#endless bellamy

[where-the-wind-travels]

top row — amethyst grimes & euphemia labelle (ilw) ✦ middle row — moi kujaku (es) & elias bellamy (ds) ✦ bottom row — raida pearce (bb) & maya minobe (rod)

inspired by @choicesmc ♡

[mariocki]

Saw (2004)

"Congratulations. You are still alive. Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not anymore."

[lorstone]

Watching old Muse music videos and realising Matt Bellamy gives total Dream of the Endless vibes 😂

[sunburnacoustic]

Drones [song] was recorded at the back of Bob Dylan's bus. I tried to get Dom to sing the baritone* and soprano bits but he didn't fancy it.

—Matt Bellamy, on writing the self-titled closing track on the Drones album

* Given he is probably talking about the 4-part SATB harmony, he probably meant bass not baritone, but whatever

[hd-junglebook]

Neutral 8

This part may suck BUT I am slowly trying to get back into the story so skim through this and don't be mean.

You stared up at the endless blue sky, watching the clouds slowly drift by as the earth continued its endless orbit. The faint smell of burning metal filled your nose as a gentle breeze ruffled your hair. ‘I wonder if they'll ever find us down here,’ you thought, your hopes fading with each passing minute.

Around you, the search party members shouted to one another, their voices echoing off the mountainsides as they frantically pushed aside debris.

‘She can’t be dead. She hated me but she would never leave me like this. Why did I have to try to prove myself? Please come back...please,’ you silently pleaded, even as your weary body begged for rest.

Clarke mirrored your determined attitude, the dark circles on her face were more prominent in the bright sun while she meticulously scoured the debris strewn across the mountain.

Every step brought you closer to Clarke, her gaze fixed on some viscous liquid oozing from a ruptured container amidst the rubble.  

"Clarke," you called out softly, she turned to face you reluctantly meeting your gaze. "What’s wrong?" you asked, your curiosity piqued by the sight before you.

Without a word, Clarke gestured toward the oozing liquid, her expression troubled. You followed her gaze, crouching down as you took in the scene before you. The pink liquid dripping to the ground, its pungent odor assaulted your senses, causing you to recoil instinctively.

Suddenly, Clarke's voice shattered the tense silence, her cry of "Oh!" echoing through the desolate landscape.  Raven reacted swiftly, sprinting up the slope to join you both.

Her eyes were wide with concern as she assessed the situation, her sharp mind already racing to decipher the cause of Clarke's distress.

"Y/n, stop! Get away from there" Raven shouted as she reached your side. You both turned to Raven, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "Rocket fuel?" Clarke questioned.

Raven nodded grimly, her features drawn tight with concern. "Hydrazine... Highly unstable in its non-solid form. If this stuff meets fire, we're all pink mist."

“Suddenly I don’t think that would be too bad.” You started, recovering from your crouched position beside Clarke. She shot you a sideways glance. "Are you serious?" Raven huffed with disbelief as she struggled to comprehend your words.

"Watch this," Raven declared as she reached for a nearby object. “Fire in the hole!” You and Clarke ducked for cover as Raven hurled it toward the pink liquid with a swift toss, the impact causing a small explosion that sent debris flying in all directions.

The explosion was deafening, and the heat was intense, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as the rocket fuel burned away.

Bellamy's commanding voice reached your ears, “We move in formation, no straggling, weapons hot. We've got to get back before dark," he bellowed like a clarion call to action.

Without hesitation, the group began to fall in line, their movements synchronized and purposeful as they prepared to venture back into the woods. You remained rooted to the spot for a moment longer, your eyes scanning the debris-strewn landscape one final time.

As you lingered amidst the wreckage, lost in thought, you felt a presence at your side. Bellamy had come up beside you, "that means you too, Hestia," he remarked, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of affection.

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "Just taking one last look," you replied, turning to face him. His soft eyes met yours, filled with warmth.

"We'll find her," he said, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. "But not if you work yourself to exhaustion. Come on, let's head back." You nodded, allowing him to guide you away from the wreckage.

His hand dropped to the small of your back. He was right - you had been pushing yourself too hard. But you wouldn't stop looking until your mother was found.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you silently made that promise once more. Bellamy's hand pressed more firmly against you, as if he had heard your unspoken words.

…

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you pushed your way through the throng of people. The air hung heavy with the oppressive heat of the sun, the stench of sweat and dirt permeating your nostrils. Bellamy walked ahead of the group, shoulders tense and his head held high while the rest of the group trailed behind.

 As you approached the gate, the commotion grew louder, the voices rising in pitch with each step you took. The gate creaked open with a deafening squeal, and Octavia emerged, her eyes wide with fear.

She swallowed thickly before rushing forward, “Bellamy...” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

You pushed your way towards the front where Clarke and Bellamy stood, “Octavia whats wrong?” you demanded. The three of you shared a look as everyone waited for her to speak. “We found something bell. Its in the dropship.”  

With that, Octavia turned and headed back inside, guiding the three of you into the ship. The camp's stragglers dispersed around the perimeter, their voices fading into the distance. You followed closely behind Octavia as she ascended the metal ramp, the sound of her heavy footsteps echoing through the cavernous interior.

Once you reached the top, Octavia pushed back the plastic tarp covering the entrance, your breath caught in your throat at the sight that met your eyes.

John Murphy lay slumped against a wall, his once-blond hair matted with dried blood. His eyes were closed, his face covered in an excessive amount of cuts and dirt.

You and Octavia exchanged a grim look. Murphy had always been a thorn in everyone's side, but he didn't deserve this. “Everyone but Connor and Derek out... Now!" Bellamy emphasized

"We caught him trying to sneak back into camp," Connor stated, his voice low but firm, eyes narrowed as he assessed Murphy's reaction.

Murphy's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering briefly towards Bellamy before returning to Connor. "I wasn't sneaking," he retorted, his tone sharp with frustration. "I was running from the Grounders."

