#grounder!clarke

[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

[notelcol]

In which John Murphy steps out of his comfort zone.

Trigger warning : blood, reference to violence.

No one asked for this one but it’s here anyway and vaguely edited 😈

(It came out a little longer than intended, I got ever so slightly carried away…)

When Murphy came back from the grounder prison camp, despite him being the bully of all the delinquents, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. What did Bellamy expect after exiling his once second in command? We should have seen this coming. The grounders would have been fools not to take Murphy for all the information he had. Blood was smeared all over him. You couldn’t tell where it was originating he had that many wounds. The image of his torture made you shudder. Even his fingernails had been ripped from his fingers. You looked away. Forgetting all the times you had needed to confront him to protect others, you made a choice.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked Clarke, the only person with medical experience.

“You can find someone to go with you to the path that leads to Mount Weather.” She said with a sigh. “The poison sumac there would be really helpful.” The tired blonde uttered her thanks, while you left to find Octavia. She would most certainly accompany you.

Murphy watched through one eye, since his other was tightly inflamed. He could not fathom why you would be willing to risk your life leaving camp, simply to acquire a calming herb to ease his plight. Especially because the last time you saw each other, you were fighting him to save a child. A child who murdered the chancellors son, and got him hung to within an inch of his own life. Murphy hated you for that, so why didn’t you? The child you were trying to save did die because of him after all. He was a black and white sort of man. One who never understood forgiveness. A person would come to blows once and that’s it, they are dead to him. He always stood by those very rules. Until you, who only fought him in the name of peace. Which is why risking yourself to help someone who truly needs it, came natural to you. Even if it meant giving a second chance to someone like Murphy.

Unfortunately none of the hundred felt the same way as you. After failing to find Octavia, you begun asking around camp for someone to go with you. When that also failed miserably, you decided to grab a gun and head out alone.

The expedition went as well as you could have hoped. You did not feel the many eyes of the forest on you for once. In fact, it was so calm outside of camp that it almost spooked you. You decided to grab extra of the plant while you were there, to save Clark and Fin a job. Finally, your bag was full and it was time to turn back. You realised that you were a little bit out of breath after a few steps. You must have been picking the flowers for longer than you thought.

The walk back to camp felt much more tiring, so your feet began to drag. You could feel the sweat dripping all over your body, particularly annoying you around your top lip. Huffing, you removed your coat and wiped away the sweat from your face with it. You moved to tie it around your waist, only to be hit by a wavering buzz. It sent your whole body spinning. You watched your coat drop to the floor and finally noticed the blood. All that blood, covering most of the garment. You were so dazed that you didn’t even notice you had fallen.

“Get. Up.” You growled to yourself. Sputtering thick crimson, you clawed at the mud. This must be biological warfare. Your symptoms too similar to Murphy’s to be a coincidence. This revelation only cemented your determination to get this poison sumac back to camp. If you had caught it, then others must have too. Your mind went round in loops while your arms refused to rest. Until you inevitably exhausted yourself and dropped your head to the forest floor.

Murphy was finally starting to feel better. The countless patients in the drop ship could not say the same. As he gave water to a quiet girl named Fox, the fabric around the drop ship door ruffled loudly. Miller came rushing in with you slumped in his arms, blood and dirt covered you to the point where you were almost unrecognisable. He watched as you were dropped into a hammock. A strange feeling, one he could not identify, filled his chest as your bag spilled open revealing the many poison sumac flowers you had brought back.

You awoke to the feeling of something cold and wet on your forehead. You groaned at the heaviness in your lungs, which only caused the blood to gurgle and spurt from your mouth. As you choked, your eyes shot open to be faced by Murphy. His eyes almost went as wide as your own as he quickly removed the cold cloth from your head and pushed you onto your side. Your breath shook in relief. Instantly oxygen came easier, and the blood drained away.

“Rest.” He spoke in a softer tone than you thought was even possible from Murphy. Of their own accord, your eyes fell closed once more. The blood was wiped from your face in a manner that felt more like caress, helping you drift away peacefully to your dreams.

For the first time in his life, Murphy had entered his personal grey area. Your undeserved kindness showed him the world through a lens other than his own rage and paranoia. He decided then and there that he would take care of you until you recovered. Allowing himself to believe it was getting even, when really it was something else entirely. It was simply another thing he had yet to understand.

[xenaisnumber1]

My sexuality is girls from primitive misunderstood societies falling for the enemy, confess their undying love and are willing to die for their girl.

Dammit I forgot them.

[vmplvr1977]

Chapter 26 of Whims/Winds of Fate/ Destiny is posted!!!

Most couples have a quaint tale of how their relationship began. A meet-cute, of sorts, where two people destined to be together, whether as friends or lovers, share a random moment that changes everything. Usually, it is bumping into a stranger and spilling a drink all over their new shirt. Or two people who pass each other only moments apart at the same coffee shop for years before fate finally intervenes.

Clarke's first meeting with Lexa was nothing like the movies. Nor was it a tale to share with friends and family without extensive revisions. Still, it was clear that destiny had brought them together.

OR

A serial killer is on the loose, and the bodies left behind suggest a vampire is the culprit. Hoping to avoid a war with Heda's vampires, Abby sends Clarke to investigate, resulting in a fateful meeting. Following their steamy introduction, Clarke can't get the Vampire Queen out of her mind. Once known for being a player, the alpha ignores all potential paramours, hoping to win Heda's heart as fate forces them together to hunt a murderer.

[hd-junglebook]

Neutral 8

This part may suck BUT I am slowly trying to get back into the story so skim through this and don't be mean.

You stared up at the endless blue sky, watching the clouds slowly drift by as the earth continued its endless orbit. The faint smell of burning metal filled your nose as a gentle breeze ruffled your hair. ‘I wonder if they'll ever find us down here,’ you thought, your hopes fading with each passing minute.

Around you, the search party members shouted to one another, their voices echoing off the mountainsides as they frantically pushed aside debris.

‘She can’t be dead. She hated me but she would never leave me like this. Why did I have to try to prove myself? Please come back...please,’ you silently pleaded, even as your weary body begged for rest.

Clarke mirrored your determined attitude, the dark circles on her face were more prominent in the bright sun while she meticulously scoured the debris strewn across the mountain.

Every step brought you closer to Clarke, her gaze fixed on some viscous liquid oozing from a ruptured container amidst the rubble.  

"Clarke," you called out softly, she turned to face you reluctantly meeting your gaze. "What’s wrong?" you asked, your curiosity piqued by the sight before you.

Without a word, Clarke gestured toward the oozing liquid, her expression troubled. You followed her gaze, crouching down as you took in the scene before you. The pink liquid dripping to the ground, its pungent odor assaulted your senses, causing you to recoil instinctively.

Suddenly, Clarke's voice shattered the tense silence, her cry of "Oh!" echoing through the desolate landscape.  Raven reacted swiftly, sprinting up the slope to join you both.

Her eyes were wide with concern as she assessed the situation, her sharp mind already racing to decipher the cause of Clarke's distress.

"Y/n, stop! Get away from there" Raven shouted as she reached your side. You both turned to Raven, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "Rocket fuel?" Clarke questioned.

Raven nodded grimly, her features drawn tight with concern. "Hydrazine... Highly unstable in its non-solid form. If this stuff meets fire, we're all pink mist."

“Suddenly I don’t think that would be too bad.” You started, recovering from your crouched position beside Clarke. She shot you a sideways glance. "Are you serious?" Raven huffed with disbelief as she struggled to comprehend your words.

"Watch this," Raven declared as she reached for a nearby object. “Fire in the hole!” You and Clarke ducked for cover as Raven hurled it toward the pink liquid with a swift toss, the impact causing a small explosion that sent debris flying in all directions.

The explosion was deafening, and the heat was intense, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as the rocket fuel burned away.

Bellamy's commanding voice reached your ears, “We move in formation, no straggling, weapons hot. We've got to get back before dark," he bellowed like a clarion call to action.

Without hesitation, the group began to fall in line, their movements synchronized and purposeful as they prepared to venture back into the woods. You remained rooted to the spot for a moment longer, your eyes scanning the debris-strewn landscape one final time.

As you lingered amidst the wreckage, lost in thought, you felt a presence at your side. Bellamy had come up beside you, "that means you too, Hestia," he remarked, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of affection.

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "Just taking one last look," you replied, turning to face him. His soft eyes met yours, filled with warmth.

