Astronauts are so funny man. Here's just a couple of things I've found hilarious from this past week of space stuff:
It's probably already been spread around here enough already, but in case anyone's missed it; 7 hours after launch, commander Reid Wiseman, dealing with tech issues, uttered the generational quote "I have two Microsoft Outlooks and neither one of those are working."
After fixing the issues that were afflicting the onboard toilet, mission specialist Christina Koch (who has quickly become my favourite of the four) laughingly said “I’m the space plumber, I’m proud to call myself the space plumber.”
On Easter Sunday, the Artemis II crew hosted a makeshift egg hunt, by hiding packets of dehydrated scrambled eggs around their Orion capsule.
The way the crew always makes sure to make it very clear they're in space when doing interviews. From stuff like Wiseman just hanging out floating sideways on screen or Koch letting her hair loose so it can freely span out flowing around her.
While in transit, the crew decided to record a parody of those bad 80s sitcom intros where everyone turns and smiles at the camera.
When the crew reached the furthest point from Earth in the mission, they jokingly clambored over each other in an effort to get to the far side of the capsule, so that they could individually claim to be the furthest person from earth.
At the same time, on the ISS which was at the time on the other side of earth, the 7 astronauts onboard had a light-hearted race to the far side of the station, making jokes about being the furthest humans from Artemis.
On the way back to earth, NASA actually managed to establish an audio call between the crews of the ISS and Artemis II (where they shared the above info), and Koch called one member of the ISS crew, Jessica Meir, her "astro-sister" as the two of them previously spacewalker together in 2019. Meir then responded I'm so happy that we are back in space together, even if we are a few miles apart" (a few here being 230,000).
While Jeremy Hansen was doing an interview, Wiseman and Koch were just in the background swatting the mission mascot (a little moon plush toy named Rise) back and forth between each other.
HELP!!! i was reading a 15k jack abbot imagine x ex!wife!reader and emery walsh performed surgery and that’s all i remember bc i never got to finish it 💔 IF YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOIT PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHO WROTE IT
”with our ai chatbot you can talk to your ocs!!” Dumbass. I’m already talking to them. In my head. “B-bbut what about your favourite charac-“ skill issue. In my head as well. get fucked.
They actually make physical media for a much larger percentage of movies than they ever did in the past. Often with a lot more care than any small release was treated in the early dvd days. Its just if you only watch streaming stuff or the big new recent box office hits you won't see that. It is so ridiculously easy to get physical media for movies that even 5 years ago you couldn't even find. Like yes Netflix is a stingy bastard but so many things are available on disc WITH special features than ever before
Summary: After realising they haven't actually saved the world, the group are forced to grapple with their impending doom while surviving a city full of Ice Nation warriors out for blood. *yn* makes a deal to save her people, while also trying to save herself from falling apart.
Warnings/tags: emotional trauma from me returning after a four year hiatus?, blood, mentions and descriptions of death, angst, emotional trauma, slight mentions of alcoholism, violence, swearing
Notes: Based on 4x01 “Echoes” of The 100.
‘Privileged’ Masterlist
Clarke's lips were moving, words spilling out in hushed, urgent whispers after Bellamy had demanded an explanation.
Nuclear reactor meltdowns. Acid rain and storms. The end of the world within six months.
*yn* just knelt on the cold floor numbly, knees pressed into stone she could no longer feel. Her eyes never left Elijah's motionless body splayed out at her feet.
She was still waiting for him to move. For his chest to rise. A finger to twitch. For him to sit up and laugh at the look on her face and question how she could ever think he was dead.
"Can I check to make sure you're ok?"
She felt a hand settle on shoulder as Abby appeared in her peripheral vision.
"I'm fine."
She didn't recognise the voice that came out of her. It was flat and cold, borderline robotic.
"You nearly died." Abby gently reminded her.
*yn* finally turned to look at her at that.
"We all nearly died." She said, her gaze sharp. "And plenty of others actually did."
Abby didn't say anything. She only offered a small, resigned nod before retreating from her unsuccessful mission.
*yn* forced herself to look down at the man in front of her once more. She tried to still her trembling hands as they reached for him, fingers hovering for a moment as if she avoided it, it might delay the inevitable.
With a featherlight touch, she closed Elijah's eyes. His skin was already cool to the touch.
"Yu gonplei ste odon." She whispered, brushing a thumb over his cheek.
She rose to her feet without another word. She could feel the weight of every person's eyes on her - like they were waiting with baited breath for her to break again.
Her cheeks felt heavy with tear stains still so fresh they hadn't yet dried. Her legs quivered like they might buckle again at any moment, but somehow, by some miracle she managed to make them move.
Without another look, she made a beeline for the exit, following the path Octavia had taken only minutes earlier.
A hand firmly grasped Bellamy's arm as he moved to follow her. "Let her go." Clarke said quietly. "You know if you push her too quickly she'll push you back out even harder."
Bellamy didn't answer, but the way his body stilled indicated he knew that Clarke was right. She was the only person who knew *yn* just as well as he did.
He felt helpless as he watched her leave. He could feel the invisible string connecting them pulling taught with every step she took. All he could hope was that she wouldn't let it snap.
He could deal with the news of the inevitable end of the world, but losing her again?
That was something he wasn't sure his body would let him bear.
-
Getting out of the tower was a terrible idea.
