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docholligay · 7 months

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Ep 7: The motherfucking wolf attack

Hello! This is about up to Episode 7 of Yellowjackets, and ONLY episode 7 of Yellowjackets. I have not seen beyond the seventh episode, at all, and know NOTHING about this show. Please do not spoil it for me. Things that are spoilery in nature, for me, include: saying things like “Just wait!!” confirming or denying anything I put forward, outside information about the cast interviews or creator statements, leading questions like “Do you think “blank moment” means anything?” etc. Remember that Y’ALL HAVE SEEN THE SHOW AND I HAVE NOT. This informs the way you talk about things relating to the show. Just be really careful is all I’m asking. Also: If there is LITERALLY any stance I could take on this show or character that would make you upset, please just fucking block the tag

If you WOULD like to discuss the show and my takes on it, the Discord is right here! I don’t go there, so it’s a great place to get every emotion out.

Please thank @sailorsunspot and @moonlight-frittata for backing this odd way of doing a liveblog, and remember my tip jar is always open

Okay, so, let’s get this huge, giant problem I have out of the way. The wolf attack. I have a MASSIVE problem with this, and much iof it is informed by my own life, and the place I live, and the political and personal stituations therein. Don’t misunderstand me, I am in fact not one of those weirdos who thinks killing an animal that kills lviestock is always a moral wrong, but wolves are continually blamed for the actual sins of coyotes and, you know what? Stray ~doggos~. We shot a lot more dogs for taking lambs than anything else.

Neither do I think media has the responsibility to only portray the most righteous, correct, and holy version of anything. I find it fucking asinine the way people complain about the portrayal of shit sometimes, believe you me. But on a personal level, I find this fucking wolf attack thing reprehensible, annoying, and that sort of city kid shit that is funny when it’s hunting but less so when this idea has led to the near-extinction of a species and there are STILL HUGE DEBATES RAGING in real, human places. I’m not saying you have to have a problem with it. There are loads of things that stick in people’s craw about how things are portrayed in fiction that I would look to you and go, “Oh, get real” about. Fair is fair.

But, for me:

There have been exactly 6 fatal wolf attacks in the last 100 years in North America: 2 of them were bit by a rabid wolf and actually died of the rabies, 1 was a toddler killed by her father’s captive wolf, 1 was killed in a captive wolf sanctuary when she went alone into a pen of unsocialized wolves, and the other 2 were a lone human with no other humans around killed by an entire pack, one of which was very likely starving. So you’ll forgive me if, having read the commentary around at least three of these, I think it’s wildly insane to show this on television to a bunch of fucking people who can’t tell the difference between an elk and a mule deer. Wolves did not kill fucking Van, wolves did not attack a group of five young women around a fire, I would give anything for this to have ended up being a fever dream because it annoys the SHIT out of me and I hate being there with a show I really enjoy.

And, please know, I understand the symbolism here. Taissa is the wolf, and Taissa destroys the things she cares about so that they won’t get in her way. Taissa burns down her own life. Taissa has been acting completely aloof and detached whenever Van mentions anything about them building a life together, while Van is already fucking married to Taissa in her head. And this isn’t me saying, “Taissa doesn’t care for Van” I don’t think that’s true I just don’t think any of these things broadly matter when it comes to the predatory pursuit, the hunt, her desire to win and find victory over things. I think THAT is what Taissa craves the most, and I think that’s why she’s fucking haunting Sammy (I think) and BITING HERSELF in the garden.

She’ll maul herself if only it means she comes out on top, it’s insane, I love it, I just wish we didn’t have to deal with this particular slice of it OR that I could rely upon people having absolutely any idea whatsoever how nature actually works.

#Doc watches Yellowjackets #Yellowjackets S1 E7

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bellamyblake · 4 years

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Bellarke dying together in battle headcanons:

Clarke has always known that the earth had prepared a grave for her from the moment she stepped out of that drop ship.