"We'll find her," he said, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. "But not if you work yourself to exhaustion. Come on, let's head back." You nodded, allowing him to guide you away from the wreckage.

His hand dropped to the small of your back. He was right - you had been pushing yourself too hard. But you wouldn't stop looking until your mother was found.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you silently made that promise once more. Bellamy's hand pressed more firmly against you, as if he had heard your unspoken words.

…

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you pushed your way through the throng of people. The air hung heavy with the oppressive heat of the sun, the stench of sweat and dirt permeating your nostrils. Bellamy walked ahead of the group, shoulders tense and his head held high while the rest of the group trailed behind.

 As you approached the gate, the commotion grew louder, the voices rising in pitch with each step you took. The gate creaked open with a deafening squeal, and Octavia emerged, her eyes wide with fear.

She swallowed thickly before rushing forward, “Bellamy...” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

You pushed your way towards the front where Clarke and Bellamy stood, “Octavia whats wrong?” you demanded. The three of you shared a look as everyone waited for her to speak. “We found something bell. Its in the dropship.”  

With that, Octavia turned and headed back inside, guiding the three of you into the ship. The camp's stragglers dispersed around the perimeter, their voices fading into the distance. You followed closely behind Octavia as she ascended the metal ramp, the sound of her heavy footsteps echoing through the cavernous interior.

Once you reached the top, Octavia pushed back the plastic tarp covering the entrance, your breath caught in your throat at the sight that met your eyes.

John Murphy lay slumped against a wall, his once-blond hair matted with dried blood. His eyes were closed, his face covered in an excessive amount of cuts and dirt.

You and Octavia exchanged a grim look. Murphy had always been a thorn in everyone's side, but he didn't deserve this. “Everyone but Connor and Derek out... Now!" Bellamy emphasized

"We caught him trying to sneak back into camp," Connor stated, his voice low but firm, eyes narrowed as he assessed Murphy's reaction.

Murphy's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering briefly towards Bellamy before returning to Connor. "I wasn't sneaking," he retorted, his tone sharp with frustration. "I was running from the Grounders."

Bellamy, arms crossed over his chest, stepped forward, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Anyone see Grounders?" he questioned, his voice a blend of skepticism and curiosity.

Connor shook his head, his eyes darting around the cramped space of the dropship as if searching for any sign of the elusive enemy.

"Well, in that case--" Bellamy began, lifting his rifle at Murphy before you began to panic, placing yourself between Bellamy and Murphy.

Your gaze flickered nervously between the two men, uncertainty clouding your features as you struggled to find the words to intervene.

Murphy's fate hung in the balance, and though you knew his actions had been reckless and foolish, there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind urging you to spare him.

"Wait," you interjected, your hands trembled at your sides, fingers curling into fists as you searched desperately for a reason, any reason, to convince Bellamy to show mercy. Bellamy's gaze softened slightly; his expression thoughtful as he considered your words.

"We were clear what would happen if he came back," Bellamy reiterated, his tone firm, uncompromising.

You took a shaky breath, summoning all your courage as you spoke, your voice steadier now, but still laced with uncertainty. "We... we don't know the full story," you ventured, your words hesitant but earnest. "Maybe... maybe there's more to it than we realize."

Clarke's voice sliced through the tension that had settled over the group like a sharp blade. "No," she declared, Clarke stood tall, her stance resolute, her eyes locking with Bellamy's in a silent challenge. "Y/n is right."

The soft glow of the flickering firelight illuminated her features, casting a warm, golden hue across her determined expression.

Bellamy's jaw tensed, his gaze bore into hers, as he bristled at Clarke's assertion. "Like hell he is," he retorted, his tone laced with frustration. "Clarke, think about Charlotte."

You couldn't stay silent, not when the memory of Wells's death still lingered like a specter in the shadows of their minds. "We are thinking about Charlotte," you interjected, your voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with a bitter edge. "Or did you forget what she did to Wells?"

Clarke knelt down beside him, her fingers grasping Murphys hand, she flexed It back and forth. “He's not lying,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “His fingernails were torn off. They tortured him."

Bellamy hesitated, torn between his sense of duty and the gnawing doubt that tugged at his conscience. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he relented, his shoulders slumping in reluctant agreement.

"Fine," he conceded, his voice heavy with resignation. "But if this goes wrong, it's on you." His gaze flickered toward Murphy, lingering for a moment before shifting back to Clarke and you.

…

“You need to practice shooting, Y/n. After yesterday, we can’t take any more chances with these grounders,” Bellamy insisted.

“And what if I don’t want to?” you challenged, a hint of defiance in your voice.

“I wasn’t giving you a choice,” he replied back just as fast, his words leaving no room for argument. You hid your giddy smile behind your hand as you followed Bellamy and the group to the makeshift shooting practice area.

Miller and Monroe lined up the empty ration cans, preparing for the practice. Clarke strutted over to join the group, picking up a gun and readying herself for the competition.

Sensing the competitive energy in the air, you accepted the challenge without a thought.

"On the count of three, I want you guys to start," Bellamy announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. You nodded in reply, feeling the weight of the rifle against your shoulder as you lined up your shot.

“One, two... three,” Bellamy counted, and with precision, you fired at the first tin. It flew back off the log with a satisfying thud to the ground.

Swiftly, you moved on to the next target, hearing Clarke finish her second shot. You took aim at the third can, your senses heightened as adrenaline surged through your veins.

Two shots sounded in quick succession, echoing through the clearing. Both you and Clarke hit the targets with pristine accuracy. The group cheered in approval. “Who needs men when you have us?” You joked to Clarke, gaining a big smile from her for the first time today.

shouts and cries rang out from the perimeter. "Clarke! Where's Clarke?" Connor's voice, hoarse with desperation, his words punctuated by fits of coughing. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

Clarke's brow furrowed in concern as she moved towards his voice, "Connor?"

"It won't stop," Connor's voice drifted through the air, strained and ragged, each word punctuated by the gut-wrenching sound of his coughs.

"Clarke! What's happening?" Raven's voice joined the chorus of cries, her tone frantic with worry. Your breath caught in your throat as you witnessed the sight that greeted Clarke's eyes.

Horror washed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its icy grip. "Oh, my God, Clarke, your eyes," you gasped, the words tumbling from your lips in a hushed whisper.

You moved instinctively to approach her, to offer whatever comfort and support you could in the face of such a devastating revelation. But Clarke's hand shot out, a silent barrier that pushed you and Raven away with unexpected force.

Her eyes, once bright and vibrant, now held a haunted emptiness that sent a shiver down your spine. The color seemed to have drained from them, leaving behind only a dull, lifeless gaze that spoke volumes of the horrors she had witnessed.

…

Clarke's hurried footsteps echoed against the metal floor of the dropship as she entered, her senses on high alert, her eyes scanning the room with an intensity that made your heart race. You followed closely behind, the weight of worry pressing down on you like a leaden cloak.

Murphy's presence loomed in the corner of the room, his figure tense and apprehensive as he attempted to blend into the shadows, a futile effort to evade Clarke's keen gaze. The air crackled with tension as she approached him.

"Murphy, hey, look at me," Clarke's voice was soft yet firm, cutting through the silence like a knife. She reached out, her hand gently gripping his shoulder as she sought to anchor him in the midst of his mounting panic.

Murphy's gaze flickered nervously, his muscles tensing beneath her touch as he met her unwavering stare. "I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the Grounders," Clarke continued, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within her. "What happened?"

Murphy swallowed hard, shifting his weight uneasily. "I don't know," he admitted, his words coming out in a rush as if he were desperate to convince her of his innocence. "I woke up, and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there, so I took off."

Clarke's brow furrowed in confusion, a hint of skepticism creeping into her expression as she processed Murphy's explanation. The pieces of the puzzle seemed to shift and blur before her eyes, leaving her grasping at fragments of truth in a sea of uncertainty.

"Bellamy, stay back," you urged, your voice tinged with urgency as you moved to position yourself between him and the infected. Bellamy's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze flickering between you and Murphy as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "Did he do something to you?" he questioned, gripping the rifle tighter in his hands.

You shook your head. "What the hell is this?" Bellamy demanded, his tone edged with frustration as he glared at Clarke, searching for answers in the depths of her haunted gaze.

"Biological warfare," Clarke stated, wiping her hands down her face in distress. “You were waiting for the Grounders to retaliate for the bridge? This is it. Murphy is the weapon." Bellamy's eyes widened in disbelief, the realization seemed to hit him like a physical blow, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Clarke's revelation settled over the dropship like a suffocating blanket, a heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of their ragged breathing.

