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moonylantsovs · 6 months

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RULES | 2.01: THE FORTY-EIGHT

summary: gabriella kane and what is left of the hundred get separated from the dropship camp after the battle with the grounders. people who gabriella buried and mourned join them on earth. when she finds out most of her people are missing, she is ready to go through whatever she has to in order to get them back ─ even if that means making a truce with the grounders

pairings: john murphy x fem!oc, bellamy blake x fem!oc ( slowburn )

warnings: best friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to allies to lovers, swearing, daddy issues, blood and gore, death, trauma, mentions of addiction

taglist: @lotr-got

series masterlist

Unwavering sunlight.

That was the first thing Gabriella Kane saw once she opened her eyes. The second thing she noticed was her location -- she was on the back of a moving horse in the middle of the forest. Over the pounding in her head, she could hear deep male voices speaking in another language, it sounded similar to English but it had a weird accent and the words were twisted.

"'Bout time you woke up. I was beginning to get freaked out."

Gabriella's head snapped to the sound of the hushed whisper and her eyes connected with Wells'. She let out a sigh of relief. She was glad that she was not alone.

When she tried to sit up a little, she felt that her legs were bound. She tried to move her hands next, only to realize her wrists were bound too.

"Great." The blonde huffed in frustration, tilting her head to connect her blue eyes with Wells' dark ones. "Well...I'm glad we spent so much time together before we died."

"How did you get to be such a dick, Murphy?"

Murphy flinched at the coldness in Raven's tone and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the metal of the dropship. "I'm sorry for shooting you, okay? I'm sorry for a lot of things I did and didn't do that day. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Let me guess. Mommy and Daddy didn't love you?" Raven continued taunting, ignoring his apology.

"No, they loved me." Murphy said, staring at his bloodied hands that lay in his lap, trying to keep the image of a teary-eyed Gabriella watching him leave through the hole in the dropship out of his head.

Raven made a noise of amusement in the back of her throat and mocked him, "Are you gonna cry, Murphy?"

"Screw you, Raven."

"No, tell me. I want to know." Raven spoke, venom in her voice, "How does a kid who's loved by his parents, who has the greatest girl in the universe willing to die for him, turn into a murdering psychopath?"

Murphy stared at the wall, refusing to make eye contact with the wounded mechanic beside him, and spoke "He gets the flu. His father steals medicine that turns out wouldn't help anyway. Gets floated for it and...his mother, she starts drinking pretty heavily after that and the last words she says to him before he finds her in a pool of her own vomit is that..." He swallowed a sob threatening to escape him "...is that he killed his father. Then, he finally gets the freedom he always wanted, gets sent to Earth with the only important person in his life, gets hanged for a crime he didn't commit, and then gets banished because a little girl could not handle the guilt of being a murderer...and when he comes back, he finds out the girl he loves has feelings for the guy that banished and hung him."

"Boo-hoo."

"How do you think they're gonna kill us?" Wells spoke up, in a hushed whisper, after what felt like hours of moving through the woods. They both knew trying to escape would only result in dying sooner and when Gabriella tried to ask them where they were going, she was ignored.

"I don't know, probably chain us up, torture us like they did with John. Or they'll just lock us up in a room together, alone. Until eventually we die from dehydration." Gabriella responded dryly, shrugging her shoulders as best as she could and giving him a mocking grin that did not quite reach her eyes. "That would be painful enough."

"You're hilarious, you know that right?" Wells deadpanned, annoyance dripping from his voice.

"Well one of us has to be." Gabriella sighed, closing her eyes in the hope the lack of light would ease her headache, only for her eyes to snap open in alarm when the horse Wells was on stumbled a bit and made the boy beside her fall onto the ground, right on his bad shoulder. Gabriella's shoulder wound would probably only leave a scar, his looked like it would not heal anytime soon.

Both horses came to a halt and the grounder that kidnapped them turned to glare at Wells, who was too busy groaning in pain to notice anything.

"On your feet." The grounder ordered.

"He can't keep up." Gabriella was quick to defend him. "Give him a minute."

The grounder ignored her and got off the horse he was previously seated on. While Gabriella desperately tried to get Wells to stand up with her tied hands, the grounder stepped in front of them with a murderous glare. "I said get on your feet."

"Come on, Charming. Get up." Gabriella hissed quietly, trying to lift the boy up by taking hold of his good forearm.

Wells weakly stood on his knees, giving Gabriella an apologetic look. Once the grounder saw he was not getting the reaction he wanted out of either of them, he took the sword in his hand and stabbed Wells' wounded shoulder, making him cry out in pain while Gabriella's face flashed in panic.

"That's one." The grounder spat "I lost three hundred."