It’s like it pulled down at her, harder and stronger with every other thing she faced-the ring of fire, the mountain, the people she loved dead in her arms, a wave of radiation swallowing her whole, missing her friends, her heart for six years;

so she had been expecting this and though this time she didn’t say anything to Bellamy, he sensed it while they were preparing to go into battle;

he was tying his boots next to her and there was a feeling of dread but also deliverance in his eyes; like he knew that this wouldn’t take him anywhere either; like it’s finally going to be over;

so when they are one of the last few standing, bullets flying by, bombs exploding, the air thick with smoke and fire, she’s grateful that most of their friends had retrieved and are safe;

she only wishes he wasn’t the first one of the two of them being shot;

it hits him so fast it’s like someone shooting a tree with a canon ball;

one moment he’s standing tall, face bloody, rifles shooting from both hands and the next they hit him twice, no three times-the chest, his stomach and his left leg and he falls so fast and harsh, she can’t even take a breath;

she screams-it’s guttural and inhumane, like nothing she’s ever heard from herself before, not even when she watched her dad being floated; it’s like the pain that’s part of every atom of her being, pours out;

she starts running to him and when she gets hit it’s like someone burned a flame to her side; she honestly expected it to hurt more but back with praimfaya the pain was so intense, maybe she got used to it, had a better threshold; it’d make sense;

or maybe it was because she was so worried about him that her own pain mattered none;

she doesn’t even register the second one that burns through her back and gets stuck somewhere on her left side or the third that pierces her shoulder so hard she sees the blood splatter with the force of the bullet while she’s running to him, in all it’s ugly glory;

Finally, her feet slow down and she falls; “No, no, no” she mumbles, she’s still a few feet away from him; he’s lying on the ground struggling to breathe, his head is fallen to the side, the blood from his mouth colors the ground and he reaches his hand out to touch her, but she’s too far;

she screams when she pulls herself on her hands, the pain suddenly no longer mild and easy to carry but ripping at her insides with a fever her head once possessed;

she yells when she craws to him, literally leaving a red trail behind her until her fingers touch his, her face falls head in the dusty ground and she cries out of helplessness;

this is it-she won’t be able to make it there, she won’t get to let him hold her one last time; maybe she never deserved it-maybe that was all there was for her-pain and the ground finally welcoming her into the grave it had prepared for her so long ago; who was she to die in the arms of the boy she loved? why would she get that lucky?

she was no different than anyone else and her mistake was always thinking that she was-she’ll die right here, her lungs filling with her own blood, her bones finally resting on the cold surface;

but then his fingers wrap around her wrist and he pulls at her, tugs more like it and she manages to find the strength to look up and find him struggling to bring her way closer to his body;

he cries out too when he manages to drag her barely a feet closer to where she was but it’s enough to give her the strength to raise herself back on her hands and craw to him;

she crashes over his weak body like a wave finally coming home to the shore-surprised that she found her way, not thinking that she ever will, but nonetheless succeeding in her one last desperate endeavor before she dies and goes back sucked into the emptiness of the ocean;

“Clarke-” his voice is weak and when she looks up she finds more blood pooling in his mouth and falling off the corner, like a fountain of pain that needed desperate relief;

“Shh, I’m here.” she says back “I’m here” he tightens his grip on her and she buries her face in the crook of his neck; for a moment she wants to force her hands to move down on his chest, check the injuries but she knows better;

there will be no saving;

her only relief is that if he’s dying so is she; she’s not sure she has the strength to see him go and keep living on this cursed earth;

“I’m sorry” he whispers and she moves up to face him-his eyes are that deep warm brown that they got late in the evening by the campfire-it was always her favorite thing to look at;

her’s were a lighter blue, not that deep stormy cloud one, no, they were clear, like the water, like the summer sky filled with beautiful puffy white clouds, those dreamy ones that make you smile and wonder when you look at them-in both their hearts there was peace;

“Don’t be. I have everything I need here” she whispers and cups his bloody cheek with her hand, her thumb caressing his cheek; her eyes fall to his lips, they’re red from the blood and for a second too long she wonders if maybe she could save him, if she should be fighting harder for him, but then he notices his eyes on her lips too and she swallows hard;

“Can I?” she asks him and he smiles, so bright and beautiful and even happy despite the horrible timing;

she leans and at first it’s a slow and almost shy affair of her lips testing his, taking them in, their softness and fullness, their gentleness that she found in the touch of his fingers on her cheek, but then his hands tighten their grip on her arms, he moves his head up a bit and he’s kissing her back with so much passion and fever that she feels herself smile too;

a moment later, though, her mouth fills with death, her lips take the color of his and she senses the metallic cold grip of the ground pulling them down, reminding them there won’t be a happy ending; that this is what they get;

“I wish we had just a bit more time” he whispers when she brushes the blood from his chin away and buries her face in the crook of his neck, her hand ghosting over his pulse and willing it to stay strong just a while longer;

“Oh yeah?” she asks quietly;

“Even a day would be enough.”