Suddenly, the world seemed to blur around you, the edges of your vision blurring as if obscured by a thick fog. Your senses swam in a dizzying whirlpool, the world tilting precariously on its axis as you struggled to maintain your balance.

A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, tracing a path down your flushed cheeks as the heat of the moment pressed in upon you like a tangible force. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale.

With trembling limbs, you moved away from the group, climbing the narrow ladder of the dropship's interior. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the air thin and suffocating as you ascended to the third floor. Finally reaching the top, you stumbled into the cramped space of the third floor, the dim light casting long shadows across the metal floor.

Alone at last, the tears flowing freely from your eyes as you collapsed to the floor. Your knees cracked uncomfortably beneath the weight of your body. The tears mingled with the blood that trickled from your eyes.

you let out a choked sob, the sound echoing in the empty space around you. The tears continued to fall, unchecked and unbidden, as you surrendered to the overwhelming despair that threatened to engulf you.

"Will you stop crying?" it scoffed, dripping with disdain. Your eyes snapped open, scanning the empty expanse of the room in search of the face behind the voice.

But there was nobody there, just the echo of the words hanging in the air like a ghostly whisper. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you shook your head, trying to dispel the illusion that had taken hold of your mind.

A sudden weight settled on your shoulder, causing you to gasp in surprise. A hand, firm yet comforting, pressed against your trembling form.

Slowly, you turned your head, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to face the unknown presence behind you. And there, standing before you, was Diana Sydney, your mother.

The sight of her sent a jolt of shock through your system. Her hair was no longer the blonde that you once envied, once a shimmering cascade of blonde, was now charred and matted, wisps of smoke still clinging to the strands.

And her skin, once flawless and porcelain, was marred by angry red burns accompanied by the smell of char.

“Mom.” you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out tentatively, as if afraid she would vanish into thin air at the slightest touch. For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the silence between you heavy with unspoken emotions.

The sudden sharpness of the voice shattered the fragile moment like glass, snapping you back to reality. "Do you ever shut up, y/n?"

"No," you replied. "I don't."

[dedalvs]

I've made a new conlang Grambank entry for Trigedasleng! Jessie Peterson created a Google Sheets spreadsheet that conlangers can copy and fill out in order to share their work. I did one previously on High Valyrian, and now the Trigedasleng one is finished.. This won't tell you everything about the language, but it'll tell you a LOT in a very small space. If you'd like to do something like this for your conlang, the blank one can be found here.

[april-showers86]

[okmcintyre]

Day 30 | Day 2401

[justinewt]

Red Sky At Morning - THE 100 REWRITE Chapter Twenty-Six

[THE 100 MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (07/03/2024)

Summary: The group followed the map drawn in Lincoln's book to the sea but found no one there. Or so they thought. It wazsn't until night that the grounders they were looking for came for them and brought them to the one and only, Luna. But she wouldn't easily be convinced to help them, if she would be at all.

Words: 5.4k

Warnings: The 100 season 3 spoilers (episode 13 "Join or Die"; episode 14 "Red sky at morning"), same title as episode 14/ancient rhyme used by Sailors "Red sky at night, sailor's delight/Red sky at morning, sailor take warning"; fluff/romance, angst, a little blood, some violence

“It’s been an hour since we passed the airplane wreckage.” Jasper noted, following the map drawn on a double page in Lincoln’s notebook. The drawing was especially faithful, and Michelle was impressed by the Grounder’s skills. They wouldn’t have as much trouble driving around through the forest if he were still alive, but they didn’t have time to think in what if. “Seeing as we are using a map without any distances, it could be days before we reach Luna’s village.”

“At least we know we’re going in the right direction.” Bellamy retorted, focused on the road as he drove the Rover, Clarke in the passenger seat next to him. The confrontation with Emerson could have been messier, they were all there sitting at the back of the vehicle, except for Raven, Harper and Miller who stayed back. Michelle was slumped, staring into space while listening to the conversation quietly.

“We’re running out of daylight. We should stop in the sun, recharge the battery.”

“What sun? We keep going until it dies.” Clarke wasn’t wrong. One look through the window was enough to see the dark grey sky. It rained cats and dogs the whole time and stopped not that long ago. The trees were wet, their foliage and branches drooping under the weight of the water that fallen on them and gathered in the creases of the leaves, weighing down the wood.

“We keep going until we get to Luna.” Octavia chimed in. Both Clarke and Michelle gave the girl a look out of the corner of their eyes while thunder sounded in the distance and rain started falling heavily again. Octavia was understandably bitter at the whole situation, and no one really said anything. Jasper then flipped the notebook’s pages and showed another drawing to Octavia; a portrait of a woman with a thick head of hair. Her gaze, even as a drawing, was striking and severe. Octavia confirmed that it was the Luna in question.

“What do you think she’s gonna say when we show up to put an A.I. in her head?” Jasper asked sarcastically.

“Lincoln said she helps those that are in trouble. She’ll help us too.” Octavia declared. The three at the back were shaken when Bellamy suddenly pulled the car to a full stop, tires screeching in the muddy path. As she was slouched, Michelle slid off her seat and leaned on it to stand up, bending forward to peek out of the windshield while Jasper and Octavia kept talking about Luna and whether or not she would help.

“Backtrack.” Bellamy said in a low voice. Trees had fallen because of the thunder and were lying right across the road, blocking the way. “We’ll find somewhere where the trees aren’t so bad. Hey!” Octavia opened the backdoor and jumped out of the Rover. She wasn’t going to wait around and decided without a word that the whole ground would continue on foot. They all got out of the vehicle, following her in the rain. Michelle took off her father’s jacket, still wearing hers underneath, and put it over her head too keep dry. Jasper glanced at her after noticing she had two.

She shrugged, “What? I got mine and my dad’s, gotta make use of it.” He shrugged as well, nodding. While the others started running off, he rose his voice.

“Anyone hear the part where I said it could be days?”

“Stop.” Octavia stopped in her tracks, raising her hand. Water was rushing loudly nearby, and she looked around. She turned to Clarke. “you hear that?”

“Water.” The two girls took off and Bellamy still tried to warn them about whoever they could run into. Whoever might be there, they could indeed be hostile for all they knew. Michelle’s jacket fell down her head and onto her shoulders and she found herself too lazy to put it back up, and it was useless anyway, the rain had stopped already. One minute it was pouring, the other barely a few drops crashing on their scalps.

“They’re not hostile. Put the guns down.” Octavia then claimed, looking at her brothers before continuing to walk away. Michelle was standing next to him as Jasper joined the girls, her dad’s jacket resting on her shoulders as if it were a cloak when Bellamy put a hand on her backa dn they started running after their friends, going down the river cutting through the forest. They reached the sea a minute later, fog hanging over the body of water, but no village. It was silent, no more thunder either. Looking around, they saw a piece of land with piles of rock set up in a circle. Octavia checked the notebook. The stone circle was drawn on it, but there wasn’t any Grounder village. Maybe their village was further into the sea and not visible from shore. She ran to the stones, followed by the rest of the group.

“Isn’t a village. It’s just a bunch of rocks.”

“No shit.” Michelle said under her breath, slipping her arms back into her dad’s jacket’s sleeves now that they stopped running around.

“She’s gone.” Clarke said, desperate. Michelle then voiced her assumption, that the village was out in the sea, but it still didn’t help them figure out what to do now. Clarke turned around, following their gaze as they watched Octavia walk to the edge and kneel, leaning on the rocks as she let out a scream. The rest of them just looked at each other in a heavy silence. Eventually, they decided on making a fire. Bellamy was walking back and forth, bringing wood. Clarke stood up.

“It’ll be dark soon. We need to talk about what we’re gonna do.”

“We waitr until first light, and then we split up and search the shore in both directions.” Octavia declared without taking her eyes off of what she was doing, rubbing two long sticks together trying to start the fire, panting with the effort. When she saw a sparkle, she leaned forward and blew on it. A white smoke grew from it. She careful moved it to the pieces of wood set up at the center of the stone circle and kept blowing on it with Jasper. The fire then spread and grew over the wood. It was at least one good thing done.

“I agree. Lincoln wouldn’t have put this spot on the map unless it was important.”