"Give us a minute and we'll get going." Gabriella glared but her face turned pleading as she spoke her next words. "Just let me help him."

The blonde did not wait for a response before she looked down at a half-conscious Wells, who was looking up at her with hooded eyes.

"If you die I'm gonna kill you, you hear that, Junior? I'm gonna kill you." Gabriella rambled, putting pressure on his wound, just like she had seen Clarke do multiple times. "You're not dying before we get back to Clarke. And even then you can't die" She let out a small sigh of displeasure at the feeling of Wells' blood on her hands. "I haven't run out of nicknames for you yet." Wells let a breathy chuckle escape his lips before he let his eyes close. Gabriella's eyes widened at the sight and she elbowed him in the stomach in hopes the pain from his old wound would get him to stay awake. "Don't fall asleep, Wells. Stay awake."

"I need to keep one of you alive to talk to The Commander." The grounder spoke up again, sporting a bored look on his face. "Now, get up."

"No." Gabriella said stubbornly, not even flinching when the grounder lifted the sword in his hand in the air threateningly. "You can kill me if you want--" She pressed harder against the bleeding wound, earning a grunt of pain that made her realize the boy on the floor was now conscious again, "--but then you won't have anyone to bring to your precious Commander. Wells and I come as a matching set. If you let him die then I will gladly slit my-"

Her words were cut off when a loud "Hey!" was heard behind them. Gabriella's head snapped to the source of the sound to see Bellamy with a spear in his hand. She squinted her eyes at his unmoving figure. Why the hell wasn't he throwing it?

The oldest Blake looked through the trees expectantly -- almost as if he was waiting for something to happen.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gabriella yelled, "Get out of here!"

The grounder did not waste a second before marching up to Bellamy with his sword raised high. Bellamy clenched his jaw and tried to hit him with a spear, only to have it fly right above the grounder's head and next to Gabriella. If this was not a life or death situation, the girl would have his ass for almost killing her, but she was too busy trying to keep Wells alive and worrying whether her co-leader was going to get himself killed. The grounder used the back of his sword to knock Bellamy to the ground, straight on his back.

Bellamy coughed out blood and Gabriella could only stare in horror as the grounder started beating him up. If her legs and wrists were not tied, she would not waste a second to help him but she was helpless.

There was nothing Gabriella Kane hated more than being helpless.

She felt helpless when her mother got floated, when Sam died, when Murphy got hung, when Monty and Clarke went missing when Murphy locked Jasper and Bellamy inside of the dropship and tried to kill them...

And she absolutely hated it.

"Stop it!" She pleaded desperately, her voice shaking slightly. "You'll kill him!"

After a few minutes of the nameless grounder beating Bellamy into a bloody pulp and Gabriella begging for him to stop, he finally did and tied Bellamy up to stand next to them. In the meantime, Gabriella was able to tear a part of her shirt off and wrap it around Wells' shoulder.

Wells grunted and opened his eyes, when the fabric was secure around his shoulder. "I didn't know you cared that much."

"I don't." Gabriella deadpanned. "But Clarke would kill me if she found out I left you to bleed to death. But you and I? We still hate each other."

"Noted." Wells nodded weakly, letting Gabriella help him stand up and flinching as she did.

When Wells was on his feet, Gabriella gave Bellamy a death glare, which he responded to with an almost sheepish shrug.

"Why are you here?" She whispered, wiping the blood off her hands on her shirt. "You're supposed to be in the dropship."

"I didn't make it in time" Bellamy whispered back, defending himself quickly, "so I went looking for you."

Gabriella took a deep breath before turning to the grounder. "Can you untie my feet? I can't walk like this."

The grounder hesitantly cut the rope off her feet, which allowed her to finally properly stretch her legs.

"Why were my legs bound and his weren't?" The blonde could not help but ask, not expecting the grounder to give her any type of answer but he did anyway.

"You kick in your sleep."

With those final words, the grounder turned around and left the three delinquents tied up, with Gabriella not taking her annoyed glare off of Bellamy.

Another surprise to all of them except Bellamy, was the sound of teenagers' battle screams. They turned around to see Finn, Sterling, and Monroe running to them with their weapons in hand.

The trio was not able to get far when a bullet went straight through the grounder's skull. All six delinquents gaped at the dead body in shock and surprise.

Their surprise increased when Marcus Kane stepped out from behind the trees with a couple of guards behind him, all of them armed with a gun. Gabriella felt as the world froze as she watched her father put the gun down and connect his eyes with hers. Her father was alive, he did not die when the exodus ship crashed.

"We're here now. Everything's gonna be okay." Marcus assured them, his eyes flickering from his beaten up daughter to the remaining of the hundred behind her.

