scrambled to their feet, scanning the forest for any signs of danger. your eyes landed on Bellamy's gun lying on the ground nearby.

Before you could think twice, a low growl echoed through the trees, sending shivers down your spine. Your gaze shot back to the source of the sound just in time to see a sleek panther emerge from the brush, its predatory eyes fixed on Bellamy.

“Bellamy!” Clarke shouted. “Get the gun now!”

Bellamy reached in his waistband, feeling around for his gun coming up short. A look of confusion passed over his face as the panther crept closer to him. For a split second, you hesitated, your anger and resentment towards Bellamy flashing through your mind. ‘he doesn’t deserve to live.’  You thought. But against your better judgment, you lunged forward, grabbing the gun and aiming at the panther.

You fired off a shot, the sound echoing through the forest as the bullet found its mark. The panther let out a fierce roar before getting ready to strike again. You straightened your aim, stepping closer before firing another round. The panther collapsing to the ground with a loud, its threat neutralized.

Breathless and shaken, Bellamy turned to face you with an eyebrow raised. "Guess I owe you one," he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm.

---

“They're back!”

The gates of the camp swung open, allowing everyone to stream back through the camp, you found yourself lingering behind, lost in the tumult of your own thoughts. Memories of your mother, her accusing words, and the weight of her disappointment flooded your mind.

You recalled the countless times she had blamed you for her circumstances, her voice echoing in your head like a haunting refrain. The sharp sting of her words, the relentless yelling, and the coldness in her eyes all played vividly in your memory.

"You coming?" Bellamy's voice broke through your reverie, pulling you back to the present.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. "Yeah, I'll catch up," you replied tersely, your tone betraying the turmoil within. Your legs guided you without a second though, taking your place on a log settled by the fire, surrounded by the other delinquents. You let the warmth of the flames ease the tension in your shoulders.

Harper and Miller's banter provided a welcome distraction, their jokes and laughter cutting through the heavy atmosphere that hung over the camp. You found yourself drawn into their playful exchange, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you listened to their witty repartee.

"So, did you hear about the guy who stole a calendar? He got twelve months!" Harper said, laughing to herself while Miller poked the fire next to you.

"Oh man, that's almost as bad as your last joke!" Miller responded, shaking his head at her bad attempts at jokes.

You chuckled along with them, appreciating the light-hearted moment amidst the chaos of your situation. You caught yourself watching Bellamy, your eyes hazily looking over at the line forming in front of him.

"Next!" Bellamy shouted, while Murphy continued to break off the wristbands of each delinquent in line. You watched as he worked efficiently, his movements brisk and purposeful as he conducted his trade.

"Food for wristbands. One at a time, let's keep it moving."

Despite your lingering resentment towards him, you couldn't help but admire his resourcefulness and determination to provide for the group.

But when Bellamy's gaze briefly met yours, you couldn't bring yourself to accept his offer of food, instead choosing to remain seated by the fire, surrounded by the company of your fellow delinquents.

Every now and then, a knowing glint danced in your eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the secret you held close. While Bellamy spoke with confidence, there was a hint of unease in his demeanor, a flicker of uncertainty that betrayed his facade of bravado.

It was clear to you that he didn't realize you were privy to his secret, the truth behind his presence on the dropship, the lengths he went to in order to secure his spot among the delinquents.

[bloodreinasbathwater]

The 100 Masterlist

this is just a remake, all of my old Bellamy Blake x Reader are discontinued because I am making a brand-new fic, everyone has seemed to find my work overtime and it feels wrong to not make new the 100 based work.

Neutral

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Diana Sydney's daughter is sent to the ground with 99 other delinquents. While her mother schemes for power and destruction aboard the Ark, y/n must navigate the harsh realities of survival on the ground. As she confronts her own trauma and struggles to define her morality in the face of chaos, she grapples with the ultimate question: Will she rise above her past and choose the path of goodness, or will her mother's influence shape her destiny and lead her down a darker path?

Season 1

Part  1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 6.5 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10

Edge Of Exile

Bellamy Blake x Reader

As the ark struggles to establish a new home on Earth, Y/N, a prisoner from flint station seems to be the only one who can save them from themselves. the group finds themselves thrust into a dangerous power struggle that threatens to tear the community apart. Faced with betrayal, deceit, and factions vying for control, Y/N must navigate a treacherous landscape of alliances and rivalries.

parts - prologue,  1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10 , 11 , 12

In the Bunker

will come come back to finish this

The Other Side

John Murphy x Reader

A grounder marked as a spy for the commander is tasked with the case of gathering intel on a group of survivors that fell from the sky. Falling for a member of this foreign group leads the clan into bloodshed.

Part 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5