#tristan and miles go on a trip

[minamotoz]

op you've absolutely converted me into a chullingsworth shipper. They're leagues ahead of everyone else. imo, speaking as someone who went thru something very similar to what miles did with his dad, Winston was the ONLY friend to handle things relatively well. supported him, let him vent abt his dad, while still not pushing him to do anything to escalate the situation. winston loml. They're peak idiot x responsible dynamic too. They went to ROME TOGETHER?? gay. I love my bisexual kings They're in Love

AUGHR ANON YOU'VE MADE MY DAY !!!!! chullingsworth is so underappreciated :( ur so right winston really was the only one to treat miles properly in the midst of his whole relationship w his dad, ESPECIALLY in NC1 . very frustrating how the show never really acknowledged it, it felt like the way he treated miles was credited towards tristan which was very odd. but yes theyre just so !!!!!! augshs dont you love it when you go on a platonic trip across europe w ur platonic bestie

[ashintheairlikesnow]

nat seeing short hair forehead scar only-just-talking-again chris for the first time and wrapping him in a big comforting motherly hug🥺🥺🥺

CW: Post-meltdown, nonverbal, referenced self-injury as a result of meltdown, ptsd/trauma, vaguely referenced parental death

Takes place post-I’m Here

---

He doesn’t speak when she comes in, or look at her. He’s curled up on the bed in his room at Jake’s house, back to the wall. There’s a pillow behind him, and Nat knows Jake placed it there just behind the back of his head, and why. 

Just in case he needs to, the option is there, a way to do it without hurting until he can be redirected to stop.

His pretty blue hair is gone - only the copper roots remain, nearly shaved, a shimmer of color with blue at some of the ends, like a penny slowly going green with time and neglect. 

“Hey, sweetie,” Nat says gently, and he blinks, but he keeps staring towards the window. Jake’s pulled open the curtains, opened it up, let the air from outside, smelling like flowers, drift in. She can hear a plane flying low overhead, making its descent towards the airport a few miles away. 

He has a feather in his mouth, just holding it there, the silicone plastic pressing against his lips, but he’s not chewing on it. His hands hold another one, a different color, rubbing his thumb up and down, up and down. 

He looks his age, with such short hair, and it’s so startling that Nat nearly trips on the rug before she make it to the chair at his desk, in front of his laptop, to sit slowly down to face him. He looks like he’s twenty-four, going on twenty-five, in a way he almost never does. The angles of his face are drawn sharply, this way. There’s a darkness in his green eyes that she has only rarely seen.

“Jake says you had a breakthrough,” Nat says, keeping her voice low. She doesn’t expect a response, and she doesn’t get one. He’s listening - his thumb pauses on the feather’s vanes before it starts to rub again. Eyes flicker, not quite to hers, then go back to the window. “That you-... know yourself more, now.”

He might nod, a little. His teeth press down around the feather in his mouth. There’s a bandage over one side of his forehead, and Nat winces at the thought of how that must have hurt, another on his other cheek, some more on his bare arms he clearly did to himself. 

It’s been so long since she’s seen Chris without his compression shirt (his armor, she’s always thought privately) that it’s unsettling, now, to see so much skin. Just a t-shirt and pajama shorts, like when he’d first come to stay with them. Only he’s older, now, a grown man - a grown man struggling to reconcile a boy’s life that was stolen from him.

“Is it okay that I’m here, Chris?”

Now, he looks at her, blinking in surprise, and then he nods, once. He moves, carefully and slowly, shifting along the bed. She realizes only after he moves the pillow behind his head, too, that he’s making room for her to sit beside him. 

She moves in a heartbeat. His mattress gives under her weight, a slight creak of old box springs as she sits beside him. He slowly leans over until his shoulder touches her arm, until his head rests on her shoulder. She turns to kiss the top of his head and mourns how the newly-short hair brushes like the tips of feathers, rather than the waterfall of blue he loved so much, he’d been so proud of.

Nat digs her phone out of her pocket, opens up the Notes app, and holds it out to him. “Can you talk this way, for now?”

He hesitates, then shakes his head. “L-Later,” He manages, with obvious difficulty. His voice is little more than a rasping whisper.

Nat sets the phone down beside her. “That’s all right, Chris. If you change your mind, we’ll try again, but no pressure. I want to be here with you for a while, and we can just sit together, too. Jake says you got yourself back, today. He told me your name was Tristan Higgs.”

Chris doesn’t nod, but he hitches in a breath, and Nat can hear the answer in it. 

“I heard something else, too,” Nat murmurs, and when his arms move to slide around her waist, she turns to make it easier for him, slips a hand up to the back of his head. “I heard that you were very, very loved by your friends, and your parents. I’m so sorry about them, Chris. But I was so glad to learn how much everyone loved you. So I guess that’s one thing that Chris and Tristan have in common, hm? You’re so loved, no matter what name you have. We love you so, so much.”

He turns his head into the side of her neck, and she lets his tears dampen the tendrils of hair that have come loose from her braid. They listen to the birds singing outside, smell the flowers in the air, and sit together.

He’ll talk when he’s ready, when he can.

Right now, he’ll have someone to see him through the silence.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump ,  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary @downriver914 @vickytokio

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 14: So If You Put a Fraction Into a Duel Disk, the Card Explodes

We left on quite the cliffhanger last episode, so I’ll fill you in:

I did not get the haircut.

Like I seriously considered getting a Zigfried for a cool 3 or 4 minutes there, but then I decided to wait a couple of days and I basically forgot.

But, back to the arc finale, Seto has decided to walk, not run, to the Kaiba lab in order to fix the virus rapidly eating his entire company.

I just want to point out that Zigfried went through a LOT of work to get Seto Kiaba to go “uggggh” turn around, and pretend to calmly walk away. I’m used to Seto losing his nut kind of a lot and blowing things up but this season he’s like “be chill be chill be chill” so that the entire world doesn’t think he’s a spaz on TV.

And little aside about Seto’s design choices here, I fell down a hole of interior design videos, and can I just say: apparently these wood frame things on the wall are back in style? Good on you, 2002(3?) Seto Kaiba. Don’t think that current designers are painting them purple but...we’re halfway there to Yugioh fashion.

Meanwhile, Pharaoh decides to remind everyone that these stakes are hella low. The worst that happens is that Zigfried deletes the plane that Yugi needs to fly home...which would be an impressive virus.

Like it’s hard to tell if Yami even has a solid concept of “capitalism” and whether or not he cares about or understands the makeup of Seto’s company (which up till now has operated like a small country and not a business...which is a little more Pharaoh’s understanding. Either way...hard to tell if Yami would shed two tears for the loss of Kaiba corp.)

And, despite what I say in the caps, I feel like Leon and Zigfried are the first villains we’ve ever had that Yugi and Pharaoh didn’t unintentionally disclose that they are 2 people to. Zigfried and Leon are just...completely oblivious to how effed up Yugi’s bean is. They think that’s just a normal kid and lol no dudes...y’all got distracted by Seto Kabia but you have a literal Egyptian God just hovering around in the background and dating 3 people by accident.

Like when the show shelves the main storyline, it is very funny how it’s all “And we’re gonna put the Pharaoh crisis on hold--just put a pin in it. No one will notice this child is two nervous wrecks stitched together” and then Yugi and Yami just kinda hold it in and watch all patiently until it’s their turn to get off the bench.

(read more under the cut)

In the giant computer tower, Seto Kaiba shouts out a string of orders and numbers, admired the many sonar detector looking windows open on every monitor, and then sat down at his desk to like...check the firewall, I guess?

The virus is past the firewall. It’s um...it’s inside the firewall, pretty sure that was the point, but youknow, it’s a kid’s show so they’re just throwing out computer stuff that has no meaning to the writers of this show.

Mokuba thinks fondly of how Seto Kaiba has never screwed him over (which I mean...maybe not on purpose, ((except for that one time he did screw him over on purpose to get Gozaburo Kaiba to accidentally give Seto Kaiba the company, but you could say that was a grander scheme that he knew Mokuba would see through, which...)) but Seto certainly has screwed Mokuba over accidentally. At least once.)

And meanwhile, Yami fixes everything through card shenanigans.

So here’s the shenanigan this episode: I don’t go over cards here but this one requires a limited amount of explanation.

So every round the golden castle deletes half of Yugi’s cards. So he was like...I’ll just draw down to one card. They can’t delete half a card...so that means the card must delete one of the two cards on the field which means it must delete itself.

...which is like the closest Yugioh will probably ever get to abusing a glitch to do a speedrunning tactic like GDQ.

Anyway, like I stated in the title: there are no fractions allowed in Yugioh. If you do that to your priceless one-of-a-kind card you got from winning one of Pegasus’ murder tournies, it will irreparably bust the card.

I’m sure at least one of you will correct me with the proper way to insert a fraction into your duel disk. Cuz like...as I say multiple times so we never forget, I barely pay attention to this card game and I’m just flying by the seat of my pants.

I want to say Seto and Mokuba were in the hacker chairs for like...3 minutes maybe before they realized “oh...Yugi fixed it...” and walked the half a mile back to the duel arena.

and also, as I’m looking at Seto’s glasses here, I just realized...all of Kaiba’s team wears sunglasses all the time. Inside, outside, night, or day...

They haven’t outright said this...but what if those aren’t sunglasses?

Is Roland and that other Roland wearing fancy cyber glasses? They are, right? Because they wear them indoors?

Damn, they can’t take a piss without being on call with Kaiba Corp, can they?

Now the problem is...Yugi played all of his cards (he has two in front of him face down, but none in his deck) and after milling himself, this means he’s now basically a sitting duck for Leon to take the title of “King of Games.”

Leon insists that he defend whatever scraps are left of his card honor and not duel a person who is carrying no cards and Yugi was like “COME AT ME BRO THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I KNOW I’M ALIVE.”

He didn’t even have to do a horror on Leon, he just...played cards good? I skipped it, I’ll be honest, but overall Leon’s card honor was...saved? Maybe? I mean he also go destroyed when his competitor had not a single card in his duel disk so...

...Leon will have to work on his card honor off screen because he’s pretty well humiliated at this point.

But stumbling onto the playing field like he’s half dazed/daydrunk, Zigfried is like “You forgot I already won, bastards!”

Which is when we find out that Zigfried’s “delete all” virus failed to press “enter” and deleted basically nothing. Just like when my Mom attempts to send something in Gmail but doesn’t press “Send” and tells me that Google is down and broken.

Sorry my bro has informed me that he ALSO has had to help my Mother locate the “Send” button and I just...I know she absolutely did that but I’m in denial that this Riddle of the Sphinx has happened to her multiple times.

Honestly, the pep talk we get from Leon at the end to cheer up his bro was a whole lot of “we will pick ourselves up and we’ll do better next time. Together.” and sure you can translate that as “we’ll be honest next time” or you can translate that as “next time we will be not nearly as obvious about inserting a virus into their computer until it is done doing the job, bro.”

Just like Dartz, we didn’t really get a whole lot of retribution or closure when it comes to Zigfried. But, unlike Dartz, Zigfried didn’t do too much murder, so I guess this is fine. He tried to cheat in a card game...

...and I guess tried to delete Kaiba Corp but youknow...

...people let him have that. The police saw the ticket of “this man tried to delete Kaiba Corp” and they just...didn’t arrest him. The judge saw that ticket and didn’t put out a warrant. They just let Zigfried have this, almost like “better luck next time, ya?”

And then Roland clocked out for the day and went home, thus ending this arc.

Look at all these characters, most of which we never saw duel even one card.

We also got one shot of Mai for some reason although she was not in this arc.

AAAHHHH. Every time I’m like “the show is done screwing geography” we get another freakin geography spook!

But we went back to California in order to get a scene of these guys in an airport to get a flight to Japan...

which means Rex and Weevil just...were they shipped home by the Kaibas? Because way to ditch getting arrested by the American Government, hot damn. They are...literally terrorists who destroyed a Caltrain in a plot to kill everyone in the world so like...really surprised Rex and Weevil are in public...but maybe all the FBI were dead at the time so they just didn’t know?

Meanwhile, Duke has to go back to Death Valley and call a tow truck for his car, RIP.

I sure hope he got PTO during this stunt and isn’t going home to a pink slip.

I’m not sure of Dukes life or anything going on with Duke. I’m sure the thing about Serenity is him joking because we have all forgotten about that girl by this point...but also...is Duke...still living in the Tenderloin? The crime rate is very, very high and the ground isn’t solid, so it will liquefy if there’s an Earthquake, but it is one of the few places in the Bay Area that doesn’t light on fire every year. He has that going for him.

I just really hope Duke moves out of the Tenderloin one of these days, he needs a better life.

Meanwhile, Rebecca does one last crime.

This is like a post-epidemic reaction to a hug, but in 2002(3?).

I don’t think I’ll miss Rebecca too much. Wanted to like her more, but she was under-utilized, like most of the characters on Yugioh. Not even just talking girl characters here--most characters on Yugioh are super under-utilized, just Tristan Wallflowers doing nothing, but also being selectively OP as hell about very specific things they never, ever need to do.

Speaking of the devil:

Yugi...just saved his entire company...

But Mokuba is just has to make sure to make it seem like they owed Mokuba and not the other way around. Just in case.

So off they go on this massive plane. It’s probably more to do with the length of the trip as to why the plane is so big but also...

This plane is overcompensating.

But before we analyze that, lets close the book on Seto Kaiba’s very short therapy arc. Overall, it was a nice distraction, but I can see why people call it a filler arc, as it really doesn’t affect...anything going on in the major plotlines, which makes me think it could have been a movie or a game or something. But overall, it’s not bad, it’s just not what you’d expect if you were a Western audience.

Like I’m preaching to the choir, but typically, Western stories are entirely plot focused, and so our arcs always give or take away from that plot. But in a Eastern story arc, it may instead be character focused, where the climax is a character evolving or coming to some sort of cathartic realization, which this arc was, in a big way. We still had some plot, because this is a Shonen, but overall it was about characters, and specifically whether or not Leon and his bro would reconcile or change--which they did.

We did get to see a little more growth on Seto in that he...didn’t go bonkers and hallucinate during a card game. It’s been a while since we’ve had him not do that. Seto was very chill this arc, which makes sense, it was a very chill slice of life arc for everyone involved.

So, next we move on to the next one, which bro has informed me...is

still not Bakura.

According to Bro, the next arc didn’t even air in the Japanese version of the show? Like he’s got a lot of spicy Yugioh headcanons so he could be wrong (He did tell me that he thought that Zigfried was Seto Kaiba’s ex boyfriend when he saw this as a kid which...that sure is a way to interpret this arc, and it probably wasn’t just my little brother who went down that thought tube there...)

(Bro Note: To be fair, I didn’t watch much of this arc as a kid.)

But he says the next arc was originally a movie. But they released it in the States as episodes to be part of S5, just to put more episodes in there. Which, if he’s correct, makes it seem like we’re getting like the Mulan 2 experience kind of shoved in between this arc and the next

But um..

according to bro it has virtually no card games.

.......

I’m so used to only capping 10 minutes an episode, what?

Anyway, until then, here’s the link to read the rest of these from the start in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

I’m kinda itching to do a Season Zero, it’s been a hot minute--so those take a little longer to do, especially since I need to go to a different site I haven’t...checked out yet...I’ll be back...eventually? I just know that at some point in Season Zero they fight it out with yo-yo’s and I want to see it.

[icebreaker01]

WHOSE ON THE TRAIN?

If you think I am not having fun writing this one, you don’t know me very well.

OK, so folks, it’s pretty much canon at this point that the whole big reveal of S3 is splitting the trains.....again.

If you need convincing, look at the promo pictures put out by Opponentsheir.  There are two trains in the promo.  If you check the pictures out individually, one is Snowpiercer and the other is the second half of the train.....each headed in opposite directions. I am calling that scene as the end of S3.

So the only big question is who goes with who?

So we have the ‘If Daveed Diggs weren’t on this train we would all just be fodder for the writers’ train. Among those proud but scared members are: ‘My ideas are the only ones that count’ Layton. ‘My girlfriend just dised me again’ Bennett.  (I know this one is more likely wishful thinking, but still.) “Hey, he may be crazy, but he’s my best friend’ Till. ‘I’m going to stay with  my current and most stable relationship’ Audrey. ‘The writers said I have to because he’s my pseudo-dad’ Miles. ‘Oh, what the heck, I love everyone except my soulmate’ Josie. ‘Tailie forever!’ Lights. ‘Like Miles, I guess I have to go with my pseudo-parent’ Winnie. ‘Because you are sure going to need a doctor’ Pelton. ‘Because the other train wouldn’t have me for a million dollars’ train’s crazy little psycho. ‘Seriously, you thought I was here to help?’ Wilford. And Smallpiercer. Who in the *^&%($* you ask is ‘Smallpiercer? (TM out to Balzamik35 on the name.) Smallpiercer is likely so far the most overlooked but obvious solution to everyone’s problems.  The little railscaler Melanie rode around in for six months. Question: This is an autonomous, self sustaining, working piece of equipment used to scan tracks ahead of a train for trouble.  Why don’t they send it down the rails to New Eden?  It can record, analyze, and report back whatever it finds without once putting the train in danger. (SP Writers)  “Because that would make sense, and we agreed to stop doing that on this show after S1.”

Now on to the ‘We got Melanie!  ’Nough said’ train. We have: ‘Did you miss me?’ Melanie. ‘Best-friend my a**!’ Javi. ‘My newest conque.....potential love interest is on this train’ Ruth. ‘Why is the cute blond looking at me like that?’ Roche. ‘Why am I even still on this show?’ Tristan. ‘Only because the promos suggest it is highly likely’ Boki. ‘I’m sticking with my baby Javi in on this train’ Sykes. “I’m leaving my crazy wife while I still have my balls’ Oz. And everyone else on the trains who still have two brain cells or an ounce of desire to live.