The guards untied their hands and Gabriella assessed Bellamy in not falling on his ass again, while Finn led Wells over to Abby Griffin so she could check his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Ella fixed me up. We need to get back to the dropship." Wells said, shaking off Abby's concern, his mind solemnly on coming back to Clarke.

"Hey. Where's Clarke? Is she all right?" Abby asked, mainly looking between Wells and Gabriella even though her question was directed towards Bellamy and Finn too.

"She was when we left." Finn answered, drawing Abby's attention on him. "We'll take you to her."

Marcus was quick to stop them from making their way back to the delinquent camp. "Wait. Slow down." He looked over their shoulders to someone in the crowd. "Sinclair. We're splitting up. One guard detail comes with me to the dropship. Everyone else here goes with you to Alpha Station. You have the coordinates. We'll follow later, as soon as we can."

"Yes, si--"

Sinclair's words were cut off when Gabriella tackled him into a long-awaited hug, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. The head of engineering stumbled backward a bit but hugged back as soon as he realized who it was. Gabriella knew he was not in the exodus ship because he was still needed on The Ark but knowing he was down on Earth and safe, made her feel at ease.

She was relieved she did not lose anyone else important to her.

Gabriella pulled away with a small smile. "I'm happy you're okay."

Sinclair ruffled her already messy hair and smiled back. He noticed she had some blood in it, there and all over her but other than that, she seemed perfectly fine. "You too kiddo. I knew you would not go down easy."

With one last smile, Gabriella turned around to connect her gaze with her father, who was watching the interaction with slight envy, before she made her way back to her friends.

"Okay, you six with me." Marcus commanded a couple of guards before he turned to the remaining delinquents. "You four, lead the way."

As Gabriella got closer to camp, with the three boys, her father, Abby and six guards trailing close behind her, she saw dead bodies lying all over the ground. Some were grounders and some were their people -- her people. Teenagers who followed her and Bellamy into battle without a second thought, teenagers who were willing to fight and die for their ground -- for their home.

"It's too quiet." Bellamy commented, eying the dead bodies with an unreadable look on his face, most likely having the same dreadful thoughts as Gabriella.

The female Kane connected her wary haze with Bellamy's and they both went to stand up from their kneeling position, only for Marcus to take a hold of their forearms.

"We'll take it from here." He said in a dismissive tone Gabriella was so used to hearing whenever he was speaking to her. She tore her unamused gaze away from her father and looked back at Bellamy to see him already looking at her with a knowing look.

The two leaders could faintly hear Marcus commanding two guards to stay with them while he and the four other guards check out the dropship, but they were too busy trying to make a plan only by holding eye contact.

But they both knew one thing, they needed to find out what happened to their people.

Marcus led Abby and four guards inside and left the four delinquents with the two remaining guards. Gabriella pursed her lips in annoyance, the fact that her father was still treating her like a child and trying to act like he's suddenly the one in charge, after everything he did, passing her off more than anything in the last few weeks.

"We need a stretcher!" A voice was heard from inside of camp and all four of them perked up in worry, trying to get through the guards and inside.

Bellamy tilted his head at Gabriella and nodded behind her where she knew a foxhole was located. The blonde leaned her head between Wells and Finn so she was out of earshot to the guards and whispered, "Follow our lead."

And a second later, the two remaining leaders of the hundred made a beeline towards a foxhole, Wells and Finn hot on their trail. They could hear the guards yelling after them but they ignored them and ran straight through the foxhole and into their camp.

Gabriella took a deep breath at the sight in front of her. Everything they built, everything they worked so hard for was ruined, burned down, and with dead bodies burnt to ashes across the ground. But most importantly, it was empty.

"Where is everybody?" Wells asked, echoing everyone's thoughts out loud.

"It was awful. There were hundreds of them and if it wasn't for Raven-- I don't know what happened."

Gabriella's jaw and fists clenched at the familiar voice and she turned around to see none other than John Murphy being carried out of the dropship by a guard.

Once the limping boy caught sight of the four delinquents (but mainly the leaders) his mouth dropped open in surprise and he stuttered out "Ellie, Bellamy. You're . . . you're alive."

Gabriella was about to pounce on him, throw a few punches, until Bellamy beat her to it. She wasn't sure of the exact reason she wanted to be the one to do it. Maybe it was for betraying her trust like that, for holding Jasper at gunpoint, hanging Bellamy, or shooting Raven but he gave her so many reasons to hate him in the last forty-eight hours she couldn't not want to beat the shit out of him.

"You murdering son of a bitch!" Bellamy growled as he tackled Murphy to the ground. He threw the first punch, then another, and another...