The second *yn* stepped out into the blinding daylight, the stench hit her - metallic, sour, all too familiar. Death. Blood caked the ground, pooling in every crack and crevice. The wails of the grieving had started, raw and unrestrained, people walking around in a daze as they tried to understand what had just happened.
She stepped over the bodies, sliding straight into the chaos. Grounders glanced up at her as she passed, then gave her a second and then a third look.
The air shifted. Their stares hardened.
"Malak al maut."
She stopped. A woman crouched over the body of a young girl was the first to say her name. *yn* leant down, extending her hand on instinct, to offer her aid, comfort, solidarity - like she'd done a hundred times before.
"You did this." The woman spat out. "You and Wanheda."
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she slowly retracted her hand - like someone trying to avoid being bitten by a viper. Her emotionless stare did nothing to quell the low murmuring swelling around her.
From a distance, Clark and Bellamy watched her.
They could tell she was trying to maintain the perfect picture of composure, but she looked more like someone about to go into nervous shock. They knew she was dangling on the precipice again, so close to teetering off the edge a faint breeze might send her plummeting.
"She'll be ok. She always is."
"We always say that." Bellamy answered, his words coming out harsher than he'd intended. "But how much can one person take Clarke?" His voice cracked unexpectedly.
Clarke turned to him. "We'll get through this. All of us." The words felt thin, even to her.
She exhaled. "But in the meantime, we have to figure out how we're going to tell these people that they're about to die in the next six months."
"We don't." He answered immediately. "Not until we know ALIE was telling you the truth."
"She was telling the truth."
Bellamy dragged a hand down his face, his eyes never leaving *yn*'s figure ahead of them. "Then we wait until we figure out a plan. We gave them back their pain, let's not add to it by telling them they're going to die in six months."
Clarke hesitated, then nodded reluctantly in agreement.
"Good." He continued. "*yn* will be on board too. Once everyone's down we go home and get to work."
Before Clarke could respond, shouts for assistance cut through the noise.
*yn* took off in an instant. Clarke and Bellamy exchanged glances.
"You get in contact with Raven." Clarke pushed the radio into Bellamy's hand. "I'll help her."
Bellamy shot *yn* one last look before relenting, leaving Clarke to chase after her.
The two Ice Nation warriors who had been calling for help slowed when they recognised *yn*. She knelt as they began to ease the body they were carrying to the ground.
The man's head lolled to the side. It was caked in blood and dirt, obscuring his features, but she recognised him in an instant.
Something stirred in her, slipping through the cracks of her hastily built walls. Fear. Just a flicker, but it pulsed through her once as his name left her lips.
"Roan."
He needed a doctor, he needed -
Abby rushed to kneel down beside her before her mouth could even begin to form the first syllable of her name. Clarke and Kane were not far behind.
"He got shot trying to help me." Clarke shook her head in disbelief. "I thought he was dead."
*yn* cradled his head as Abby pressed her fingers against his neck.
"Not yet." Abby said grimly. "But he's close."
*yn* shifted his body to the side so they could look at his back. "No exit wound." She observed.
"We need to get the bullet out. And quick, before-"
"Get away from our king."
Cold steel kissed *yn*'s skin. She tensed as the flat edge of the blade pressed against her neck, drawing a thin line. She raised her hands up as the owner of the blade pulled her up onto her feet.
"Wait please-" Clarke began. *yn* flashed her a warning glance as she took a step towards them.
"You're making a mistake. We're part of the coalition." Kane urged.
She was now eye to eye with her captor. Echo. She saw the hint of recognition in Echo's eyes as she pushed the blade deeper into her neck.
Another emotion surged past her mental barriers. But this time it was one she was happy to embrace. Rage.
"Long time no see Malak al maut." Echo mused.
Flashes of Mount Weather came back to her. The assassin. Gina. Echo's smirk as she convinced everyone to leave the bunker defenceless.
"We can save him." Abby spoke.
*yn* could see her own people swarming around them, guns raised. The sound of metal being unsheathed behind her indicated Echo had her own army at her back too.
"We have our own healers."
She began barking commands but *yn* was only able to grasp a few words here and there - something about taking Roan to where they buried their dead.
"He's not dead you idiots." She snarled.
"Echo!"
*yn* watched helplessly as Bellamy pushed his way through the throng of people, fury blazing in his eyes as they locked onto the blade at her throat.
"Bellamy don't." She tried her best to make it sound like an order and less of a plea, with little success.
She hated how it hurt to even look at him, let alone say his name.
"Let her go Echo!"
"Back off Bellamy."
Clarke and Kane held Bellamy back as he desperately tried to move towards the pair.
"Listen to me." *yn* said calmly, forcing her voice to remain steady. "We can save your king ok? Just let me go. There's been enough death today."
Echo's gaze locked onto her.
"I don't know why." She said slowly. "But Roan admired you." Her gaze shifted to Clarke. "And I saw your friend in the City of Light. I know you saved us."
The pressure vanished as the blade slid away from her neck.
Echo shoved her forward. "Consider this my thank you."
Bellamy's hands found her waist as she stumbled forward. She instinctively reached out to balance herself, glancing up at him as he held her firm. Elijah's lifeless eyes stared back.
She tried to ignore the feeling of his fingers almost desperately trying to hold onto her as she pulled herself away from him.