Bellamy, arms crossed over his chest, stepped forward, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Anyone see Grounders?" he questioned, his voice a blend of skepticism and curiosity.

Connor shook his head, his eyes darting around the cramped space of the dropship as if searching for any sign of the elusive enemy.

"Well, in that case--" Bellamy began, lifting his rifle at Murphy before you began to panic, placing yourself between Bellamy and Murphy.

Your gaze flickered nervously between the two men, uncertainty clouding your features as you struggled to find the words to intervene.

Murphy's fate hung in the balance, and though you knew his actions had been reckless and foolish, there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind urging you to spare him.

"Wait," you interjected, your hands trembled at your sides, fingers curling into fists as you searched desperately for a reason, any reason, to convince Bellamy to show mercy. Bellamy's gaze softened slightly; his expression thoughtful as he considered your words.

"We were clear what would happen if he came back," Bellamy reiterated, his tone firm, uncompromising.

You took a shaky breath, summoning all your courage as you spoke, your voice steadier now, but still laced with uncertainty. "We... we don't know the full story," you ventured, your words hesitant but earnest. "Maybe... maybe there's more to it than we realize."

Clarke's voice sliced through the tension that had settled over the group like a sharp blade. "No," she declared, Clarke stood tall, her stance resolute, her eyes locking with Bellamy's in a silent challenge. "Y/n is right."

The soft glow of the flickering firelight illuminated her features, casting a warm, golden hue across her determined expression.

Bellamy's jaw tensed, his gaze bore into hers, as he bristled at Clarke's assertion. "Like hell he is," he retorted, his tone laced with frustration. "Clarke, think about Charlotte."

You couldn't stay silent, not when the memory of Wells's death still lingered like a specter in the shadows of their minds. "We are thinking about Charlotte," you interjected, your voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with a bitter edge. "Or did you forget what she did to Wells?"

Clarke knelt down beside him, her fingers grasping Murphys hand, she flexed It back and forth. “He's not lying,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “His fingernails were torn off. They tortured him."

Bellamy hesitated, torn between his sense of duty and the gnawing doubt that tugged at his conscience. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he relented, his shoulders slumping in reluctant agreement.

"Fine," he conceded, his voice heavy with resignation. "But if this goes wrong, it's on you." His gaze flickered toward Murphy, lingering for a moment before shifting back to Clarke and you.

…

“You need to practice shooting, Y/n. After yesterday, we can’t take any more chances with these grounders,” Bellamy insisted.

“And what if I don’t want to?” you challenged, a hint of defiance in your voice.

“I wasn’t giving you a choice,” he replied back just as fast, his words leaving no room for argument. You hid your giddy smile behind your hand as you followed Bellamy and the group to the makeshift shooting practice area.

Miller and Monroe lined up the empty ration cans, preparing for the practice. Clarke strutted over to join the group, picking up a gun and readying herself for the competition.

Sensing the competitive energy in the air, you accepted the challenge without a thought.

"On the count of three, I want you guys to start," Bellamy announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. You nodded in reply, feeling the weight of the rifle against your shoulder as you lined up your shot.

“One, two... three,” Bellamy counted, and with precision, you fired at the first tin. It flew back off the log with a satisfying thud to the ground.

Swiftly, you moved on to the next target, hearing Clarke finish her second shot. You took aim at the third can, your senses heightened as adrenaline surged through your veins.

Two shots sounded in quick succession, echoing through the clearing. Both you and Clarke hit the targets with pristine accuracy. The group cheered in approval. “Who needs men when you have us?” You joked to Clarke, gaining a big smile from her for the first time today.

shouts and cries rang out from the perimeter. "Clarke! Where's Clarke?" Connor's voice, hoarse with desperation, his words punctuated by fits of coughing. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

Clarke's brow furrowed in concern as she moved towards his voice, "Connor?"

"It won't stop," Connor's voice drifted through the air, strained and ragged, each word punctuated by the gut-wrenching sound of his coughs.

"Clarke! What's happening?" Raven's voice joined the chorus of cries, her tone frantic with worry. Your breath caught in your throat as you witnessed the sight that greeted Clarke's eyes.

Horror washed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its icy grip. "Oh, my God, Clarke, your eyes," you gasped, the words tumbling from your lips in a hushed whisper.

You moved instinctively to approach her, to offer whatever comfort and support you could in the face of such a devastating revelation. But Clarke's hand shot out, a silent barrier that pushed you and Raven away with unexpected force.

Her eyes, once bright and vibrant, now held a haunted emptiness that sent a shiver down your spine. The color seemed to have drained from them, leaving behind only a dull, lifeless gaze that spoke volumes of the horrors she had witnessed.

…

Clarke's hurried footsteps echoed against the metal floor of the dropship as she entered, her senses on high alert, her eyes scanning the room with an intensity that made your heart race. You followed closely behind, the weight of worry pressing down on you like a leaden cloak.

Murphy's presence loomed in the corner of the room, his figure tense and apprehensive as he attempted to blend into the shadows, a futile effort to evade Clarke's keen gaze. The air crackled with tension as she approached him.

"Murphy, hey, look at me," Clarke's voice was soft yet firm, cutting through the silence like a knife. She reached out, her hand gently gripping his shoulder as she sought to anchor him in the midst of his mounting panic.

Murphy's gaze flickered nervously, his muscles tensing beneath her touch as he met her unwavering stare. "I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the Grounders," Clarke continued, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within her. "What happened?"

Murphy swallowed hard, shifting his weight uneasily. "I don't know," he admitted, his words coming out in a rush as if he were desperate to convince her of his innocence. "I woke up, and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there, so I took off."

Clarke's brow furrowed in confusion, a hint of skepticism creeping into her expression as she processed Murphy's explanation. The pieces of the puzzle seemed to shift and blur before her eyes, leaving her grasping at fragments of truth in a sea of uncertainty.

"Bellamy, stay back," you urged, your voice tinged with urgency as you moved to position yourself between him and the infected. Bellamy's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze flickering between you and Murphy as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "Did he do something to you?" he questioned, gripping the rifle tighter in his hands.

