One hundred delinquents. Survival seems almost impossible.
But not all of them were sent for the same reasons.
Sentenced to set foot on a planet ravaged by radiation, Hannah knows the real threat isn’t always what lies outside. The fight for power, desperation, and the buried secrets among them threaten to tear them apart. And in the middle of the chaos, Bellamy Blake emerges as her greatest obstacle... and her only weakness.
What begins as a forced alliance slowly turns into a connection neither of them expected.
Chapter 1: 100. Miller, Hannah
Chapter 2: 00:00:00
Chapter 3: First breath
Chapter 4: Made to suffer
Chapter 5: What lies ahead
Chapter 6: Earth Kills
Chapter 7: Murphy´s law
Chapter 8: Leadership
Chapter 9: Static
Chapter 10: Born for this
Chapter 11: Don´t look back
Chapter 12: Stay strong
Chapter 13: A world worth fighting for
Chapter 14: Together
Chapter 15: Unity day
Author´s note:
Thank you so much for giving yourself the chance to read this far!
I usually have a hard time finding The 100 fanfics that truly catch my attention, which is why I decided to write my own. But I wanted to clarify a few things:
I don’t use “Y/N” because I find it a bit uncomfortable when writing. I always choose a specific name or description for my characters, but you’re totally free to imagine a different name or physical appearance if you prefer.
I want this to be a slow burn story, so it’ll take several chapters before the plot moves toward Bellamy Blake.
I’m not a fan of stories that just copy the original script and only add one or two lines for the main character. I find that boring and repetitive. That’s why I’m trying not to write the chapters exactly the same as in the show and instead create entirely new moments. However, due to the nature of the plot, there will be some parts I just can’t avoid.
This story is also available on my Wattpad and AO3 accounts, in both Spanish and English. (username: softflowerjin), so feel free to check it out there if that’s more convenient for you.
Could you do one where reader is the best friend of Clarke who was apodt by her parents when hers died when she was 5 so there more like sisters reader was also in prisoned for helping Clarke and her father when they land on earth Reader stays close to Clarke for awhile till she slowly become friends with john Murphy surpisibg every one cause no one trust him she the only one he's nicest to even protecting her they end up dateing in secret for awhile sneaky off and stuff together eventually Clarke and everyone finds out Clarke's not happy but dost stop us but threaten John as the series go they fall deeper in love they choose to stay on earth with Clarke and others and end up basically married
something we shouldn't be
request: yes - thank you so much for being my first req! i had a lot of fun creating this, so let me know what you think <3
summary: angsty romance - after being adopted by the griffins, you and clarke grew up like siblings. but on the ground, everything changes—especially when you start falling for john murphy, the last person anyone trusts. secrets don’t stay buried forever.
warnings: none really - i mean murder is mentioned but literally just the word, angsty/moody, very brief description of violence (not towards reader) - if you think i have missed any, please let me know
pairing: john murphy x reader (gender neutral)
word count: 1,716
the sound of the drop ship landing still rings in your ears long after the ground stops shaking. you’re lying on your back, strapped into a harness that did nothing to stop your head from slamming against the cold metal wall during descent. there’s blood in your mouth, your fingers are trembling, and all you can think is:
we’re not dead.
a blur of motion snaps you out of it. clarke. she’s on her feet before most of the others, yanking at her restraints and checking on the girl next to her like this is just another exam in med class. you watch her work, grounded by the familiarity in her face—her focus, the slight crease between her brows when she’s worried, the way she checks your pulse twice, even though you’re already sitting up.
she was always like this. back on the ark, she was your anchor. your sister in every way but blood. when your parents were floated, it was clarke who found you in the corner of your quarters, curled up with your mother’s worn jacket and nothing left to lose.
she didn’t say anything then. she just sat next to you and stayed. she's still here.
“hey,” she says now, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “you with me?”
you nod.
