#lincoln x octavia

[asassydork]

Don’t know why but I can’t stop comparing Lincoln and Octavia to Snow and Lucy Gray… like strangers to lovers to enemies with a serious heartbroken spiral of the survivor and the connection to nature. Two devastating endings and character changes that blew the events out of proportion. Aka Blood Reina v President Snow. Lots of murder.

[sheriheartsit]

endless list of my all time favourite tv ships; ♡ octavia blake & lincoln kom trikru {The 100} ↳ “He was my home.”

[allthebestnamesweretaken]

I’m sure I’ve said this before but Octavia Blake and Clarke Griffin, they could never make me hate you. You both deserved the world

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 6: Linctavia, Troubled

Lincoln/Octavia, Octavia-centric, ~1,200 words

For the prompt "Calm and its antonyms (troubled, harsh, furious, worried)" for July Break Bingo 2023 @julybreakbingo

This was originally going to include some more events and stretch a little longer, in a way that would have made better use of the prompt, but I got caught up in the atmosphere of the "intro" and decided, this is good enough as is. It's technically set in the same universe as one of my (many) unwritten WIPs.

*

The heavy clouds that have been following them for days finally burst, just as Lincoln and Octavia make it to the shore. Lincoln can't light the signal fire, and anyway, he says, Floukru would never send out boats in this sort of storm. So they pitch their tent just past the tree line and hide themselves there, claustrophobic and breathless, for thirty-six hours until the sky lightens and the violent weather starts to calm.

Octavia has never seen water like this in her life. For the first hour, she stands out in the whirlwind, lets herself get drenched. She's not tired of the rain yet, the tempestuous and harsh and vicious weather of the ground. Better, she thinks, than a slow march of the same, the same, the same, every single day, lights that rise and fade with a computer's rhythm, air recycled through machines. Better than that. Out here, the bitter, cold wind makes her shiver and the rain soaks through her clothes within minutes and then gathers slick and cold on her skin, weights down her clothes and her hair. The sound of it as it hits the ocean, turns the sand of the beach to mud, of the thunder rolling thick and close above her, roiling through a deep gray sky sometimes cut through with quick, sharp flashes of light, all intrigue and fascinate her more than they discomfort.

More than that, she simply cannot stop looking at the water. The ocean. Water without boundaries or barriers, water stretching out to the horizon's edge, water crashing with such power and force against the rocks at the land's end. Water foaming white and angry at its edges, and farther out a deep blue mixed with shades of black and lighter blue, spiked and uneven with waves, rolling over and over itself as if powered by an invisible engine deep underground. She gets caught up in the hypnotic rhythm of the waves. The turbulent blue sliding over blue, the power of the water as it hits and hits and hits the shore.

Lincoln stands next to her, squinting through the sharp needles of rain. He's trying to hold a jacket over them, but the partial roof only magnifies the sound of the raindrops; sheets of water slide down from it and splash against Octavia's back and legs.

He follows her sight line across the vastness of the sea.

"It reminds me of you," he says. She can barely hear him, even shouting. The storm swallows up his voice, blows it away on the wind.

"I don't see it," she answers.

Lincoln's shoulder bumps against hers. If he weren't holding up the jacket, he would probably try to take her hand. For a while now, since not long after they left the settlement, she's been quiet and hard to reach, and it's not out of spite that she's pulled in on herself, and yet she can't bring herself to stop. Living under the floor, she learned to keep her own company. She taught herself a quiet and a stillness that surprised and impressed the warriors she trained with, that startles and disconcerts those who've only known her on the ground. They’re more familiar with the version of herself she’s since unleashed. As soon as she stepped foot on earth, she told herself that all she'd know here was freedom. Here she could be loud, unfiltered, angry, passionate, wild. And she was, and she let herself be.

But when her energy runs out and the dust of adventure settles, she retreats again to the quiet, from the safety of bravado to the safety of her own inscrutable silence. Into this inner space, she allows people only slowly. Lincoln is there sometimes. Not always.