You shook your head. "What the hell is this?" Bellamy demanded, his tone edged with frustration as he glared at Clarke, searching for answers in the depths of her haunted gaze.

"Biological warfare," Clarke stated, wiping her hands down her face in distress. “You were waiting for the Grounders to retaliate for the bridge? This is it. Murphy is the weapon." Bellamy's eyes widened in disbelief, the realization seemed to hit him like a physical blow, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Clarke's revelation settled over the dropship like a suffocating blanket, a heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of their ragged breathing.

Suddenly, the world seemed to blur around you, the edges of your vision blurring as if obscured by a thick fog. Your senses swam in a dizzying whirlpool, the world tilting precariously on its axis as you struggled to maintain your balance.

A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, tracing a path down your flushed cheeks as the heat of the moment pressed in upon you like a tangible force. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale.

With trembling limbs, you moved away from the group, climbing the narrow ladder of the dropship's interior. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the air thin and suffocating as you ascended to the third floor. Finally reaching the top, you stumbled into the cramped space of the third floor, the dim light casting long shadows across the metal floor.

Alone at last, the tears flowing freely from your eyes as you collapsed to the floor. Your knees cracked uncomfortably beneath the weight of your body. The tears mingled with the blood that trickled from your eyes.

you let out a choked sob, the sound echoing in the empty space around you. The tears continued to fall, unchecked and unbidden, as you surrendered to the overwhelming despair that threatened to engulf you.

"Will you stop crying?" it scoffed, dripping with disdain. Your eyes snapped open, scanning the empty expanse of the room in search of the face behind the voice.

But there was nobody there, just the echo of the words hanging in the air like a ghostly whisper. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you shook your head, trying to dispel the illusion that had taken hold of your mind.

A sudden weight settled on your shoulder, causing you to gasp in surprise. A hand, firm yet comforting, pressed against your trembling form.

Slowly, you turned your head, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to face the unknown presence behind you. And there, standing before you, was Diana Sydney, your mother.

The sight of her sent a jolt of shock through your system. Her hair was no longer the blonde that you once envied, once a shimmering cascade of blonde, was now charred and matted, wisps of smoke still clinging to the strands.

And her skin, once flawless and porcelain, was marred by angry red burns accompanied by the smell of char.

“Mom.” you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out tentatively, as if afraid she would vanish into thin air at the slightest touch. For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the silence between you heavy with unspoken emotions.

The sudden sharpness of the voice shattered the fragile moment like glass, snapping you back to reality. "Do you ever shut up, y/n?"

"No," you replied. "I don't."

[bellamyblakepositivity]

Endless Bellamy Blake (158/?)

[readingforaneternity]

For all my Bellarke shippers, if you haven’t already, go read everything written by @ajrchaosrising-blog.

Everything is amazing and will make you contemplate life and the intricacies of love and will ultimately make you yearn for the kind of love Clarke and Bellamy have.

Go. Join me in this cycle of endless yearn.

[ipsiducis]

I just love that in 2024 when a new hyperfixation rears its head, there is still a place you can go and scroll endless memes, photos, gifsets, audio clips and videos without an algorithm "suggesting" content and making you look at paid adverts and clips where they will beep out Matt Bellamy saying 'cunt'.

[thetimetravellercat]

My boarding school AU is now complete! I think it's genuinely one of my favorite fics I've written. The main ship is Gentlehands (Stizzy), with platonic Bellhands (father & son), with themes such as finding your family, coming of age, first loves, and so much more.

It will break your heart at times but it will also always patch it up and provide a good amount of hope and gentle comfort.

Summary:

Plucked from the depths of poverty, sixteen year-old Izzy finds himself thrown into an entirely new world as Sir Sam Bellamy, a rich noble, claims him as his son.

Despite the many hurdles he will have to face at the infamous Saint Marianne boarding school, ruled by a vicious Headmaster, Sir Hornigold, Izzy will find a place of his own, and cross paths with one Stede Bonnet in the process.

Resilient and not ready to go down without a fight, Izzy doesn't expect to find friends, love, and a family. And yet, this is what awaits him at the end of the road.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Lion's Mane pt 2

Fair warning: I've had a fever for like half of the day, so this is liable to be more unhinged than usual. Everything feels sort of floaty and I'm pretty sure I had a dissociative episode this morning. Fun. Woooooo!

"That's The Haven, as Bellamy called it. The one with the corner tower and slate roof."

His house has a tower? No fair.

There was no mistaking that tall, angular, straggling figure. It was Ian Murdoch, the mathematician. A moment later we confronted him upon the road.

Is he hiding a jellyfish catapult up his jumper? That's the real question.

Is he three jellyfish in a trenchcoat?

"I am your subordinate, sir, under your roof. I am not aware that I owe you any account of my private actions." Stackhurst's nerves were near the surface after all he had endured. Otherwise, perhaps, he would have waited. Now he lost his temper completely. "In the circumstances your answer is pure impertinence, Mr Murdoch." "Your own question might perhaps come under the same heading."

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

"You will kindly make fresh arrangements for your future as speedily as you can." "I had intended to do so. I have lost to-day the only person who made The Gables habitable."

omg McPherson and Murdoch unrequited love enemies to lovers 100k angst hurt no comfort major character death

Murdoch needs to set out on a mission of revenge to murder all jellyfish. I still don't like him because throwing dogs through windows is an unforgivable offence, but VENGEANCE must be his new creed. He can turn the power of maths to his cause.

One man's quest to avenge his beloved. A tale for the ages. Revenge is best served wet.

I feel like there's a jelly and ice cream joke to be made there, but I don't think he should eat the jellyfish, even if that might be one of the only ways to kill them for good.

"My son here" -indicating a powerful young man, with a heavy, sullen face, in the corner of the sitting-room -- "is of one mind with me that Mr McPherson's attentions to Maud were insulting."

