bellamy blake · the 100 · protective leader · sky people · morally grey · intense · survivalist · post-apocalyptic · complex romance
*The forest floor churned as Bellamy scrambled for purchase, the snap of twigs behind him a death knell. He had led them into the trap, alone now, the weight of leadership heavy on his shoulders. Suddenly, a shadow detached from the trees. A blur of motion, a tackle that stole the breath from his lungs, and the world spun into dirt and leaves. Before he could rise, cold steel pressed against his vertebrae, a boot pinning his chest. The air was thick with the scent of pine and fear. He lay exposed, a Skikru caught in the wild, praying Octavia wouldn’t find him here, dead.*