"Look around you." Echo gestured to the devastation around them as she addressed her people. "Skaikru did this to us. Because of them Ontari your rightful commander, is dead. This imposter stole her Flame."
"No." Kane stepped forward. "Wanheda saved us. All of us. Grounders and Skaikru."
"There wouldn't be anything to save us from if not for you."
"Azgeda has no authority here." *yn* cut in, her eyes simmering as she glared at the woman in front of her.
"We do now." Echo replied coldly. "In the name of King Roan, as rightful caretakers of the throne of the commanders, Polis is now under Azgeda rule."
"Like hell it is." A grounder that *yn* didn't recognise appeared. She was an older woman, with an air of authority *yn* knew only came with being a clan leader or an ambassador.
"Where's your war chief, girl?"
"Our war chief is dead, ambassador. As a member of the queen's guard, command of this army has fallen to me until the king awakens."
"If he awakens." The woman glanced around at her captive audience. "Until a new commander can ascend, Polis will be ruled by ambassadors of the coalition. If Azgeda wants it, they must take it by force."
The whir of metal slicing through air, and then flesh, rung out. Silence followed.
*yn* watched as a red line split cleanly across the ambassadors throat. The sound of her lifeless body crumpling to the ground rung out.
"Consider it taken." Echo snarled. Her blade splayed out at her side, dripping with crimson.
"No Skaikru leaves this city."
*yn* let out a sigh.
"Maybe we won't have to wait for the radiation to take us out."
"Any others?"
"That's the last I could find."
*yn* nodded, ushering the last of her people through the narrow opening behind the temple altar. The hidden tunnel swallowed them one by one, shadows folding around familiar faces until they disappeared completely.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Lead them home, Major. We'll be there as soon as we can." Kane answered, grasping the Major's hand in a firm shake.
*yn* nodded to convey her thanks before he disappeared into the darkness.
Her gaze lingered on her dad a beat too long, and then she saw it. The way his jaw tightened, fingers instinctively moving to touch an injury to his wrist. She wasn't the only one who noticed.
*yn* pressed herself back against a wall as Abby crossed the room, zeroing in on his injury immediately. She turned her head away as Abby took his arm, murmuring reassurances, fussing over him with a tenderness that felt almost intrusive in the middle of everything else.
Elijah's body had been left somewhere up above them. The thought lodged painfully behind her ribs. He was up there defenceless and unprotected. Was he being stepped over? Tossed onto a pile like the rest of the other dead? Lost in the sea of bodies drowning this city, never to be found again, never to be given a proper goodbye?
Her throat tightened.
The door opened, pulling her free from the spiral she was teetering on the edge of.
Indra's eyes met hers. Relief flickered across her face briefly as *yn* moved forward to meet her in the centre of the room. Indra's eyes were suddenly darting everywhere, assessing her features, taking in her sunken eyes and sallow complexion.
She barely recognised the girl who stared back.
Indra pulled her into a brief but tight embrace. *yn* let herself squeeze back, gripping onto the familiar strength like an anchor.
"Well?" *yn* heard Clarke murmur to Bellamy.
"You're not going to like it."
"When you destroyed the City of Light there were a thousand Azgeda warriors inside the city of Polis." As she spoke, Indra brushed a hand over *yn*'s cheek, her body blocking her sign of affection from everyone else in the room.
"Great timing." Octavia remarked.
"The only way to remove them, is by force."
"Then let's remove them."
"Slow down." Abby glared at Octavia. "You're talking about a war."
"Yes." Indra confirmed. "Most of the other clans will join Trikru without question, but we'll still be short."
"This is insane." Abby shook her head. "We should be leaving with the others."
"They'll just hunt us down and massacre us if we do." *yn* answered.
"How do we get the other clans to join us?" She directed her question at Indra.
"I can do it. But I need the Flame."
"No." Clarke didn't raise her voice, but her words were absolute.
"Clarke, the clans will follow whoever has the Flame-" Bellamy began.
"Azgeda won't." Clarke shot back.
"Then we fight." Octavia urged. *yn* didn't miss the blood thirsty glint in her eye.
"We don't have time for that." *yn* shook her head. "And we can't risk losing anymore people."
She locked eyes with Clarke.
Abby glanced between the two, immediately picking up on the energy between the two. "What don't we know?"
Clarke and *yn* exchanged another glance, this one laden with shared weight and dread. With a small nod of *yn*'s head, Clarke explained to the others what ALIE had told her - the nuclear reactors melting down, the radiation, the fact they all had sixth months to live.
It felt almost laughable hearing it a second time - bordering on absurd. As if the universe had grown bored and decided to pile on one final act of cruelty for good measure.
"Even if this is true, it's six months away." She said slowly as she tried to absorb the information Clarke had just delivered. "There are a thousand Azgeda warriors who want to kill us now."
"How can we be sure?" *yn* turned to her dad at that, her lips pressed firm in a straight line.
"Because I'll convince him too."
It wasn't said like it was a hope or a gamble - but as a fact. As something inevitable.
Kane studied her before darting to Bellamy's face.
Something unreadable flashed across it as he studied her.
Kane saw it. He knew there was much more to this than what was being said.
"Ok." Abby cleared her throat. "So how do we make sure Echo and her warriors don't kill us while we try and save him?"