Maybe Mr Bellamy the younger is three jellyfish in a trenchcoat! Or maybe the whole family is jellyfish shapeshifters!

The possibilities are endless.

(the idea of jellyfish shapeshifters is going to give me the weirdest fever dreams tonight istg.)

Who could have imagined that so rare a flower would grow from such a root and in such an atmosphere? Women have seldom been an attraction to me, for my brain has always governed my heart, but I could not look upon her perfect clear-cut face, with all the soft freshness of the downlands in her delicate colouring, without realizing that no young man would cross her path unscathed.

Ugh, Holmes. Come on. I was counting on you! I'm going to lay the blame for this one on ACD and say that he suffered from the inability to describe a pretty woman without being horny about it, no matter who his narrator was supposed to be,

"There is no reason why my sister should be brought into the matter," growled the younger man.

Her boyfriend's dead, bitch. There's a lot of reasons. Stop being a dickhead and start being a comforting brother. Honestly. Stupid jellyfishifter.

She listened to a short account from my companion, with a composed concentration which showed me that she possessed strong character as well as great beauty. Maud Bellamy will always remain in my memory as a most complete and remarkable woman.

Well, at least she isn't getting brain fever. We are all grateful.

"Bring them to justice, Mr Holmes. You have my sympathy and my help, whoever they may be." It seemed to me that she glanced defiantly at her father and brother as she spoke.

OMG they are jellyfishifters! She knows! She knows!

"I see no reason for mystery," she answered. "We were engaged to be married, and we only kept it secret because Fitzroy's uncle, who is very old and said to be dying, might have disinherited him if he had married against his wish. There was no other reason."

The ancient enmity between the jellyfishifters and the sea turtle shifters! It's Romeo and Juliet meets Waterworld (I've never seen Waterworld, but I assume that it is a war epic about the ongoing conflicts between jellyfish and sea turtles. Or I do now, because it has occurred to me.)

"There was a time when I thought he was. But that was all changed when he understood the relations between Fitzroy and myself."

The tragedy. The homosexual pining.

"Sad story this, sir, about Mr McPherson's dog," said she one evening. I do not encourage such conversations, but the words arrested my attention. "What of Mr McPherson's dog?" "Dead, sir. Died of grief for its master."

Best. Boy. Survived being thrown through a plate glass window only to die of grief.

Also, what the fuck, Holmes? You 'don't encourage such conversations'? You're the only person she sees all day. TALK TO THE WOMAN.

So the dog was also attacked by the jellyfish. Someone really needs to mark that beach off limits.

You will know, or Watson has written in vain, that I hold a vast store of out-of-the-way knowledge without scientific system, but very available for the needs of my work. My mind is like a crowded box-room with packets of all sorts stowed away therein—so many that I may well have but a vague perception of what was there.

Have you finally remembered that lions man jellyfish exist?

...Inspector Bardle of the Sussex Constabulary—a steady, solid, bovine man with thoughtful eyes...

Animal comparisons as well. It's like we have Watson back.

"What would my position be if I let him slip away with all this evidence against him?"

You have literally 0 evidence.

"But I have examined them very carefully with a lens. They have peculiarities." "What are they, Mr Holmes?"

Well, one peculiarity is that they're jellyfish stings. So write that down.

"A most ingenious comparison. Or shall we say a very stiff cat-o'-nine-tails with small hard knots upon it?"

bdsm play gone very wrong... or jellyfish?

It's a difficult one.

Ian Murdoch staggered into the room, pallid, dishevelled, his clothes in wild disorder, clawing with his bony hands at the furniture to hold himself erect. “Brandy! Brandy!” he gasped, and fell groaning upon the sofa.

BRANDY! The triumphant return! And Watson isn't even here to administer it.

Get that man some brandy and cure him of... what's probably jellyfish stings, I guess. Does the brandy go in his mouth or does he bathe in it?

Half a tumbler of the raw spirit brought about a wondrous change.

If there is anything this year of Sherlock Holmes stories has taught me, it's that there is a panacea, it is brandy and we should all worship it. I need some brandy, clearly. Why am I taking paracetamol when I should be downing brandy?

At any moment he might die. More and more brandy was poured down his throat, each fresh dose bringing him back to life.

Best. Story. Ever.

I love this. It's perfect. No notes. Save that man's life with brandy, Holmes. If only you'd had a hip flask on you before. Can dogs drink brandy? I mean, there's that legend about St Bernards carrying brandy with them. Clearly dogs and brandy go together.

I can't believe brandy is saving the day. This is excellent.

Pads of cotton-wool soaked in salad-oil seemed to take the agony from the strange wounds.

OK, brandy and salad oil. Sure, why not.

I feel like he might be about to die of alcohol poisoning instead. But sure.

“I think I can, Stackhurst. Come with me now! And you, Inspector, come along! We will see if we cannot deliver this murderer into your hands.”

No, do not pick up the jellyfish with your hands.

“Cyanea!” I cried. “Cyanea! Behold the Lion's Mane!” The strange object at which I pointed did indeed look like a tangled mass torn from the mane of a lion. It lay upon a rocky shelf some three feet under the water, a curious waving, vibrating, hairy creature with streaks of silver among its yellow tresses. It pulsated with a slow, heavy dilation and contraction.

I'm really glad everyone is now on the same page, but I do have to say, Holmes, that clearly you had suspicions and you still allowed people to swim in that pool. That's reckless endangerment of lives, if ever I saw it. I am even more disappoint.

Even if you were wrong about it, you still shouldn't have let people swim there until you were sure you were wrong. Poor show.

There was a big boulder just above the ledge, and we pushed it until it fell with a tremendous splash into the water. When the ripples had cleared we saw that it had settled upon the ledge below. One flapping edge of yellow membrane showed that our victim was beneath it. A thick oily scum oozed out from below the stone and stained the water round, rising slowly to the surface.

A yuck and B, now the jellyfishifters are going to come after you.

Could have just put up signs telling people not to swim there rather than crushing the poor thing. It didn't mean to kill anyone.