If it was any other day, Gabriella would have stopped him and yelled at him for doing so but instead of her, it was Finn who screamed at him to stop. Gabriella could feel her father's curious gaze on the side of her face, probably wondering why she was not doing anything about the situation, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of turning around. he wanted to know what the hell happened between her and her so-called best friend since they had been sent to the ground.

The engineer was too busy watching the fight to notice Marcus motioning to a guard to pull Bellamy off of Murphy but she took a cautious step forward once she saw the guard step closer with a shock baton in his hand. She did not even get a chance to warn Bellamy before the guard shocked him and he fell off of Murphy and onto the ground with a painful groan.

Marcus brushed passed his daughter and looked down at Bellamy with something close to disgust, speaking in a cold tone. "Place him under arrest."

"No." Gabriella exclaimed, moving away from Wells and Finn to stand in front of Bellamy almost protectively. "You are not in charge here anymore, Kane. We have been surviving on our own these last few weeks and Bellamy has no reason to get arrested." Her eyes flickered over to a blood-covered Murphy lying on the floor as she added, "If you're planning to arrest any of us it should be John."

"Exactly." Finn agreed, "Murphy murdered two of our people. He shot two others and tried to hang Bellamy."

One of the guards took hold of Gabriella's forearms and moved her away from Bellamy so the other two guards could get him up and tie his wrists together.

"I don't care. You are not animals. There are rules. Laws." Marcus spoke, turning around to look at his glaring daughter. "You are not in control here anymore."

"Let me go." Gabriella grunted in frustration, trying to get out of the guard's grip. "Tell him to let me go."

"I can't do that, Gabriella." Marcus told her, but there was nothing genuine in his voice. "You'll stay locked up until we get to our camp."

"Go float yourself." The eighteen-year-old spat harshly, using the back of her heel to kick the guard's shin and making him let her go. She turned around quickly and raised her knee to kick him between his legs and he quickly put his hands over the place, grunting in pain as he did.

Once she was satisfied with her work, Gabriella turned around and flashed her father a sarcastic grin. "Looks like you have to lock me up permanently this time, Dad."

Marcus clenched his jaw and motioned for one of the guards who was holding Bellamy to tie her up as well. When her hands were bound, she was placed next to Bellamy with two guards standing behind them warily.

"That was idiotically Gabriella of you." Bellamy levels her with an unimpressed look, which she shrugged at.

"You're the one to talk after what you did an hour ago."

Bellamy scoffed in slight offense. "Excuse me for saving your ass. Seems like I've been doing a lot of that since we landed."

"I thought it was the other way around." Gabriella snapped with an annoyed glare.

Suddenly, all attention turned to Raven being carried out of the dropship with Abby behind her. Gabriella's eyes flashed in worry, suddenly remembering what happened to her friend before the battle even started.

"Raven." Finn gasped, stepping closer to his ex-girlfriend's unconscious body.

"She's lost a lot of blood. It's a miracle that she's still alive." Abby explained before a permanent frown full of disappointment settled on her face- "There's no one else in there."

"What?" Gabriella muttered to herself, wide eyes connecting with Bellamy's equally confused ones.

"What the hell happened here?"

Gabriella was seated on the ground beside Bellamy with a stressed and pissed-off look on her face. The guards were scouting the area around the dropship, trying to see if anyone else was there but finding no one yet.

"We're leaving." Finn announced as he and Wells marched over to their two remaining leaders.

"What?" Bellamy asked, confusion clear on his face- "This is where they'll come back."

"I don't think they're coming back. The grounders took them and you know that." Finn said, shaking his head solemnly.

Seeing both Gabriella and Bellamy were skeptical, Wells quickly added, "Look, according to Finn, there's supposed to be at least fifty of our people missing from the dropship, which means they didn't leave like that. Clarke would not allow so many of them to go through the woods after the war we just went through."

Finn nodded and scrunched down in front of Gabriella and Bellamy. "We go with Kane to Alpha Station, we get reinforcement and weapons, and then we find our friends."

"One question." Bellamy spoke, still a bit skeptical. "How many more of us will be dead by then?"

Finn's eyes briefly flickered to an unconscious Raven before he turned back around to look at Bellamy. "Abby says Raven needs surgery or she's gonna die."

Tense silence settled among them and Gabriella gaped at his words.

"Shit." Was the only thing that she was able to make out, but even that came out as a whisper.

Wells gave her a sympathetic look. "It's time to go."

And just like that, they were leaving their home behind, again.