Now an interesting thought on why I think Wilford is on Layton’s train based on what we see on the promos.  The promos show what looks like Layton and Wilford going at it, with Wilford on the losing end (again). What if the trains split, and in that time, Wilford was on Layton’s end of the train, Melanie having sent him over there to supposedly do mischief and then quickly decides to split the trains.  He is, thereby, stuck on Layton’s rolling disaster plan with little to no say in how to stop him.  Melanie is pretty sure New Eden is a doomed trip.  Hey!  We get rid of two problems for the price of one.  Go Melanie!

My wild card in all this? Alex. Now, I know the promos sent out today suggest Alex is going to split with Melanie......again.  But how much sense does this make <in pleasing your viewing audience>. We have agonized (or whatever you chose to call it) over this separation for a year.  Poor little Alex, curled up with mom’s hoodie, reading her last words, crying a river, and tugging at more heartstrings than you can imagine. After a FRINKIN’! YEAR! we get a five minute reunion with tears and hugs and we all swear we will accept this because at least the Cavill family is back together (well, sans dad....but that’s a whole ‘nother story). So we get another one minute happy time between Melanie and Alex getting ready for the impending disaster...........PARTY!  I MEAN PARTY!. And then it all goes to heck in a hand basket. I simply would never understand Alex leaving her mother and going with Layton aside from her little speech to Melanie that ‘We came to find you even though all the data suggested it was a pointless trip, and.....yet.....HERE YOU ARE!’

I would find S4 a lot more satisfying and easier to watch if Alex was with her mother on the same train. But it doesn’t look that way.

(Icebreaker gives a very deep sigh) Yes, Mr. Wilford, I think it’s time we celebrate a win.

[wonderful-writer]

13 - Wartime

Summary: The camp prepares to make a trip to the ocean, but the grounder army puts a stop in their plans, forcing them back to camp to fight a war.

Word Count: 2.94k

Based Off: 01x13, “We Are Grounders, Part Two”

Everyone outside of the dropship prepared to leave while Clarke cauterized Raven’s wound and Finn held her hand. 

“That should stop the external bleeding.” She put the knife in a basin and Finn started talking.

“I don’t understand, how did Murphy get a gun?” He asked.

“Long story,” Bellamy said. 

“We got lucky,” Raven moaned. “If Murphy hit the fuel tank instead of me, we’d all be dead.”

“Wait, there’s rocket fuel down there?” Clarke asked the brunette. “Enough to build a bomb?”

“Enough to build 100 bombs.” Raven replied. “If we had any gunpowder left.” 

“Let’s get back to the reapers.” Bellamy lifted Lincoln’s book to show a sketch of one. “Maybe they’ll help us.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” You asked. 

“Not this enemy.” Clarke said. “We saw them. Trust me, it’s not an option.”

“There’s no time for this.” Finn chimed in. “Can she walk or not?”

“No.” Clarke responded. “We have to carry her.”

“The hell you will.” Raven tried to sit up. “I’m good to go.” Her attempts at sitting up were feeble, and she put herself in more pain trying to do so.

“Hey,” Clarke got her attention. “Listen to me. That bullet is still inside you. If, by some miracle, there’s no internal bleeding, it might hold until we get somewhere safe. But you are not walking there. Is that clear?”

Raven nodded and laid back down on the table while Finn went to get the stretcher to put her on. 

“Can’t run away fast enough, huh? That’s brave, real brave.” Bellamy commented in a snide tone.

Finn turned at his comment and walked back over to the man. “Dying in a fight you can’t win isn’t brave, Bellamy. It’s stupid.”

“Spoken like every coward who’s ever run from a fight.” Bellamy walked closer to Finn as he spoke, getting dangerously close. The tension in the room was high due to their verbal fight, and you could feel that this was going to escalate quickly.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You spoke up from beside Raven. “You two need to stop. We have to go.”

“If they follow, it’s a 120 mile walk to the ocean.” Bellamy informed you. 

“Like I said,” You moved closer to Bellamy. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take to make sure my people don’t die.”

“Look, we’re wasting time.” Finn interrupted. “If he wants to stay, he can stay.” 

“No, he can’t,” Clarke replied, but Finn was already out of the dropship. She turned and walked up to Bellamy to try and get him to come along.

“We can’t do this without you, Bellamy.” She told him.

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?” He replied angrily and with a steeled expression, keeping his gaze looking over her shoulder.

“I want you to say that you’re with us.” She said.

“Those kids out there,” You stepped in to help persuade him. “They listen to you, Bellamy.” 

“They’re lining up to go. They clearly listen to you more.” He countered. 

“We gave them an easy choice.” Clarke said. “But 5 minutes ago they were willing to fight and die for you. You inspire them.”

He looked up at the doors, and then to you without saying a word. “I’m afraid we’re gonna need that again before this day is through.”

She turned and walked out of the ship, while you took her spot in front of Bellamy and out a reassuring hand on his arm. “Come with us, Bellamy. You’re one of us, and like it or not, we need you.”

Not long after, everyone was ready to leave camp. The gunners were leading the walk to protect against any attacks, while the others stayed behind them and carried what they could. You and Clarke waited until everyone else was out of the camp to make your way to Bellamy, who was still looking at the ship. 

“You did good here, Bellamy.” Clarke assured.

“18 dead.” He said.

“And 82 alive.” You countered. “You did good.”

He nodded and tossed a bucket of water onto the fire, throwing it to the ground and walking away with you and Clarke. 

You’d walked a fair bit, keeping your hand on your sword’s hilt in case there was someone you needed to fight. It wasn’t very long until the group stopped moving, and from where you, Bellamy and Clarke were, you couldn’t see what was going on. It was then that you heard a loud thump and Jasper scream out that the grounders attacked did everyone rush to get back to camp.

You and Bellamy directed everyone inside the walls of camp and everyone moved to their own stations or foxholes, prepping hastily for the battle. You helped to close the door and unsheathed your sword while Bellamy was at the watchtower. 

“Lincoln said the scouts would be the first to arrive.” Clarke said, directing her sentence to Finn.

“If it’s just scouts then we can fight our way out.” Octavia chimed in. “That’s what Lincoln would do.”

“We’re done doing what that grounder would do.” Bellamy jumped down from his post. “We tried it and now Drew’s dead. Do you wanna be next?”

“That grounder saved our lives.” Finn defended. “I agree with Octavia. For all we know there’s one scout out there.”

“Yeah, a scout with insanely good aim.” Jasper said. 

“Clarke, Y/n, we can still do this.” Octavia pleaded. 

“Looking at you guys, what’s it gonna be?” Bellamy asked you. “Run and get picked off out in the open, or stand and fight back?”

You took a mental step back and assessed the situation. If you agreed with Octavia and fought your way to the ocean, you might not make it out alive. The grounders would surround you and you’d be in their territory, vulnerable to a major loss. If you stayed in camp and tried to do what you could to fight, you’d have a better chance of surviving and you’d likely lose less people to the grounders. 

You looked at Clarke and voiced your opinion as she looked out into the woods before jumping back down. “I say we’re staying. If we use everything we’ve got and fight like hell, we could actually make it out alive.”

“Clarke,” Finn grabbed the blonde’s arm. “If we’re still here when Tristan gets here-”

“Lincoln said ‘scouts’. More than one. He told us to get home before the scouts arrived. Finn, they’re already here.” She turned to Bellamy. “Looks like you’ve got your fight.”

“Okay then.” He spoke loudly to address the other campers. “This is what we’ve been preparing for. Kill them before they kill us.”

“Gunners, to your posts!” You shouted beside him. “Use the tunnels to get in and out. From now on, the gate stays closed.”

You watched everyone move into position as Octavia did, too, but Bellamy caught her arm, telling her she wasn’t a gunner and she defended herself before moving to the exit to help with the battle. 

“So, how the hell do we do this?” Clarke asked. You all moved into the dropship to explain the plan and information you had to her, Finn, and Raven.

“We’ve got 25 rifles with 20 rounds each, give or take.” Bellamy said. “Roughly 500 rounds of ammo.”

“While you two were gone, we made some improvements.” You took over. “Thanks to Raven, the gully is mined.” 

“Partially mined.” Raven corrected painfully. “Thanks to Murphy.”

“Still, it’s the main route in. If the grounders use it, we’ll know.” Bellamy told the room. 

“She also made grenades.” You picked one up to show Clarke and Finn.

“There’s not many,” Clarke commented.

“Again. Thank you, Murphy.” Raven said sarcastically. 

“We’ll make them count. If the grounders make it through the front gate, guns and grenades should force them back.” Bellamy pointed to the scale model of the front gate on the table. 

“And then?” Clarke asked worriedly.

“Then, we close the door and pray.” Raven said. 

“And pray what? That the ship keeps them out?” She asked. “Because it won’t.”

“Then let’s not let them get past the front gate.” You said, looking at the scale model and gripping your jacket sleeve in hopes to relieve some stress. 

“All foxholes, listen up.” Bellamy spoke into the radio. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Inflict casualties, as many as possible. You can hold them off long enough to make them turn back. That’s the plan.”

“That’s always your plan.” Finn said. “Just like the bomb at the bridge.”

“Damn right. You got a better idea?” 

“I think I do.” You spoke up. “Raven, you said there’s fuel in those rockets, right? Enough to build 100 bombs.”

“I also said we’ve got no gunpowder left.” She told you. 

“I don’t want to build a bomb.” You said. “I want to blast off.” 

“Draw them in close, fire the rockets. A ring of fire.” Clarke explained simply, smirking along with Raven. 

“Barbequed grounders. I like it.” Bellamy agreed.

“Will it work?” Finn asked Raven.

“The wiring is a mess down there, but yeah.” She turned to you and Bellamy. “If you give me enough time, I’ll cook ‘em real good.” 

You smirked at her and nodded, liking that you had an even better plan than what was formed before. Clarke and Finn went underneath the floor of the dropship to look for the ignition system while Raven sat near the floor entrance and worked on repairing the electrical board, while you and Bellamy headed out to prep for the impending and inevitable war.

It was nightfall when you heard the drums. You were by the fire, sharpening your own and other people’s blades in case it came time to use them. You looked to Bellamy, who seemed to have the same idea as you, and ran to the main foxhole. 

“Where’s Octavia?” He asked Miller.

“No idea. She left 5 minutes ago, didn’t say where to.” He responded. “She thinks she’s a damn samurai.”

“Do you see anything?” You asked, sword drawn.

“No.” Monroe replied frustratedly. “What the hell are they waiting for?”

“The longer they wait, the better. This is about buying time for Raven.” He told her.

“I see them! They’re moving!” Sterling’s voice cut through the air, slightly staticy. “I count 2, 3- no, wait, there’s more. I don’t know man, there’s too damn many of them!”

A gunshot rang through the air and Bellamy asked Miller who was on the radio. “Sterling, I think. South foxhole.”

More gunshots rang out as Bellamy pulled out his radio. “South foxhole, report now.”

“Yeah, yeah, We’re okay. They didn’t attack. It’s like shooting at ghosts.”

You kept your eyes on the terrain ahead of you, seeing grounders move across your field of vision. “There!” 

“I see them!” Monroe shouted, shooting at the grounders. Miller joined her and Bellamy shouted at them to stop.

“Reload, now.” He commanded, as they were both out of bullets. 

“Those were our last clips.” Miller told him.

“We should- we should fall back.” Monroe suggested, panicked.

“No.” Bellamy said. “If this position falls, they’ll walk right through the front door.”

You unsteadily readied your sword as Bellamy positioned himself to look through the scope of his gun. You kept your stance and listened to the radio, Jasper confirming that the land mines worked.

“Jasper, we need you in the dropship, now.” Clarke’s voice came through.

“Negative.” Bellamy responded. “We can’t give up the west woods.”

“The west woods are mined, Bellamy. The grounders just figured that out.” Clarke said. “Jasper, get in here.” 

“All gunners, listen up.” Jasper spoke. “The grounders are not attacking. They’re making us waste bullets. Don’t shoot when they’re running laterally.”

“Jasper’s right,” Bellamy confirmed. “Don’t fire until you’re sure it’s an attack. Repeat, do not fire until you are sure.”

Jasper then told Clarke that he was coming to help out, and you looked around worriedly. Something was feeling off to you. You didn’t know what it was, but your gut instincts were telling you to flee, to leave now and save yourself. But you knew to go against them, that you had to stay and fight. This was your battle, too. 

Then it came. The gunfire, the battlecry. Grounders were headed straight towards you. You swung your sword as they ran for you, Monroe falling back with Miller. You slashed one grounder's throat and spun as you did so, plunging your sword into another grounder’s chest. 

One of them attacked Bellamy and pushed him to the ground, Miller attempting to go after him, but failing when another grounder shoved his spear into Miller’s shoulder. Bellamy managed to fight the grounder, but failed when he was pushed to the ground again, the grounder’s hands tightening themselves around Bellamy’s neck. 

You were busy fighting one of the other grounders and couldn’t help, but once you had killed him, you saw Octavia shove her sword through the back of the grounder’s head and straight through his eye, saving her brother.

“Admit it, you want one.” She said, panting. Before she could help her brother up off the ground, an arrow fired from behind her and struck her in the leg, causing her to falter and fall, Bellamy catching her. 

“Miller! Fall back! Now!” He stood and grabbed Octavia by the arms to support her. “Can you walk?”

She stumbled and he put her arm over his shoulder. “O, hey. Hold on to me. Let me get you behind that wall.” He carried her bridal style and you followed behind, serving as cover for the siblings in case any grounders tried to attack them while they were vulnerable.

When you neared the gate, you heard screaming and metal clashing, causing Bellamy and you to skid to a halt. 

“What is that?” Octavia asked.

“I don’t know, but they’re distracted.” Her brother responded, placing her against a tree. “Let’s move.” 

“We’ll never make it.” Octavia panted. “Leave me. I’ll find another way.”

“No way in hell are we leaving you here.” You said. 

“Octavia!” Lincoln said from behind you as he broke through the trees. A small smile came to your lips as they hugged. 

“You did this?” Bellamy asked, nodding his head towards the reapers and grounders fighting one another.

“With Finn.” He told Bellamy. He looked down at the broken arrow in Octavia’s leg. “It’s deep.”

A grunt came from nearby and Lincoln spoke quickly. “I can help you, but you have to come with me now.” 

“Go.” Bellamy said. “Let him help you.”

“No way,” Said Octavia. “I have to see this through.”

“You can’t walk and we can’t get you to the dropship.” You intervened. 

“They’re right. This fight is over for you.” Lincoln told Octavia. 

“O. O, listen to me.” Bellamy said. “I told you my life ended the day you were born. The truth is, it didn’t start until then. So go with him. I need you to live. Besides, we’ve got this.”

You put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled at her, letting go so she could hug Bellamy and say their own goodbyes before being carried away by Lincoln so she could remain safe. 

You both paused for a minute until the shouting began again, revealing that the grounders were advancing on the wall. You and Bellamy picked up the pace and ran to the entrance. Clarke and Finn spotted the both of you, screaming for you to run, which you did. Bellamy picked up a gun and attempted to shoot at Tristan, but it was out of ammo. 

You didn't make it very far from the entrance when four grounders closed in on you. You managed to take down the first one with relative ease, slicing his throat. One of the others attempted to bash your head in but you sliced his arm, causing him to fall with pain. You kicked him over forcefully and plunged your sword into his heart.

You spun around to face another grounder, thrusting yourself and your sword forward, stabbing him in the stomach. You watched the dropship door close, and you feared you were running out of time. You froze in your spot, but not for very long when the last grounder that had surrounded you shoved his dagger all the way into your right side, more towards your back. 

The grounder left you once you collapsed to your knees, attempting to tear the dropship down to nothing with the rest of the army. You knew the blast was coming soon, so you dragged yourself to the exit and attempted pulling yourself to your feet. You groaned in pain, coughing at the sting of the blade. ‘I’ve been here for what, a month? And I’ve already been stabbed twice.’

You stumbled to the path that led out to the main gate as the rumbling of fire and the heat touched your skin. You slowly walked as the energy further drained from your body, feeling blood drip down your skin. The knife moved and tore your flesh every time you made a movement, but you knew it was important that you got to the main gate. You needed to survive. You needed to live. 

You felt yourself getting lighter with every step, pushing through bushes and shrubbery. A sigh escaped your dry and pale lips as you saw the treeline, the wall. You reached out to stabilize yourself on it, but you fell to your knees instead, collapsing as darkness surrounded you. Your torso and head hit the ground with a thud, but no pain was felt when you hit the dirt. You just closed your eyes, feeling at peace. 

Taglist:  @soullessbabee​ | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​ | @dummythiccwitch​ | @sireddobrev​ | @gxvrielle​ | @hurricane-abigail

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Virago 11. Ring of Fire

Summary: Y/N was sent to the ground after spending five years in the Skybox for stealing medical supplies and murder. How will she deal with her new environment and learn to survive on earth? Will she crack under the pressure of becoming a leader of the 100 or will she embrace it. 

Post Date: 07.17.20

Word count: 3.3k

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Based off: 01x13 “We are Grounders: Part II”

Masterlist

100 Master List

You head over to the Dropship walking through the cluster of kids packing up as you hear screams of pain. As you make your way into the Dropship you find Clarke pressing a red hot knife against Raven’s wounded body.

“That’ll stop the external bleeding,” Clarke states setting the knife down.

“I don’t understand. How did Murphy get a gun?” Finn asks.

“Long story,” You respond as you limp in.

“You should be resting,” Bellamy states to you.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” You respond making your way to Raven.

“We got lucky. If Murphy hit the fuel tank instead of me, we’d all be dead,” Raven says raspily.