“Yeah, if their village is out in the sea, maybe they come to check this spot to see if there’s anyone, and with the fire, hopefully they’ll see we’re here trying to make contact.” Michelle added, looking at Bellamy. He bent forward, picking up the notebook as she spoke and Octavia smacked his hand, urgning him to not touch it. He kept quiet for a second before crouching down. Clarke then agreed with her friend and the two moved closer to Jasper, on the other side of the fire while Bellamy attempted to talk to his sister, who was just ignoring him.

“Come on, O. How long?”

“I don’t know. I can’t even look at you…” She indeed avoided looking at him while she cracked some sticks, adding them to fuel the fire znd keep it going. She spoke through gritted teeth, staring at the flames, “because every time I do, I see Pike putting that gun to Lincoln’s head. I hear the gunshot. I see him fall.”

“I didn’t kill Lincoln.”

“No, but he is dead because of you.” She stood up, her tone rising with anger. Michelle, Clarke and Jasper were crouched by the fire, trying not to stare at the two siblings but it was obviously a little akward to be there in silence, in front of such a conversation.

“I came to you. You didn’t take my help. If you had just trusted me, I…” She threw her wood on the ground, and it fell, the pieces clattering against each other as she seemingly gave up talking to him, crouching down again. Clarke and Michelle stood up, looking at Bellamy walking away along the shore, alone. Jasper sighed and threw something in the fire, which turned the flame a weird shade of green.

“What did you just do?” Octavia enquired.

“Nothing. I just threw these in the fire.” He held a branch in his hand. Octavia stared at it as if she had just thought of something and picked up Lincoln’s book at her feet. She found a piece of a branch of the same tree in between some of the pages.

“Ugh. Signal fire. He was trying to tell us. Michelle, you were right.  They must be watching this place, waiting for that signal. This is how we contact Luna.”

“I’ll get more.” He threw one more bit into the flames and ran around to get others. The three girls smiled at the discovery but Clarke and Michelle both looked over their shoulders at Bellamy, still walking away in the distance.

“Should we leave him alone or should I…?” Michelle wondered quietly. Clarke motioned for her to go after him, adding that she would join them later. Michelle didn’t plan on trying to talk to him about his situation with his sister, he wouldn’t like that. She wouldn’t like it if he tried to come up to her to if she was in such a situation with her father, which she used to, back when she was with Murphy and he knew it wasn’t his place to really say anything, and right now it was basically the same. It wasn’t exactly her place to try to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do. He gave her a glance when he noticed her approach as he just stood there, facing the open sea, his arms crossed. She just tried to give him a smile as she sat down on a rock and his face relaxed a little. Michelle closed her eyes, the strands of hair falling along her face and stuck under her jacket, blown by the breeze, the sea wind caressing her skin. Her arms wrapped around her knees, she let her mind wander and lose itself in her memories. her mind quickly spiralled out of control, and she couldn't think about anything but how much she was worried about her father in Polis. She had a bad feeling. Her face reflected her trouble and her brows furrowed, her lips tightening. She rested the side of her face on her knees, looking at Bellamy and the forest sideways.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” He, at first, responded quite harshly, though she obviously didn’t take offense. His eyes wandered back to the fire where his sister still was. She straightened up, looking up at him. It was easy to tell he was saddened by how downhill his relationship with Octavia went, and there was no one but himself to blame. He did choose to side with Pike and let the latter get to his head. He almost lost any chance of Michelle and him ever being a thing as well. He looked at her, his eyes glossy, widened in fear that the damage he did to their relationship was undoable. “Michelle, I think I’ve lost her.”

“Give her time, Bellamy.” She stood up, facing him, her hand softly holding his arm as she gave him a compassionate look. “She’s gonna need lots of it. And there may be blood on your hands, but it’s not Lincoln’s. That was Pike.”

“He did it because of me. I let him.” He slightly shook his head, glancing at the fire, his eyes getting glossier as he struggled to keep the tears at bay.

“Pike wouldn’t do something just because of you. You didn’t want that to happen. You tried to stop it. Octavia will forgive you eventually…” He looked away from her as a tear rolled along his cheek and randomly glanced at the forest behind him to try to hide it. Michelle frowned in concern, taking a heavy breath and turning his face back to her with her hand, wiping away the tear with her hand holding his cheek. “Question is, will you forgive yourself?”

“Forgiveness is hard for us.” His eyes were wet, and his bottom lip quivered as he looked at the fire again. She followed his gaze and saw Octavia stare at them before turning around and walk away, a plank of wood under her arm.

“I’m not Octavia but, I get it.” Her hand slid off his face and rested on his shoulder. He watched her attentively as she spoke. “It took me weeks to forgive my dad – for something he wasn’t even responsible for but anyway… took me some time to forgive you for choosing the wrong side too. But what did it for me was that both my dad and you showed that you were sorry for whatever happened, whatever you did... And I grew to love my dad, I didn’t wanna be mad anymore, and I—” Michelle cut herself off, looking into the distance, towards the sea. She pursed her lips, pressing them against each other. She knew what she wanted to say outloud and maybe it was the right time. With a sigh, briefly closing her eyes before looking back at him, she added; “I love you.” But she quickly went on to say something else, a little embarrassed by her confession which was ironic since they did already kiss and sleep together a few times, “Your sister loves you too, Bellamy. She will forgive you, give it time. She’s angry but one day, she won’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“Michelle.” His brows furrowed sadly as a couple more tears fell from his eyes, and he turned his head to wipe them off with his fist. She gently held his face and drew him into a kiss. He then wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly and buried her face in her hair and she in his neck as he whispered to her ear, “I love you too.”

“Could you have imagined, when we landed on the ground, that we would say stuff like this?” He chuckled, a sob breaking through his laugh as he held her tighter. She didn’t exactly remember how she felt about him in the beginning, but she remembered she didn’t really like him. He was somewhat cocky and acted so sure of himself, but she smiled, remembering it was him who showed her how to use a gun, though she did have beforehand knowledge on those weapons. She had no knowledge of what it was like to love someone like this, but now she did, and she only had him to thank for it. Her lips quivered, thinking of her father out of the blue but she was way more worried than she would ever admit out loud. It wasn’t just a bad feeling. She was terrified to find out whether he took the chip, and whether she would have to kill him which she wouldn’t be able to do so, if no one killed him, he would kill her, because of Alie’s grasp over him and the fact she would never take the chip. She held Bellamy tighter as well, feeling like she had already lost her father. She was getting ahead of herself too much and she knew it, but she couldn’t help but let her mind spiral. She would keep it to herself for now, it didn’t feel the right time to draw attention to her own troubles.

They were staring off into the distance, standing in the dark of night, still on the shore, when Clarke finally joined them. The trio began to talk about Octavia again and Clarke thought the same as Michelle, she would forgive him if he gave her enough time. They talked about when Clarke left them, how angry he felt but that he didn’t want to feel this way anymore and what Michelle said earlier seemed to clock in. As they were comforting each other, saying they were there for each other, Bellamy turned his head towards the sea and alerted them when he saw figures stick out the water. They were taken by surprise, tackled to the ground forcefully, grunting. Michelle felt warmth around her eyebrow and felt the blood drip on her eylid. She had been slammed on the sand so hard, her face hit a rock, but it was better than the concussion she got the last time she hit her head. The strangers put something on their mouth before tying and gagging them and bringing them back to the fire, where a few other of them were holding at gunpoint, but with crossbows. Octavia and Jasper held their hands up while the three others were forced on their knees. The Grounder addressed Octavia in trigedasleng. From what Michelle made out of it, it sounded like questions.

“Why should we give you safe passage?” The man then asked in English.

“Lincoln.” He glanced at his companions upon hearing the Grounder’s name. “He sent us.” He then spoke again in their language and the people standing behind Bellamy, Michelle and Clarke removed their gags and frees them.

“What’s going on?” Bellamy questioned in a whisper. Octavia had no idea either. The Grounder took a few steps towards her and handed her something.

“What is that?” Clarke asked.

“Safe passage.” He said as he gave one to each of them.

“Octavia, wait.” Bellamy rose his voice when his sister drank whatever it was in the little vial. Her only response was that she trusted Lincoln, and the Grounder that gave them those specified that if she was the only one to agree to drink this, she would be the only one to go. Michelle was the first to follow her lead and drink the content in one go. Bellamy repeated himself, grabbing her arm too late, she had already drunk. The two girls looked at each other, Michelle knew she was feeling this same weird way as she did. She felt all her strength gradually leave her body. Her vision got blurry as she fought to stay up but when she took a step to balance her weight on her feet, her knee bent and her leg way under her and she collapsed to the sand, her head turned towards Bellamy as he caught her in her fall. His face was the last thing she saw before it went dark.