"They won't kill us." Clarke answered, with the exact same calm confidence that *yn* had.
"How do you know?"
"Because she has a plan." *yn* cut in, observing her best friend. "Like she always does."
“Octavia’s in.”
*yn* tipped her head back, eyes tracking the length of the tower. It loomed impossibly high, its peak swallowed by cloud.
All they could do from down here was wait and hope that Clarke and Abby could save Roan in time.
Polis had grown dark, the torchlight washing everything in amber hues and shadows. The smoke from the torches curled lazily through the air.
She stole a glance at Bellamy. It felt like only yesterday that she had been admiring him by the campfire before they’d snuck away for the night. The memory burned. She wanted to grasp the yearning clawing at her chest and twist its head clean off.
“Never a dull moment huh?”
*yn*’s brow furrowed at the sight of Murphy.
“Where the hell have you been?”
She looked over his shoulder to catch movement behind him. The outline of a girl clinging to the shadows behind him, watching.
“Relax little miss privileged.”
She rolled her eyes. Whatever moment they’d shared earlier had been left in the gutter, the usual animosity back in full force.
“She’ll only talk to Bellamy.” Jaha interrupted.
*yn* scoffed, folding her arms in from of her chest.
“That tracks.”
“About time we saw that jealousy streak again." Murphy smirked. "I thought you’d lost the ability.”
If looks could kill, Murphy would be six feet under. He grinned at the familiar flare in her eyes. He would never say it out loud, but he was relieved to see the events that had just unfolded hadn’t snuffed out the rage that always bubbled just beneath the surface.
“Should we test to see if I’ve lost the ability to kick your ass?”
"Both of you, focus." Indra snapped.
Like chastised children, Murphy and *yn* shot eachother one last glare before relenting.
"Echo is dangerous." Indra turned back to Bellamy. "She's a member of the queen's guard, she's extremely loyal."
"Not to the people who saved her life." Bellamy muttered bitterly.
"Bellamy, I know how you feel about her." Kane shot *yn* an apologetic look. "But you need to keep your composure."
"Hard to do that when she nearly got my-" Bellamy cut himself off.
Grief flooded his features momentarily as he studied *yn* before he could stop it.
Sometimes when he looked at her, he could still see the bruises covering inch of her skin. He could feel the weight of her body in his arms as he the way he had to lift her into the bathtub. Mount Weather had been what had sealed their fate in some ways, the beginning of the end - when Pike learned how to weaponise Bellamy's fear of losing her, and Bellamy had started letting him.
That was what he saw and felt when he looked at Echo.
*yn* met his eyes, only briefly. He had the unnerving sense that she could hear every thought he hadn't yet said out loud.
"Offer her technology, guns, whatever you can to keep her talking." Kane said.
"Maybe not guns." *yn* murmured, lifting a brow.
"It won't get that far. Our objective is to buy time for Abby to save the king." Marcus looked at Murphy. "And if you want to help, grab a weapon. Take a post."
"Take mine." Bellamy slid his automatic from around his chest. Murphy blinked, he was surprised. And beneath that *yn* noted something else - fear.
"My my how times have changed." Murphy remarked dryly.
Bellamy glanced around the group, his eyes settling on *yn*.
"I got this." He said it to her directly, like there was no one else on this planet but her.
Murphy glanced between the pair, opting to keep his mouth shut this time as he observed their body language.
*yn* watched as Murphy's eyes darted behind him, his hands fidgeting nervously on the weapon.
"Wait." *yn* called to Murphy once the others ventured out of earshot.
She jerked her chin towards the shadows. "Go."
"If you're going to make a run for it, I'd rather you do it before you abandon your post." She explained when she saw the confusion on his face.
She hesitated for a moment but then nodded at the gun. "Keep it. You need something to protect her, god knows you won't be able to."
"How did-"
"Go." She insisted. "Before I change my mind."
Despite her hard exterior, Murphy knew that if he scraped just below the surface, he'd see the fragile shell of *yn* Kane underneath. Even now when she was trying to appear uninterested, he could see that her bottom lip was tremoring just slightly, betraying her.
He sent her one sharp nod, his grip on the gun tightening.
She didn't look back as he rushed past her, disappearing into the dark.
She inhaled sharply, squared her shoulders and followed after the others. She slid the handgun from her waistband and melted into the pillars. She settled on a spot that kept her hidden from view but provided her with a perfect range to fire if needed.
Her finger rested on the trigger as she watched Bellamy make his way out into the courtyard towards the Azgeda soldiers.
It instinctively pressed just a hair harder when Echo stepped into view.
She was too far away to hear anything, but even from this distance she could see Bellamy's shoulders tense as Echo came to a stop in front of him.
"What are the terms of your surrender?"
Bellamy gritted his teeth. It was taking every part of him not to pull out his gun and shoot her where she stood.
"We recognise Ice Nation rule." He forced out. "And you honour Lexa's coalition, including the thirteenth clan."
"No." Echo spoke, this time softer.
"We'll give you guns, show you how to use them."
Her eyes narrowed. "Trikru accepts this?"
"They're not happy about it."
"Not much they can do about that now is there." Echo's calculating gaze locked onto Indra. "Without an army."
Bellamy couldn't control his reaction, his mask slipping momentarily - just enough for Echo to switch her laser focus to him - like a lion stalking it's pray.