"He gulped down brandy, a whole bottleful, and it seems to have saved his life."

✨Brandy!✨

“No, Mr. Murdoch. I was already upon the track, and had I been out as early as I intended I might well have saved you from this terrific experience.”

Yeah, feel bad, Holmes. Feel bad!

"The poor fellow had never thought to dry himself, and so I in turn was led to believe that he had never been in the water."

This I don't get. Was he not wet when they found him? Whatever. Doesn't matter. It was the jellyfish all along. There were no jellyfish catapults alas, and perhaps no jellyfishifters, but we aren't told whether the younger Mr Bellamy had gone suspiciously missing following the crushing of the jellyfish, are we?

But one thing we can all rest assured knowing: Brandy is the true hero. Three cheers for brandy!

[where-the-wind-travels]

i want to make more proper mc introductions as i mentioned earlier but i have no idea which one to do first aaaa a h 😭

* if yall have never heard of august it's because i have indeed never once posted about them but i have The Urge to since everyone else is posting about tefe

[laufire]

asdñflkajsdf forgot how goddamn annoying clarke and her fake ass apologies were. first of all monty's "do better" was FOR YOU TO LISTEN TO, not for you to use to force other people to forgive you after you've wronged them. second of all when she's all "YOU have also gotten endless chances, murphy!!" that's a) a big damn lie and we all know it, but this asshole really spent until the last minute of the show seeing murphy (and emori!) as "below" her in the morality scale (when frankly if you put everything in a balance they're probably among the individuals who most positive outcomes ended up generating for other people which is. hilarious when they were meant to be selfish survivalists. goes to show that selfishness can be neutral as long as you don't go out of your way to fuck up other people). and also b) proves her apology is insincere as fuck.

ps. also fuck her, miller, and bellamy's "as therapeutic as it is to beat up murphy" nonsense. you all ain't shit lol.

[reallygroovyninja]

This was inspired by the prompt - Kissing in a pillow fort

The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, speckled with fluffy, white clouds as Lexa made her way to Clarke's house. It was a Saturday afternoon, the kind that whispered promises of endless possibilities and adventures. Lexa’s footsteps were light, her heart filled with the familiar thrill of spending the day with her best friend.

As she approached the Griffin residence, the sound of laughter and music spilled out from an open window, guiding Lexa like a beacon. She rang the doorbell, a smile already blooming on her face.

Clarke opened the door, her bright blue eyes shining with excitement. "Lexa! You're here!" she exclaimed, stepping aside to let her in.

The Griffin house always felt like a second home to Lexa. There was a warmth to it, a lived-in feeling that made her feel instantly comfortable. She followed Clarke through the hallway, their conversation a lively stream of updates and shared jokes.

They reached Clarke's room, where a magnificent pillow fort awaited. It was a sprawling construction of blankets, pillows, and fairy lights, creating a cozy haven. Clarke's artistic touch was evident in the hand-drawn banners and colorful cushions that adorned their fortress.

"Welcome to our Saturday headquarters!" Clarke declared, her eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement.

Lexa laughed, her heart light. "It's amazing, Clarke. You've outdone yourself!"

They crawled into the fort, the outside world melting away as they entered their own little universe. Inside, the fort was even more magical. The fairy lights cast a soft glow, creating a world that felt removed from reality, a place where only they existed.

Clarke and Lexa sat cross-legged in the pillow fort, surrounded by a sea of soft blankets and the gentle glow of fairy lights. The air was filled with the sweet scent of popcorn and the quiet hum of their shared laughter. Clarke, with a half-eaten popcorn in hand, suddenly turned to Lexa, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity.

"Did you hear about Miss Diyoza in class yesterday? She got super mad because some kids were passing notes," Clarke said, her voice tinged with a hint of teenage drama.

Lexa’s eyes widened, her interest piqued. "Really? I missed that! She's usually so chill. What happened?"

Clarke leaned in closer, as if sharing a secret. "It was during the history lecture. And then, out of nowhere, she just stopped talking and stared at Monty and Harper passing this crumpled paper."

"No way!" Lexa exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of classroom gossip.

"Yeah! And she said, 'If you have something to share, please feel free to enlighten the whole class.'" Clarke mimicked Miss Diyoza's stern tone, causing both girls to giggle.

Lexa shook her head, smiling. "That's so like her. Did she read the note in front of the class?"

Clarke nodded, giggling. "Yeah, she did. Monty asks Harper to be his girlfriend"

Lexa laughed. "That’s embarrassing."

Clarke reached for another handful of popcorn, her eyes dancing with a mischievous glint.

"Did you hear about Bellamy and Echo?" she asked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Lexa's eyes lit up with interest, a smile playing on her lips. "No, what happened?"

"They're apparently dating now," Clarke revealed, her words laced with the excitement of a juicy secret.

Lexa gasped theatrically. "Really? Since when? They barely even talk in class!"

Clarke shrugged, enjoying the shared gossip. "I heard it from Raven. She said they've been hanging out a lot after school lately. It's so weird, right?"

"Yeah, totally unexpected," Lexa agreed, her tone full of wonder. "School's been full of surprises lately."

The conversation spiraled into a lively exchange of school gossip. They talked about who liked whom, which teachers were rumored to be the strictest, and the latest drama from the school play auditions. Each revelation was met with gasps, giggles, and wide-eyed expressions.

Clarke, with a sly grin, leaned closer. "And guess what else? I heard that Mr. Pike caught Jasper and Maya passing notes in English class. But instead of getting mad, he read the note out loud, and it was a really bad poem Jasper wrote for Maya!"

Lexa burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. "No way!"

After their laughter had subsided from the latest round of school gossip, Clarke glanced at the small laptop they had set up in the corner of their pillow fort. An idea sparked in her eyes, and she turned to Lexa with an excited grin.

"Hey, do you want to watch a movie?" Clarke asked, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Lexa's face lit up at the suggestion. "Yeah, that sounds awesome! What should we watch?"