“good. come on. we need to see where we are.”
outside, earth is everything you were never allowed to dream about. wind that smells like pine and wet dirt. trees that go on forever. a sky so open it makes your chest ache.
but beauty doesn’t make it safe.
bellamy is already stirring up trouble, and kids are pulling off their wristbands like they’re a curse. chaos brews beneath every face. most of them don’t care about survival. they care about freedom, and what they can do with it now that no one’s watching. you and clarke try to organize something—anything—but it’s like herding cats. angry, terrified, hormonal cats. that’s when you first notice murphy.
john murphy—short fuse, acid tongue, a smirk like he’s always two seconds away from starting a fight just to see how far he can push someone. you remember him from the skybox. he’d been on a different level, but you’d heard the rumors. theft. assault. some even said murder. you didn’t care enough to ask back then. now, he’s loud. picking fights. laughing too hard. he scares people, and maybe he likes that. you stay away.
however, it didn’t take long for your paths to cross - the first time you talk to him, it’s because of a misunderstanding.
a kid named miles is accusing murphy of stealing extra rations. there’s shouting, shoving. clarke is trying to mediate, but murphy’s jaw is clenched and his eyes are daring someone to hit him. you’ve seen that look before. it’s not about hunger. it’s about being cornered.
“hey,” you say sharply, stepping between them. “check his pack before you point fingers.” you said, jerking your head slightly in miles’ direction. it’s a gamble. but sure enough, miles has an extra tin stashed under his jacket.
murphy blinks. once. then twice. he says nothing, just watches you with that hard, unreadable stare.
later that night, while everyone else is celebrating the “justice” you helped deliver, you catch murphy sitting alone near the treeline, sharpening a knife with short, precise strokes.
“you didn’t have to back me up,” he says without looking at you.
“no,” you agree, “but i hate liars more than i hate you.”
he lets out a low laugh. “that supposed to be a compliment?”
“don’t push it.” you leave him there. but your curiosity doesn’t.
---
you don’t mean to keep finding yourself around him, but as the weeks pass it seems to be happening more and more often. sometimes it’s during shifts—he takes night watch more often than most. other times it's a coincidence. he never starts the conversation, but he doesn’t walk away either.
what surprises you most is how normal he can be when no one else is around. his walls are high and bristling, but you’re starting to see through the cracks. a joke here. a grunt of approval there. one night, you catch him whittling a small carving of an animal—maybe a wolf or a dog, it’s hard to tell.
“you make that?”
murphy shrugs. “something to do with my hands. keeps me from strangling people.”
you smile before you can stop yourself. he notices. and he softens. it unnerves you more than the scowl ever did.
---
clarke notices something's changed when you start laughing more—just a little. smiling at strange times. taking longer to return from watch duty. she doesn’t say anything at first, but her eyes linger on you longer than usual, narrowed with that quiet suspicion only people who’ve known you forever can pull off.
“who is it?” she finally asks one morning, cornering you at the stream while you’re washing blood off your hands from a skinned knee.
you freeze.
“what?”
“you’ve been sneaking off,” clarke says. “don’t pretend i haven’t noticed.”
you deflect and she lets it go. for now.
but the guilt starts to curl in your gut. because the truth is, you’re not dating murphy. not yet. not really. there’ve been glances. tension. a hand brushed against yours and neither of you pulled away. you’re close to something. dangerous. inevitable.
one night, he catches you watching him a little too long by the firelight.
“what?” he says.
“nothing.”
“liar.”
you smile. “takes one to know one.”
---
the first kiss happens after a mission goes sideways. grounders. blood. panic. you trip running from the clearing, lose your footing, and murphy is suddenly there, pulling you up with a firm grip and eyes wild with adrenaline.
later, bruised and breathless behind a fallen log, you look at each other for a long time.
“you good?” he asks, voice rough.
you nod.
and then you kiss him. or maybe he kisses you. you can’t really remember, but it doesn’t matter.
it’s brief. heat, fear and something fragile wrapped up in smoke and silence. when you pull back, he doesn’t say anything, just looks at you like he’s memorizing the moment in case it’s the last.