"You were there." The hint of surprise in her tone wounded Bellamy more than he thought it would.
He saw the way her face twisted, the way her body angled away from him slightly. She looked at him differently now, and he couldn't blame her for it.
"Is this why you and Malak al maut are not together?"
"We're not here to talk about her." Bellamy snapped.
Echo's face twisted with sick amusement. She'd found his weak spot. "You say that, but somehow it always ends up being about her. Roan's.... fascinated by her." This time, Echo was the one who couldn't subdue the bitterness poisoning her tone.
Her gaze drifted past his right shoulder, searching the shadows. *yn* would be here, she always was.
"Do you accept the terms or not?" Bellamy pushed.
"Everyone hates skaikru. We can never accept your terms."
"The alternative is war, is that really what you want?" Bellamy persisted.
"No one wants war." She shot back. "Lay down your guns, and we'll let your children live."
"I can't do that."
"I'll give you time to decide, consult with who's really in charge." Echo moved to turn around and before Bellamy could think through his decision - he lunged forward to grasp onto her arm.
"I wasn't done talking."
In a blink Echo had him shoved into the dirt, a knife gleaming in the torchlight pressed against his neck.
*yn* sprung up from from her spot in an instant, her gun aimed at Echo's head.
Echo smirked, finding her instantly. "Right on cue." Echo called out, loud enough for *yn* to hear.
"Guns on the ground or he dies." Echo demanded, shoving the blade further into his skin.
*yn* looked at Kane and Indra. She could make the shot easily, but then Bellamy would be lying within feet of a dozen raging Ice Nation warriors looking to enact revenge with no Echo to keep them in line.
She bit the inside of her cheek, knowing that they there were at an impasse. They just had to hope that Clarke and Abby had pulled through.
All she could do now was give Echo a distraction to prevent her from slaughtering them all here where they stood.
"Weapons on the ground." Kane ordered.
*yn* and the rest of her people complied, keeping her eyes locked on Echo.
"You might want to go check on your King." She drawled out as she raised her hands up in surrender.
Echo's eyes narrowed as she pulled Bellamy up onto his feet.
"Seize them." She ordered. "Malak al maut comes with us."
*yn* kept her face blank as two guards dragged her behind Echo, up into the tower.
Chaos was unfolding already when they arrived. Octavia, Clarke and Abby had been captured. There were too many bodies in the room for *yn* to find Roan's body. But judging by the state of things, they hadn't been successful.
"They were trying to kill the King." Echo declared as Bellamy and *yn* were shoved to their knees in front of her.
"No, we were trying to save him." Clarke responded desperately.
*yn* watched as Echo stalked forward, her fist tightening around the hilt of her blade.
"If you're going to kill anyone first, it should be me." *yn* spoke calmly. "Leave Wanheda for last. She's the most powerful."
"*yn*." Bellamy hissed, his eyes wide in shock.
Echo turned to look at her, letting out a dry chuckle. "If you insist."
Echo had barely lifted her blade when a deep voice rung out.
"Hod op."
The voice was deep, like it had been dragged through gravel.
All eyes fell on the King of Azgeda.
*yn*'s lips parted in surprise as she watched Roan sit up. Blood caked his exposed chest, his muscles rippled with exertion as he lifted himself up.
"My king." Echo bowed.
"Roan, help us." Clarke pleaded. "Tell them we're friends."
"You shouldn't try to stand so soon-" Abby winced as a guard shoved her harshly.
Roan coughed as he got up onto his feet. His body lunged forward as his legs nearly gave out, bracing himself on a crate before he could topple.
"Where's Ontari?" He rasped.
"Dead sire." Echo announced. "Killed by them."
Roan's eyes fixed on Clarke.
"We couldn't save her." Clarke explained. "But we did what we came here to do. Now I need you to honour your promise and protect my people."
"That was before your people shot me and killed my commander."
"We just saved your damn life." Octavia hissed.
Roan's eyes landed on *yn*. She'd been so uncharacteristically quiet that he hadn't even realised that she was here.
He studied her, like he was daring her to say something.
She simply glared back at him.
"Lock them up."
The shackles bit into her already bruised wrists, the rusted metal grinding against her skin with every small movement. The adrenaline that had carried her this far was finally burning out, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. It pressed on her chest, weighted her limbs, making her feel like she had a concrete block chained to her ankle.
“Hi.”
She swallowed and kept her eyes fixed out on the sliver of dawn visible through the barred windows.
“Hi.”
“I’ve been trying to keep my distance, to give you space.” She squeezed her eyes shut as Bellamy continued. “Because you look like you're about to break.”
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t know why you still try and lie to me after all this time.”
Her bloodshot eyes finally met his.
Both his cheeks had been split open in the fight, dried blood tracing the cuts like a fault line.
She wanted to kiss them. She wanted to add more. She wanted to press her face against his and let their tears intertwine. She wanted to never cry again. She wanted to never let him go. She wanted to never see him again.
She wanted a drink - something strong enough to make everything quiet.
"*yn*-" His voice cracked. "Let me be here for you, please."
She looked out the window again. She couldn't bear looking at him any longer.
"I can't." She whispered.
"*yn*'-"
The cell door screeched open and guards poured in.
"Malak al maut. Get up."
"Where's the king?" Clarke demanded.