Clarke bit her lip in thought, scanning through the list of movies they had been wanting to see. "How about a rom-com? Something light and fun?"

"Perfect choice!" Lexa agreed enthusiastically. "Rom-coms are the best for nights like these."

Clarke navigated through the streaming service, her finger hovering over the titles. Finally, her eyes landed on a movie they had both been talking about seeing. It was a new romantic comedy that everyone at school seemed to be talking about.

"What about this one?" Clarke pointed to the screen, displaying the movie's poster, which featured a colorful and whimsical design. "I've heard it's really funny."

Lexa peered at the screen and nodded, her smile widening. "Yes, let's watch that! I've been wanting to see it ever since Anya mentioned it."

Excited, Clarke clicked on the movie, and the opening credits began to roll. They adjusted their positions in the fort, making sure both of them could see the screen comfortably. Clarke grabbed a couple of extra pillows for them to lean on and pulled the bowl of popcorn closer.

As the movie started, the fort was filled with the sounds of laughter and dialogue from the screen. Clarke and Lexa were soon absorbed in the story, commenting on the characters and laughing at the funny scenes. The outside world seemed to fade away as they delved into the world of the movie, enjoying the comfort of each other's company and the shared joy of a good film.

When the movie reached its climax and the two lead characters shared a tender, triumphant kiss, Clarke turned to Lexa, a curious glimmer in her eyes.

"Lexa, have you ever kissed anyone?" Clarke asked, a playful tone in her voice.

Lexa, taken aback by the sudden question, shook her head with a shy smile. "No, I haven't. What about you?"

"Me neither," Clarke replied, a bit of a giggle escaping her. She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Do you think it's like how they show in movies?"

Lexa pondered for a moment, her gaze turning back to the frozen image of the kissing couple on the laptop screen. "I don't know. It looks… nice, I guess? But probably not exactly like that in real life."

The idea seemed to hang in the air between them, a bubble of curiosity in their cozy world of pillows and blankets.

"Maybe we could… you know, try it? Just a peck, to see what it's like," Clarke suggested, the words tumbling out in a rush, her cheeks flushing with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Lexa's eyes widened slightly, but then she nodded, a mutual understanding of friendship and trust between them. "Okay, just a peck. Like a practice."

They both leaned in awkwardly, their eyes closing as they shared a quick, innocent kiss, more a brush of lips than anything else. As they pulled away, Clarke burst into giggles, the sound light and carefree.

"That was… weird," Clarke said, still laughing.

Lexa laughed too, though her mind was a whirlwind of new feelings and thoughts. It was a simple, innocent moment, but it sparked a realization within her, an awakening of sorts to new possibilities she hadn't considered before.

The movie resumed playing, but Lexa's thoughts were elsewhere, gently exploring the new emotions that the innocent peck had stirred. It was a moment of self-discovery, subtle yet significant, a first step in understanding herself better.

Clarke, oblivious to Lexa's internal revelations, chatted away, filling the fort with her cheerful voice. The night continued with more laughter, movie scenes, and shared snacks, a testament to the simplicity and beauty of their friendship.

As the movie credits rolled and the fairy lights in the pillow fort seemed to glow a bit softer, Clarke and Lexa lay side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. The laughter and conversations of the evening had woven a new layer into the tapestry of their friendship, each moment a thread of shared experiences and understanding.

Clarke turned her head to look at Lexa, her eyes reflecting the dim light. "Tonight was fun, Lexa. We should do this more often."

Lexa smiled, her thoughts still lingering on the revelations of the evening, but her heart full of warmth for the friendship she shared with Clarke. "Yeah, it was perfect. Best Saturday ever."

They began to tidy up the fort, folding blankets and gathering up the remnants of their snacks. As they worked, their chatter was light and easy, punctuated with laughter and plans for their next adventure.

Finally, with the fort returned to its former state of just being Clarke's room, Lexa gathered her things to leave. At the door, she turned to Clarke, a genuine smile on her face. "Thanks for today, Clarke. It really meant a lot."

Clarke hugged Lexa, the bond between them stronger than ever. "Anytime, Lexa. You're always welcome here. See you on Monday?"

"See you on Monday," Lexa agreed, stepping out into the cool night air, her heart light with the joys of youth and the comfort of a friendship that was more like family.

As Lexa walked home under the gentle glow of the starlit sky, her thoughts kept drifting back to the day's playful dare and the quick, innocent kiss she shared with Clarke. She could still feel her heart fluttering a bit, a mixture of surprise and excitement at the new experience.

The kiss was brief, a mere peck, but it left Lexa with a whirl of feelings she hadn't expected. She wondered what it meant, feeling a buzz of curiosity about the new emotions stirring inside her.

Skipping a little as she walked, Lexa felt a warm glow inside her. Today wasn't just any other day—it was a day where something new and exciting happened, a day she would definitely remember.

After Lexa left, Clarke lay in her bed, her room feeling a bit more special after their fun day. She couldn't stop thinking about the movie, the jokes they shared, and especially the quick, silly kiss they had dared to try. It was just a peck, really, but it made her heart beat a bit faster, and she found herself smiling at the memory.

Clarke hugged her pillow, feeling a mix of excitement and wonder. It was just for practice, she reminded herself, but it was also kind of cool and something totally new. She was happy it was with Lexa, her best friend who made everything fun and less scary.

As she closed her eyes, Clarke felt thankful for having Lexa in her life. They could share jokes, watch movies, build pillow forts, and even do goofy things like practice kisses, and it all just felt right. She drifted off to sleep with a smile, thinking about their next hangout and all the other fun firsts they might share together.

As the night wrapped the world in its quiet embrace, both Lexa and Clarke lay in their respective beds, miles apart yet connected by the memories of the day.

For Lexa, the stars outside whispered of new beginnings and self-discovery, each twinkle a reminder of the day's innocent revelation.

For Clarke, the familiar walls of her room held the echoes of laughter and shared secrets, a testament to the strength and beauty of their friendship.