“Wait, there’s rocket fuel down there? Enough to build a bomb?” Clarke questions Raven.

“Enough to build 100 bombs...If we had any gunpowder left,” Raven states.

“Let’s get back to the reapers. Maybe they’ll help us. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” Bellamy asks clearly referring to something you didn’t know about.

“Not this enemy. We saw them. Trust me. It’s not an option,” Clarke states.

“Hold up. Can someone catch me up?” You ask looking at the three.

“Lincoln took Finn and me into a cave where these grounders live, except they’re not like the ones we’ve met. They’re the kill on sight kind of people.” Clarke explains.

“There’s no time for this.” Finn states. “Can she walk or not?” He makes his voice quieter, thinking that Raven couldn’t hear.

“No. We have to carry her.” Clarke responds.

“The hell you will. I’m good to go,” Raven says struggling to sit up.

“Hey, listen to me. That bullet is still inside you. If by some miracle, there’s no internal bleeding, it might hold until we get somewhere safe. But you are not walking there. Is that clear?” Clarke questions Raven as she nods in agreement.

“Hey, I’d be much happier if you didn’t die on me,” You say to Raven.

“I’ll get the stretcher,” Finn says walking off.

“Hey, get one for Y/N too,” Clarke says and Finn nods in response.

“I’m fine. I can walk if. I’m going.” You respond sternly.

“Your wound was just reopened. Not to mention gaining another one. You’re too weak to walk,” Clarke responds back.

“Carrying me will just make us slower. I’ll walk.” You respond not backing down. Clarke does nothing but sigh as we really had no time to fight.

“Can’t run away fast, huh? Real brave.” Bellamy states.

“Dying in a fight you can’t win isn’t brave, Bellamy. It’s stupid.” Finn makes his way back to us.

“Spoken like every coward who’s ever run from a fight,” Bellamy says getting closer to Finn.

“All right that’s enough,” You butt in.

“It’s time to go,” Clarke chimes in.

“If they follow? It’s a 120-mile walk to the ocean,” Bellamy starts.

“Look, we’re wasting time. If they want to stay, they can stay,” Finn interrupts walking off.

“No, they can’t,” Clarke says as Finn storms out of the Dropship. “We can’t do this without you guys, Bellamy and Y/N,” Clarke turns back to us.

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?” Bellamy asks.

“I want you to say that you’re with us. Both of you. Those kids out there, they listen to you guys.” Clarke says shifting her gaze between the two of you.

“They’re lining up to go. They listen to you more,” You add in.

“I gave them an easy choice,. But five minutes ago, they were willing to fight and die for you. You guys inspire them. I’m afraid we’re gonna need that again before this day is through.” Clarke tells you two before walking off.

“So what are we gonna do?” You ask turning to Bellamy.

“We’re leaving. Get packing.” Bellamy states before walking out. 

You leave the Dropship and start to quickly pack your items out before making your way back to the Dropship. You help the others get Raven onto a stretcher and meet Bellamy outside as the other kids start to leave the camp.

“You guys did good here,” Clarke says as you two make your way to her.

“18 dead,” You state.

“82 alive, you guys did good, Clarke responds back. Bellamy picks up the bucket beside him and toses the water inside atop the fire behind him. 

We continue through the forest, making our way to the ocean. After walking a few miles, you notice Octavia, who was at the front, put her hand up, stopping us all. The next thing you know you see a kid up ahead fall down. 

“Grounders!” You hear Jasper yell and everyone starts to run back from where we came.  You start to run back with the others. You only make it a few feet before your leg gives out and you trip over your own feet, sending you to the ground.

“Y/N!” Bellamy yells stopping in his tracks. “Here, get on my back,” Bellamy leans down as you grab his shoulders. He lifts you up and starts to run back to the camp. As you make it back to the camp Bellamy sets you down and helps get the others into camp.

“Move, move, move!” Bellamy yells to the kids as they push and shove. As soon as everyone was in you help push the gate shut no matter how much your leg hurt. You just wanted to get everyone safely inside, or as safe as we could be.

You head up to where Bellamy and Clarke were standing to look for the grounders, “Where are they? Why aren’t they attacking?” Bellamy asks ready to shoot.

“Because we’re doing exactly what they want us to do,” You state.

“What are you talking about?” Bellamy asks.

“Lincoln said the scouts would be the first to arrive,” Clarke states.

“If it’s just the scouts, we can fight our way out. That’s what Lincoln would do,” Octavia states walking up to us.

“We’re done doing what that grounder would do. We tried it and now Drew is dead. You want to be next?” Bellamy questions jumping down from the ledge.

“That grounder saved our lives. I agree with Octavia. For all we know, there’s one scout out there.” Finn responds.

“One scout with insanely good aim,” Jasper adds.

“Clarke, we can still do this,” Octavia states.

“Looking to you, Princess. What’s it gonna be? Run and get picked off out in the open, or stand and fight back?” Bellamy asks. Clarke turns to look out past the walls before hopping down from the ledge as you do the same.

“Clarke. If we’re still here when Tristan gets here--” Finn stops Clarke.

“Lincoln said ‘scouts’ more than one. He said ‘get home before the scouts arrive’. Finn, they’re already here.” Clarke interrupts Finn. “ Looks like you got your fight,” Clarke turns to Bellamy.

“Ok, then. This is what we’ve been preparing for. Kill them before they kill us. Gunners, to your posts. Use the tunnels to get in and out. From now on. The gate stays closed.” Bellamy states as kids start to prepare to fight.

You head off with Octavia to prepare to fight, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You guy’s aren’t gunners,” Bellamy grapes both yours and Octavia’s arms.

“No. We’re not,” You respond.

“Like you said....I’m a grounder,” Octavia responds holding her machete before walking off. You start to follow her before Bellamy stops you again.

“What?” You ask wanting to get a move on.

“You’re not going anywhere. Not with that leg,” Bellamy’s eyes shift down to your leg then back to your eyes.

“I’m fighting, Bell. I’m not letting anything happen to our people,” You respond annoyed.

“Look. Y/N. You tripped on the way back to camp. You can barely stand.” Bellamy points to you favoring your left leg. “I’m not letting you get hurt more than you already are. You can’t fight. We have this handled, Now get in the Dropship with Raven.” Bellamy responds back.

“You don’t control me!” You yell getting angry. “I can’t just sit back and hope all goes well. I want to be out here fighting, protecting what we made, Bell!” You state. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, Y/N. But Bellamy’s right. We can’t have you out here risking your life, being that hurt. We need you alive.” Clarke butts in walking up to you two.

“Ugh!” You head into the Dropship being sick of hearing people telling you what to do. You throw your stuff to the side before starting to head up the ladder.

“Got benched too?” You hear Raven off to the side. 

“Yeah. Clarke and Bellamy are heart set on keeping me in here,” You say making your way to her. “I’m sick of people telling me what to do,” You sit next to her.

“With all due respect, Y/N. But I agree with them. You need your strength and we need you. I would love to fight too but--” Raven gestures to her gun wounds.

“I get that they’re just looking out for me. But I can’t just sit back here and wait,” You say. Before Raven could respond, you notice Bellamy, and Clarke makes their way in.

“We’ve got 25 rifles with 20 rounds each, give or take. Roughly 500 rounds of ammo. While you two were gone. We made some improvements. Thanks to Raven, the gully is mined.” Bellamy explains as you all gather around the mini-map of the camp.

“Partially mined. Thanks to Murphy,” Raven explains straining.

“Still, it’s the main route in. If the grounders use it, we’ll know. She also built grenades,” Bellamy explains picking up a slim tube.

“It’s not many,” You point out.

“Again, thank you, Murphy,” Raven says annoyed.

“We’ll make them count.” Bellamy sets the grenade back down. “If the grounders make it through the front gate, guns and grenades should force them back,” Bellamy explains.

“And then?” Clarke asks.

“Then we close the door and pray.” Raven breaks the silence.

“And pray what?” You ask.

“That the ship keeps them out? Because it won’t.” Clarke adds.

“Then let’s not let them get through the gate,” Bellamy responds. “All foxholes, listen up. Keep your eyes and ears open. Inflict casualties, as many as possible. You can hold them off long enough to make them turn back. That’s the plan.” Bellamy speaks into the radio.

“That’s always your plan, just like at the bridge.” Finn states.

“Damn right. You got a better idea?” Bellamy asked back.

“It can’t be that simple,” Clarke whispers under her breath and turns to Raven. “You said there’s fuel in those rockets right? Enough to build 100 bombs.” Clarke asks her.

“I also said we’ve got no gun powder left.” Raven states.

“I don’t want to build a bomb. I want to blast off.” Clarke says.

“Draw them in close. Fire the rockets. A ring of fire.” Raven says figuring out what Clarke was getting at.

“Barbecued grounders. I like it.” Bellamy says.

“I don’t,” You butt in.

“We don’t have much of a choice, Y/N,” Bellamy says back.

“Will it work?” Finn turns to Raven.

“The wirings a mess down there, but yeah. You give me enough time, I’ll cook them real good.” Raven responds. You say nothing as you can clearly tell no one cares for your opinion. Clarke and Finn head down into the underside of the ship as you help Raven with her set up.

“Finn, do you see it over there?” You hear Clarke below you guys.

“No,” Finn responds as you help her wire a few things.

“Raven, We can’t even find the ignition system. Raven?” Clarke says waiting for an answer. You watch as she sits there in thought.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Raven finally speaks. 

“Ok, hold on. We’re coming,” Clarke says as you rush over.

“Hey, you’re gonna be ok. We’re gonna figure this out and then get you help. Ok, We got this,” You assure her as she nods.

“Ok, let me see,” Clarke says making her way out of the floor. Raven starts to lean forward as she groans in pain. Clarke lifts her shirt up to reveal bruising, before looking over at Finn.

“That bad, huh?” Raven asks sarcastically. Clarke stays silent as she helps Raven back up.

“Oh, Raven. The bullet’s in your spine. You’re bleeding internally,” Clarke explains.

“We better do this fast then, huh? Get back down there.” Raven responds, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

“What if we could slow the bleeding? Would that help?” Finn stops Clarke from moving.

“Well, of course it would help. Can you tell me how to do that?” Clarke asks.

“That stuff the grounders had-- coagulant. You said that Lincoln had some, too,” Finn explains.

“Yeah, it’s in the box with the antidote, but I--” Clarke starts.

“I’m betting that there’s more of it in his cave. If I can get there--” Finn interrupts.

“Wait a second. No,” Raven responds.

“I can make it,” Finn says back.

“Clarke, Y/N, tell him he’s being an idiot,” Raven responds.

“Raven,” Finn says.

“What? I’m not gonna let you die to save me,” Raven tells Finn.

“Fine. If you won’t let me save you, How about we save everybody else? You’re the only one who can fire those rockets. If you die, we all die.” Finn suggests. Raven shakes her head at him. “I’ll be right back,” Finn says looking at us and heads off.

“Finn, wait,” Clarke says getting up. You don’t hear their conversation as they are talking too quietly.

Seeing as there has been no recent activity you head outside to check up on everyone, “Hey, hows everyone out there?” You ask Bellamy making your way over to him.

“Freaked but alive.” He responds.

“You guys got enough stuff out here?” You ask.

“Yeah, I think so,” Bellamy says as you start to hear drums.

“They’re here,” Some kid says.

“Get back in the Dropship, Y/N,” Bellamy demands.

“But Bell--” You start.

“Get back in the damn ship, Y/N,” Bellamy demands once more before running off. Even though you wanted to fight you knew Bellamy was right. That and you still needed to help Raven and Clarke.

You rush back into the ship to help finish making Raven’s “Ring of Fire”. You find only Raven sitting by the hole, “Hey, where’s Clarke?” You asked her.

“Below us,” Raven explains.

“Ok, what can I do to help?” You ask.

“Could you help me wire this?” She asks and you nod back. She explains what she’s doing and walks you through the wiring as you hear the kids outside speaking over the radio.

“Do you see it or don’t you?” Raven asks Clarke looking down the hole.

“No. It’s a mess down here,” Clarke responds.

“It’ll be orange. Look harder!” Raven says back.

“I’ll go help her look,” You says starting to move towards the hole.

“No, your leg is too injured,” Raven says grabbing your arm. “And you’re actually a big help up here,” 

“Fine,” You sigh.

“You have to find the wire that connects the manual override to the electromagnet. It’s not rocket science.” Raven tells Clarke.

“It is rocket science, actually,” Clarke responds.

“Guess we finally found something you’re not good at. I used to be picked first for everything. Earth skills, Zero-g mech course. First… every time. So, how the hell did I end up here?” Raven says as you clearly notice Raven getting sad.

“Raven? I’d pick you first.” You say looking up at her.

“I’d pick you first too,” Clare says in quick succession after you.

“Of course you guys would. I’m awesome,” Raven says shaking off the sadness.

“Hey, I found it. Orange wire.” Clarke says.

“About time! Now follow that wire to the override panel,” Raven explains.

“Raven? It’s fried. Totally useless. Tell me this isn’t as bad and I think.” Clarke says as you notice Raven’s upset face.

“You know how to splice a wire?” Raven asks.

“No,” Clarke responds.

“Then it’s worse,” Raven says. She tries to move before screaming in pain.

“Raven. Stop, we’ll figure this out.” You say. “Wait. I can splice, someone taught me a few years ago.” You reveal as you hop down below. You start to splice the wire.

“Hey, Raven, tell us again how this is gonna work,” Clarke asks.

“Told you 5 times. Current flows to the electromagnet. That opens the poppet valve. Rockets fire.” Raven explains.

“Ok. Got the good wire ready to graft on. What’s next?” You ask. “Raven?” You ask after getting no response. “Raven!” You yell once more before Clarke starts to head back up. You follow after her and find her laying on her side, unconscious.

“Is she--” You start.

“Not yet, but soon.” Clarke quickly responds.

“They broke through. There’s hundreds of them! They’re heading for the gate! Game over, man!” You hear over the radio.

“Finish it,” Clarke says getting ready to help Raven.

“Current to magnet to valve to fire,” You repeat heading back under the floor. As you work on the wiring you hear kids starting to rush into the Dropship, signaling that Clarke is preparing to get people inside.

“Clarke, they’re taking down the gate,” You hear someone say as you finish up the wiring.

“Good. Because I did it...I think,” You say popping your head from under the floor.

“I’m closing that door,” Miller says.

“Wait! We’ve still got people out there. Bellamy’s not back yet.” Clarke says making her way out of the ship. You finish hooking up the destination switch as Jasper helps you.  You look up to see Clarke come in and lift the lever to shut the door.

“No! We have to wait for Bellamy and Octavia!” You yell trying to make your way to her as quickly as possible.

“We don’t have time. I’m sorry, Y/N. We have to shut the door.” Clarke says continuing to lift the lever and holding you from leaving the ship. As you continue to fight Clarke, you see Anya come into the ship. You prepare yourself to fight, holding the knife you keep in your pocket up. As you all continue to stand off Anya, you hear banging of the grounders outside.

“Jasper, now.” Clarke turns to him. He quickly flicks the switch up, but nothing happens as you continue to hear banging from outside the ship.

“Anya, you can’t win,” Clarke says as you rush over to help Jasper. Anya rushes Clarke just as Miller hits her in the back of her head with a gun. The other kids start to punch and kick her.

“Stop! She’s already down.” Clarke yells over the kids.

“Raven says current flows to the magnet.” You say.

“We just need a current,” Jasper says unhooking the switch device as you take the wires. You ignore the fighting around you as Jasper grabs a lamp behind you guys and starts to unscrew it. He takes the wires from your hands and puts them on the battery of the lamp. Soon enough you feel the whole ship shake.

After a few hours, you guess to make sure no one else comes. You quickly go to open the door. When you walk out you see the burnt ground and remains of the grounders that were there. As you and everyone else head out of the ship you quickly look around hoping that Bellamy and Octavia had found a place away from the chaos. You walk over to Clarke as you see her stare at two bodies, hoping it wasn’t the two people closest to you. 

Before you could say something you see something fly towards you releasing a red smoke. More and more fly over your gates as the area begins to look red. You start coughing and fall to the ground. The last thing you see is green lasers and people with gas masks and guns as you pass out.