That first night on the shore, still damp and cold, huddling together for warmth in their tent, he asks her if she has regrets, and she stays silent a long time then, too.

He asks again, "Do you wish we'd stayed at the settlement? With the hundred?"

"No." She's tracing patterns on his chest. "We don't belong there. You'll always be a Grounder and I'll never be a Sky Person." Swirls and hearts and triangles, circles, spikes. The shapes of his tattoos, sometimes, which she's memorized. The words are a refrain now, a sort of prayer. "You said... you said Luna's clan is made up of people like us, right? People who don't belong anywhere else?"

"Yeah." He sighs, and she feels the deep intake and exhale of breath, lifting her up and settling her down again like the waves of the ocean outside. He sounds weary, like this is a tale he's told many times as well. "She'll take in anyone who... who's tired of the way the rest of the world is."

"That could mean anything."

He laughs, and nods. His hand slides up and tangles, heavy, in her wet hair. "Usually it means tired of the fighting, the blood lust. Everyone waiting for an insult or injury they can avenge. There's none of that in Luna's clan. They just... think totally differently." He lets his palm fall on her shoulder, briefly hugs her close. "It's a new clan. Not many people born into it. Belonging... doesn't mean what you're used to."

Belonging means family. Belonging means having people you'd do anything for, fight monsters for, give your life for. That's always been so deeply ingrained in her that she's never thought it out in so many words. She hopes he won't ask again if she has regrets.

"I've never done anything like this before," she admits, nuzzling the words against his collar bone, his cool, rain-drenched skin. "Just left." Not by herself, at least, not like this. Not of her own volition, without convincing, without force, in the absence of necessity.

"I have," Lincoln answers. "But I always came back."

Outside, a wild and unwelcoming sea. They'll cross it in boats when the weather settles. She tries to imagine herself, rocking up and down on those waves, heady with seasickness, breathing that cold and salty air she could just barely perceive beneath the storm, watching the shore move farther and farther away. She pictures the sky a near-colorless white, perhaps the crossing of a bird above, and as a soundtrack, the creak of wood, the splash of water against wood. Like a story she's been told. Around her more and more of the sea, and the land increasingly distant, until it's a line at the horizon, and the barriers between her and every almost-home she's ever known stacking higher and higher, stretching longer and wider. Once crossed, could she ever cross the ocean again?

A heavy, cold feeling in her stomach. Pinprick shivers along her limbs.

Lincoln holds her closer, rubs her back and sides, tries to warm her as the storm picks up again, lashes of rain against the tent, heavy winds shaking the nylon walls, cracks of lightning she can see with her eyes closed. The rhythm of the waves, the inscrutable sea.

Someday she'll see it wide and endless and calm, a jewel-like blue sparkling with glints of reflected sun. She tries her hardest to swallow down that irrational fear. She'll love the ocean then. The beauty and safety of it will finally become her peace.

[ember-not-amber]

I find it impossible to feel any remorse for Lincoln’s death and feel sympathy for Octavia grieving him bc I can’t find it in me to feel anything positive towards a predator.

[neritimneir]

My credo is: project can be finished, but ships never die.

[tvshowscouples]

If you love Octavia&Lincoln (The 100) and you want reblog or like,this is the link of my reblog couples :)

thank you!

[alannacouture]

Guess who decided “Christmas in July” is an actual holiday just for an excuse to write a Bellarke Christmas fic? … Yeah, I have a Bellarke Holiday fic problem, I know. Aaaanyway, you should totally come read it! It’s part 3 of my Bellarke Parenthood series, inspired by a comment from the amazingly fantastic @kateschechterxthorwasmyfirstotp to finally see Bellamy & Clarke confront Abby & Kane over the type of holidays they want for their daughter. It’s a little more angsty than the Mother’s Day & Father’s Day fics, but still full of fluffy Bellarke family goodness! So…please come read (& comment, because nothing makes me happier & I’m not ashamed to beg) ❄️🎄☃️🎁