---
keeping secrets on the ground is like trying to hold water in your hands. you and murphy don’t talk about what happened that night in the woods. not directly. but something shifts. he walks a little closer when you’re in groups. his sarcasm softens around you. once, when you’re hauling supplies from a scavenged drop cache, his hand brushes yours and lingers for a heartbeat longer than it should.
the others notice.
it starts small. raven gives you a weird look after dinner one night. monty raises an eyebrow when you sit down next to murphy at the fire. but no one *says* anything. not yet.
“people are starting to talk,” you tell him one night, hidden behind the med tent. your voice is low, uncertain.
murphy’s leaning against the metal wall, arms crossed, face mostly in shadow. “let them talk.”
“you don’t care?”
he shrugs. “only care what you think.”
that makes your breath catch in a way you didn’t expect. you’re not sure when this became more than a distraction. but it has. the tension between you simmers, unspoken and constant. late nights turn into stolen kisses. whispered jokes become genuine laughter. there’s a night when you fall asleep next to him in the bunker and wake with his arm still around you—and he doesn’t pull away.
you keep telling yourself you’ll tell clarke.
eventually.
you’re coming back from the river with murphy, muddy and a little too giddy from nearly falling in. the two of you are laughing—really laughing—when clarke spots you. she’s standing just outside the gates with bellamy, arms crossed. the look on her face could freeze a wildfire.
“y/n,” she says tightly.
murphy’s laugh dies in his throat. he steps back, instinctively defensive.
clarke’s gaze shifts to him like a blade.
“i need to talk to you,” she says to you, not asking.
you glance at murphy. he nods, wordless.
she pulls you behind one of the tents. her expression doesn’t change. her voice doesn’t rise, which is worse.
“how long?”
you hesitate. “a few weeks.”
she stares. “so it’s not just... a thing.”
you don’t answer. you don’t have to. clarke closes her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose like she’s trying to physically push back a migraine.
“you know who he is,” she says finally. “what he’s done.”
“i know who he is now,” you shoot back, gentler than you feel. “you don’t see him when it’s just us.”
“maybe not. but i see how he treats everyone else. i see the way he picks fights, the way he—” she cuts herself off, jaw tightening. “he’s not safe.”
“he’s safe with me.”
“that’s not the same thing,” clarke says quietly. “and you know it.”
you don’t say anything. what could you say? after a long silence, she sighs. the fight drains from her shoulders, but not her voice.
“i’m not going to tell you who to love. i’ve never done that. i won’t start now.” she steps closer, and suddenly she’s your clarke again—not the leader, not the medic, just your big sister with too much weight on her shoulders and no room for more heartbreak.
“but if he hurts you...” Hhr voice breaks a little. “i won’t float him. i’ll bury him.”
you smile, despite the tension in your chest. “dramatic.”
“i’m serious.”
“i know.”
clarke pulls you into a tight hug, and for a moment, you’re back on the ark, two scared kids just trying to survive. when she pulls back, she nods once.
“be careful. with him. with you.”
“i will.”
and later that night, when you find murphy sitting at the edge of camp, tossing rocks at nothing, you sit beside him and whisper, “she knows.”
he flinches. “how bad?”
“she didn’t punch you.”
“what’s new.”
you glance at him sideways. “she did threaten your life.”
he smirks. “also new.”
you bump your shoulder against his. “she’s just scared.”
“she’s not the only one,” he admits.
and for a while, you both sit in silence—side by side, facing the dark. not a secret anymore.
NOTE: Deadpool and Wolverine appeared earlier, but as Worst Wolverine and Deadpool, which I was informed is different than normal Wolverine, so it counts as two different ships - just in case you're confused and wondering why you're seeing it twice.
Montamy (Monty Green/Bellamy Blake) vs. Deadclaw (Wade Wilson | Deadpool/James "Logan" Howlett | Wolverine)