Echo strolled into the cell, watching as the guards roughly grabbed her. *yn* said nothing, her body limp as they unchained her from the wall.
"Hey!" Clarke continued.
She didn't flinch as a hessian bag was yanked over her head, plunging her vision into darkness.
"Stop!" She could hear the protests of the others around her as she was shoved forward.
"Echo! Echo listen to me!" Bellamy's voice cut through it all, raw and desperate, crackling like static in her ears.
Slowly, the voices faded.
*yn* remained compliant as they dragged her through twisting corridors, each turn stealing what little sense of direction she had left.
Finally, they came to a stop. She squinted as the bag was ripped from her head, blinding her with sunlight.
"Malak al maut, as requested."
She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted. Echo was to her left. In front of her, seated on a makeshift throne, was Roan.
He was dressed this time. An intricate crown made of bleached bones and ivory was placed on his head. Flecks of blood still peppered his face, stark against his tanned skin.
"Shall I summon the war chiefs?" Echo asked in her native tongue, unable to hide the eagerness in her question.
Roan's eyes never left her. She felt a touch of fear ghost up her spine.
"No."
"Sire-"
"Get out."
*yn* glanced at Echo, a faint smirk on her lips as she watched Echo ground her teeth in frustration.
She stayed cemented to her spot as Echo and her guards dutifully obeyed and filed out of the room.
The door clanged shut, signalling the two of them were alone. *yn* suddenly felt the weight of that realisation as the silence stretched.
"The crown suits you." *yn* finally broke the silence. Her eyes flickered down to his chest. "Didn't pick you for the sash type though."
"I'm not here for jokes, Malak al maut."
He winced as he pushed himself off the throne and took a few steps towards her.
"Echo tells me I should kill you and Wanheda where you stand. Take your power. Rule over everything."
"It's not a bad plan." She acknowledged with a shrug of her shoulders.
Roan eyed her curiously. She was different. Muted, like a damper had been put over her fire.
"I'm waiting for you to tell me why I shouldn't."
"Because without us you'll be dead within six months."
His eyes narrowed. "Explain." They were standing chest to chest now.
"You remember the fire that caused the end of the world. Praimfaya? Well, it's about to happen again. A wave of radiation that will kill everything, unless we figure out how to stop it."
"Our ancestors survived Praimfaya. We can survive it too."
"You can't." *yn* shook her head. "Not without Skaikru. We might not be able to stop it, but science is our only hope."
"Well isn't that convenient?"
"Fine. Don't believe me." She shrugged.
Roan clenched his jaw, his irises gleaming in the early morning sun.
He'd summoned her here because Wanheda was too dramatic and talked too much for his liking, but also because she challenged him, offered him a chance to flex his mental sparring skills. But the Malak al maut before him was offering him none of that. And Roan didn't like it.
*yn*'s eyes involuntarily flickered to the ground, unable to maintain the intense eye contact. Her stomach churned at the sight of blood pooled under a table behind them. She could feel the blood draining from her face, her hands trembling ever so slightly at her sides as panic clawed its way up her spine.
She knew logically that it wasn't Elijah's blood, but her body didn't.
Roan followed her gaze, noting her paling complexion. He didn't say anything. *yn* didn't know if it was an act of mercy or that he simply didn't care enough to ask.
Roan turned, glancing over at her once before stalking to the floor to ceiling windows.
*yn* followed after him warily, noting that his hand was now resting on the hilt of his sword.
The din of shouts and chants from below reached them.
"Listen to them." He spoke gruffly. "If I don't kill you and Wanheda, I'll be dead in six days not six months." For the first time she saw something earnest flicker in his features.
"Your friend." He continued quietly, his gaze fixed outside. "The one who died upstairs."
The whiplash from the unexpected change in conversation nearly took her knees out from under her.
"I have his body."
"It's safe." He continued when he felt her eyes snap to his face. "I will ensure no harm comes to it."
She didn't speak. She just pushed harder against those mental barriers as best as she could, holding back the tidal wave of grief that was threatening to burst through and flood her entire body. Her crossed arms tightened around her body.
He turned to look at her then. He observed the blood and dirt that caked her face, broken up only by dried tear tracks. Her neck was ringed by differing blooms of pinks and purples. Specks of ash clung to her lashes. She was still undeniably beautiful.
He looked away before she could catch him staring.
"He'll be given a proper burial. Know that."
He was trying to give her some sort of comfort before he snuffed her life force out.
"Make sure Pike's body is dumped in the sewer while you're at it."
"Consider it done."
She exhaled and nodded.
"Ok." She turned to face him. "Kill me if you have to."
"But at least let my people go. Honour Lexa's coalition and keep Skaikru as the thirteenth clan."
"After what you did to Trikru?" He shook his head. "All of Azgeda wants Skaikru dead."
Roan's words stung. A painful reminder of the pain her people had caused, what Bellamy had caused.
"I'm sorry. I can't."
"You'd slaughter innocent women and children?" *yn* snapped, an unexpected bout of anger coursing through her body as she turned to face him.
He turned to look at her properly. She looked brighter, a flicker of the burning flame she once was. It almost made him smile.
"It's not my choice."
"Please, you always have a choice." She scoffed. "You're a fucking king for crying out loud."