In their own ways, they both cherished the simplicity and joy of their bond, a friendship that was evolving and deepening with each shared adventure.

As they drifted into dreams, their thoughts intertwined with the promise of more days filled with laughter, understanding, and the magic of growing up together.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

Adam sat at the piano, mindlessly playing any song he could remember. He wasn't in the mood to learn a new song or scale, just looking for some familiar comfort.

His physical wounds were healing quickly, though his emotional wounds continued to fester. Adam had rejoined classes with his peers. It wouldn't have been so bad if the other students weren't constantly staring at him with pity. He had probably lost the boyfriend he had paraded around the school, announcing their intentions to marry. His eyes seemed to be healing, but the last of the scarring refused to leave, changing his appearance forever. He almost always felt cold, even in the harsh sunlight or next to a roaring fire. Adam had changed, and now everyone felt sorry for him.

The last thing that Adam needed was the pity of the entire school. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about his relationship with Theo that he didn't want to hear. The rumour mill had decided that Theo wasn't ever coming back, that he was incarcerated somewhere a million miles away or that Theo was living happily in the Void with a full blooded demon, completely abandoning the guy he'd almost killed. Adam never corrected any of these rumours, extending their lifespan. Why bother correcting people when Adam didn't know the truth anymore than they did? What did it even matter in the end? Theo wasn't here, and Adam couldn't bear to see his own reflection, let alone talk to Theo about it. He was stuck in limbo, waiting for something to make him feel again. Nothing in the school felt like it could shake the dead feeling squeezing his chest.

Most of the times that he wasn't in class, Adam would sit on the stairs that he and Theo had liked to sit on and stare blankly ahead. The view overlooked the end of Pleasantview and the entirety of Crystal Cove and Theo had loved to stare out at the endless green. Growing up in a tiny desert made him consider even the most mundane views of nature with awe. Truthfully, Adam had always taken the beauty of Pleasantview and Crystal Cove for granted. Sitting with Theo had been like seeing the same old hills and trees for the first time, every time. They would often sneak out at night to watch the stars and cuddle under the majesty of the natural world. Ever since Theo left, nothing had looked the same. Everything was just grey and dull.

"I see what you mean, Ewan. How long has he been like this?"

Ewan G Maricourt and Alicia Toyonaga watched Adam through a window, helpless to change his condition. Alicia had been assigned as an ambassador to the Arkhelios coven, so she had seemed like the perfect candidate to guide Ewan's son past this incident with an Arkhelian boy. Alicia didn't really care for her assignment, but it was better than living in Strangetown with her royal father in law. Ewan had asked her for tips on dealing with the Bellamy family and she'd only laughed.

"At least a few weeks now," Ewan answered solemnly. "He's seen doctors and healers and nothing ever changes."

"Well, of course not!" Alicia exclaimed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's grieving. You can't make a potion for that and call it done. He needs time to process what happened."

"It's been months since the accident. He's safe here with us. Hasn't it been long enough already? I just want him to be happy again."

Alicia sighed.

"Well, obviously you want him to be happy, but you can't rush it. Has he talked to Theo yet? Roman's just starting to calm down in public, so I gather that he must have talked to Theo recently. He keeps going on about a birthday party that Theo's going to come home for. Maybe Adam could attend this party? It's somewhere private, but with capable magic users should something go wrong. It sounds perfect. At least according to the gossip around town. Arkhelios really is the most tedious place."

"Theo won't be there," Ewan replied. "I've gotten his latest progress report, and it's not what we hoped it would be. He's too unstable to risk in a crowd like that, especially if Adam is there. Can you imagine if something Theo does accidentally triggers the same reaction as before? I'm not risking my son's life so he can talk to his boyfriend in a crowded room filled with potential innocent bystanders. The Sovereign agrees."

"Well, you can tell his parents that," Alicia scoffed. "I'm not getting involved with the Bellamys and their drama. it's bad enough having to endure Wanda every day. Why is the boy not meeting the requirements? I thought he was some kind of prodigy?"

"A prodigy in chaos only," Ewan sighed. "From what I gather, it's all very complicated. You don't know how many reports I've gotten over the last few months with the word 'curse' repeated through them. I don't fully understand the problem, but my knowledge of demonic magic is rather limited. From what I do understand, young Theo has an inert curse that gets summoned to him when he tries to use magic. The Sovereign thought that detaching it from Theo would protect him, but he hasn't found a way to use magic without bringing it right back to him again. Apparently, they're trying to reattach it to him for some reason and it's much too delicate a process to let him return home. If something went wrong, the results could be disastrous."

"Reattach? Like surgically?"

"I have no idea. Who knows with demons? I'd assume it would be some kind of ceremony or series of spells, but I don't know the way of demons or blood magic. My mother would have hit the roof if I studied any of that in school."

"Adam will feel isolated from Theo if he has no idea of what's happening with Theo," Alicia pointed out. "This whole thing he's experiencing isn't going to get any better if he hasn't talked to Theo since the accident and Theo comes back completely changed magically."

"What am I supposed to do then? You tell me that I need to give Adam closure, but I don't have the clearance to bring Theo here even if it was safe. If he's getting calls to his parents, that's the first I'm hearing about it. They won't grant one to the person Theo could still injure through their connection, no matter what I say. I can't share these notes with Adam, even if it would help, without failing to uphold my oath as head of the coven."

"Then all we can do for Adam is support him and give him the space to grieve. I'm sorry, but I don't see any other way. Has he spoken with a counselor about this? That might help speed things up."

Ewan shook his head.

"I tried to get him to see the school counselor, but apparently, he just spent the hour in silence, staring at the wall. He won't see anyone else and I can't make him talk about his feelings. Even Remy seems to have hit a wall with him and she's the only one to have gotten close. I just want to see Adam want to live again."

"Maybe a change of scenery would help," Alicia suggested. "We could take him in Arkhelios, or if that's too painful, send him to Strangetown with his mother."