#the 100 #bellamy blake #john murphy #clarke griffin #bellamy blake imagine #raven reyes #the 100 rewrite #octavia blake #bellamy blake x oc #john murphy x oc #bellamy blake x reader #john murphy x reader #wells jaha

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who-needs-reality-anyways · 7 months

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Love Beyond the Lies

Complete | 43.7K | Modern AU

Three years ago, Jake Griffin was killed right in front of Clarke, but the killer let her live. She was just about to start college to eventually run Arkadia Engineering, and would have done so beside her father and Thelonious Jaha. After he died, she vowed to keep going with their plan, despite a brief moment of uncertainty. Now, she is a senior and will inherit the business after graduation. Clarke's best friends, Wells, Raven, and Murphy make it their goal to get Clarke to have more fun this year before spending the rest of her life drowned in work. Through this plan, Clarke meets Bellamy Blake. He is mysterious, sexy, and vaguely familiar. They hit it off, and Clarke finally starts to live for more than school and the future. She goes out with her friends, starts officially dating Bellamy, and simply has fun. It's something she hasn't experienced since her dad died. Then, before graduation, she discovers unsettling information regarding her father's murder. It wasn't just a random act of violence, and the killer is much closer to Clarke than she realized.

All the artwork from the image is made by the wonderful @underbellamy-deactivated2023100 (who looks like deleted her account, but I am not taking credit for her work.)

Guys, it’s done. I’ve finally finished this piece, and I can honestly say I am pretty proud of how it turned out. I would love feedback, of course, but I’m just glad it’s done. I really hope you all enjoyed it.

I officially have no more WIPs anymore!

#bellamy blake #bellarke #clarke griffin #the 100 #bellarke fic #long time coming

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kinetic-elaboration · 1 year

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April 29: Bellarke, A Good Thunderstorm

Bellarke + Greek Gods + Thunderstorms

In the same universe as my fic Beloved, Feared, Misunderstood, and inspired by this post.

~1300 words

Warning for semi-explicit sex

Two oaken doors, ornately carved with visions of past victories and glories, bar the way to the bedroom of the Blake penthouse suite. They seem a relic of the past, now, as the rest of the apartment has come to be decorated in silver and steel: the impenetrable gate to a sphere so private that not even all of the gods have been invited in.

The rest of the penthouse is quiet in the evening. Through the windows, the last dusky sunlight of a long summer day filters in, casts shadows across the carpet, and turns the outlines of the furniture soft and gray. All of the lights are off. None of the surfaces gleam, no footsteps sound, no movement disrupts the stillness.

On the other side of the door, Clarke stands at the window and stares out across the city as it fades into shadow, too. The windows stretch floor to ceiling, and the heavy velvet curtains that sometimes cover them have been swept aside, leaving bare and on display the entirety of their domain. Bellamy almost never keeps the curtains closed. He loves the view, and never more than now: the contrast of the skyscrapers and orderly, gray city blocks and pinpoints of electric lights, beneath the vastness of the sky, to Clarke herself. She towers above them, delicate and strong and still, like a sentry or a guardian commanding all that she can see.

He knows she's aware of his eyes on her. He sees it in the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, and in her stillness and silence.

He's splayed across his bed, a perfect wreck of one-thousand-thread-count sheets and tangled blankets and pillows falling in excess onto the floor. On the bedside table, one of the empty wineglasses has tipped onto its side, dripping bits of blood-red wine onto the carpet. Like the door, the bed is wooden, stately, and large, and the headboard is carved with a vision of storm clouds and lightning. He replaced it briefly with a steel framed thing but it just wasn't the same. He needs something sturdy, reliable, and old.

From the silver tray on the mattress next to him, he picks up a bunch of grapes and holds them out to himself, pulling one grape at a time into his mouth with his tongue. The movement is idle. His eyes never leave Clarke's body.

Watching her standing naked in front of the window, with her hair down and flowing in blonde waves over her shoulders, and every curve of her and the pattern of shine and shadow on her skin from the half-dimmed lights and the candles scattered about the room—all on display, he feels something of the awe that mortals feel before the gods. She is the only one who has ever earned his worship. From the city streets below, she must appear as a frightfully beautiful image, only the glowing outline of her visible, like the statues that have been carved of her but more perfect than any mere marble could be. They can see the distant hint of her, the possibility of her. He could have all of her. He could roll across the bed right now and grab her for his own.

Across the late-evening sky, dark storm clouds are gathering, thick and heavy and gray. He sees the exact moment when Clarke first notices them, coming together at the horizon over the sea. She glances over her shoulder at him. A tiny, sly smile at the corner of her lips.

The skies darken. The last of sunset is blurred out and overcome. A jagged flash of lightning, bright and silent, rends through the clouds.

Clarke appears glorious, turning toward him, outlined by the brilliant light of it.