A/N: The season one finale! God, this series has evolved in more ways than I imagined. I hope you all enjoyed this finale and can’t wait for season 2! Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @im-a-writer-right | @marsbar-inspace32​ | @zestylemon99​ | @trashmouth-lizzy​ | @thebeautifulbookworm​ | @gxvrielle​ | @simonsbluee​

[dominique-myles]

Degrassi next class season 4

After 18 season 8 1/2 in the last 2 weeks I’m done. Here is my final review. Season 4 starts off with Grace and Jonah being a couple which I love them together. This causes Frankie to go into a tailspin. She ends up hanging out Zig and Esme at a party. Esme, zig and Frankie end up becoming this very weird throuple. This season We see a decline in Esme mental health especially after finding Maya. You really see how bad it’s gotten for her when they go on the camping trip, however the boiling point is prom and Grad. Yael and Lola continue their friendship, after Yale starts binding there chest and becomes confused with there gender, Lola helps them relize they are non-binary. This causes confusion for Hunter and he end the relationship. We also get plenty more Sadd this season, he admits to Esme that he was the last one to see Maya before she tried to jump off the roof. Esme tells Zig this and he and Sadd get into a fight and Zig breaks his camera and he gives Zig a black eye. Sadd decides to get a job to fix the camera and ends up working at Lola’s family restaurant and this starts there friendship. There friendship has ups and downs, Lola accuses him of stealing and being a terrorist and possibly sending a bomb threat. She eventually kiss him and makes up with him. After there is a terror attack in Belgium, Sadd has some complicated thought about how people handel it and a lot of people hate him for that . He actually does fall down a hole where he connects with a possible radical but he realizes something is wrong and gets Lola and Yael to help him out of it. This terror attack also affects Goldi. She’s out with Winston on the night of the attack and some guys attack her and tries to rip her Hijab off. This attacks forces her to starts a Muslim student association. Rasha and Zoë are still going strong. Zoë has to deal with her mother still not accepting her sexuality. Grace still needs a transplant and Jonah helps her get over the fear and is with her every step of the way. Miles is still supporting Tristan and being a good boyfriend. He lands an interview with a writing program in England but it’s a diversity spot because he’s Bisexual. He’s doesn’t want it at first but then the teacher does this exercise to show how perspectives change people and everyone admits that Miles writing has helped them at one time or another. Tristan and miles end up break up because Tristan does want to hold Miles back. Maya is still trying to recover and figure out her place. She has a hard time getting back up on stage but Tristan helps her and she actually sings at a talent show where we get a Craig cameo and Craig offers her a chance to audition to be an opener for his show. Tiny, Maya, Zig, Grace, Esme, Shay, Jonah and Frankie go camping. Maya eats some of Esme’a weed brownies and Zig helps her come down. After seeing Zig and maya getting close, Esme fakes a bee sting for attention, and Zig breaks up with her. Things are looking up for everyone by the end except at prom someone calls in a bomb threat, they think it’s Sadd but it’s really Esme trying to stop Maya and Zig from going to prom together. After getting into fight at prom Esme accidentally pushed Zig down a cliff. The next day she come to apologize and Zig realizes she needs help and one of the teachers comes and offers her help. After grad there is an after party at Miles and everyone hangs out and it’s kinda a wrap up the season. I wish we did get a bit more from Tiny, Frankie, Shay & Hunter they kinda felt like supporting characters and had very minimal storylines. The season ends with a montage of what all the graduated characters did after grad and as they started there new lives. We had some pretty good issues this season mental illness, sexuality, gender, religion, race and some much more. I wish we got a bit more of a series finale feel at the end but otherwise no complaints. All in all solid end to a series I give it a B-.

[johaerys-writes]

Dorian Pavus x Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 7: One Less Venatori

Have a chapter where Tristan is allergic to pretty much everything in the Hinterlands and sneezes all over the place and almost gets killed as a result. Because I have a cold and I wanted someone else to suffer with me LOL

Read here or on AO3!

******************************

Those first few months after becoming the Inquisitor, Tristan felt like he was constantly running around like a headless chicken.

From destroying red lyrium mines, soaked to his bones with rain in the Storm Coast, to trudging miserably through the Fallow Mire up to his waist in swampy water, to then riding at dead speed to the Hissing Wastes and the Western Approach to chase Venatori, he was utterly swamped. If he had known what being the Inquisitor involved, he would have given Leliana and Cassandra the Inquisition sword right back and politely excused himself before running away as fast as he could. And let the whole world boo him as he fled, for all he cared. Tristan Trevelyan, the former wastrel son of House Trevelyan, would not be snowed under a mountain of responsibilities. He would not!

Thankfully, not everything was terrible about those missions.

Dorian’s company was something of a lifesaver. With his banter and cordial disposition, he even made those dreaded expeditions to the Western Approach almost bearable.

It was no secret to anyone that knew him that Tristan disliked that place with a passion. The endless sand dunes, the scorching heat in the day and blistering cold at night, the sandstorms that sometimes confined them to their shelters for hours, even days on end, the venomous beasts that prowled about, and worst of all, the darkspawn, remainders of the previous Blights and harbingers of the next… Needless to say, he despised it all.

Yet with Dorian around, he often forgot about it. He had the ability to make even the most mundane or unpleasant activities seem like marvellous fun. The man did have a temper, however. One of the targets and frequent causes of his irritability was Blackwall, whom he teased relentlessly. Blackwall himself never missed an opportunity to jab at the mage, so their trips often turned into contests of who would aggravate whom more efficiently, with Tristan in the middle as the referee. In the end, he resolved not to bring both of them along if he could avoid it, although there were missions where they were both indispensable.

One of those missions had brought them to the rolling, green plains of the Hinterlands. If the Western Approach was a dried up wasteland with nothing but sand and murderous hyenas for miles, the Hinterlands was a smelly dump full of dirt, mud and grass as far as the eye could see. Bees, flies and various other insects, whose names Tristan didn’t even remotely know, were buzzing around his ears in an endless tirade as he hobbled through the verdant countryside. The smell of goat turd that seemed to emanate from every direction did not make things any better.

“Does the cold not bother any of you? Truly?” he heard Dorian complaining a few steps behind him.

Ah, yes. The cold. In between walking all day long and sneezing furiously because of his allergies to the local flora and fauna, Tristan had forgotten about the cold. At least there was someone else who shared his dislike for the wretched place.

“It’s not so bad” Blackwall replied. He was well ahead of them all, walking in long strides, stopping here and there to appreciate the view or stoop and rub elfroot leaves between his palms. He had urged Tristan to do the same, as elfroot apparently let out a wonderful scent when rubbed, but Tristan remained thoroughly unconvinced.

“Of course it’s not so bad. It’s worse” Dorian spat with distaste. “Kaffas!” he exclaimed suddenly, and started scraping the sole of his boot on a rock.

“I’ve always liked Ferelden. It’s a straightforward sort of place” Blackwall continued, seemingly unaware of Dorian’s grunts and swears.

“I’d suppose it would seem that way to someone who’s been clubbed on the head too often.” Dorian was now inspecting his shoes, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Tristan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. Solas, on the other hand, walked away to study the ruins of an old tower, putting some safe distance between him and the commotion.

Blackwall spun towards him, his blue eyes blazing menacingly underneath his bushy black eyebrows. “Careful I don’t club you on the head, mage.” he growled.

Dorian, satisfied that his boots were clean enough, stood tall, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I would expect no less from your kind, warden.” His black curls glinted in the sunlight when he tossed his head back defiantly.

A violent bout of sneezing forced them to end their staring contest and drew their attention on Tristan. He turned his back to them as he waited for his allergy to pass, and haggardly blew his nose on his handkerchief.

“I’m inclined to say the Inquisitor agrees with me, Blackwall. I could take that as a sort of applause, don’t you think?” Dorian sneered. Blackwall was about to reply when Tristan held his hand up to stop him.

“Enough. Both of you.” His eyes were watering and his nose was itching, but he resisted the temptation to scratch it. “We have too many things to do today to waste time arguing over nonsense.”

“Apologies, Inquisitor” Blackwall grumbled.

Dorian simply clicked his tongue disapprovingly as a response as he turned his back to the warrior.

Eyes burning terribly, Tristan stooped down and rummaged through his satchel for the elfroot and felandaris potion that Adan had said would help with his allergies. The grumpy herbalist had warned him not to take too much of it, as it might make him nauseous or woozy, but Tristan could not care less at this point. Anything was better than sneezing his way through the damned place. Tristan almost sighed in relief as he downed the entire contents of the small vial. It had a bitter taste that made him wince, but soon he could see and breathe normally.

From his spot a little way away, Solas studied him carefully. He stepped closer to him without making so much as a sound, until he could speak to him in a whisper. “Is it wise to take another of these potions so soon after you took the last one, Inquisitor? Felandaris extract is not supposed to be ingested in such large amounts.”

Tristan waved his concerns away casually. “I’ll be fine, Solas. Don’t you worry.”

They all walked for a while in blessed silence. The sun was brushing against the mountain range along the west when they reached a tall and steep hill.

“Where did you say that Grey Warden camp is, Blackwall?” Tristan asked.

Blackwall glanced about him, then nodded towards the summit of that hill. “That should be it, my lord.”

They hadn’t even climbed half of it, when Tristan’s ears pricked up at the sound of faint mumbling and chanting coming from its top.

“Venatori” Dorian hissed, drawing close to Tristan. “I could recognise the spells they’re using anywhere.”

Tristan motioned them all to follow him silently along the hill’s narrow path. Hidden behind some bushes, they watched the Venatori and their guards prepare that evening’s dinner. Two Venatori mages, along with four guards, well-built and armed to the teeth.

A nod to Blackwall was all it took for the strong warrior to charge at them like a bull. Sheathing himself in shadows, Tristan followed soon after, picking the guards apart with his sharp and poisoned daggers. It was not long before two of the guards fell to the ground, without so much as a scream.

Dorian and Solas, from their posts safely away from the thick of battle, hurled spell after spell at the Venatori mages while Blackwall occupied the two remaining guards. He charged at them again and again, but his sword never seemed to find its target. The men were strong and fierce fighters, though they should have been no match for the seasoned Warden. Looking about him, Tristan realized that one of the Venatori mages was raising invisible shields about the two warriors.

Stealthily, Tristan moved behind the mage, careful not to step on any magical traps that he may have set on the ground. As if their minds were connected, Dorian immediately started attacking the mage mercilessly, drawing the man’s attention to him rather than behind him. With the Venatori busy deflecting Dorian’s spells, Tristan lunged, slashing at him with both daggers. The mage screamed in agony as his robes were seeped in blood. Tristan got ready to plunge his daggers into the mage again, when he suddenly felt a hazy mist clouding his vision.

His stomach clenched in an icy grip. The allergy potion had taken full effect, it seemed. Damn him, he should have listened to Solas!

He tried to take a step back and retreat from the Venatori, when a loud explosion flashed around him. Before he could realise what has happening, he was flung several feet away with the force of the blast. The air was knocked out of him when he crashed against the thick tree trunk that stopped his flight. His head ached horribly as he struggled to stand. He staggered, then fell back down. It was no use. Everything was spinning around him.

A gauntleted fist wound itself in his hair and forced him up. Tristan groaned in pain as his already aching head jerked backwards violently under the might of that fist. He writhed, struggling to escape the strong grasp, when he felt the bite of cold, hard steel on his throat.

“Nobody move!” a gruff voice yelled next to his ear. “Lay down your arms, or I’ll cut him!”

Blackwall, Solas and Dorian blinked in horror. They stood motionless like statues amidst the dead bodies of the Venatori sprawled around them. Solas and Dorian glanced at each other, as if pondering whether to blast the guard where he stood. Blackwall’s thick eyebrows were knit in a vicious scowl. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. Even from that distance, Tristan could hear his teeth grinding in anger.

“Let him go” the warrior growled, “and I might let you live.”

“I said, lay down your arms! And you mages don’t even think about casting.” He pressed the blade against Tristan’s skin.

Tristan’s heart beat wildly as a tiny drop of blood arced down his neck. He felt dizzy and weak. Keeping the contents of his stomach down took significant effort.

“Do as he says, Blackwall” Solas said, letting his staff drop to the ground.

With a sharp exhale that did nothing to hide his fury, Blackwall threw his sword and shield in front of him. Dorian’s mouth compressed in a tight line, his knuckles going white as he gripped his staff tightly. Reluctantly, ever so reluctantly, he lay his weapon down as well.

“We did as you asked” he hissed. “Now let the Inquisitor go.”

The man’s hold on Tristan did not weaken. He took a step back, forcing Tristan to follow. “Stay where you are” he told them, drawing away from them.

Three pairs of hawk-like eyes followed them as they moved backwards. They were barely out of view of his companions when the man took a deep breath.

“Glory to the Elder One!” he yelled, and drew his blade.

The steel felt like ice as it slashed Tristan’s skin. Hot, burning pain blinded him, and his blood flowed down his chest in a crimson stream. His knees gave way, and he sunk down to the ground as the man let go of him.

He was floating, floating in space. Thick, white clouds drifted along a peaceful sky as his lungs convulsed, gasping helplessly for air. He could hear Dorian shouting a spell, and the guard dropping down to the ground limp and motionless, but it all seemed like it was miles away.

His vision darkened, as if night had suddenly fallen. A quiet, peaceful night. He felt so tired. He only wanted to sleep.

Warm, steady hands wrapped themselves around his neck.

“Stay with me, Inquisitor” he heard Solas say, and a surge of healing magic flowed through him. Dorian’s grey eyes, peering anxiously over Solas’s shoulder, was the last thing he saw before everything faded.

*******

The song of a distant night lark roused him from his fitful slumber. Tristan blinked to help his eyes adjust to the dim light of his tent.

Dorian was sitting cross legged next to him, holding a candle over the heavy book that was open in his lap. The scent of his cologne, rather faint now, mingled with the smell of elfroot that lingered in the air.

Tristan brought his hand up to his throat. A bandage had been wrapped around his neck, clean and dry. Lifting the blanket that had been draped over him, he saw that someone had taken his armour off and dressed him in a light cotton night shirt and breeches. There was no blood anywhere. The incident with the Venatori might as well have been a dream.

Noticing him moving, Dorian let the book close and set the candle down. “You’re awake” he said, as if it were the last thing he expected to see. “Here, drink this.” Holding the back of Tristan’s head tenderly, as if it was an injured bird, he placed a cup with warm liquid on his mouth. It was dark and bitter, but Tristan drank it anyway.

“It’s prophet’s laurel tea” Dorian said, after letting Tristan’s head fall gently back on the pillow. “It will help replenish your strength.”

Tristan opened his mouth to speak, but Dorian stopped him. “Don’t strain yourself. You lost quite a bit of blood earlier. Solas was able to stop the bleeding until we were able to bring you back to the camp and treat you properly, but it was a close one. Had you lost any more blood, or had that guard’s blade gone any deeper…” He let his words trail away, looking bleakly down at his hands in his lap. It was only then that Tristan noticed how tired and haggard he looked. His eyes were red rimmed and his face looked sunken, as if he had stayed up all night. And he probably had, Tristan realised.

The expression of concern on Tristan’s face must have been evident, because Dorian flashed him a wide, reassuring smile. “Nothing to concern yourself with. Our friend was able to fix you right up. Good as new, as they say down here in the south.” He opened the leather bound book that he had been reading before. “Since you can’t talk, I could read you a little of Enchanter Ellian’s Compendium of Healing Magic. A rather dull read, I’m afraid. It will probably put you right back to sleep.”

Tristan sat up slowly on his palette. Dorian was perusing the contents of the book, talking cheerily, more to himself than to Tristan, about Enchanter Ellian’s discoveries in the field of healing. It was as if his earlier bleakness and haggardness never were.

“Are you alright?”

It was a hoarse whisper, more croak than voice. The bandage was constraining his vocal chords, and Tristan could still feel the uncomfortable pinch of his injury when he spoke. But he had to ask.

Dorian gaped at him for a moment, eyes wide in surprise. Then, he let out a quiet and bitter laugh, shaking his head. “’Am I alright’, he asks. You were the one who brushed with death, yet the first words out of your mouth are ones of concern for someone else.”

He let the book fall closed again and placed it gently by his side. “My health is alright. My pride? Not so much. I was never much good at healing, you know. No matter how much I studied, it was one of those things that always eluded me. I decided long ago that it was pointless, that I would never need it anyway, and occupied myself with other fields of study that I was actually good at. Yet today…” A long sigh escaped his lips, and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Today, all I could do was watch as Solas dragged you back from the precipice of death. I hadn’t felt so powerless in a very long time. I… I failed you.”

Tristan’s mouth tightened. He had seen Dorian face powerful beasts and demons in battle that would make any sane person’s knees buckle. He had watched him change the course of time while the world shattered around them, barely breaking a sweat. He had never seen him look so defeated as he did now.

Gently, Tristan reached out, and placed his hand on Dorian’s forearm. “You couldn’t fail me if you tried, Dorian.”

Their gazes met. The trembling light of the candle danced inside Dorian’s eyes, glimmering oddly in the half dark. A shaky smile spread across his lips.

“The things you say” he whispered. It could have been a play of the light, but Tristan thought he saw a light flush creeping up his cheeks.

The scuffing of feet outside the tent made Dorian jolt. He pulled his hand back, out of Tristan’s reach as he glanced towards the entrance of the tent. “I should let you get some more rest” he said affably, but his smile suddenly looked forced. “You’ve had a difficult day. I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”

Tristan watched him silently as he stooped and exited the tent, his book stuffed under his arm. For a long moment, he simply stared at the tent flap, stirring languidly in the wind. A distinct feeling of unease spread through him, like a slow building poison. He settled back on his pillow and shivered as he dragged the blanket over him. He wasn’t sure if it was from the cold, or from the feel of Dorian’s skin that still lingered on his fingertips.

[aj-artjunkyard]

Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series  CHAPTER ONE

“Ugh, we’re never gonna find this place!” I exclaimed, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

Meg and I had taken Piper’s plane north to seek out Camp Jupiter, the training grounds of roman demigods. The flight had gone smoothly enough, save my brief panic attack when we flew through a storm. (Can you really blame me? I had done a lot of things over the past few months that could potentially make my father mad. Excuse my wise willingness to not get burnt to a crisp.) Unfortunately, farewells to our greek demigod companions had been brief, since everyone was still caught up in the grief of Jason Grace’s untimely death. This lead to Meg and I being quite clueless as to the exact whereabouts of the roman camp. I had expected my godly instincts to kick in and tell us where to go, but as always, they only came when others were in danger. I found that most annoying. We couldn’t simply ask some random person on the street for directions as the camp was shielded from mortal eyes, keeping itself completely unknown to humans who had had no run-ins with gods. Which, I might add, is a frustrating majority.

We now found ourselves tramping through a dense forest on a steep upward slope, the heat of the sun beating down on our backs as we trotted onwards. I had been so sure that this was the right way to go, that I had bet my last packet of skittles on it. (They were a gift from Piper’s father, Tristan McLean, who had snuck Meg and me a few packets out of pity. I had gladly taken them, but I now had a feeling that our slight detour was going to cost me. Meg McCaffrey does not share.)

I angrily slapped another tree branch out of my way, only for it to snap back and smack me in the face, earning a few snickers from my demigod master, who came up from behind me and elbowed me in the ribs. 