Despite the circumstances, something sparked in her chest. She felt alive. And even though anger wasn't the most healthy emotion to cling to, it was the only one she had that didn't make her want to cry, but also prevented her from feeling numb.
"Then give me something else to work with." Roan growled. "Because right now, my hands are tied."
*yn* cursed under her breath, looking out the window as she racked her brain. She knew that there was one thing she could offer, but she didn't know if Clarke would ever forgive her.
But when she looked into Roan's eyes again, she knew she didn't have any other choice.
"Clarke has the chip." She said quietly. "I can convince her to give it to you."
"We were told it was lost." Roan blinked in disbelief. His eyes hardened. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just take it off Clarke and kill you where you stand."
"Because I just gave you one. You think I'd be offering this if what I was saying wasn't true?"
"I already trust you *yn*." He grunted. The sound of her real name sounded strange falling off his tongue.
"Then consider it a peace offering." She pressed. "You wanted an Ice Nation commander. With the chip, you control who ascends. There will never be a commander to rule over you unless you allow it."
Roan muttered under his breath, fixing his gaze out into Polis.
The shouts of the crowd below grew louder. His hand on the hilt of his sword tightened.
She needed something else to sweeten the deal. And something that would let her keep her distance from facing her feelings, her grief.
"I'll stay."
Her words made him look at her in surprise.
"In Polis." She continued. "I'll stay as an ambassador, a prisoner, a symbol, whatever you want."
He cocked his head, studying her.
"What better way to cement your rule then having Malak al maut at your side, singing your praises?" She implored.
He raised a brow. "Singing my praises? Is that something you're even capable of?"
"I can be pretty convincing."
The ghost of a smirk twitching up on one side of his mouth. "You never fail to surprise me, little angel."
"I know you've all come here for an execution but no one else will die here today."
Roan's authoritative voice carried effortlessly across the square, over the gathered crowd.
*yn* shifted in her seat behind him. Roan's guards formed a solid wall of bodies between them and the crowd, blocking her view, but she knew her people were there.
Roan had summoned Clarke, allowing them the dignity of speaking privately. Although she'd been reluctant to hand it over, Clarke confessed what *yn* had already known, that the chip had always been their only way out.
Roan had begrudgingly allowed her time to shower and change before summoning his audience.
She still felt dirty, like no amount of water could wash the blood away that coated her like a second skin. But at least now she looked semi-presentable, like she could stand beside a king without visibly looking like she was falling apart.
"The City of Light has fallen." Roan continued. "And there is no Commander left to rule us. Till another commander ascends, I - King Roan of Azgeda, son of Naia, Grandson of Theo - am care-taker of the throne and keeper of the flame."
Shocked whispers broke out amongst the crowd as Roan held the chip up for everyone to see.
"You're a king, not a priest!" A voice called out. "This is blasphemy!"
"Not blasphemy." Roan answered calmly in his native tongue. "Order."
Silence fell.
"Until another ascends, Azgeda honours and will defend the coalition of the last true Commander, Lexa kom Trikru. Including the thirteenth clan."
The whispers returned, louder now, uneasy.
Roan turned to her. He motioned for her to stand.
"Malak al maut, one of the most powerful warriors amongst us."
She came to stand beside him.
The sound of the crowd hit her all at once, gasps and murmurs of fury, awe, disgust. Her skin buzzed as though charged with electricity.
"As a demonstration of Skaikru's commitment to the coalition and my role as keeper of the flame, Malak al maut has pledged herself to me and agreed to serve at my side here in Polis."
Bellamy stared up at her in shock.
She had changed her clothes. Grounder leathers instead of torn fabric. Her hair pulled back sharply, face stripped of anything soft or familiar. It felt like she was looking through them, not at them.
Clarke had told them about the deal that *yn* had made with Roan to give him the chip, but judging by the look on Clarke's face - it was obvious that *yn* had left this part out.
"Let it be known, that an attack against Skaikru is an attack against us all."
The weight of the King's seal felt too heavy in Bellamy's hand.
Unable to stop himself, he glanced once more up at the tower, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
"We'll do our best to keep Roan on his throne." Kane spoke once Clarke and Bellamy reached him and Abby.
"And we'll do our best to find a way to beat the radiation." Clarke nodded.
Kane stepped forward, clasping Bellamy's forearm firmly.
"You turn the page." Kane said firmly, his hand gripping Bellamy's shoulder as Bellamy went to pull away. "You turn the page, and don't look back. You do better today then you did yesterday. You understand?"
Bellamy inclined his head.
"You'll look out for her?"
Kane smiled sympathetically. "As much as she'll let me."
Bellamy mustered up a weak smile at that and nodded in understanding.
"It's getting dark, we should get going." Clarke announced.
Bellamy went to follow after Clarke, but froze when a familiar streak of hair caught his eye.
Achingly familiar eyes met his.
The others around him fell silent, all eyes turning to *yn* as she approached the group, her steps steady and deliberate.
"I just wanted to make sure you got the seal."
Bellamy blinked, shaking himself out of his daze, before hastily pulling the cloth-wrapped seal from the inside of his jacket. *yn* didn't meet his eyes, just nodded curtly once she'd sighted it.
"I need to talk to you."
She hesitated, studying him as if committing his face to memory, then nodded.
The others around them exchanged glances.
"This'll be good." Octavia remarked dryly, rolling her eyes before wandering off.