She bounds across the room, bare feet silent on the plush purple carpet, jumps onto the bed and sends the silver plate clattering dully to the floor. A few grapes roll across the sheets. He tries to sit up to grab onto her, to hold her, but she climbs on top of him first, and pins his wrists above his head, and he growls as if in warning but does not fight her off.

A loud boom of thunder sounds, shaking the sky, and then smaller sounds of it as if the heavens were unfolding. Then she leans down to kiss him, and as her back arches and her lips press against his, the storm clouds open all at once and a ferocious downpour unleashes itself upon the city.

The lights go out, but the candles stay on. The view outside the window is nothing but sheets of water slashing across pitch-blackness, sliding droplets against the glass.

He presses his hips up against hers, and she lets go of his hands and slides her palms down along his palms, his arms. Nails against the delicate skin over his pulse points. He reaches up to tangle his fingers in her hair, pushing it free of her face.

Oh, it's been so long since he's seen her stand at the fore of armies, battle-scarred, uncompromising, brave. He'd upset worlds to see her wield her weaponry again. Yet only a week ago, days ago, he let her take him to the crafts festival and they walked hand in hand and let the mortals see them, and he watched her demonstrate, with nimble fingers, the proper art of weaving—and she was beautiful then, too. Controlled, precise, confident in her skill.

He takes her fingers into his mouth and sucks on them, because he would consume her, gorge on her.

Lightning and thunder follow close upon each other now, and the drumming of the rain becomes a scattering of white noise, a blur of sound all around them. Flashes of white light glinting on her skin. The violent rumbling rending of the clouds. The revolt of the sky.

They grab onto each other roughly, treat each other roughly, the strength of the gods matched against the resiliency of the gods—they can throw each other around and it means nothing. The mattress bounces beneath her weight as he tosses her back against the pillows. She pulls him on top of her, wrenches his neck as she demands another biting, wet, open-mouthed kiss. Opens her legs wide to him so that he can settle between them, where he needs to be, where he fits, and the rain comes down harder, amid howls of wind, and droplets scattered and thrown against the wall of glass, as she pulls at his hair, and he pulls at her lip with his teeth.

He sinks into her and she gasps into his mouth, and above them a series of lightning flashes illuminate the whole sky, patterns of dazzling, vivid white glowing through and among the clouds.

Some distant part of him wonders if they can be seen, if only for a few seconds, revealed in that momentary blaze of light: two bodies tangled and fitted together, desperate and needing and aching for each other.

Each drunk on the power of the other.

Clarke's nails claw down his back. He's riding the rhythm of her. The storm will swell the ocean and the ocean will overwhelm the docks and climb up over the shore and threaten the city. The rain will soak the earth and turn it all to mud, will gurgle in the storm drains, will wash out the streets. The thunder is so loud he can feel it in his chest. It's coming from his chest. Clarke's legs are wrapped around him, his arms around her, his face hidden in the hollow between her shoulder and her neck.

He's surrounded by her, utterly, subsumed in her completely, and he's never known a form that feels as hard and knows such sensation as this, or a body that fits with his as perfectly as hers, or a voice he'd rather hear whispering his name with desperation in his ear.

He is overtaken. He’s in love.

Around and above, over all of Arcadia, the brilliant and terrifying storm rages on.

#the 100 #bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #mine #my writing #the year 2023 #2023: free write #beloved feared misunderstood #i've been wanting to write this for like 2 years lol

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ao3feed-the100 · 1 year

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Submission Of Transcendence

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/75oCUBI

by Corinne26

Octavia Blake wants to set up her longtime friend Clarke Griffin with her older brother Bellamy Blake with the help of Raven Reyes, John Murphy & Emori. The question is will her brother be up for the challenge? As there is more than meets the eyes with Clarke Griffin.

Words: 867, Chapters: 1/100, Language: English

Fandoms: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Raven Reyes (The 100), Madi (The 100), Indra (The 100), Gaia (The 100), More characters - Character

Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake/Levitt, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), past Russell Lightbourne/Simone Lightbourne/Clarke Griffin, Hope Diyoza & Jordan Jasper Green, Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller, More Relationships - Relationship