"No, that won't happen," Ewan quickly replied. "The last thing he needs is to let his mother stomp all over him. I may not be the most sensitive parent, but Edana will only make things worse." He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I understand the pain the Bellamys must feel, because I feel the same way at the thought of sending Adam away. He's my child. I need to be here for him where he's comfortable and safe. To not know when I could see him again would be agony and I won't let the pain the Bellamys are feeling now be in vain. Theo will return here when it is safe for him to do so."

"And Adam?"

Ewan groaned, unable to see an easy solution.

"I don't know. Maybe Miruna can take him in at the palace on weekends. It's not too far away and it's a decent change of pace."

"Not bad," Alicia agreed. "A change in roommates might help as well."

"This is the worst thing to happen all week. I can't believe I have a share a room with my little brother. We haven't had to share a room since we were kids. It's so unfair. My old roommate was almost never in the room and knew when to be discreet. You never leave your room."

Remy was about as excited to share a room with her brother as Adam, though she tried to downplay it after seeing the look on his face. The last thing she wanted was for Adam to feel resented. At least he didn't have a boyfriend to try to sneak into their room. Adam wasn't going to fight for the bedroom if all he was doing was moping. He could still do that downstairs.

"So, which bed do you want? I'm rather partial to the one by the window, but you can choose."

Adam lifted his head, only to see pieces of Void attach to his twin. She, like everyone else, seemed to be oblivious to what Adam could see. He'd stopped taking the many potions prescribed to him, but still the unsettling images of the Void remained. At this point, he just assumed that this would be his new normal. He'd forever be the unsettling prophet just like Theo's little sister. Rien seemed to enjoy her eerie reputation, but it wasn't how Adam wanted to live. At least he never heard from the "spirits" Rien spoke to. Maybe this oddity could be corrected in time.

What did he tell his sister? "Hey, I noticed that you were glowing various shades of pink all of a sudden. Are you feeling okay?"

"You can have whatever bed you want, Rem. I don't have anyone to share mine with. It doesn't matter."

"Adam, I can find you a hook up, you just need to let me know," Remy insisted. "Are you done with Theo? I have a few people who might want to date you. If you just want a meaningless booty call, I can name two guys who would respond, no strings attached."

"Thanks, Rem. I'm good though. I'm dating Theo and he's going to come home and we're going to be happy again. Unless...what if he comes back different? What if I don't like how Theo is when he's stable? What if he's cheating on me wherever he is? I wish I could talk to him."

"Look, just try one date with someone," Remy urged. "Anyone. It doesn't even have to be a date. You could just go for coffee with a sexy friend. Get some experience so that you do know what you want when Theo comes back."

"I thought you were Team Theo," Adam accused. "All you've said since he's left is that he loves me and to follow my feelings for him."

"Adam, you have the social life of a rock. You spend all day crying or moping and it's gotten to the point that Dad made us roommates and wants Miruna to babysit your walking corpse. Of course I know that Theo loved you when he left and he's a great guy, but you're miserable. You're fourteen for God's sake, go find some way to be happy. Your star-crossed love isn't the center of the universe. Go find a way to be happy and I'll help you deal with Theo when he comes back...or deal with rebound guy if you choose Brand New Theo again. Just get out of this school for ten minutes, that's all I ask."

"You're right," Adam sighed, giving up on the conversation so that he could return to moping. "I have no social life. My boyfriend almost killed me. My body doesn't work the same way as it did before the accident. I haven't seen Theo in months. Thank you for the reminder. If you don't mind, I think I'm going to try to sleep."

Adam curled onto his new bed, pulling the covers over him to block out the world. Beside him, Remy fumed.

"Adam, this is my room too. It's only 7:30 pm. Why don't you go downstairs to mope? I had plans for tonight and it would really help if you were somewhere else, not being a buzzkill."

"You go downstairs," Adam mumbled from under his blankets. "I don't need to see you reminding me of everything I've lost with Theo. My class work is finished and I have nowhere to be until classes tomorrow morning. It's perfectly fine for me to go to bed early, no matter how that cramps your style."

"I'll tell Dad," Remy threatened, sounding just like she had when they were kids.

"Tell him what? That you won't let me sleep because you want to party in our shared room?"

"I'll tell him that you're too depressed and you're making me depressed too. That I need my own space to clear your psychic negativity."

"That doesn't make any sense," Adam replied, peeking out of his blankets to childishly stick his tongue out at his sister.

"Made you look," Remy laughed, pointing at her brother's exposed head. "It's way too easy to manipulate you."

Adam groaned and retreated once again into his blankets.

"You're the worst, Rem," he grumbled. "You don't understand my problems at all. It's not a game."

"Never said it was," Remy replied happily. "I'm going to go hang out with actual people, but I'll be back to bother you later. I'll bring you a snack, since you ate pretty much nothing at dinner. See ya later, roomie!"

Remy skipped out the door, leaving Adam alone once again in his misery. It wasn't like he was starving himself or anything, food just didn't seem appealing to Adam. Nothing did. If only Theo was there to talk things through with. He wasn't just his boyfriend, Theo had been his best friend since they were six years old. Adam had some other friends, but no one like Theo. Except...now he might not have Theo at all anymore. He may not even want Theo to come back. He hadn't decided yet. His life would hang in limbo until he could talk to his boyfriend and see how they could possibly move past this.

Until that time, Adam buried himself deeper into his blankets, praying that Remy had just been joking with the threat of her return.

[howieabel]

“Bouchaud penetratingly observes, “The supposed omniscience and perfect efficacy of a free market stems from economic work done in the 1950s and ’60s, which with hindsight looks more like propaganda against communism than plausible science.” The capitalist ideology that undergirds economics in the United States has led the profession to be detached from reality, rendering it incapable of understanding many of the crises the world faces. Mainstream economics’ obsession with the endless growth of GDP—a measure of “value added,” not of human well-being.” ― John Bellamy Foster, The Ecological Rift: Capitalism’s War on the Earth

[bellamyblakepositivity]

Endless Bellamy Blake (157/?)