She frowned, awakened by a ray of sunlight, and leaned on her hand to sit up. The others had woken up too, and everyone was looking around in complete confusion, having no idea where they had ended up. They were locked in a large, rusted container, and sunrays penetrated through holes in the metal here and there. Their guns were gone, and Octavia realized she didn’t have her sword anymore. She banged on the wall and soon after, whether or not it was related, the doors at the end of the container opened, blinding the group for a moment as a woman entered, her face hidden at first as she stood against the light but it quickly became clear that it was Luna that was in front of them.

“Where’s Lincoln?”

“Lincoln is dead.” Octavia told her.

“Lincoln said that you would help us.” Clarke stepped in.

“Did he?”

“Luna, you’re the last of your kind, the last nightblood.”

“So Lexa’s dead as well.”

“Her spirit has chosen you to become the next commander. Titus entrusted me with the flame to give to you.”

“Then he should have told you that I left my conclave swearing to never kill again.”

“You don’t have to kill. To lead is your birthright. How you lead is your choice. Here.” She stepped towards Luna, holding the small box in which she kept the flame and handed it over to her. She carefully brought her hands to her to observe the small object.

“I recognize the sacred symbol, but what is that?”

“This is the flame that holds the spirits of the commanders, of Lexa. Will you take it and become the next commander?” They all hung on Luna’s lips, waiting for her answer, hoping she would take it. The suspenseful silence was broken by her negative answer as she rolled Clarke’s fingers over the flame and pushed her fist away upon her refusal. They couldn’t believe they had come all this way for it to be over so quickly. Clarke glanced at her friends before running after Luna, calling out to her. She didn’t stop or turn back to them and just walked away. It was the group who stopped in their tracks, looking around in bewilderment. They were on a huge platform, an oil rig like the one Michelle saw on pictures, in the middle of the ocean.

“Everywhere I looked, there were fins. And teeth. And blood. I knew if they saw me, I’d be next, so I just floated there, waiting, praying they’d swim on.” Michelle stared into space listening with one ear the girl reading poetry in the hall of the Oil Rig. None of them was really paying attention. They were waiting, hoping for Luna to agree to help them and take the flame. A door opened and she entered.

“She’s here. Maybe she changed her mind.” Bellamy told the group, Clarke, Michelle and him standing up to go meet with her.

“The boats return at nightfall. Then you leave. Forever.”

“Luna, let us explain—” Clarke was cut off by the Grounder.

“I said no.”

“No, you need to hear this.” Bellamy stepped in front of her. She eventually looked at him. “There’s something out ther that is going to destroy us all.”

“Whatever it is, it can’t reach us here.” She walked pasted the trio and went to Octavia, telling her they needed to talk. Jasper took it as his cue to leave and got up, leaving the two women. Once Luna left, they returned to sit beside Octavia, having to wait it out since she was so against taking the flame and coming with them. In the distance, Jasper was chatting with the girl who recited poetry a moment ago.

“Jasper’s actually smiling.” Bellamy noted. He followed Clarke’s gaze as she looked at Luna, cuddling with her lover against the wall.

“Clarke. Let it go.” The latter glanced over at her best friend and shook her head.

“We can’t just leave.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice.” Octavia added, fidgeting with a tiny piece of wood.

“Maybe we do.”

“What are you talking about?” Bellamy enquired.

“I’m talking about putting this into her head without asking.”

“Clarke, we can’t do this.” Michelle leaned towards her.

“We can fight and go back to Arkadia. We arm up.” He added, agreeing with his girlfriend.

“Fight who?” She questioned. “It’s an army of our own people. I don’t like this any more than you do. But if Raven’s right, and the code on this thing can stop Alie…” Two Grounders came in shouting in their native language; She paused, glancing over her shoulder before turning her head back to her friends, looking a little hopeless. “Give me a better idea.”

“We’ll stay here. It’s the only way they’ll leave you alone with her.” Bellamy concluded. As Clarke was about to stand up, she was briefly stopped by Octavia addressing her.

“Even Alie gives people a choice.”

“We gave Luna a choice. She said no.” He shrugged, exchanging a glance with Michelle and Clarke, nodding at one another before the blonde finally got up and walked away. They met up again once it was dark, and dark it was out in the open sea. Aside from the light of the moon shining on the waves, and a few spotlights on the rig, it was pitch black out there and the whole oil rig was dead silent, as everyone was asleep. They were being led back to the container in which they awakened this morning as they were going to be brought back to shore. Luna was waiting for them by the container. Jasper wasn’t with the group and according to Clarke, he was saying goobye to his new friend, not that Michelle cared much what he was doing right now. They opened the doors and a group of Grounders stepped out.

“Sorry, Cap. You gotta take them back.” She turned to them. “You get your weapons once you land.”

“Inside.” While Clarke tried to ask Luna about the flame since the later took it from her after she tried to forcibly put it in her neck, the others were pushed inside the container. They didn’t try to fight, it was pointless. They failed at convincing Luna and now they could only leave this place. Michelle’s thoughts were already, and as always, on going to Polis to check on her dad. She was anxious to find out whether he took the chip or not and what would be left of him. This was her main concern at the moment. Then suddenly, the Grounders that walked out of the container started attacking everyone outside, stabbing and grunting and slammed the doors shut, trapping the group in the dark. Michelle was quick to understand they had somehow been infected by Alie as she came to realize they attacked shortly after Luna pulled out the flame to show Clarke.

“They’re locking us in.” Octavia exclaimed, alarmed. Clarke started banging on the wall and shouting, eager to find out what was going on.

“They took the flame. Soemhow, while they were on land, they took the chip. Luna’s safe haven is compromised now.” Michelle said with a sigh.

“Yeah. Alie’s here.” Bellamy added, agreeing with her. Clarke looked at them, speechless, not knowing what to do, or how to get out of there. They had no weapon, nothing to free themselves while Alie’s minions tried to take over the oil rig. They only had a flashlight. Holding it in front of her, Octavia walked around the container while Bellamy tried to nudge the doors open.

“How did Alie even find this place?” Octavia wondered, kicking in the wall with anger.

“There was a drone at Niylah’s. She must’ve followed us looking for the Flame and now she has it.” Sat on the floor, Michelle looked at him while Clarke was frowning, her gaze staring into space. “She’s gonna put the AI in Luna.”

“She’d have to chip her first. If Luna’s chipped before she gets the AI, Alie’s gonna know everything. We’ll never be able to stop her. We can’t let that happen.” She sprung up on her feet and walked with a determined step towards the door, banging on it and shouting. Everyone ended up just sitting down in silence, trying to wait it out, or wait for someone to come open the door. There was nothing they could do from the inside. They were locked up, end of story.

“This place was safe until we got here.” Octavia spoke, flashing her light at the wall, up and down, aimlessly. They had no idea how long it had been, but they all turned their heads instantly and got on their feet when they heard the lock clancked against the door, meaning someone was messing with it. The door opened and they jogged outside, thinking it was Jasper who freed them, only for them to find the girl he was chatting with, gasping on the ground with an arrow in her shoulder. Clarke kneeled by her side and the girl tried to speak.

“Machine room… B level…” then she gave her final breath and they left her there, unable to do anything else. She was dead. Michelle gave her a horrifief glance out of the corner of her eyes, looking at the blood covering hre mouth and chin. It reminded her of when she had been infected with that weird blood fever back at the dropship, months ago. Or when she had her hands slashed, and her leg pierced through with a drill. She had had her share of her own bloodshed, but it was still not something she liked to see. They ran through the rig and got to their destination. Octavia ignored her brother’s warning, telling her to be careful and ran inside the machine room. They found Luna, on the ground, holding her lover, her other hand around the handle of a knife plunged into the man’s chest. Jasper was hanged by his wrist on the other side of the room. Two other grounders, those that came on the rig chipped were dead. A young girl was curled up near one of the bodies, she’d probably been used to pressure Luna into accepting the chip or something like that. Bellamy went to check on her while Michelle and Octavia cut Jasper down, and Clarke went to Luna, who let out a bloodcurling cry when her partner let out his final breath. Michelle felt her pain and looked at her, her mouth frowned slightly, her lips twitching. She was wailing, holding his body close to her, her face distorted by the heartbreak and grief, caressing his face and apologizing for what she had to do while sobbing.