Additional Tags: Kink Discovery, DDLG, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Large Cock, Cock Rings, cock/body worship, nipple licking/nipple clamps/nipple play/nipple torture, come swallowing/come inflation, unrealistic/inaccuracies, impact play/ice play, Worried/Protective/Caregiver/Dom Bellamy Blake, Baby girl/sub Clarke Griffin, Dom Octavia Blake, Dom Raven Reyes, Switch John Murphy, character death mention, Bondage and Discipline, predicament/chair/breast bondage, deepthroating/face-fucking, Hair-pulling, rough sex/rough oral sex/manhandling, Oral Sex, dry humping/grinding, Doggy Style, Aftercare, Consensual Sex, mirror/shower/bathtub/floor/bed sex, anal sex/anal plug/anal fingering/anal play/anal beads/anal gaping/anal fisting, Kink Negotiation, food kink/food sex, leashes/collars, spanking/flogging/paddling/strapping/belts/figging, Consent, Trust Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, OCC - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Sharing a Room/Bed, Miscarriage, Bathing/Washing, Simultaneous Orgasm, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Choking/Breathplay, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, porn with plot/feelings, Spit Kink, body image issues/scars, daddy/praise kink, Multiple Sex Positions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex Toys, vaginal sex/fingering, Protective John Murphy

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/75oCUBI

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the 100 #the 100 fic

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bellarkeselection · 1 year

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Returning to my faze of wanting to write for Bellamy Blake so send any to my ask box ❤️

#bellamy blake x reader one shots #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x kane reader #bellamy blake imagine #the 100 bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x reader fanfiction #bellamy blake fluff #bellamy blake #bellamy blake images #the 100 fic #the 100 masterlist #the 100 x reader #the 100

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april-showers86 · 11 months

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Red Riding Hood/Werewolf hunter Clarke AU

#bellarke au #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #clarke x bellamy #red riding hood #werewolf hunter #secret werewolf bellamy #the 100 #fan art #digital fanart #image manip #aprilshowers86

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frogs-are-bitchs · 3 years

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me, when i read a fanfic about my slow burn otp but they're going too fast:

#memes #funny images #funny memes #funny pictures #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #caroline forbes #klaroline #klaus mikaelson #the 100 #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #imagine your otp #fandom struggles #enemies to lovers

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clayandstuff · 3 years

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Space kiss (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

#The 100 #Becho #Echo Kom Azgeda #Bellamy Blake #Echo Kom Spacekru #Bellamy's hand touching Echo's neck 🥵#Echo's hand softly touching his arm 🥵#the entire world melting away as they kiss #🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#illuminated by the stars as they kiss for the first time WHAT THE F*CK #this kiss was absolutely everything #Lindsey Morgan did THAT #my art #hello new header image 🥰

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izloveshorses · 4 years

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i’ve painted this image a million times now And I’ll Do It Again .gif

#bellamy blake #the 100 #fan art #bob morley #bellamyblakepositivity #my art #bellarke #iz draws #this is my favorite image of him and always will be #good job everyone in charge of this shot #there's still something Off about this but if i don't post it now i never will so

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bellamyblake · 4 years

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Bellarke with their tiny son Gus headcanons:

In an alternate universe Clarke is watching Bellamy and their six month old son fall asleep on the big, covered with furs bed while she finishes up some work on the table near the fireplace.

She scribbles things down while also listening to Bellamy talk to Gus who’s gushing in his baby glory, yawning with his tiny mouth, eyes drooping.

“Ready for bed, little man? Come here!” Bellamy scoops him up after changing him for bed and carefully lays them down.

Gus always somehow wrapped himself around his dad’s big arm like a monkey on a branch, resting his head over his shoulder and curling up to his side.

“Okay, that’s good, right?” Bellamy asks before removing a few curls from his forehead and leaning down to kiss their son’s nose. “What story shall we have today, hm? Maybe something from Jason and the Argonauts?” and he’d start talking after pushing the blanket up their bodies.

Gus falls a few minutes later but Bellamy never stops talking until he’s done even when his son is drooling on his arm and his own eyes are drooping.

He knew Clarke was listening too. His voice soothed her soul after a long tedious day in medbay or council meetings.

She usually looks up when he’s about done and finds him barely awake himself. The sight of him and their baby boy wrapped so tightly around him warms her heart.

“Your big and small bumps are waiting for you under the blankets.” he mumbles. It was her joke, something she never failed to mention when she finally got in bed herself, wrapping herself tightly around him with Gus in the middle.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Don’t let it become hours” he warns, cracking one threatening eye open, making her smile.

“I won’t.”

“I mean it.” he huffs before adjusting the blanket over Gus one last time and resting his head back on the blanket.

She knows he’ll probably wake if she doesn’t come back to bed in half an hour so she makes sure to finish her work as fast as she can and soon enough she looks up and finds Bellamy snoring just barely and Gus still sleeping with his tiny arms wrapped around his dad’s, sighing in content every once in a while like every baby does.

She tilts her head and her eyes fill with tears-she had that. She had them. She was lucky enough to get here to this moment with the most beautiful boys in her life.

Slowly, she stands up and still teary eyed she quickly changes into Bellamy’s blue shirt and snuggles under the blanket, kissing Gus’ freckled forehead up before Bellamy instinctively throws his other arm over at her and brings them all together.