[good-question-love]

[SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE 100]

has anyone else noticed that everyone lost their first "love" (quotation cause some of the following relationships had shitty development)

Abby lost Jake

Octavia lost Atom

Clarke and Raven lost Finn

Jasper lost Maya

Bellamy lost Gina

Lexa lost Costia (assuming she was her lover, don't remember if it was specified)

Luna lost Derrick (I think that was his name and assuming he was her first love for purposes)

Miller lost Bryan

Monty lost Harper

Jordan lost Priya

Gabriel lost Josephine

Echo lost Bellamy (or the real Echo, maybe. either way)

Everyone except Murphy (and well Jackson but eh). (okay technically she did die but he brought her so it doesn't really count) Like they fucked up his whole psyche, but they didn't take Emori. Why is he the only one who got any mercy?

Like they were merciless with everyone. Clarke lost all of her lovers in some way (Niylah betrayed her), both her parents, her best friend TWICE, and her daughter (not even to mention all the shit she went through to survive/save her people and all the hate she got for it, you don't gotta like the character just respect her ruthlessness). They made Bellamy a sheep (multiple times *cough* fucking Pike *cough*) and made his whole death pointless cause he was right and Madi gave herself up like immediately after (so fucking mad you don't even know). Raven lost her childhood best friend/lover after he cheated on her (her childhood for fucks sake), her leg, ALIE (that was bad in general but damn), had to stop her own heart to survive, and then Shaw. Jasper went through it before he took himself out. Monty was hated by his best friend (just the Mount Weather incident), forced to kill his mom twice, watched his best friend die, sent his son into danger, watched Harper die, and never saw anyone he loved again (hell, whether he died of old age or not is still up in the air, they never found a body). They threw sweet Jordan into a horror show by the scruff of his neck. Echo had a childhood for sure. Gabriel had lifetimes of fuckery. The fucking disservice to Lexa (and Lincoln) by having her be shot. Luna killed her own brother and lover then watched her entire clan die. Miller lost his dad and was in the bunker... Abby got her husband killed, the bunker, Kane, and then was just erased (POOF bye bitch👋 wtf). And Octavia (need I say more? I will tho). Raised under the floor, imprisoned for being born, mom dead, dad who?, Atom, Lincoln, Ilian, you are Wonkru or you are the enemy of Wonkru, cannibalism, watched her first kinda child die (Ethan), banished by her own brother, lost time with Hope, and lost Diyoza.

And Murphy went through it too. Like BADLY but he never had to live without Emori.

This post is nothing. I just think that's beautiful.

[oruali]

[allthebestnamesweretaken]

“I know you’re still trying to save me Bell, but you can’t save someone who’s already dead”

When I think about Octavia my heart breaks. Granted I haven’t watched the show in years, but I swear her soul died when Lincoln did. But when Hope was born she got some of it back. They could never make me hate you

[rivertalesien]

Octavia: Check out all of these knives. So cool. Lincoln: Jules is very skilled. He makes them for Heda. Jules: You wanna try one? Bellamy: I don't think that's--- Jules: I DON'T REMEMBER ASKING YOU A GODDAMN THING

[xnix07]

Nuevo fic !

«Lily Johnson, que nació en la Tierra hace más de 200 años, fue criogenizada y despertada en el 2249.

Ahora tendrá que hacer frente a un mundo totalmente nuevo, tanto así como antiguo y familiar, con el resto de Los 100.»

OC X Bellamy blake

S1 –> S7

Wattpad: LILIUM | THE 100

Usuario: xnix07

Idioma: español

[grapejuiceblueshs]

more Rockstar Clarke and co aesthetics

[ember-not-amber]

I’m watching “The 100” with my sisters rn, it’s our new show that we’re gonna watch together and there is no way you can convince me to ship Octavia and Lincoln, she’s like 16-17 and he looks like he’s 30. GROOOSSSS🤢🤮🤮