“We’re lost.” Meg stated plainly. While her short summary had been more than obvious, I refused to admit it.

“Of course not,” I scoffed. “We’re close! We’ll be able to see the camp from higher ground. We’ll get our bearings and work from there.” Meg seemed to see straight through my lie. She uttered an unconvinced “Uh-huh”. I took a deep breath to regain my composure, and marched on.

When we finally reached the peak, we were completely exhausted. I promptly plopped down a large outcrop of rock, gasping to catch my breath. Meg followed my example (as everyone should do) and went the extra mile of lying flat on the grass, staring up at the clear sky. The top of the hill was quite a wide and level space, and the trees made a ring around the hillside about 10 meters down from the summit, meaning there was no shelter from the sweltering sun.

After several minutes of huffing and puffing, I started to notice mine and Meg’s breath even out. Then, Meg sighed deeply. “We’re lost, aren’t we?”

“No.”

“You’re the god of truth. That means you’re an awful lair.” I groaned. Sadly, there was a lot of truth in that statement. “So. Are we lost?” Meg repeated.

“Hopelessly.” I answered.

“Thought so.” She raised her arm from where she was lying on the ground and made a ‘gimme’ gesture with her hand. “Skittles.” She explained bluntly. I tossed the packet over to her, aiming to land them on her stomach, but I overshot and they landed on her face, which I was more than satisfied with. Within seconds she had emptied the bag into her mouth and was chewing furiously.

I held my face in my hands, leaning down on my knees and staring at the patterns of pebbles and soil on the earthen ground, trying to tune out the aggressive chomping and focus my thoughts on our next move. My attempts were unsuccessful. Instead, I imagined the steady beat of the crunch as a drum, and began to compose a piece of music in my head. It felt good to do something so simple, so familiar, that if I closed my eyes, I could still imagine I was sitting on the high balcony of my room on Olympus, singing my never-ending hours away.

Unslinging my ukulele, I began to noodle the beginnings of a fast-paced ditty. I had just gotten the swing of my new little jingle, my head bopping, my feet tapping, when the crunching stopped abruptly. I glanced up at where Meg was lying, and saw that she had sat up straight and tensed considerably, her hands pressed firmly against the soil as if she was ready to get up and bolt. Her eyes stared directly upwards. I was about to ask what was wrong when she called urgently, “Apollo.” I only had enough time to shoot her a quizzical look when she continued, “Look.” Typical Meg McCaffrey bluntness. I tried to follow her gaze, but all I saw in the sky was the sun. Then it occurred to me that there was something different about they sky. While still squinting up, I called over to Meg, “Is it just me, or is the sun getting bigger?”

I became uncomfortably aware of the rapidly increasing heat and brightness. I chanced another peek at the falling star, shielding my eyes with my arms. It looked lot closer that it had mere seconds ago.

Meg, who had long since gotten up, tugged desperately on my arm. “C’mon!” she yelled. “We need to go!” I had no clue where on earth we could run to, after all, if the sun hit the ground at a high enough temperature, it could easily level San Fransisco. But our options were extremely limited. So we ran.

We sped right back the way we came, both tripping and panicking. (Meg will tell you that I was the only one tripping. She is lying.) I kept taking risky glances back up at the blistering hot sun, which was now blocking a good deal more of the sky, until Meg screamed “STOP LOOKING! JUST RUN!”, which my body took as a direct command. Try as I might, I could no longer look anywhere but straight ahead. 

We reached the forest. I had hoped that the trees could provide some sort of shelter, but alas, I could only feel the sunburns manifesting on my neck and back more acutely. We forged on, panting and frantically wiping sweat from our brows. My keen hearing picked up the hissing of starting fires. Leaves on the trees all around us smoked and curled inward. I examined Meg, who had skidded to a stop in a clearing a few feet ahead of me. She was perspiring as heavily as I was, her breath ragged, her eyes darting from place to place to find anywhere that might be a safe spot. I doubted such a place existed. But, there was not much else we could do. I too, scanned the area. But to no avail.

I once again looked down at my small friend and took in the hysteric panic flashing in her eyes. It was then that something within me clicked. A familiar strength swelled up inside me. As the sun connected with the ground, I flung myself at Meg, wrapping her in my arms and trying to cover as much of her body with my own as I could. I somehow knew that I would not be harmed. I reminded myself that I had jumped directly into the fires of the previous sun god Helios, and lived to tell the tale. And this time, I had a young life to protect. Meg clung tightly to my filthy Led-Zeppelin tee as a wave of blistering dry heat surged over us, the force almost knocking me out of my current crouched position. I clamped my eyes shut, but it did almost nothing to prevent the searing sensation that burned behind my eyelids. It felt as if all the oxygen in the world had been disintegrated by the roaring flames. The dust and ash swept forcefully around us, making me cough and splutter and try to gasp in oxygen that wasn’t there.

Finally, it ended. For a long time we remained as we were, holding on to each other as if our lives depended on it. Everything was completely still. Slowly lifting my head, I blinked the dust out my eyes and squinted at my surroundings, waiting for the spots to fade from my vision. My clothes and hair were caked with ash and soot, colouring them with a thick layer of grey. My usually black Led-Zeppelin tee had been bleached a few shades by the light. A few new holes had been burned into the back of my jeans, which,  much like the slashes they had gained from enemy weaponry, did not look intentional or stylish. But I otherwise seemed unharmed, as I assumed I would be. I quickly checked Meg over. I had been mostly successful in my attempt to shield her from the fire as she also looked to be in good health, but her clothes had suffered a similar fate to mine. Her green dress was burnt at the hem, her bright leggings slathered a dull grey with ash and dust. A pungent smell of burning rubber emanated from her red high-tops. 

She had discarded her panicked expression and replaced it with one of her commanding glares. Knowing Meg McCaffrey, she could have been saying Who said you could hug me? or, more likely, This is probably your fault.

After making sure that we were both unharmed, I looked back towards the summit, where the sun had smashed into the earth. The damage was not nearly as extensive as it could have been, which surprised me, to say the least. However, destruction had still been dealt. The top of the hill had been batted down significantly, the peak now sitting a good ten metres below where it had previously rested. The forest around us had been burnt to cinders, a few fires still crackling on dismembered branches. Dark smoke curled in tendrils from a fifty foot crater left in the hill.

Without warning, Meg grabbed my wrist and started dragging me back towards the crater. Before I could splutter a protest, she declared “The sun fell. That means it was probably something to do with you.” The march back up the hill was a lot shorter that the sprint down it, as the peak had been blown to smithereens and the hill had lost a few metres of rock. Too soon, we reached the edge of the hole and Meg gestured assertively down at it. “Fix it.” 

I gulped. Edging closer to the rim of the crater, I wondered which angry sun deity I would have to avoid being obliterated by. None of us sun gods or goddesses would be particularly perky seconds after crashing our pride and joy - whether it takes the form of a super cool sports car or a kingly barque- into the filthy earth. Dents and scratches do not pick up ladies, folks. I prayed it would not be Ra, who was the ‘Zeus’ of the Egyptian pantheon. Not that he was as cruel or hard-headed as my father, in fact quite the opposite as I remember. But he did hold as much or maybe more power than Zeus, and I did not want to be on the bad side of two divine kings.

Leaning cautiously over the side of the deep pit, I tried to deduce which pantheon this sun was from without putting too much of myself in the downed god’s sight line (aka blast zone). But my eyes did not land on an Egyptian barque or a Norse chariot. Instead, I found myself glaring at a yellow school minibus with the numberplate ‘AP0110’ fixed on the back.

I felt every thought of caution and anxiousness vanish from my conscience as rage hotter than the sun’s fires filled every crevasse of my pathetic mortal being. Someone was driving my car. Some little perp had just crashed my car. I was appalled. I must have looked it too, because Meg tugged on my t-shirt from where she was hiding behind me (ugh, I was supposed to be the one hiding behind her. How selfish.) and asked “Are they bad?” I wasn’t sure whether that meant ‘are they badly hurt’ which meant she was sweetly concerned with their wellbeing, or ‘are they a bad guy I can stab’ which would be less sweet and more typical of my young master.

“That’s…” I trailed off, struggling to spit the words out through my mortification. I pointed my finger down at the minibus, urging Meg to look down at it while I tried to force out words. Finally, I managed to stutter “That-that’s mine! That’s my car!” Meg didn’t seem to share my shock. To my surprise, she snorted a laugh.

“You drive a minibus?” She said between giggles. “Are you telling me that the greek sun is a minibus?” I waved my hand at her dismissively.

“No, no. The minibus for transporting multiple passengers. I prefer Maserati Spyder mode, like any self-respecting sun deity should do.” I hastily explained, still glaring daggers down at the vehicle. 

Starting towards the smoking minibus, I decided I would give this twerp driver the benefit of the doubt, as they were likely immortal and a lot more powerful than me in my current state. I really was not in the mood for making more enemies than necessary. Unlike my old godly self, I could not go around carelessly insulting minor deities who could never dream of overpowering a major Olympian. I did, however, plan to give them a piece of my mind and a lesson in basic driving. Step 1: Don’t crash the car!

I fearlessly marched down the steep drop, careful not to trip and lose any and all dignity I had in my Lester-y prison in front of this new wanna-be sun god. I told myself that I wasn’t particularly worried. I had dealt with immortal wanna-be’s before, two in my mortal state, and while I had hated both of them with a burning passion, they had been experienced evil emperors. I reminded myself that the person trying to drive my car was most likely a rookie that had been hurriedly pushed into the driver’s seat in a sad attempt to replace moi. They’d probably love to hear some hard advice from the actual sun god.

At least, that would have been ideal. As soon as the driver managed to stumble his way out of the minibus, my confidence sank (a feeling I had grown far too used to). I stopped in my tracks as I felt my face darken and my guard shoot up. Something about the young man…was strikingly familiar. His lightning blue eyes glinted with mischief. The dark  hair that framed his pinkish face grew curly and wild. He looked to be about my mortal age of sixteen, perhaps slightly younger, but his good looks were undeniable. His baby blue jacket hung loose over his wiry arms. His casual white t-shirt was half-tucked into his baggy jeans. He looked a bit like me - mortal me - but better. More attractive. No acne. Lester 2.0, if you will. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Had this man taken this form simply to spite me? If I had any idea who it was - and I had - it would be a very plausible motive.

He spread his arms welcomingly as if he were extremely pleased to meet me, which was exactly what I hoped for, except that his eyes hid a much more mischievous intent behind his actions. His smile looked like he was stifling laughter, making his mocking actions all the more obvious. “Brother!” He said joyfully. “I was hoping I would run into you!” I looked him up and down, my mind whizzing to pinpoint exactly who this stranger was, and if I was right about my hunch. He didn’t give me time to finish my thought process (rude) before he exclaimed, “As you can see, the Olympians have entrusted me with the hottest ride in the heavens. I’d say I’m doing quite a bit better than you already!” He donned a thoughtful expression for a moment. “Maybe I should’ve gotten in on Caligula’s sun-god soup thing, huh?” He muttered.

I swallowed the all-too-many awful memories surfacing at the sound of Caligula’s name, and tried my best to look stony-faced. “Evidently,” I gestured at the wreckage, “they trusted the wrong person.” He waved his hand at me, dismissing my statement. I found that I didn’t like being at the receiving end of a god’s go-to ‘dismissive hand wave’. I much preferred giving them out. It made me feel much less small, and a little more important. 

“Oh please. I’m a great driver!” He leaned in close to me, like we were about to trade juicy secrets. “For the record, I’ve only crashed this baby once. I couldn’t count the amount of times you’ve been downed on one hand.” He straightened up. “Besides, you’re good fun! I wanted to hang out for a few.” A few months ago, I would have seen no fault in these actions. I mean really, why wouldn’t you want to hang out with me? I was an amazing major Olympian god. I was a master musician, an emotion-jerking poet and a smooth ladies man who drove a hot-red convertible Maserati Spyder. I was well worth the attention! But now, I knew this to be too good to be true. Ever since the incident at Macro’s Military Madness in South California, I’d forced myself to come to terms with the fact that if people wanted to meet me, they usually wanted me dead. Besides, I could hardly remember my own twin’s face. There was always the chance that he wasn’t who I thought I was, and I didn’t want to risk greeting a dangerous enemy as an old friend.

Sharply reminding myself of this, I fixed a tight smile on my face. If the Olympians trusted this man with a source of light and warmth that every one of their worshippers depended on to survive, then any screw-up of his was on their watch. It was none of my business. I started to cautiously edge back from the boy.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat with a fan-” the boy was obviously trying not to crack up, not helping my unease, “-but I’m afraid we must be getting on. I’m sure you’ve heard about my, ah, current predicament. I’d like my sun chariot back as soon as possible. And in one piece if you don’t mind.” I turned my back to him, trying to convince myself that I’d gotten out of immediate trouble.

Meg ruined it. You can blame her. As soon as I turned away from the man, I came face-to-face with Meg, who had snuck up behind me while I wasn’t paying attention. She looked past me and asked the man “Are you two related?” Typical. She avoids any and all conversation, except for when she knows it’s going to annoy me. I mean, come on. She knew darn well that I was related to almost everyone. On my dad’s side, anyway.

The boy stayed silent and looked at me expectantly, a stupid grin plastered on his stupid perfect face. I took a risk and went with my gut.

“Yes, Meg. This is my half-brother,” - I paused and glanced at him, his eye’s mischievous glint convincing me that I must be correct - “Hermes, the god of travel.”

“Bravo, big bro! Took ya a minute there, didn’t it?” I went for a smile, but I was hard. I didn’t know quite what to think. On one hand, I was overjoyed. My friend was here. My family was here. You may think I still despised Hermes from that time he stole fifty of my sacred cattle. Honestly. That was thousands of years ago! Besides, I’d gotten my precious lyre out of it, hadn’t I? I’d also given Hermes some of his signature items (flying sandals, his adamantine and gold sword, his freakin’ caduceus) so I considered myself a contribution to his success. Of course, some of his favourite hobbies weren’t exactly commendable, but his presence was always excitingly unpredictable. When you hung out with Hermes, you could find yourself attempting to add tabasco sauce into Ares’ protein shakes or see who could stack more objects on a sleeping Hypnos without waking him up. A night out with Hermes usually ended with a action movie worthy chase scene.

On the other hand, it was Hermes. A friend, yes, but not who I was looking for. I must have shown my disappointment. 

“Ah, don’t sweat it, dude. Artemis is looking out for you. Father saw the risky stunt her hunters pulled in Indianapolis. She charmed herself out of any real punishment, but father has a real close eye on her.”

“So did you come here to laugh or what?” I asked. 

“What?” He feigned shock, before his lips gave way to another impish grin. “Well, yeah. But not primarily. That’s just a bonus,” he winked.

“Thanks,” I grumbled. “But we really must be going. I don’t want to get blamed for anything else.” I began to usher Meg back up the slope. “You see, we got lost on the way to Camp Jupiter, and-”

“Oh! I know where Camp Jupiter is! Why don’t you hop on and I’ll drive you!” Stuck for options and really not wanting to be in my father’s domain with a god that I definitely shouldn’t be talking to, I decided to play the dirtiest card I had.

“Well obviously we would, but, ah, father may consider that against the rules. Other gods aren’t allowed to help. They’d most likely get the same sentence as me! Mortal and stuffed in a meat-sack body with no powers.”

“With acne,” Meg added.

I nodded. “With acne.”

His smile faltered. Some might say Hermes has no sense of consequence or self-preservation, but I knew that was not true. Hermes was smart. No god with half a braincell wanted to cross Zeus. He was known across the pantheons for being ruthless. You didn’t get a special pass if you were his kid. He wasn’t afraid to dish out punishments by the dozen, or chew someone out just for the sake of placing the blame (me). But despite common sense, Hermes regained his wide smile and shrugged, completely eliminating my dirty card. “Nah. He’s too busy dealing with all the prayers being sent to you right now. Something about a dumb copyright law in Europe. The teens are raging.” He winked at me. “Besides, I got my own ways of getting out of punishment. I’m quite a good talker.”

He placed one hand under the sun bus and flipped it right side up with absolutely zero effort. Meg looked unimpressed. I like her sometimes. Hermes whisked a whistle out of thin air and blew a long, shrill note.

“All aboard the Hermes Express!” He called.

“We are not calling it that.” I mumbled as I waited for Meg to skip up onto the minibus. As I approached the doors, Hermes held out his arm and blocked me. 

“That’ll be ten drachma, sir.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” 

“Sorry sir, them’s the rules.”

“You didn’t stop her!” I complained, gesturing to Meg who stood giggling at the top of the steps.

“She’s a minor. Under fifteens go free.” Breathing some ancient greek curses, I reached into my back pocket and handed my brother ten gold coins. Then I bolted up the steps before he could lay down any extra charges. 

But upon rounding the corner and facing the rows of two-seaters, I was confronted with the most horrific sight I’d ever seen. My car was akin to a pigsty. Piles of pizza boxes and duffle bags crammed with various boxes littered the back. Every seat was plastered with something as revolting as glue and monster goop mixed with Hephaestus’ sweat. Silly string of every colour dripped from the roof and decorated the backs of the seats like a band of tweens had started a riot. Even from the front of the minibus, I could see the wads of gum stuck on the seatbelts and underneath benches. Pizza dripped from the windows. Half eaten grilled cheeses stuck out from beneath the leather bench pads. I walked stiffly down the aisle. My hand gripped a seat, only for it to stick like a wasp in jam. I peeled it off, gazing in utter disgust at the odd pink substance that connected my fingers to the leather. 

“What did you do to my car?” I asked, my attempts to contain my pure rage hidden poorly by my slow, deliberate words.

