#xwhatifelt

mun’s interpretation meme.

♢ what's your opinion on different interpretations of your muse?

  well he almost died, he remembered. a mild attack, in the middle of his son’s graduation party. he did hold it back, the coughing, everybody believing it was was because of his emotions over the event. they noticed when he was chocking already, falling on the floor. 

 john run towards him calling 911 and he lost track of what happened next. he spotted his son sitting near his bed, head on the small bedside table near his father’s bed. he remembered how he himself would sit like this waiting for john to wake up, and tell him he’s ok. and his eyes started to get wet, blocking his son’s words:

“i’m sorry about your party, i should have stayed at home and nothing like this wouldn’t happened. i know how sorry you are you missed everything. I don’t need you lying to me. i know what graduating means to you, jonathan.” he never uses his son’s full name, unless it’ something clearly unusual, and him fucking up the ceremony was unusual. “ i know how much you suffered to get that diploma and i’m there chocking and interruption one of the best moments of your life.”

Rusty door closes behind armoured men. Bellamy stands at the window, merely to give his SHAKING HANDS a chance to hold onto something. Controlled breathing. You’ve made a choice. You saved him. Now comes what you’ve always had to do. Survive. 

A flashback to the reaping. Bellamy stands with the other boys his age, fists clenched in his pockets because he knows his name is in the bowl at least twenty times. Since his mother was executed he has to not only care for his sister but also feed his boyfriend, John Murphy, whose mom is a bitch and an alcoholic. At some point in time Bellamy stopped counting, stopped calculating his odds of being chosen and instead began to PRAY it would not hit his sister. Or Murphy. The female tribute is declared. A girl named ROMA. Bellamy knows her from when he used to go to school. He saw her a few times. A silent prayer passes parted lips. Please, dear God, let it not be them. Let it not be me. The man with the strange orange beard makes a dramatic pause before he reads out the name on the card. Bellamy’s senses are sharpened to a point. He inhales, preparing himself for the worst.

                                               ❛ JOHN MURHY! ❜

He was not prepared. Not at all. The SHOCK knocks the breath out of his lungs and for a moment he is FROZEN. No. No! Not HIM. His head turns and he sees Murphy move. I can’t let him go. He’s too young. I can’t watch this. 

         ❛ I VOLUNTEER AS A TRIBUTE ! ❜

Heads turn. GASPS. Jaws clenched, Bellamy steps forward, wearing a look of DEFIANCE. Murphy, stay back, he commands loudly because he can imagine the look on the boy’s face. What follows is a trance. His sister SCREAMING HER LUNGS OUT and being dragged away by the guards. They lead him to the podium. Applause. They take them away. It all goes past him like he’s a statue, his features ever stoic.

Minutes ago he had to say goodbye to his sister. Her hair smelled of the forest as usual. Don’t trade your name for rations. Go to the Griffins. Take care of Murphy. I love you. 

Promise me you’ll come back.

I swear.

And then she’s gone, struggling against the grip of the guards. Next and last is Murphy. Bellamy waits for the door to open, his stomach feeling like he had steel wool for breakfast. And then finally, FINALLY the door opens and there he is. Hands reach out, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him in for a BREATHTAKING KISS. 

text bell ! &. @xwhatifelt

THE SEA IS ALIKE LIQUID SILVER IN THE MOONLIGHT. Suddenly the peace is disturbed, a tail breaking the surface of the water for a mere second before it vanishes in the ocean again. What remains are rings of light, spreading over the water —— the only proof that there is something or SOMEONE in there. This someone is no other than a merman whose STRONG VERDANT TAIL carries him swiftly through the sea. It is with graceful ease that he swims close to the shore, always hiding in the shadows. 

             He can see him CLEARLY through the branches of the tree he’s hiding behind. Belomi has been watching the camp of the people who fell from the sky for days now, listening to their fights, their plans and watching them struggle as they were confronted with the harsh reality that was THE GROUND. They were stupid enough to enter his people’s territory, resulting in one of them being speared. His own fault. 

Belomi’s center of attention is the boy with the nose that resembles an EAGLE’S BEAK, whose eyes are sharp and glimmering. He’s been watching him for a while. Except this time something new catches his eye—the boy is WOUNDED. There is a large gash in his leg. His eyes widen for a moment. Surely dirt has already gotten into the wound. He SHIFTS uneasily. The man doesn’t know what it is or why but something inside him doesn’t like this. He should not care about skaikru. They were not welcome. But something about the boy drew him in. He had to help him. And so he wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and decided to wait for nightfall.