Once she somewhat calmed down, the whole lot of the Oil Rig’s inhabitant gathered for the funeral ceremony. Michelle, Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia and Jasper were standing there in a corner. They had to wait for Luna to come to them when she was done.

“Any of them could be chipped, and we’d never know.” Bellamy whispered, her eyes glazing over the room.

“If they are, they’ll make their move before we put the Flame in Luna. Stay sharp.” Clarke watched as Luna came towards them, accompanied with another girl.

“The ceremony is about to begin.”

“I’m so sorry. But now you see what we’re facing. An enemy who will do anything to win. She won’t stop until she had everyone.”

“People I love died today. Needlessly, by my hand. I can’t let that happen.” Luna looked down at the Flame, held in between her fingers. She turned her back to them, facing everyong in the room. They all stood up, cups in their hands. The group had been giving cups too. “As we prepare to give our brothers and sisters to the sea, we honor their lives.” They spoke in their native language in unison, and everyone drank from their cups quietly. Luna turned back to them.

“I we’re gonna do this, we have to hurry. Alie will send reinforcements. We have to find some place private to perform the Ascencion.” Luna stared at her with an impassible face.

“You believe that to defeat an enemy who will stop at nothing, you must stop at nothing. How is that different than blood must have blood?” As she spoke, Michelle slightly frowned and squinted her eyes. For some reason, her mind felt clouded, and she began to have trouble on what was being said, looking into space, trying to focus her eyes. She took a step to the side as her sight began to sway, or maybe it was her body. She raised her hand, trying to reach for Bellamy’s shoulder and he grabbed her arm, catching her as she fell, but ended up collapsing in turn, his arm stretched out under her head. Their cups had broken to pieces on the ground. She opened her eyes and sat up with a start, a little disorientated still. Bellamy was already awake, walking around with his weapon in hand, watching over the others, still passed out. She put a hand to her eyebrow, the little cut that she had gotten after hitting her head on a rock before being transported to the Rig, had been stitched. Well, she was at least thankful for that. Her eyes went on the hand held out in front of her and looked up to Bellamy as she grabbed his hand and he pulled her on her feet. Movements caught their eye, and they glanced over at Clarke who woke up, checking the box put in her hand, to see if the Flame was inside. They exchanged a nod and kept on walking to the shore while Octavia and Jasper came back to their senses as well. They failed to convince Luna. And they were now back to square one.

“Now what?” He asked, turning his head to Clarke as all five of them stood in line, in front of the sea, clueless as to what to do. Michelle had her sight set on Polis, and getting news from her father, after being separated from him for three days. She had to chase away her bad feeling and keep hopeful that he was still alive and well.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (07/03/2024)

Published (06/19/2023) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64 @mirellef2001

[dragynkeep]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lexa-griffins]

How does Clarke react when she sees Lexa popping out her ass like that?

With the way she reacted to seeing Octavia's ass, my girl would probably faint seeing Lexa pop her ass out that way 😂

[ssaturnsapphic]

rewatching the 100 and finn pisses me off so bad, i can’t wait for him to die

[puthyflapps]

Yesterday I was thinking about this random string of consciousness I wrote in the tags of this post

But then I started thinking about like what if they moved past this issue but Clarke was still struggling to get Lexa to acknowledge her presence outside of their bedroom. So Clarke goes to speak with Raven to try and understand how she managed to whip Anya into shape and at first Raven spins a whole story about how ya know she just used her feminine wiles and skills of seduction to convince Anya to start acting right.

Clarke gives her one of those “uh huh yeah right” looks and Raven admits that she actually took a less dignified route and just cried one night. She cried to Anya and like cried hard. Hyperventilating and snot, the whole thing really and that did it! Clarke seems unsure about whether or not she believes the story at first so Raven explains that while Anya puts on a very tough front, she is actually a big softie and she cannot handle seeing tears.

And for a second, Clarke seriously considers using that method. Hitting Lexa with the blubbering, wobbly lip type crying

[the100isracist]

Idk if yall are still active but I just eagerly quit this show around early season two. I was kinda hate watching the whole way, but I started googling spoilers when I saw how fucked they were being to Lincoln and Raven (and more, but they’re my faves). Do you have any show recs that are similar with the shows “building a new civilization after tragedy” (minus the colonization and racism etc)

hey!

i actually binged the entire show recently and i can confidently say it was not as groundbreaking or cool as the showrunner believed. the first 2 seasons were incredible but it just devolved into a mess and the ending was so dark and horrifying. also the fandom was completely unhinged and did not need to act the way they did 😭

onto your question: yes!!!! battlestar galactica is what inspired me to watch the 100 in the first place. it very much shares the themes of mass tragedy, civilizational warfare, living in space, seeking a new home, and humanity fighting for survival without losing its soul. start with the 2003 miniseries (a three hour pilot) tho or it might be confusing. it also has diversity without the weird racist tones of the 100's diversity, although the cast is a lot whiter. the 100 has also obviously borrowed a lot of concepts and terms from it but i don't want to spoil you. all in all, it is one of the best shows i have ever watched and it delivers until its very last second.

lost in space is also quite cool. and i have heard good things about the expanse! another show that shares some themes (without the space element) is the society - very fascinating

[vmplvr1977]

Chapter 27 of Whims/Winds of Fate/Destiny is posted!!! Read it here!

Most couples have a quaint tale of how their relationship began. A meet-cute, of sorts, where two people destined to be together, whether as friends or lovers, share a random moment that changes everything. Usually, it is bumping into a stranger and spilling a drink all over their new shirt. Or two people who pass each other only moments apart at the same coffee shop for years before fate finally intervenes.

Clarke's first meeting with Lexa was nothing like the movies. Nor was it a tale to share with friends and family without extensive revisions. Still, it was clear that destiny had brought them together.

OR

A serial killer is on the loose, and the bodies left behind suggest a vampire is the culprit. Hoping to avoid a war with Heda's vampires, Abby sends Clarke to investigate, resulting in a fateful meeting. Following their steamy introduction, Clarke can't get the Vampire Queen out of her mind. Once known for being a player, the alpha ignores all potential paramours, hoping to win Heda's heart as fate forces them together to hunt a murderer.

[hd-junglebook]

Neutral

Part 5

word count - 3,753

You hover anxiously as Bellamy stirs, his dark lashes finally fluttering open. A relieved sigh escaped you. "Well, look who decided to rejoin the land of the living," you get out before he jolts upright, swearing under his breath.

Ignoring his body's protests, he demands hoarsely, "Where's Charlotte? Did you find her?" When you shake your head grimly, his fist slams a cargo crate so hard your ears ring. "Damn it!"

"Bellamy, you were unconscious, we had to..." His thunderous look cuts you off. With fire flashing in his eyes, he rolls his impressive shoulders and strides toward the hatch, determination in every hard line of his body. "Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let's bring her back while we still can."

“It’s not safe out there, especially at night!” you fire back, blocking his exit. “That mob was out for blood, they could still be hunting." He shoves past with an impatient growl.

"I'm going back out there at dawn, with you or without you. Before she dies out there alone." His jaw works, ladder rungs protesting under his grip.

You clench your fists, nails biting your palms. you follow him into the silent camp, the yawning night shadows beyond promising unknown threats.

…

You crash through tangled underbrush at Bellamy's heels, his voice a ragged bellow echoing Charlotte's name.

Bursting into a moonlit clearing, you skid to a stop beside him - there, crouched trembling against a mossy boulder, is the girl herself.

"No, please!" she shrieks as Bellamy lunges, scooping her flailing body up across his shoulder. Her cries shred the heavy air as he takes off running again, face carved in grim lines of purpose.

You hurtle after them, Charlotte's pleas and fists hammering Bellamy's back growing fainter as he drives on relentlessly through the woods away from Murphy.

Bursting from the trees near a rocky outcrop, Bellamy slows, swaying. In the distance you spy figures emerging from the woods - Murphy's gang.

As you brace for a confrontation, more shadows spill from the forest on your heels – Finn and Clarke emerge from the opening. Bellamy sets Charlotte down only for her to scramble in panic towards the cliff edge.

Murphy steps forward, face tortured. "Bellamy! You can’t fight all of us. Give her up.” he rasps. "We just want justice."

“Maybe not, but I guarantee I’ll take a few of you with me.”

He pulls Clarke against him, pressing a crude knife under her throat. "Back off and let us take the girl, or Clarke dies." Murphy roars. Finn rushes forward before Bellamy yanks him back.