“I fixed it obviously,” Hermes had the nerve to answer cheerfully. “I made it more homey.”

“Is that why it’s a minibus?” Meg asked, looking approvingly around at the mess.

“Yup! It’s too much hassle to cram all this awesome stuff into a Spyder. Kept falling out. I hit an old lady with a whole pepperoni pizza though!” he laughed as if this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard himself say. He wiped a tear from his eye. “Ah, good times.” As much as the thought amused me, I would not give Hermes the satisfaction of my wonderful smile. I managed to hide my amusement with an eye roll.

“Wouldn’t a school bus fit more stuff?”

“Don’t encourage him, Meg.”

“You,” Hermes pointed at Meg, his rascal grin stretched across his face. “I like how you think.” Meg giggled at the compliment. I figured Hermes was going to be an even worse influence than Leo Valdez had been. I didn’t relish the idea of them spending too much time together.

“Can we get going? I don’t want to see my car in this state for any longer than I have to.” I paused, wringing my hands. “And… we have a duty. To inform the romans of what happened to their friend.” Hermes’ face fell.

“Oh, yeah. The Grace boy. Dad’s not too happy about that one.” The very thought of my father’s wrath shook me to the core. But there was no denying that I had had a hand in the death of his favourite demigod son. I just hoped he wouldn’t take his anger out on a son of my own. I would have no way of stopping him. I would have much preferred to steer clear of him altogether, but here we were, about to fly directly into his domain. Yay! Meg must have sensed the thick air of discomfort, and quickly put us back on track. 

“Can we go now?”

Hermes perked up again. “Sure, kiddo! Oh, and don’t bother to buckle up. Riding the sun is much more fun when you’re floating around in zero gravity!” Meg gave me an eager smile, and her rhinestones glowed excitedly. I decided I didn’t like that. She didn’t know my brother like I did. He would have gotten a good kick out of a twelve year old breaking her neck. When we sat down, I made sure to double check that her seatbelt was fastened. With an agitated demigod glaring holes into my back, I turned to my own seatbelt. Hermes decided that was the perfect time to take off.

We rattled off the ground at full speed, Meg and I pressed flat against our seats. The wind was knocked out of me. My ribs felt like a herd of elephants had just tromped on them. Though I could not turn my head, I saw from the corner of my eye that Meg was not doing much better than me. All enthusiasm that had danced in her eyes mere seconds ago had been replaced with terror. Her face had turned the same shade of green as her famous dress. She sat awkwardly stiff, as if she had been flattened against a car windshield. I imagined I looked the same. From the front of the bus I heard a muttered “Whoops”. There was some button clicking, and the lights along the roof flickered on. This did not help our predicament.

My head was spitting with pain. I felt the air thin. The world outside got darker as we approached the exosphere. I tried to yell ‘SLAM THE BREAKS, YOU IMBECILE!’, but all I could force out was “sla-*gaSP*-m the *gaSP* br-*gaSP*”, which wasn’t much of a motivator. 

“Don’t panic guys!” Hermes called. “I’ve got it all under control!” I wasn’t even sure if that was a blatant lie or not. It was more than possible that he was driving terribly just to mess with us. I heard a few more button clicks, and the lights flickered off again. So did the engine. For a few fleeting moments, we paused. The entire world slowed to a crawl. My curly hair defied gravity and floated upwards. Hanging midair, I could almost feel what it was to fly again. Then we resumed.

The minibus tilted sickeningly. Then we dropped. My stomach however, stayed stubbornly where it was, 300, 400, 500 feet above us. My body must have been desperate to rejoin it. You see, Meg had gotten her seatbelt on in time. I had not. I zoomed up, smacked my head on the roof, then lay there, being slowly crushed by the force. I looked directly down at Meg who seemed like she wanted to scream and puke at the same time. I couldn’t relate more. I then looked up at the front, where an all-too-calm god exclaimed “Ohhh. I get it. It’s this one.” He jabbed a button with his index finger, and the engine spluttered on, sounding much too exhausted for my liking. We stopped, and I hit the floor with an audible thump. 

I tried to catch my breath while lying face down on the sticky ground. I began to pull myself up. The engine revved, and I realised my mistake. I should’ve gone for a seatbelt immediately. Cursing at myself, I scrambled for a seat, knowing it was in vain. Of course, I was right. My pathetic body was flung to the back as the bus took of at speeds to rival my father’s lightning. I was in too much shock to even feel the pain, though I was certain it would not be gone for long. For now, I would just have to cling onto the seats at the back for dear life, while trying not to scream, vomit or smash the speakers beside my head that were blasting ‘Sweet Caroline’ (another “My bad!” had sounded from the driver’s seat). I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to summon another burst of godly power. I knew that it only came out when I felt the strong need to protect. Even then, it was temperamental. I focused on Meg and how scared she was, how scared I was. But nothing happened. The only thing welling up in me was my half-digested skittles.

“Camp Jupiter ho!” Yelled Hermes. I forced myself to look up through the windshield window. Indeed, below us lay the roman demigod camp, in all its intricate splendour. Which wouldn’t be much if it was reduced to ashes. “Now, which one is the brake?”

“YOU’RE THE GOD OF TRAVEL!” I roared. “YOU KNOW WHERE THE BRAKE IS!” Hermes pretended not to hear me and continued to feign confusion, stroking his non-existent beard for added effect. Thankfully, a traffic-light coloured preteen (who had been seated a lot further from the back) had swallowed her nausea and was using all her strength to claw her way to the front. Her curved sword impaled the floor, making me flinch considerably (but I was not about to stop her) and she used the sticky wads of gum as footholds, as if she were scaling a horizontal climbing wall. Upon reaching her goal, Meg clung to Hermes’ baby blue jacket and hollered back to me. 

“WHICH ONE’S THE BRAKE?” 

“PEDAL ON THE LEFT!” I yelled back. “UNDER THE WHEEL!” I was more than happy to see her kick my tricky brother in the kneecap, then shove him out of the way so she could get to the pedal. Hermes made no attempt to stop her, or to help. After all, he was immortal. What did he care if the bus crashed? He wouldn’t get hurt. I found that reasoning disgusting, and awfully close to what I would have thought once, in a seemingly different life. The god of travel just stood there, holding onto a handle on the back of one of the seats, and keeping himself upright as casually as one might do on a train. Finally, Meg slammed her foot down on the pedal. I could feel the strain on the brakes, the engine trying desperately to slow down. It was a hard transition between halting and zooming forward at a million miles per hour. Despite her deity-kicking abilities, I could see that Meg was not strong enough. The force of the speed was pulling her back.

“HERMES! HELP HER!”

Hermes turned to me. “Sorry,” he said in mock regret. “You were right about what you said earlier. I’m not allowed to assist.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

“Nope!” He said. “But here’s an idea - how about you help her?” 

Before I could shoot another retort (preferably with some ancient greek curses), I was standing up behind Meg. Biting back confusion and nausea, I clung to the rear-view mirror and pressed down Meg’s foot which was on the brake with all my gangly sixteen-year-old might. With Lester’s track record in brute strength, I figured she wouldn’t get hurt. I looked up and saw the camp approaching alarmingly quickly. The bus was slowing, but not nearly fast enough. I estimated about thirty seconds before they all got fatally serious sunburns. I tried, once again, to summon my godly strength. I thought about the dozens of teenagers and civilians in the camp. I thought about their futures, and what they would one day accomplish. The visions flowed easily. I saw a young girl, a daughter of Mars, defeating armies of monsters in her father’s name. I saw a teenage daughter of Venus become the minor deity of self-acceptance. I saw a son of Vulcan in his thirties, happily hammering at a tractor and stopping occasionally to gaze at his beautiful wife, a dark-haired daughter of Ceres. 

Then I thought about my own demigod companion. She was so unpredictable, and so young, that she had no determined future. A beautiful stage of life. Though some could argue that you never truly leave that stage. I saw her grow up, and become one of the fiercest demigod warriors, surpassing even Percy Jackson. In a different timeline, I saw her accept eternal maidenhood in my sister’s hunt. Yet another possibility arose. This time, she sat on a golden throne with a back shaped like a harp, emitting an aura of endless youth. Next to her, sat an eighteen-year-old boy with golden hair tied back in a man-bun. He had a bow slung on his back, and a celestial bronze ukulele in his hand. They talked and laughed as if they had known each other for centuries.

I have to admit, that last one brought tears to my eyes. With renewed strength, I floored the brake. The bus screeched to a halt, and we were thrown forward. We were on the ground, right outside the entrance tunnel, where two shocked guards stood. I laughed with sheer relief. Then I looked down at Meg, who didn’t share my enthusiasm for safety. She sat on the floor, cradling her foot.

“You stood on me,” she complained. “You used your godly power on my foot.” I was too relieved to argue. I grinned as I helped her up and supported her as she limped towards the doors. But before we could leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning my head, I saw my little brother smiling at me.

“Good job, bro.” He said. “I see you’re not completely out of juice. We wanted to make sure you still had it in you. The next part of your quest will be harder than before.” I shot him an uneasy glance. 

“‘We?’” Hermes shook his head.

“Some concerned well-wishers. Can’t specify. Too dangerous.”

“Right.”

“Keep going, dude.”

“See you later, then.” I nodded. Hermes nodded back. We stepped outside, and the bus flashed, then was gone. 

“You have a weird family,” Meg grunted.

“Don’t forget,” I answered, “they’re your family too.”

We turned to the two demigod guards, who were still standing with their mouth agape. It was such a wonderful feeling to be gazed at in awe, that I let myself forget why we were here.

“Hello!” I said cheerfully. “I’m Apollo.”

[travllingbunny]

The 100 rewatch: 1x12/1x13 We Are Grounders (Part 1&Part 2)

So I’ve come to the end of my rewatch of season 1. (The season 2 opener post will come soon. I’ve already rewatched it.) Overall my opinions on the quality of the season haven’t changed much, though I did like some episodes more and some episodes less this time. It was, however, interesting to see how much foreshadowing there was of later events and how many moments later got callbacks and parallels in later seasons. 

I’ve also tried to now keep track of the timeline and body count in every episode...but I’m now starting to realize, after how confusing the numbers got in 1x11 and in these two episodes, that I’ve probably given it much more thought than the writers ever did. In the end, I had to look up The 100 wiki – but it seems just as confused as I am.

Back when I first binged the show, some 7 months ago, I was posting about it on SpoilerTV in the daily discussion threads. Sometimes I wrote just a few lines, but about this two-parter, I wrote a very detailed post - and I wish I had posted it on Tumblr, too. Maybe I’ll dig it up and post it as an annex or something.  Funny thing, before that, after 1x11, I made my list of predictions for the two-part finale, and all of them turned out to be true. I liked it anyway - predicting things isn’t always bad, it may mean that the storytelling is logical and that plot points were well foreshadowed. But it’s also one of the reasons why I didn’t find it as mind-blowing as the S2 one or S4 , or even S5 one. (But it’s certainly miles better than the S3 finale. Although that’s not saying much, since the latter was pretty anticlimactic and is one of my least favorite episodes.)

I’ve always felt that Part 1 was the stronger episode, and that hasn’t changed.

Ranking and ratings of season 1 episodes:

1x12 We Are Grounders part 1 - 10/10

1x13 We Are Grounders part 2 - 9/10

1x08 Day Trip - 9/10

1x10 I Am Become Death - 9/10

1x05 Twilight's Last Gleaming - 8.5/10

1x06 His Sister's Keeper - 8/10

1x03 Earth Kills - 8/10

1x11 The Calm - 8/10

1x04 Murphy's Law - 7/10

1x07 Contents Under Pressure - 6.5/10

1x09 Unity Day - 6/10

1x02 Earth Skills - 4.5/10

1x01 The Pilot - 4.5/10

 Season 1 overall - 7.54/10

Part 1

One of the few things I didn’t guess about this finale in advance was Ark coming down the way it did. It’s kind of funny that Kane tried to have a sacrificial redemptive death, but Jaha got there first, and had his best and most useful and most heroic moment ever… but then the show didn’t let Jaha have a redemptive death but let him live. And then he went on to make terrible mistakes and be an antagonist for at least 2 seasons, before having a morally grey (and most suited to his character) role in S4.

Every time someone tries to sacrifice themselves on The 100, they live on, and almost every time a major character has a big heroic moment, they are brought low the next season and make terrible mistakes and/or do antiheroic things. 

I like it whenever the show has a flashback of the life on the Ark or goes into the past in some other way. And it’s always nice to have another little reminder of the time when Wells used to exist for 3 episodes, which usually happens through his father’s memories or hallucinations. Here it’s Jaha watching an old video of Wells and Clarke, which helps him figure out the solution to how to bring the Ark to the ground.

And look at Jaha opening a 97 year old bottle of scotch, “The Baton” This bottle is almost a recurring character - doesn’t it also appear in the season 4 finale?

I remember that I Kane and Abby’s chemistry was so obvious in this episode, and their scenes so close and extremely friendly (what a contrast to where they started... like mother, like daughter?) that I made a comment that they seemed like they were going to start making out any moment, LOL. And I wasn’t even shipping them then, it was more like “Wait, is this going to be a thing now?” Well, I wasn’t wrong, it just took them 2 more seasons.

A few bullet points about things first mentioned in this episode: 

First appearance of Tristan, sent by Lexa, who tells Clarke “I’m the man sent to slaughter your people”. Well, at least no one can say the guy is not honest and straightforward. Also the first time we hear about the existence of “the Commander” and learn that Anya isn’t actually the leader of the Grounders. An interesting bit of trivia I’ve learned since is that the Commander was originally supposed to be a child. JRoth must be really In love with this idea, since he went back to it eventually with Madi.

First time we hear about and see the Reapers, and the scenes with them looked like something right out of a horror movie and was genuinely horrifying. Lincoln not answering Finn’s question what they are but simply saying “Pray you never find out” was, of course, a way to keep it a mystery for us a bit longer, but now we know it was really more about, pray you never get to become one, which happens with Lincoln in season 2, while Finn will unleash his inner monster in another way.

 First mention of Luna by name, though Lincoln had already talked about her people to Octavia earlier in the season. I wonder how much of her role was already planned in season 1. With all the Mount Weather mentions and other things like the acid fog, Lincoln’s drawings etc., it’s clear that the main arc of the first 2 seasons was planned since the beginning, with Grounders as secondary antagonists that the 100 mostly deal with in season 1, and the Mountain Men as the main villains, who will get focused on in season 2. But I’m not sure that this was the case with any of the season 3 arcs.

Lincoln finally explains why he is helping the 100 and that it’s not just about Octavia: “What my people are doing to your people isn’t right”. The same reason why Maya and the other rebels in MW will be helping the Delinquents in season 2. In the show where people too often justify their actions by “it was for my people”, it is great to have characters who prioritize what is right. 

And god, how good it feels to hear lines like that again. Maybe JRoth and the rest of the writers should have rewatched season 1 and remember the things that actually happened in their own show? Back when they still hadn’t gotten it into their heads that the 100 were somehow the bad guys in that scenario because they were desperately trying to survive after being forced to go to the ground (sent by the Arker leadership because the Arkers were going to die in space), and that Grounders were somehow the good guys for attacking and trying to kill them all for no reason but paranoia and prejudice?

Two big things that happen to Finn: he has a reaction to having directly  killed someone for the first time (even though it was a Reaper) and then made his big love declaration to Clarke- only to be rejected, in one of my favorite moments of season 1. I’ve always found Clarke’s reactions throughout that storyline and particularly in this scene really relatable - her feelings for him haven’t gone, but she was hurt and couldn’t trust him or go there again. “You broke my heart... I’m sorry. I can’t.” I always thought that she would never give him a chance again, and that, while the feelings were still there, she was slowly starting to move on and that, in any case, he was her past rather than her future, long before he killed a bunch of people and she had to mercy kill him. Overall, while I really didn’t like Finn/Clarke or Finn/Raven as relationships, the atypical way the C/F/R love triangle was resolved (both girls reject Finn, and become friends) was one of my favorite things about S1.

Finn’s line “I should have fought for you” always struck me as odd (that’s not exactly what I’d say was the problem: he should have been honest with her and told her he had a girlfriend, or then he should have been honest with Raven and told her the truth, he shouldn’t have been playing both of them, he should have made up his mind and been honest about it rather than waiting for Raven to dump him…), and I’m not sure what exactly he meant (fought against whom? Or did he just mean, been more decisive and not let passively wait for things to happen?) but I guess it reflects Finn’s state of mind? He was always trying to play a white knight, first to Raven on the Ark, then to Clarke. And in retrospect, this may be one of the first signs that of where he ends up in S2, when he becomes violent and obsessed with the idea that he’s going to find and save Clarke. But the show has never been fully clear on how much his mental state was PTSD due to war and fighting, and how much his increasingly unhealthy obsession with Clarke.

Speaking of saving Clarke, the fact that Bellamy was able to be very rational about the fact Clarke, Finn and Monty were missing and focus on protecting the camp rather than going on a rescue mission, as opposed to the way he acted in 3x02 when he learned Clarke was in danger and immediately got dressed as an Ice Nation warrior and went on his own behind enemy lines to rescue her, says a lot about how much Bellamy’s feelings for Clarke became stronger between the end of season 1 and beginning of season 3.