“What would we do?” she asks, feeling her blood spill all over his body, mixing in with his and then soaking the ground beneath them;

good, if the earth wanted them so badly, it would have them, but it better know they’re not leaving without putting a trace of their existence before that first;

“I’d take you to the sea” he whispers, his voice growing more and more tired by the second “Like we were first supposed to. I’d drive us there with the rover, you’d talk the whole time about everything around us, the trees, the weather, the flowers, even the damn clouds in the sky. You’d be loving that world despite it doing nothing in return but hurting you because that’s who you are.” she feels her tears spill on his skin and her hand moves to grip the shirt on his chest, willing him to just keep talking;

“And then?”

“When we arrive, you’d jump off the rover and toss your clothes away while running, leaving them as crumbs for me to follow you at but I’d stay a second too long...I’d take the time to watch your body hit the waves, the smile on your face, your laughter filling the air.”

“Why?”

“To get drunk on the sound of your happiness.” he responds and his hand falls over hers;

“The water will be cold, too cold, but I’d follow you right in; I’d pick you up in my arms and watch a wave crash in your back. You’d yell, then giggle, then splash more water on my chest, get my hair wet just so you can make fun of me, knowing how much I hate it” she smiles on that, he knew her so well “Then you’d climb on my back and make me carry you around and I’ll get sick of it, toss you in the water, then pick you up bridal style and kiss your nose, your cheeks, your eyes...then your lips.”

“And after?”

“After we’d lay on the beach on a blanket; I’d put my head in your lap and doze off while you draw the horizon; then you’d tickle me to wake me up, tease me, poke my ribs, my cheeks and finally I’d get up, pin you to the ground, kiss you.”

“Only kiss?” she teases and he chuckles. More blood pools from his mouth and he coughs a moment too long; she feels his lungs struggling to come up for air while she grows more and more tired;

Maybe she’d be the first to go, maybe she won’t have to watch the life drain from his eyes?

“Oh we’ll do more than kiss, alright” he promises, voice barely there. He turns his face to hers and their foreheads touch “And in the evening?” she asks again, she needs more and more of that fantasy “You’d get cold and I’d spoon you to keep you warm; Kiss your neck, your ear, your shoulder and hold you to my chest until you’re warm enough.”

“It sounds really nice, Bell.” she tells him, feeling her eyes droop. In a moment of panic, he reaches to cup her cheek and shake her a little just to keep her here with him “I wish we had that.”

“I wish that too, princess.” he moves closer and gives her another sweet and long kiss before he pulls away “I’m...I’m a little scared.” he admits and she squeezes his hand back;

“I think we’ll be fine. I think...we’ll be okay.” she says back, not really sure how she knows this but feeling it in her heart. “What if we don’t see each other...after?”

“Impossible.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asks and he sounds like a young boy lost in the middle of a storm. She cups his cheek and this time she’s the one to initiate a kiss “Because I love you. Because...the moon doesn’t go anywhere without its stars” she says, her fingers trailing the freckles on his cheek;

He nods, as if completely convinced that she’s right and he must be because his tremors quiet down but at the same time the grip on her hand gets looser and his eyes start to droop more.

“Do you think we’ll see them?”

“Who?”

“Jasper...Monty, our friends? Our parents?”

“I hope so. I really want my dad to meet you.”

“Somehow I’m not sure about that dying thing anymore.” he jokes and she chuckles at his ability to do that even now, at his strength to joke about the end of their lives.

A shiver runs down her spine and she feels a sharp pain in her chest; So sharp, she squeezes his hand and whispers his name in a plea but when she opens her eyes she finds his face slack, his cheek in her hand too cold, he was already too far gone, just minutes away.

“Clarke-” he suddenly says in a last desperate moment of strength “I love you. You know that right? You know how much I love you? I always have.”

“I love you too, Bell...I love you so much.” something in both of them calms down, the fear escapes their eyes and they just hold each other and look at each other’s eyes until his close;

his hand gets limp in hers and she can no longer feel his breathing moving her hair;

her eyes well with tears, her vision blurs and she wants to brush at her face angrily so she could see him properly one last time but then there’s another sharp pain in her chest, her breath hitches and she feels blood in her mouth;

she dies with her lips parted, trying to say his name, to bring him back to her, for just another moment too long, but like with the day by the sea that they never get, neither does the world, the earth, grand her one last precious minute with the boy that holds her heart;

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke #bellarke fanfic #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #angst #major character death #im sorry this just came to me #AND IT MADE ME SO SAD #but i wanted to write it out #oh man im so sad #im so sorry #my headcanons #headcanons

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