“No, please. Please don’t hurt her.” Charlotte sobs. Charlotte's streaming eyes find yours as she teeters on the cliff edge. You inch toward her.

"Take my hand, Charlotte. I won't let them hurt you." Your steadfast gaze reflects the moonlight, shining with fervent promise.

“No! No, I have to y/n! this is not happening. I can’t let any of you get hurt anymore. Not because of me. Not after what I did.”

The girl's lips shape a silent "Thank you." As she steps back into open air, instinct drives you forward, fingers straining toward her fluttering hand.

But your skin only brushes her fingertips for a heartbeat before she slips away. Unbalanced, you pitch forward, a scream tearing from your throat.

Your flailing hand catches jagged stone, jolting you to a halt while white-hot pain lances up your arm. Suspended by one agonized grip over the fatal plunge, you gasp strangled breaths.

Willing your eyes open against the dizzying vertigo, you peer past swaying feet down into roiling darkness. There below lies Charlotte's broken body, framed by glittering rapids that promise no mercy if you relinquish your blood-slicked lifeline.

The roar of the rapids below fills your ears, drowning out all other sound as they beckon with their merciless embrace. "Oh god..." Clarke's horrified whisper reaches you, seconds before Bellamy's hard face appears over the cliff edge.

The rough texture of the stone bites into your palm, sending shockwaves of pain shooting up your arm as you cling desperately to your precarious perch.

Every muscle in your body strains against the weight of your own fear and the pull of gravity, threatening to send you hurtling into the abyss below with Charlotte.

Bellmay’s strong hands clamp your wrists, his fingers digging into your flesh with a strength born of desperation.

With a grunt of effort, he begins to haul you up, his muscles straining against the weight of your body as he fights to keep you from slipping away from him.

Finally, with one last herculean effort, Bellamy hauls you over the edge of the cliff, pulling you into a tight embrace as you collapse onto solid ground. Tears stream down your face unchecked as you cling to him.

For a brief moment you find solace in Bellamy's arms, the warmth of his embrace a balm to your shattered nerves. his expression darkens with anger, his features contorted with fury as he turns his gaze toward Murphy.

"Look what you did to her," Bellamy seethes, his voice a low growl as he advances on Murphy with menacing intent. "All of this... it's because of you. Charlotte. y/n." The subtle shift in his tone betrays the depth of his protectiveness.

Finn moves quickly to intervene, pulling Bellamy off Murphy before things can escalate further. But Bellamy's rage knows no bounds as he lunges at Murphy once more, his grip like iron as he lifts the man off the ground and holds him perilously close to the cliff's edge.

"If you ever come back to the camp," Bellamy snarls, his voice dripping with venom, "I will kill you." With Murphy cowed into submission, Bellamy releases him and turns his attention back to you, extending a hand to help you to your feet. Without a word, he strides ahead of the group, leading the way back to camp.

…

Upon reaching the dropship, you found Monty and Jasper huddled over a tangle of wires and circuitry, their expressions mirroring Clarke and finns. Curiosity piqued, you approached them cautiously, watching as they worked with feverish intensity.

"What are you four up to?" you asked, your voice tinged with both amusement and concern.

Monty glanced up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "We're hacking the wristbands. If this works, we can talk to the Ark!" he explained, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You pause mid-stride, skeptical gaze darting between their eager faces. "Come again?" Monty just waggles his eyebrows while Jasper grins.

Jasper nodded eagerly. "And we're about to make the final connection," he declared, his voice tinged with excitement as nudges your arm.

"Here - you wanna do the honors? That port right there Jasper.” Monty’s enthusiasm stirs an uneasy swirl in your stomach. Messing with your one fragile link to space seems risky, yet...

With a flick of a switch, Jasper completed the circuit, sending a surge of electricity coursing through the wristbands. In an instant, the devices sparked and fizzled, emitting a high-pitched whine as they shorted out.

The electrical surge hit your wristband, a jolt of searing pain shot through your arm, causing you to cry out in agony. With a gasp, you stumbled backward, clutching your wrist as the pain radiated through your body.

"Tell me that was supposed to happen," you rasp. Monty's grin falters a fraction at whatever answer he finds on your face, eyes darting guiltily to your injury. "Crap, I swear that wasn't-"

Before he can respond, Octavia bursts in. “What the hell?” Her query dies on her lips, eyes blowing wide at the smoking remnants.

Monty swallows thickly. "I was trying to signal the Ark, but... I think I just killed our only working wristbands." His confession lands like a blow, doubt and dread swelling to choke you.

In the fraught silence, Finn spins on his heel, storming outside without a word. After a weighted beat, Clarke follows

Octavia shoots Monty an amused look and goes to check on Jasper, leaving you alone with his shrinking form. Cradling your throbbing wrist, you level a pained stare. "Got anything to say for yourself, Prometheus?"

He scrubs both hands down his face, mumbling, “I just wanted to talk to my parents.” The broken admission elicits your unwanted empathy.

With a sigh, you nudge his hunched shoulder. "It's not your fault, Monty," you managed to say through the pain. "We just need to find another way."

Monty looked up at you, his eyes brightening with a glimmer of hope. "You really think so?" he asked, his voice tentative.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I know so," you replied, your confidence bolstering his spirits. "We just have to keep trying.”

…

You sit by the crackling fire, the warmth of its flames offering some respite from the chilly night air, the murmurs of conversation from the delinquents behind you drift into your ears. Their voices are a low hum, punctuated by bursts of excitement and speculation.

A chorus of shouts breaks through the night, and you turn to see the group of delinquents pointing skyward, their faces illuminated by the flickering light.

You rise from your spot and make your way over to them, noticing Octavia among their ranks.

"Bellamy!" she exclaims. “get out here.”

Bellamy emerges from his tent, adjusting his clothing hastily. Octavia gestures eagerly toward the sky, her eyes wide with excitement. "There!"

The delinquents exchange excited glances, murmuring amongst themselves as they watch the descending vessel streak across the night sky.

Bellamy listens to their chatter with a measured expression, his jaw set with determination. "We'll wait until morning," he declares, his voice firm with authority.

At his command, you reluctantly drag your eyes down from the intriguing void. But curiosity continues burning bright and restless within.

Octavias brow furrows in concern. "But what if the Grounders get to it first?" she asks, voice laced with worry. Bellamy meets her gaze, his eyes steely with resolve.

"We'll deal with that if it happens," he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. "But for now, we wait until sunrise. It's too risky to go out there in the dark."

With a final nod of affirmation, Bellamy retreats back towards his tent, leaving the delinquents to ponder his words in the glow of the fire.

The camp settles reluctantly back to routine, you drift toward Bellamy near his tent. "Aren't you wondering what the hell that was?" you ask before he can disappear inside.

Bellamy scrubs a weary hand over his face, glancing toward the glowing embers in the sky. "Could be just space junk. I'm not risking lives on some wild goose chase in the dark."

You bristle at his nonchalance when potential salvation might await discovery. "What if they sent something down to help us?" Before he can scoff, you play a sly card. "Or it has medicine your sister might need. Still willing to wait?"

His sharp look warns you've struck a nerve. After a taut minute, Bellamy growls out. "We wait until sunrise."

…

You slip past the boundary of camp, the thrill of potential discovery overriding any hesitation at venturing out alone after midnight. Hope for a message or aid from your mother quickens your stride through whipping branches and shifting shadows.

Chest heaving as you trudge up a steep, muddy slope, you grumble out, “Sure hope Mom packed a plasma rifle in that pod." you groan out. "Some gift shop souvenirs would be nice too - maybe a 'My ancestors got blasted here and all I got was radiation poisoning' t-shirt.”

Breathless minutes later, you emerge from snarling brush into a rocky clearing. You creep slowly forward, squinting. light glints off smooth metal edges - a compact pod lies half-buried in loose soil. Hardly the massive shipment you pictured.

Circling warily closer, you spy a small window and lean to peer inside at a girl about your age, unconscious, dark hair spilling over her tan cheek.

You exhale sharply in surprise, your breath fogging up the glass. Before you can process the pod, a stick crackles under a heavy boot at your back.

You dive for cover as Bellamy walks over. His shifting eyes solidify your suspicion - something isn't right here. He begins prying at the hatch, muscles bunched, and face stormy. 

As Bellamy straightens from his fruitless efforts at entry you step out, schooling your face neutral.

"Got something to hide in there, Bellamy?"