This was the episode when Bellamy definitely became one of my 2 favorite characters, with how he dealt with the Murphy situation, and showed what a leader he had become. (Which Jasper also recognized, verbally and with a big hug.) If I were to dig up my SpoilerTV post I wrote back then, you���d see a lot of very embarrassing fangirling over Bellamy. ;) 

This time I was able to focus more on Murphy’s motivations and characterization, which I didn’t think that much before.  When  Murphy is trying to taunt Bellamy - after putting a noose around his neck - saying things like “You think you’re so brave”, “You think you’re stronger than me” – I’m pretty sure that’s what Murphy thinks, deep inside. He has a deep inferiority complex. Which is exactly why he wanted revenge on Bellamy in such a way, hoping to see him afraid and brought low. He used to defer to Bellamy in the early days at the ground, so when Bellamy threw him to the wolves, then later tried to kill him in rage, exiled him and showed multiple times how little he respected him or cared for him (compared to, say, a little girl), that must have brought on a lot of resentment. But the whole “I know the truth, you’re a coward” thing would work better if it wasn’t in a situation where Bellamy was risking his life to save Jasper and actually being just as awesome as Murphy was trying to prove he wasn’t, so the whole revenge attempt was a huge, pathetic failure by Murphy. And Murphy going on about how he’s maybe now going to become the leader of the 100 after both “the princess” and “the king” die, now seems less like a villain’s threat, and more like empty bragging that he probably didn’t even believe in himself. He knows he’s not a leader type and he’s much better at making people hate him than follow him.

The speech Bellamy gives at the camp is impassioned and emotion-driven and gets the Delinquents full of passion to stay and fight – for a moment, until Clarke gives her short speech where she simply points out that they’re likely to die if they stay and convinces them to leave. This is a good example why and how the idea of Bellamy as “the Heart” and Clarke as “the Head” makes sense: it’s not that he is all emotion and can’t think rationally or that she’s emotionless – both of these things are obviously untrue – or that he’s always acting on emotion or that she’s always making her decisions rationally (there are plenty of examples of either of them doing the opposite), but it’s how they tend to approach leadership and decision-making and the arguments they used to appeal to people: his tend to be emotional, hers practical.

Part 2

 …And Clarke points that out to Bellamy when she convinces him to go with the others rather than stay on his own to fight, in one of her many pep talks to Bellamy about what a great leader he is. “You inspire them”. (She’ll tell him the same in the S4 finale.)

The Blake siblings scene was beautiful and emotional and one of my favorite scenes in season 1. But now, after that relationship got a lot more dysfunctional in the following seasons, I can’t help but notice that, while Bellamy takes back his statement from 1x06 that his life ended when Octavia was born, saying it was the opposite, Octavia never really took back her accusations that Bellamy was at fault for their mother dying and pretty much everything. (In the following seasons, Octavia will keep the tradition of always blaming Bellamy for everything ever. She does, however, tell him“I love you, big brother”.  I believe she says that two more times, in the S4 finale and the S5 finale. But in the latter, it understandably doesn’t get quite the same response.

And here we go again, Murphy is once more captured and tortured by the Grounders… how many times does Murphy get tortured or has other bad things happen to him during seasons 1-3?

Fans who like Finn more than I do have argued that he jumped in and saved Bellamy during the battle because they are comrades. But since he was earlier willing to let Bellamy stay behind and probably be killed, I think the main reason Finn did it was because Clarke was showing concern for Bellamy and upset about him potentially dying.

 My main problem with Part 2 was always the scene where Clarke has to pull the lever and close the dropship door, before Jasper incinerates everyone outside. Or rather specifically, the scene where she and Finn stare at each other for a couple of seconds during battle, with dramatic music and all, which was weird because he was pretty close by and it looked like she could have yelled at him to get inside, and he could have come inside, so I was never sure if the scene was just badly done, or if it was supposed to be deeply meaningful (Finn starting to lose it and desperate to prove himself as her hero? A reaction to her rejection? PTSD? All of that at once?) but it didn’t quite work because she looked frozen and emotional, but he was just kind of blankly staring at her… And I’m afraid I still don’t have no idea what the scene was supposed to be.

In any case, the entire thing with Clarke’s dramatic and heartbreaking choice to close to door on Finn and Bellamy to save the others should have felt more epic and had more weight, but it kind of does not. It happens quickly, and then there’s more focus on whether the Delinquent crowd will act inhumane and lynch a vastly outnumbered Anya. And, of course, there’s also the fact that I’m pretty sure no one in the audience ever thought Finn or Bellamy were actually dead. But at least the scene where Clarke goes outside and stares at two charred skeletons was good because you really felt what she must have been thinking.  

However, I love the parallel/contrast to this scene in the S5 finale, when Clarke keeps waiting for Bellamy to come inside the ship and doesn’t pull the lever to close the door (while Raven is hurrying her to do it, same as Miller was here).

The visual of the Ark coming down is beautiful - it looks like a ‘falling star’ - a callback to the earlier conversations about making a wish on a star.

Kane and Abby looking at the Earth together kinds of reminds me of Bellamy and Clarke watching the new planet in the S5 finale. (Except the former two at this point aren’t nearly as close to pull each other in an embrace.)

The ending with the Mountain Men is well done, but that was one of the things I predicted at the time: that the finale will mostly be about fighting Grounders, and then the Mountain Men will appear at the end, and they will be very technologically advanced. With so many mentions of them, it wasn’t hard to guess they had to be the S2 antagonists who appear at the very end of S1 in a cliffhanger - shows often do that. (I actually didn’t even make the Mount Weather connection, since I’m not from USA and had no idea what it was. But the mysterious Mountain Men had to be different from Grounders and Reapers, and the opposite of what you’d normally expect from people called ‘mountain men”. Which doesn’t mean it was not a good twist - it’s just hard to fully surprise fans like me who have watched so much TV .)

Timeline: I used to think season 1 lasted about a month, month and a half, but now it seems that it can’t be more than 3 weeks, at most. And even that’s a stretch.

We know for sure that episodes 1-6 lasted 10 days (and a week passed between 1x03 and 1x04), but events in episodes 1x06 to 1x09 were happening very fast, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of days, and ditto for episodes 1x10-1x13. The only possible times when more time could have passed was between 1x9 and 1x10.

Body count:

Part 1: 

1 Delinquent (Myles), wounded last episode and now murdered by Murphy as revenge for the lynching.

1 patient on the Ark that Abby wasn’t able to save.

1 Grounder killed off-screen by Lincoln

2 or 3 Reapers

1 or 2 unfortunate Grounders being eaten or about to be eaten by the Reapers.

Part 2: Lots of people.

About 300 Trikru warriors (and some of the Reapers who had been fighting them, probably) – most of them burned in the ring of fire.

Either 31 or 29 Delinquents – first a redshirt Drew, killed by a scout before the battle, then a bunch of them in battle with the Trikru (or maybe burned). This is where it gets confusing. At the start of Part 2, Bellamy feels he’s failed and says there have been 18 dead, and Clarke tries to comfort him, saying 82 are still alive. But only 16 Delinquents were killed before 1x13. So, either 1) two more died of that illness or were killed by the Grounders off-screen, or 2) he was assuming Monty and Murphy were dead or would soon be dead. And in season 3, Bellamy tells Kane “Trikru killed 37 of my friends before you even touched the ground”. Out of the 16 Delinquents who definitely died in the first 12 episodes, 6 were killed by Grounders (3 directly, 3 by bio warfare/illness). That would mean either 2 more + Drew + 29 in battle, or Drew + 31 in battle.  In any case, in season 2, 48 were captured in Mount Weather, while 6 survived outside of it (Octavia, Murphy, Finn, Monroe, Sterling, and one boy killed by Tristan in 2x01) – which would make 54, plus Bellamy and Raven.

A bunch of people died in the landing of the Ark, but there’s no info how many. In 1x07 they said there were 2,237 people on the Ark. (Which means that, before they sent the 100 to the ground and Raven took the escape pod, there were at least 2339.)  In 1x11, Kane said there were about 1,000 survivors on the Ark. But he also said 1,500 died in the shutdown of the Ark, which definitely doesn’t add up, as it would mean there were about 2,500 people before that, and that’s without the few hundred that died with Diana on the Exodus ship (which Kane may or may not counted?). Either Kane is terrible at math, or the writers got things mixed up. Anyway, let’s say that 1,000 survived, that means about 1,200 died either on Exodus or due to the shutdown on the Ark. But some of the 12 stations probably exploded before touching the ground, so a few hundred more Arkers probably died.

[zayadriancas]

So I've decided to make a post about Gracevas and how, even before they got close, Grace clearly felt something for Zoe and as they got closer, Grace DID fall in love with Zoe but the writers didn't wanna go there because they suck,

In season 13, before Grace and Zoe even met, Grace was the leading force behind finding out who assaulted Zoe. She hacked into the video footage from the party, and she's the one who came up with the idea of how to find the guys who did it. Girl didn't even know Zoe and aside from Becky, she cared more than pretty much everyone, including Zoe's own supposed best friend(s). (Frankie and Tristan. I know he cared but he wasn't really there for Zoe in that episode aside from the end.)

Speaking of Becky (this is getting off topic a bit sorry but I wanna say this) It still bothers me how after Becky and Zoe formed a bond in season 13 after Becky helped Zoe, she literally excludes her from the team due to her assault, something that not only WASN'T Zoe's fault obviously but that she obviously wanted to forget, and I know things were hard for Becky because her brother turned out to be the assaulter and her family was mad at her for turning him in but she had no right to exclude Zoe from the squad due to something like that. I'm mad that Zoe became a power trip mega bitch when she became captain but Becky deserved the karma she got when she fell off the pyramid and Zoe took her place. I love Becky but she honestly should have heard herself when she was explaining to Zoe why she couldn't be on the team. Becky was always preaching about doing the right thing but in this case Becky was doing the wrong thing and didn't even feel remorse.

 Anyway back to Gracevas, in season 14, even though Degrassi Nudes was ridiculous and never should have happened, Grace agreed to help her, even though back then Grace was still the tough no nonsense type of person. I know she only agreed to do it if she was paid but you can tell she had a soft spot for Zoe, and you can also tell back then that Zoe viewed Grace differently than everyone else that she interacted with. When Maya called Zoe a bitch Zoe literally attacked her, but when Grace did, Zoe actually took her words into consideration and tried to be nicer to her team (excluding Frankie). Back to Grace though, when Zoe asked her to take the page down, even though it never should have been made in the first place, Grace was reluctant because they were making a lot of money but she did it anyway and made it a point to say "this is the nicest thing I've ever done for anyone" (the context was ridiculous because it was literally about underage girls nudes but whatever)

In the movie, we see Grace being more intimate with Zoe than she's ever been with anyone even though they had just started hanging out that summer. She brings out a side of Zoe we hadn't seen yet. We see Zoe happy, we see her realizing how smart she really is because Grace helped her realize it. Zoe's own best friend mocks her wanting to hang out with the science group and isn't happy for her realizing her full potential. And I know the reason Tristan was suspicious of the science teacher was because of his experience with Yates, it also seemed like he believed that someone couldn't recognize and like/appreciate Zoe for her brains/intelligence. But Grace recognized and supported it. Grace said things to her like "I could never last the whole summer without you" which she never would have said to anyone else. She was extremely hurt when she thought Zoe chose Miles over her and when she thought Zoe was using her to get a threesome for Miles. Later we learn that Grace has always been abandoned when someone better came along and because of her illness. Even though she didn't straight up tell Zoe about her illness (Graces mom told her), she still trusted Zoe enough to take her home and didn't forbade her mom from telling her, She clearly trusted Zoe enough to tell her about something she hid from pretty much everyone (when I say pretty much I mean people from her past because Zoe was the first person Grace told at Degrassi). Grace didn't even think of telling other people she was close to, like Maya, Zig, etc until after her and Zoe stopped hanging out. And even though Grace and Zoe weren't friends in NC season 2, Zoe still didn't tell her secret to anyone but made sure she was taken to the hospital. But anyway, it's pretty clear these two would do anything for each other. Grace literally broke into that actor's trailer for her. I'm still convinced the only reason Grace pushed Zoe away aside from the writers being idiots is because she didn't want to be another person that left Zoe. She was convinced her illness would kill her and she knew how many people had let Zoe down and even though Grace ended up doing exactly that, she knew it would be even worse if her and Zoe started a relationship, got even closer and then she died. Honestly it's so hard to decipher this situation because it's all sorts of confusing and contrived and fucked up and either way Zoe got hurt so I don't know what Grace or the writers were thinking. But I'll never be convinced that Grace didn't have feelings for Zoe. Even after she rejected Zoe she still looked at Zoe with more admiration and love than she ever did for Zig or even Jonah. I will never understand why they didn't happen.  

[englacial]

                        There’s a bouquet of now wilted flowers thrown haphazardly in the back of his car, stray, crumpled petals strewn about the leather seats of his BMW. To any outsiders it might appear to be a carelessness for whomever the lilies-- though he’s not sure she even likes lilies (did she like lilies--? It was a quandary for another time)-- were intended for, but Tristan is actually on a mission. There were much bigger things on his agenda than delivering the flowers in a more presentable state. In fact, this wasn’t just a mission, it was a rescue mission.

                        At half past noon he’d arrived at Clara’s apartment wearing his cleanest plain white shirt, a flannel over top, and faded jeans. It was perhaps the simplest and most cliche out of the rest of his outfit options, but it distinctly read “casual but still put in the effort to not just roll out of bed for a surprise visit” and that was what he was going for. 

                        Prior he’d picked up flowers, lilies, still not sure if she even likes lilies, cleaned out his car (picnic maybe, who knows it was a surprise visit but on the off chance she ended up in the passenger seat he wanted it to be clean), and even went the extra mile to get movie tickets to some probably-should’ve-gone-straight-to-DVD horror movie showing at eight (worst case, she didn’t want to go and he pawned both tickets off to someone else because he wasn’t about to sit through bad acting and fake screams on his own, easy math).

                        However, she wasn’t there. In fact, as her roommate so dutifully informed Tristan, Clara hadn’t been home for two days, no text, no calls  ---  which would explain why his last message to her was “insects are the future of food, clara!” with no snarky, disgusted, confused, or witty reply. “I thought she was with you” is a line usually heard in true crime documentaries just before the discovery of a body is announced so the burning question as to Clara’s whereabouts was not feeling any less dire.

                        A few scrolls back through their messages and he was able to see where she’d announced a trip to some out of the way Thai restaurant (respectable, but not much to go off of), and at around a quarter until three without much luck playing detective and contacting any friends who could possibly know where she was, he got a call with possibly the worst reception he’d heard since buying a smartphone.

                        She had gotten lost. It was an obvious and typical situation for anyone venturing far from home and outside of their element, but still cause for concern. He listened intently to her about how she peddled for change, something about a sketchy guy and maybe a sock full of quarters-- he couldn’t understand the full exchange over cuts in the connection and possibly a very mean dog barking in the background-- but the main thing he was able to piece together was an address which his GPS told him was about a three and a half hour drive out of the way. Clara was out there, somewhere in Nashville with no wallet or working phone, probably exhausted and ready to be home.

                        He let her know how long it would be and tells her to wait inside until it’s close to when he’d get there (sometime around six in the afternoon wasn’t too shabby) and apprehensively hangs up just before the minutes on her payphone expire.

                        Long drives are not his favorite and it wasn’t just because he could afford to fly most days and wasn’t used to it, it was the drone of scenery, the radio channels that either cut out too much to be worth it or played God-fearing “the world is ending” type talk shows with no in between, and the anomalous bad smells that seemed to haunt certain roads for no reason in particular other than to thwart his nostrils with an onslaught of too specific memories of past road trips and the desire to purchase fifty car air fresheners. 

                        The drive, all that aside, isn’t nearly as bad as he expected. Though he may be out in the sticks, it was kind of scenic. The drive through Nashville was fine despite his dislike of driving in downtown areas, he thinks he may have even passed the Thai place Clara had mentioned. However, getting past Nashville-- at least the city part that actually mattered-- on the other hand, placed him god knows where with bad internet service, practically no phone reception, and a lot of questions as to how Clara ended up... here, of all places, and so far off course.

                        He’s pulling into the parking lot about three hours and fifteen minutes after starting on course despite picking up fast food en route  ---  he imagines she’s starving. Being just slightly ahead of schedule is thanks to a quick engine, not following the speed limit, and running a few red lights courtesy of looking at his phone more than the road. Rolling up makes him feel a little too luxurious for the outskirts of Nashville. The siding on the hotel is halfway falling apart, the railing rusted over in a ruddy brown that just screams “you’ll need a tetanus shot after sleeping here”, the stairwell is a lawsuit waiting to happen, and he doubts any of the lights work with all the broken glass littering the too small parking lot. He has to swerve around a piece of scrap metal-- who knows how it even ended up there-- to spare his tires another potential disaster. The levels of sketchiness do not improve. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his new BMW and thinks reflectively that maybe he should’ve driven the Camry, then decides that the fact that he even has multiple options just reaffirms how out of place he is. 

                         As he finally pulls up in view of Clara, he rolls the window down and offers a sympathetic smile, pushing sunglasses up to the top of his head (not that she’d expect anyone else). She looks about how he imagined she’d look after spending the night in the middle of nowhere, merely trying to get a good hookup on Thai food. “I hate to break it to you, but this one’s goin’ in the Netflix special.” He announces, a glance from her to the tree hidden horizon affirming the sun was on its way down. “You didn’t get any preventable diseases from this place, did you?”

@subtractanger​  /  closed starter insp.

[purplerakath]

What would Mola be like in NC4? (Part 2)

Part 1 was up earlier today, super easy to find, and now onto part two. The other option for how to set-up Miles and Lola happening across Next Class 4.

First a note: I didn’t have ‘Lola keeps the baby’ cause I stand by every reason that went into that plot call, so instead I’m focusing on how Triles ends as the choice point that leads here. Okay, good.

Option 2: Tris Leaves Miles

Tris leaving Miles feels odd, but it isn’t impossible. For starters Miles cheated on him (at least from one point of view, I’ve already discussed the gray area on that forever ago), on top of that Tris is extremely biphobic. Once Tris is functional enough kicking Miles to the curb out of spite could definitely happen. Putting the choice on Tris makes Miles a lot less villainous than Option 1, and changes Miles’s coming out plot.

