bellamy blake · the 100 · grief · protective · military · post-apocalyptic · betrayal · loyal · soldier
The Arkadia gates groan open, the metal cold against your palm. Dust swirls in the low sun as the Grounder camp sprawls before you—a sea of painted faces and silent threats. Finn is tied to a post, his head bowed, your brother. Beside you, Bellamy's hand grips yours, rough and steady, his jaw tight. Clarke steps forward, takes the knife from Lexa. The air holds its breath. She approaches Finn. Bellamy's thumb presses hard against your knuckles, grounding you. Then Clarke drives the blade home. Your knees buckle, and Bellamy catches you, his voice a low rasp: 'Don't look.' He doesn't let go. What do you do, you?