"I'll be waiting." Clarke said to Bellamy before shooting *yn* a sad smile.
"We'll be inside." Kane added. Abby nodded in agreement.
They stood in silence. Despite only being a few feet from each other, the space between them felt insurmountable.
"Come with us." Bellamy finally said.
"I can't. Roan-"
Bellamy scoffed.
Her eyes narrowed. "It was part of the deal that Roan and I made. If I leave, I risk jeopardising the safety of our people."
"That's bullshit and you know it." Bellamy snapped.
"It's not bullshit." She hissed defensively.
"Yes it is." His jaw clenched. "You're running away."
"Maybe I am? So fucking what."
"So fucking what?" Bellamy repeated incredulously. "So fucking what is that you look like you're on the edge of a nervous breakdown and you're trying to tell me that you're fine."
"You're seriously getting angry at me?" She snarled. "After everything that's just happened?"
"I'm not angry." He corrected. "I'm-" He inhaled sharply. "I'm frustrated. I keep trying to be there for you, to help you deal with everything that you're feeling, and you're too stubborn to let me."
"Well maybe I don't want to feel anything." She shot back, her eyes glowering with defiance.
"Maybe I'm tired of carrying around all of this guilt and grief and misguided hope." Her voice lowered, as she felt exhaustion finally begin to seep through.
Bellamy let out a breath. The next time he spoke, his voice was soft.
"Don't end up like O, *yn*."
It was a plea.
"Octavia has every right to be how she is." *yn*'s voice inched higher again. "She lost the love of her life and her brother in one go."
Bellamy visibly flinched at that. "Trust me, I understand how she feels."
*yn* shook her head, finally breaking eye contact.
"What about everything you said?" Bellamy asked quietly. His voice was laced with desperation. "That I could never lose you, that I'd always had you."
She squeezed her eyes shut. She needed to get away from him before her walls crumbled completely.
"I thought we were about to die."
He took a step back from her, like she'd physically just hit him with deadly accuracy.
"So what? You're saying you didn't mean it?"
"No." She couldn't bring herself to lie to him, not about something like this.
"But I thought we had no more time. Things are different now."
"And six months is all the time in the world is it?" His eyes flared with emotion again.
"Everytime I look at you I see him." She admitted quietly. "And I see Pike, I see Lincoln, I see Cage, I see Wells." She could have kept the list going, but she couldn't bare to say any more names out loud.
"If I let myself feel anything other than anger, I'm scared that it'll knock me to the ground and I won't be able to get up again. And I can't have that, not when people still need me."
She wanted to kiss away the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. Wanted to pull him into her arms.
"So we might only have six months left to live and you're going to spend it here in Polis, pretending that you don't love me?"
His voice cracked at the same time as her heart.
"I'm sorry, Bellamy." Her voice was surprisingly steady.
Bellamy searched her face for a few moments, looking for a hint on her features that she'd change her mind, that there was hope he could hold onto.
When he detected none, he nodded, hastily wiping the tears off his cheeks. She watched as his face visibly hardened, sliding over his features like a visor.
It was a tactic she recognised instantly, because she was wearing the exact same armour.
"May we meet again then."
Bellamy moved to stick his hand out but decided last minute to keep it by his side. She was grateful that he didn't. She was too scared to know what would happen if she touched him again.
She looked up from his hand by his side, her eyes meeting his.
"May we meet again."
Part 41 - coming soon
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*Hod op = wait
This is quite literally insane of me. I know. Posting after a 4 year hiatus and TEN YEARS after I first started this series. I've honestly never felt so motivated to write for this series, I feel so refreshed and like I've fallen in love with these characters and stories all over again. If you've been with me since the beginning, thank you. If this is your first time discovering this series, welcome - you're in for a hell of a ride.
As always always always, feedback is always appreciated because I thrive off praise. Please give it back here and consider tipping me! 🤍
In 2017, American film researchers recovered “Something Good – Negro Kiss,” a short film depicting a playful kiss between a Black couple which had not seen the light of day for more than a century. A long-forgotten artifact from the earliest years of American film, the sweet, humanizing vignette, produced by the Selig Polyscope Company, makes a startling contrast to the overwhelmingly racist and blackface-ridden contempory portrayals of African Americans. Four years later in 2021, archivists in Norway, halfway across the world, identified a sister short in their collections—an extended alternate cut which reveals more of Chicago stage performers Gertie Brown and Saint Suttle’s vaudeville-like routine, a theatrical, hot-and-cold romantic dynamic between two lovers which parodies the popular and controversial short “The Kiss” (1896).
Both films, which had previously been lost, were known from entries in old motion picture catalogs but had been assumed to be era-typical, anti-Black “race films” until their rediscovery in the 21st century. Together with its more famous sibling, which has since been inducted into the Library of Congress’ National Film Registry, this alternate version of “Something Good” represents the first-known instance of Black intimacy ever captured on-screen.
SOMETHING GOOD [Alternate Version] (1898)
Directed by William Selig
It's becoming clearer that sometimes when I say "use your local library" it's taken as "use a public library" and while that is definitely something you should be doing if you can, I'm usually talking about any library that's accessible to you!! Lending libraries, online libraries, school libraries, all of these are important to use as well!! If you have access to them, use them!! "Your local library" means any library that is local to you!