He startles violently before scowling. "Hell are you doing here?" One hand slides almost protectively across the pod’s opaque surface, prickling your unease. You cross your arms, matching his confrontational posture.

"I could ask you the same question. Why so jittery about this thing?" You nod at the pod, his hand still braced on it almost possessively.

Bellamy bristles, jaw tightening. "That's not your concern. Now get back to camp before you lead something nasty back here." 

You stand firm, tilting your head. "Oh I don't know...seems to me whatever has the unflappable Bellamy Blake all spooked must be pretty concerning."

His answering laugh lacks any humor, a harsh bark in the stillness. "In case you forgot, I'm a wanted man up there." He thrusts a chin skyward. "So yeah, anything falling down makes me jumpy, okay?"

You shake your head, frowning. "No, I think there's more riling you up about this pod specifically." Taking a step nearer has him tensing, so you change tack. "Look, what do you want with it anyway?"

Bellamy works his jaw, glancing aside briefly with an unreadable expression. But he regroups quickly. "I need what's inside, that's all you gotta know. Now walk away and let me handle this - it's for the good of everyone here." 

His vagueness fans your skepticism into defiance. "What's inside - the girl? Why do you want her so bad?" You watch him intently for any revealing tic. "Who is she, Bellamy?"

The muscle in his cheek feathers from clenching his teeth. "That's not..." He breaks off, exhaling harshly through his nose before fixing you with a glare.

"You think you've got me all figured out. I'm just looking to protect my sister, like I always do. That's all you need to know." 

Bellamy wrenches open the pod hatch with a grunt of effort. As he digs inside, you peer closer despite his glower warning you off. To your bewilderment, he emerges clutching only a small radio device, lips pressed thin.

"We're done here," he snaps, storming off without explanation. You watch Bellamy stomp away, radio in hand, realization sinking your stomach.

A faint groan draws your gaze back inside where the girl shifts weakly. As her eyes flutter open, she fumbles off her helmet, spilling dark hair over weary eyes. She hisses out a pained breath, gingerly probing at her blood-crusted hairline.

"Crap...that's not good," she mutters, blinking sluggishly at her crimson-smeared fingers before noticing you hovering uncertainly. "Oh hey! Who the hell are you?" Her bluntness startles a wry smile from you.

"I could ask you the same. I'm Y/N. Welcome home."

Crashing foliage announces new arrivals. You both turn sharply to see Finn bursting into the clearing, Clarke on his heels. The girl's face lights up seeing Finn but any greeting dies on her lips as he sweeps past you.

Because Finn isn't slowing his headlong rush toward her. In fact, he looks downright crazed, eyes glittering with overwhelmed joy. "Raven!" he cries raggedly, pulling her into a crushing embrace.

You glance at Clarke, taking in her expression shuttering closed. Her slight nod answers the question in your widened eyes.

…

You, Clarke and Raven trail after Finn toward camp, pressing Bellamy's mystery. Squinting ahead, Clarke spots him and barrels forward. "Bellamy!"

He turns too slowly, fake casualness oozing guilt. Clarke gets in his face, demanding, "Where's the radio that was in the pod?"

Bellamy feigns confusion poorly. "No clue what you mean..." Trailing off, he notes Raven stalking closer, brow arched.

"Cut the crap," she snaps. "We know you took comms from my pod just now." Bellamy's surprise fuels her fierceness. "Yeah, I know it was you. Recognized your name from when you shot chancellor Jaha. They're looking everywhere for you."

You grimace sharply at her words as Bellamy flinches before recovering his defiance. Before threats turn to blows, you push between Raven and Bellamy's bristling forms. "Where's the radio Bellamy?" Priorities first - prevent him destroying your sole link to the Ark.

"Jaha deserved to die. You all know that." Smugness wars with steeling himself as Raven advances unrelentingly. She halts inches away, eyes ruthless. "Well congratulations. You're a lousy shot. You didn't manage to kill him after all."

Staggered silence meets her revelation. Clarke exhales sharply while dread claws your stomach. “Bellamy, don't you see what this means? You're not a murderer. You always did what you had to do to protect your sister. And you can do it again by protecting three hundred of your people. Where's the radio?”

…

With a resigned slump of his shoulders, Bellamy capitulates, nodding sulkily toward the river. Without another word, you wade into the fast current, the icy water sending shivers down your spine as you search for the waterlogged device amidst the rocky riverbed.

Each moment feels like an eternity as you comb through the murky depths, your fingers brushing against smooth stones and tangled vegetation.

Your hand closes around the familiar shape of the device you haul it up from the water, its surface slick with river mud and debris.

You hold it up triumphantly, a weary smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back toward the shore.

When you resurface, Raven is practically hopping with impatient plans, her eyes alight with excitement before it drains from her face. "Oh fuck," she says disappointedly, “it'll take half the day just to dry out the components to see what's broken."

Bellamy's voice is thick as he responds, "Like I said, it's too late."

Clarke marches up to him, her eyes blazing with anger. "Do you have any idea what you did? Do you even care?!" she demands, her voice crackling with emotion.

Bellamy meets her gaze squarely. "You asked me to help. I helped," he states. Clarkes anger worsens. "Three hundred people are gonna die today because of you!" Clarke retorts with a trembling voice.

Before the tension can escalate further, Raven interjects with a pragmatic tone. "Hold up. We don't have to talk to the Ark. We just have to let them know we're down here, right?"

Finn nods in agreement. "Yeah, but how do we do that with no radio?" he asks frustratedly.

…

Back at the pod, Raven is a whirlwind of activity, organizing the delinquents as they strip the pod for spare parts to create makeshift rocket launchers.

"We need to launch those flares ASAP if we have any hope of saving those people. Finn, get that control panel to camp. You, pull out those fire circuits in one piece or they won't work.”

Clarke watches with a furrowed brow, her mind clearly preoccupied with other concerns.

"Will they be able to see the rockets from the Ark?" Clarke asks, Raven pauses in her work, casting a glance toward the distant horizon.

"Like the good book says, it's all about burn time and cloud cover." Clarke nods at her words. “I know your mom will be watching." she replies confidently, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

“I've never seen anyone love someone the way she loves you. You know that, right?"

As the others continue their tasks, you pull Clarke aside, "Hey, what happened last night with Finn?" you inquire softly. Clarke's expression darkens, her gaze dropping to the ground as she exhales heavily.

"We... we slept together," she admits unhappily, her words heavy with regret. "And now his real girlfriend landed on Earth."

You place a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering a wordless gesture of support as you both finish working together. You send a glare to Finn's back, watching as he kissed Raven before heading her instructions to take supplies back to camp.

…

Metal braces are secured in place, rockets carefully added and checked for stability. Anticipation crackles in the air like electricity as the final preparations are made.

With a chorus of cheers and shouts, the first rockets blast off into the night sky, leaving trails of brilliant light in their wake.

The sky erupts in a dazzling display of color, the flares painting intricate patterns against the backdrop of darkness. Gasps of awe and wonder ripple through the gathered crowd as they watch the spectacle unfold.

You find yourself caught up in the excitement, celebrating with Harper and Miller as the sky ignites with bursts of vibrant hues.

"Isn't this amazing?" Harper exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder. "Maybe they'll see them and send down a rescue team!"

Miller nods thoughtfully in agreement considering her theory, a grin stretching across his face. "It's possible," he concedes, "I've never seen anything like this," he admits, his voice filled with awe.

As the last of the flares fade into the night, leaving only the twinkling stars above, you catch Bellamy's gaze lingering on you.

For a brief moment, your eyes meet, and you offer him a small smile before turning your attention back to Harper and Miller.

…

Bellamy's voice cuts through the murmurs of the crowd, drawing Clarke's attention. "You think they can see it from up there?" he asks with genuine curiosity. Clarke gazes up at the sky, her eyes scanning the heavens for any sign of the distant Ark.

"I don't know. I hope so," she replies softly, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?" she adds with a self-conscious shrug, but Bellamy's odd look prompts her to dismiss the notion. "Forget it."

Bellamy's gaze drifts from Clarke to where you stand with Harper and Miller, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "I wouldn't even know what to wish for," he muses, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to Clarke. "What about you?" he prompts, his curiosity evident.

He follows her gaze, finding Raven and Finn nearby. A small smile tugs at the corners of Clarkes lips as Raven returns her glance with a reassuring smile of her own. "I'm not sure," Clarke admits cryptically, her gaze lingering on Raven and Finn before drifting back to the twinkling stars above.

…