See, now, he has all of Tris’s biphobic nonsense there, so it puts more weight on Lola to counterbalance the choice. Miles would go ‘I’m not some special snowflake who needs a special seat, see, I’m dating you, a girl.’ With Lola being the one to go, ‘yes but you check out guys just as much as I do, and you dated Tristan for forever, and those pants.’ And generally unmake some of Miles’s blinders.

Which can also lead to them talking about the abortion. As it’d be a natural point to talk about it.

Outside of that plot, Miles would have smoother sailing with his friends because he’s not the bad guy here. Zoe’d still side with Tris (and then tell Tris he’s an idiot). Miles probably wouldn’t try as hard with the Europe trip so they might shift gears for the second half of the season to Miles+Lola helping Winston with Goldi, maybe a joke about how Winston’s a good kisser. Prom stuff is there but not a whole C plot for an episode.

And the Misses

Lola’s stuff doesn’t change drastically on this build, she’d still feud with Frankie a little over Miles in the front half of the season. She’d still probably need to be cycled out of Saad’s plot for someone else (or just code it more platonic than it was in NC4), and still be there for Yael’s stuff (which would go hand in hand with Lola’s supporting Miles).

Probably some Hunter being a bastard to her because she hurt Frankie, even accidentally. There’d probably need to be a closure moment between her and Tris this time though. See, Tris breaking up with Miles was never what Lola expected. So she didn’t give herself room to want it. Which can open the door to actually looking at Tris’s biphobia even after it kinda got buried.

I’m not exactly saying Tris gives them his blessing toward 408-410, but that he owns his own part in how things went. And that he never really accepted Miles.

And Tristan?

Again, Tris’s plot doesn’t need Miles. His stuff goes the same with Maya and Zoe taking up the supportive friend slots. His reasoning to get better is to move past this/bitterness at his gay boyfriend dating a girl/wanting to walk up to get his diploma on his own two feet.

There’d probably be some Zoe questioning Tris’s choice, and Tris not owning why he did this until the end of the season? But strictly speaking Tris’s NC4 narrative doesn’t need Miles.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 27: Joey Punches Valon to Death and Seto Kaiba buys a Car.

My favorite character is back!

THE STORYBOARDER.

Like clockwork, the best storyboarder of all of Yugioh saw in the episode notes “This is the one where we shall Destroy Joey Wheeler” and he was like “Yes! this is extremely my thing!” and he’s back at it again, destroying Joey Wheeler with such finesse.

Like it’s so hard to explain in caps because you can’t see stuff move, but this animator is so good at the Yugioh vibe--he makes these character designs WORK for him (or her? No idea the identity of the mysterious storyboarder (or team of storyboarders--maybe this was one little group they freelance out to that worked really well together? I dunno) ) they really capture what Yugioh IS in a really unique way and still remain fairly economical in the animation sense. They do not hold back on any pose, and go completely ham into this ridiculous concept of a card game where you put on a special suit and punch eachother in the face.

Mind you, it’s still a card game and I skipped all that, but man...this is such a good storyboarder and I know that next episode they’ll be gone but for now I’m just gonna bask in it.

First off, Rebecca manages to figure out Seto’s 6-letter password in order to access billions of people’s personal data off of a satellite (we don’t get to find out what the password was) and although the storyboarder is great--they did make one fatal mistake.

The bane of every Californian who leaves California. LA is like a completely different country to San Fransisco but everyone only knows of two Californian cities and assumes we’re right next door to each other.

And it’s like...no, man. I don’t have Disneyland. Do I sound like a cheerful person that lives next to Disneyland? Do I say “bruh” and smile with the force of 1000 suns as we surf the coast on the backs of Lisa Frank dolphins? No dude, I have a strong Bay Area accent that makes me sound like a dry sarcastic asshole and I wear sweatshirts to the freakin beach because it’s very cold and filled with great white sharks.

(Sorry I just had to delete like 10 k words where I compared the entire cast to US cities by saying cryptic stuff like Joey Wheeler : Seto Kaiba is like LA : San Fransisco and like it was the biggest random tangent that only makes sense to me. Quarantine brain, y’all, I got SERIOUS quarantine brain. Anyone else? Anyone else just find themselves wasting like 2 hours thinking of which cities match the personalities of different characters on a show that came out so long ago? Man I need distractions right now.)

But back to what’s happening on the show, Yami is coming to terms with Joey’s struggle about as well as Yami does.

Which is mostly Yami saying “I’m pretty sure I killed Joey in that card game with Bakura in S1 and Tea had to bring him back from the graveyard so like wtv.”

(read more under the cut)

This was like 2003??? I think I keep forgetting when this season came out but we had printers at this point. We had google maps and a printer.

I don’t think I’ve touched a map like that since the 5th grade, where we had this competition to make a hypothetical road trip across America. It was Awful, and if you won the competition to get from SF to New York with the shortest distance, you would win something like pizza and a cool engraved name plate. We did not win pizza, because I could not even unfold this asshole map.

And now we have Google so like thanks, Mrs. Lambert, it was cool, but I’ll never use that information again. I hope. It was such a vivid frustrating memory that these maps still fill me with anxiety to this day, hearkening back to my 5th grade self just desperately trying to use string to measure how many miles the freeways across the midwest contain. (spoiler: a lot)

How OLD is this kid? Rebecca’s like secretly a 68 year old. She’s secretly Mrs. Lambert.

At this point we had a swell in the music as each friend of Joey joined in to announce their willingness to risk danger and save him.

Were they...not going to join him the whole time? It just seemed like a weird thing to bring up sooo after the fact.

Yami then turned to Duke and was like “but not you. You stay here” and he was like “Oh, thank gods.”

Rebecca stayed behind because the animators don’t want to draw her. Honestly, she’s incredibly helpful and they were mad stupid to leave the only smart one in the car. But youknow...this team loves being mad stupid. It makes the show more entertaining.

As they left we had a weird aside where Arthur Hawkins reflected “Rebecca is having just a REAL hard time trusting Yami” and it’s like--Arthur Hawkins! You’ve been dumping on Yami for like an entire season, that’s why. Like don’t pretend you’re all on team Pharaoh now. Why ever stop dunking?

But youknow, character development, Rebecca is going to learn the trust the ghost that possessed her crush/best friend that she’s had for 2+ years on a kid who’s been living in Japan this whole time who literally forgot who she was 2 weeks ago. You trust that ghost, Rebecca.

Or not. I mean you really don’t have to. You don’t owe Yami anything, dude. You don’t need to blindly trust idiot men, Rebecca. You just do you. Trust that instinct of “is this guy not trustworthy?” because yep. Chances are if you’re having that thought, that he’s totally not.

Storyboarder!

Storyboarder what ARE you???

STORYBOARDER!

after this followed a scene that I’ve seen gif-ed just so, so often that I assumed it was in a Yugioh Spin-off. I don’t know why I thought it wasn’t in this OG series, but I didn’t expect it to be here, in the Dartz season. But, it does make sense that this scene was under the best Storyboarder‘s direction because *chef’s kisses * it’s perfect. Every frame is a joy. The amount of sinister expressions on Mokuba, the level of sass coming off of Kaiba. It’s such a freakin shame that this man’s best work so far only lasts like a few seconds.

PS my bro looked it up and this car salesman has a wikipedia page.

He also looked up if anyone has shipped this car salesman and it’s our lucky day because this ship does not exist with any human ever in the world. Thank you, humanity. But, they DID make a wikipedia page so maybe we’re just putting off the inevitable?

I’m not even gonna cap it because I KNOW this is a gif you can easily download from everywhere but mm--this is a SOLID piece of animation. This animator is just flexing so hard, man. Yugioh did not deserve this much care and attention to detail.

Shippers rejoice, Seto Kaiba did briefly consider helping out Joey (before he absolutely drove away in the opposite direction)

(They’re clearly in the financial district already, PS. They are driving 5 ft to Dartz’ house.)

At some point Joey nabbed Valon’s card and so now he also gets to wear a bunch of stupid armor outfits.

This one is weird! It’s very Kamen rider-ish...but it’s a color scheme that feels very valentines day. It looks hard to wear. Good thing it’s animated.

I may need to capture this walk sequence though...if I still have the energy...the picture does not display his very energetic arms-in-the-air walk cycle I haven’t seen since that one Season zero episode. I dunno if it’s a reference to that, but I can’t think of any other reason why Tristan is walking like that.

This is when Mai finally shows up.

Valon lost his helmet during this fight, which lead to this:

What a good note to end on.

Anyways, I have no idea what my update schedule will look like or be, so if you’re new here and you want to start reading these from the beginning, I have a link for that:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[fumikomiyasaki]

“You need to eat something, you’ve been through a lot today.” (Tristan bringing big bun friend Fabio some food to make sure he eats ; u;)

Injured Sentences

Fabio was a bit too eager today. He found some pretty pearls and sea shells on that beach trip he was on with friends... and so he spend lots of time in the courtyard fiddling stuff. Tristan was there to accompany Carol to visit someone and noticed him often just staying in place, mainly throughout the day. As the sun set and Fabio was still there when they where about to leave, Tristan sat down next to him and offered him a box with a sandwich in it.

“You need to eat something, you’ve been through a lot today. I heard your stomach rumble from a mile.”

"Oh S-sir Tristan. Sorry to worry you... but good you are here, I have something for you."

He handed him a small pretty bracelet for his arm which had a nice shine to it.

"It pretty, thank you so much Fabio... But please don't overwork yourself for this hobby."

"It was more that it was too fun to stop making it... I want to give all those people who accepted me as their friends a bracelet to show them i care about them... I left my village and can't go back but... the people outside the village became important to me."

"Thats sweet of you... I think they will be glad."

Fabios ears twitched a bit happily at his reponse.

"Anyways I am glad you stopped by... I will do as you say and rest."

And so Fabio put the sandwich in his mouth and got up waving after Tristan and Carol.

[lettheriverflow]

An Interview with Tristan Spinski

Jaime Molina: Please introduce yourself.

Tristan Spinski: I grew up and have lived all over the place, both here in the US and a little time abroad in SE Asia, so wherever I've lived, I've always been from "somewhere else". For the last 8 years, I've lived along the Maine coast in the northeast corner of the United States.

I had an undisciplined, passive interest in photography growing up and through college. In my mid 20s I went off to graduate school at Berkeley to work on my writing with the goal of becoming a journalist. The program encouraged students to explore other forms of storytelling, and I opted to take a documentary photography course taught by Ken Light and Mimi Chakarova. That was in 2004, and was my entry point to photography and what was to be my career and a life fully immersed in photography and visual storytelling. You never end up where you expect to, at least not in my experience. Over the years I've migrated from news-driven priorities into conversations about land use and the intersections of culture, economy and the landscape. I recently wrapped up a project on gas drilling in Pennsylvania, where I partnered with a sociologist for his ethnography about a community that has a long history of tethering its economy and cultural identity to natural resource extraction. As that chapter closes, I'm embarking on two new series — one involving endangered birds, and another being a close examination of a landscape near my home.

JM: Why is it important for you to work with conservation publications/organizations?

TS: I believe in the work they do and feel a responsibility to contribute. Once I had a foundational understanding of photography and, through assignment work, had experienced a spectrum of issues and stories, I began to unpack my motivations and inspirations. I found/find it difficult to be honest with myself and to distill what I truly want to stand for with my life and work from the pressures, distractions and seductions of the media cacophony. And there are so many realities that influence my practice and path — privilege, family, where I was raised, what I read, my friends, I could go on forever.

JM:  Is there a writer or book that influence your current practice? and why?

TS: I think every author I read influences my practice. It's a mixture of elation, that I'm absorbing a book or article and actively applying it to whatever I'm working on, and also a bit of insecurity, as I assume that I don't have a strong enough constitution of self to resist being swayed. What's that cliche about bending so you don't break?

A standout that I consider a creative "North Star" would include J.A. Baker's "The Peregrine". I've been thinking about how to describe this book to you and what it means to me for more than a day now, and everything I try to convey feels blunted and clumsy. The humility of Baker traversing the English countryside to observe and understand the falcon elevates to a synthesis of science, classical literature and meditation that makes my heart ache.

Gay Talese is also a foundational influence in my own practice. It was required reading during college, and I'm grateful for it. "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" sets a standard for a fly-on-the-wall perspective, patience and character insight, as Talese was never granted an interview but rather was able to spend time in proximity to Sinatra as he went about his business and socialized. There's a great collection of Talese's writings, "Fame and Obscurity", that I would recommend.

Ryszard Kapuscinski has become enormously influential to me in the last few years — ground level observations and personal experiences in the field working as a reporter that glide seamlessly into the stratosphere of geo-political forces. I was on assignment in Madagascar a few years ago and brought a copy of "Travels With Herodotus" with me. The writer I was working with borrowed it while I was laid flat in my tent with a boiling rash and a debilitating stomach bug. He finished it, acknowledged how it made him reconsider our own situation and project, and then I read it as I began to recover and I share my gratitude for Kapuscinski's mastery of craft. I think it might have saved the project! "Another Day of Life" is also a mind blowing, in the worst, most necessary way. I think that whatever Kapuscinski book I read most recently would be my favorite of his and would say is the most personally influential.

And to further my point about how everything influences me, I read "The Overstory" by Richard Powers last spring, as COVID shut the world down. That set me on a course with my work to think critically about trees and consciousness beyond what we (humans) are capable of seeing. And when I say it influenced me, I don't say that lightly. After I finished "The Overstory", I started researching mushroom suit burial options for when I die (someday, hopefully not soon), so that I somehow become part of a tree as my own biomass is recycled back into the earth. I feel a bit self conscious as I write this. But it's true. I told my wife my wish/intention with this, which was jarring and probably something I could have led into a bit more gracefully. I told her to read the book, and then she'd understand. On my current landscape project, I'm thinking about this book every time I'm on site.

And now I'm reading "Braiding Sweetgrass" by Robin Wall Kimmerer. I don't want the book to end. It's like eating a dish and getting upset that with every bite you're closer to finishing it. To your earlier question on why it's important to me to work with conservation organizations, I'll quote Kimmerer, out of context, here: "What else can you offer the earth, which has everything? What else can you give but something of yourself?"

JM: How have you been producing work during COVID times, and how do you think it will affect your practice in the future?

TS: COVID has been both enormously disruptive, as well as clarifying. Save two or three projects, almost all of my assignment work has been COVID-related in the past year. Only one has put me in an vulnerable situation, which was early in the pandemic and wasn't intentional. I live in a sparsely-populated, rural pocket of the United States and have stayed close to home. Most assignment work has me documenting the social and economic impacts of COVID on a regional scale. And all of this has been at the request of editors at various publications, so I have no personal attachment, other than I live here and feel a commitment to my family, my neighbors, my community and my state, so I do the best job I can under the circumstances. It's necessary to communicate what's happening and I participate because it's my job, as I consider something like this to be an "all hands on deck" responsibility and it's no time to demand to be hired for passion projects.

My personal work has stalled. Completely. I just sent a year's worth of film into the lab, none of which amounts to more than random entries to my imaginary journal. This pause has made me reset, forced me to read, think, talk out ideas, and generally reconsider what I'm doing and why. I just started an examination of a nearby landscape. I wish I had found a path forward with this project earlier in the pandemic, as it's accessible and nobody is around, but I couldn't (and still can't), which is frustrating and keeps me up at night. So now I'm attempting to work my way through it. We'll see.

JM: Could you tell us why did you decide to submit that photo to LTRF?

TS: While a lot of my work is rooted in landscape, a conversation I'm interested in having revolves around the fraying relationships and growing distance between people and most other living things. In that context, this image felt appropriate.

JM:  What is your favourite bird?

TS: Ha! My favorite bird seems to change daily. I have friends who are ornithologists, and they will casually mention an insanely interesting fact about a bird that catapults that particular species to the top of my list. Or I'll read some jaw-dropping statistics and lose my mind. For instance, last autumn I got to work alongside Scott Weidensaul along the northern coast of Maine, close to where I live, as he studied migrating saw-whet owls. They are tiny and ferocious predators that fit in the palm of your hand. So I became a bit obsessed with them, and then got to reading Weidensaul's book, "Living on the Wind", about bird migrations. Early in the book he talks about Blackpoll Warblers, which use air currents to aid their transcontinental migrations from western Alaska, east across northern Canada to the Atlantic and then south to Venezuela — "an overwater trip of 2,000 miles — a passage with no rest, no refuelling, no water, during which each will have flapped its wings nearly 3 million times. 'If a Blackpoll Warbler were burning gasoline instead of its reserves of body fat, it could boast getting 720,000 miles to the gallon,' note two researchers." I had to look up images of the bird, and realize that I've seen these and never gave them a second thought. But think about how truly magnificent these little creatures are. And it's not just the spectacular that makes me love a bird. I was out walking my dogs last spring and I heard a bird chirping that sounded, to me, just like R2-D2, from Star Wars. Turned out to be a Bobolink, which also sounds like a Star Wars character. But they look like disheveled little Franciscan monks — dark bodies with a circular yellow patch of plumage on the back of their heads resembling the bald patches, which is devotional practice of tonsure. I then learned that where I walk my dogs is designated as a Bobolink breeding habitat, so it became a daily symphony of R2-D2s. And when they fly, they appear a bit slow and clumsy, almost like they've had a few beers before taking off. So maybe that's my favorite bird. I'm sure I'll read something or see something soon that turns my attention elsewhere.

JM: If you could give yourself any piece of advice right now what would it be?

TS: I'd reiterate the advice my late father, who I admire more than I can express here, gave me: Simplify.

Thank you Tristan!

___________

Tristan Spinski

Let The River Flow on Instagram

Issue 1. Available now.