She closes her eyes thinking she’s the happiest girl in the world.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #idk what this is im sorry #just came to me today #i know no one cares about this #i just had bellamy and his son wrapped around his arms image in my head all day #like them just laying together in bed and gus drooling on his papa's arm while clarke watches them #my writing #headcanons

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 months

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January 24: Octavia, Bravery/Fear

Octavia-centric, ~830 words, written in about 30 minutes; cw for references to drug use

For the prompt "bravery and its antonyms (cowardice, timidity, fear, hesitation)" from my July Break Bingo 2023 card (though I sort of forgot about the prompt pretty fast lol)

In the same 'verse as Make a lot of Money and Feel Dead Inside, my Time Loop fic. It's not.. spoiler-y per se, but it might make more sense later.

It is not true that Octavia Blake ceased to feel fear at the age of fifteen.

She wanted that story in the last book. The woman, the myth, the legend. Bellamy told her that superheroes weren't relatable, and that all of her adventures would read as boring and slight, if she turned herself into some sort of perfect, fearless goddess. Oh, it would all be too easy then. No stakes, no drama, no reason to care. No one wants to read a book like that, he said.

And even then, maybe that phrasing was just to be polite. Maybe he didn't mean you can't look superhuman but more like you can't look inhuman. And it burned her up that he wasn't wrong. That image they want for the TV screen, girl next door but she climbs mountains for a living, that's not her and never has been. But it's the sort of thing that sells. The relatable thing.

How she'd like to be perceived is like something out of a tall tale, or the over-the-top adventures Bellamy used to tell her as bedtime stories. The characters weren't anything in those; the story was their accomplishments, stacked up against all the dangers they faced.

She can't be a superhero and she can't be too cocky and she can't lie about conquering the very concept of fright when she was just a kid because that self-myth, it sounds so good in her head, but if she spoke it out loud it would prove all too much. She should have been able to vanquish it then: the feeling of her heart pounding in her throat, the nauseous tightening in her stomach, the tickling unease. The dread. Because she'd felt it at its worst and then she'd crushed it in her hands. She'd—

She'd seen everything that she needed to see.

But instead she found the nightmares followed her for years. Maybe she'd come up too close to the monster's face and it had changed her, or maybe she was waiting for the aftermath, the vengeance. Maybe she was taking her cues from her big brother, who sulked around the house all quiet for a while and said that it was mourning. She'd watch his eyes twitch and that tic in his jaw that was always his tell. And it made something sick start to vibrate along her skin. Maybe, like Clarke said, it just takes a while for that stuff to wash over you, her way of saying, there's trauma, and you have to learn the patience to feel it out and through.

What did make it to the book is that she has no patience and never did. To overcome the fear she had to kill it herself. She pushed right up against everything that had ever scared her; she dared, not herself to endure, but the terrifying things to find her, to get her. Horror movie marathons on Friday nights. Sleepovers with Clarke when they took the old Ouija board out and called for spirits. All that other side of the veil shit, she'd always hated it, because it seemed like if it was true, it would be the worst fate of all. She practiced sneaking out of the house even with nowhere to go. She explored the edges of the swamp.

In college, she started hanging out with the two guys down the hall, and on the weekends, after dark, they'd leave campus and go exploring. They tore apart their mid-size university town as if the only things they really had to learn were all its secrets. Jasper was excellent at picking locks. When the security systems were electronic, Monty would fix them. For a while, her favorite sensations were rusting metal fencing cutting into her skin, and the satisfaction of finding purchase in the diamond cutouts with her feet. Sometimes they just sat outside in parking lots they shouldn't be in and smoked Monty's weed. Bellamy would have killed her if she'd gotten high in high school, which is sort of ironic when you really think about it, and at first it scared her, too. She wondered what it would be like, to be not quite herself.

"You'll feel great," Jasper told her, soft and warm, his breath an outtake of cold, misting air and smoke. When he handed her the joint and their fingers touched, it seemed more intimate than the time she'd gotten caught trying to climb one of the fences, and he’d had to shove her upwards with his hands on her ass.

She wanted to cut open her palm, let it bleed like an oath. She wanted to steal just to prove she could. She wanted to jump off a building just to show them all she'd land on her feet.

How had she defeated the worst monster there was, and fear still lingered, tightening up in her throat?

"You okay?" Monty asked her, then, and she swallowed down everything she still didn't know and said yes.

#the year 2024 #2024: free write #mine #my writing #the 100 #octavia blake #make a lot of money #worrying that my writing lacks a sort of semi-ironic detachment and THAT friends is a sign i need to sleep

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