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bellarkelifestyle · 7 years

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YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME

WOWOWOWOW i can’t believe it so this morning i hit 100 followers and like oh my god!! You guys are incredibly special to me and it means the world and beyond that so many of you care/think i’m funny when i go on rants and rambles and make stupid jokes and cry!!! Seriously!! I love all of you!!! I hope you all know that whenever you reblog or reply to my posts i read all of them!! Your guys’ thoughts and opinions are super important to me and i love getting to see them!! Keep sharing!!

@ my mutuals: you guys are SUPER FANTASTIC and i hope you keep being fantastic i love talking to you guys and seeing what you’re doing and thinking and making 💕💕 thanks for putting up with me

@ my convo people: I TALK AND RAMBLE SO MUCH i know i do i apologize and am super grateful for you guys love all of you ❤❤ @freckle-bellamy @commanderclarke @nowwesurvive @magic-and-timetravel @its-mrsbrightside @bel-ami-blake

as a celly and huge thank you to all of you out there i wrote up this short and sweet bellarke fic (because i know most of y'all are bellarke fam! love u all anyways tho) taken from clarke’s POV from the rescue/reunion scene in 3x02!! i really love writing and i hope that it conveys how much i appreciate all of you! hope you enjoy! and once again if you have any fic prompts/requests feel free to ask me about them!! and as always let me know what you think!! check out my other fic here

I’ll Do Anything

Clarke feels more dejected and defeated than she has in a long while. Probably since she left Camp Jaha three months ago. Roan, her kidnapper, spoke the words she was denying to herself. No one will come for her. Why would they? He was right. She left them. Abandoned them. Abandoned him…

She pushes the image of a tall, strong, warm, and welcoming body out of her mind. No, not him. Never him. He’s the last person that would come after her. Leaving him all alone… She remembers his face when she told him she wasn’t coming in. It’s one of the many things she hates herself for. He probably hates her too.

Enough, she tells herself, feeling worse than when she started. Think about something less painful, less guilt-inducing. So she thinks about her imminent meeting with the Ice Queen. ‘Meeting’ being a pretty word for ‘death.’ Under different circumstances, it would be funny, that her imminent death is a more welcome thought than the people, the boy she left behind. But these circumstances are sort of horrible, so it’s not funny. Because the thought of having lost him, the person she relied on so much, is too painful to think about. It’s right up there with her murder of Finn, and the massacre at Ton DC. Staring at her lap, hair a mop covering her face, she wishes she could push it away, but her hands are bound to the pillar at her back. She doesn’t even try to squirm anymore. There’s no point, no hope. Clarke’s ears pick up the faintest rustle in the cave, but she pays it no mind. It’s probably just Roan peddling around somewhere.

Suddenly, a face is in front of her. There’s freckles, caramel skin, soft brown eyes, a mess of curly black hair and she can’t believe her eyes. She can’t believe it, it can’t be him, but, it is. It’s him. It’s Bellamy…

“Hey,” he barely breathes.

“Bell…” she tries to say his name, but the gag in her mouth turns it into a muffled whisper. He’s here, right here, and she’s running her eyes back and forth over his face. He’s smiling a brilliant, beautiful smile, one she rarely sees. She would be smiling too - if she could - and his hand, partially covered in an ice nation glove, brushes a strand of hair away from her face. He’s really here, touching her. She could sink into those warm, strong hands. She hadn’t let herself think about just how much she missed him in these three months until this moment. His eyes are filled with hope, and she knows hers are mirroring the same right back at him. Then, she’s struck with a sudden, terrifying thought.

Roan.

No. No! He’ll kill him. And now, her joy is being torn at by her fear. If he gets caught, or seen; if he dies… But the thought’s cut off as she watches her worst nightmare come true. Bellamy whispers, “I’ll get you out of here,” and she wants to believe him, so badly it’s brought tears to her eyes. He gently removes her gag, his fingers moving hesitantly and delicately over her face. But it’s too late.

Roan’s moving behind him, and she barely has the time to scream, “Look out!” before Roan moves into view. Bellamy raises his sword, but in a flash, Bellamy’s on the ground, with a sword digging into his chest and suddenly, everything about the Ice Nation flies out of her mind. There is only Bellamy.

Bellamy… she cries in her mind. I can’t lose him. If he dies… and she can’t even finish the thought, because the terror and pain that fills her chest, it’s beyond agonizing; it’s almost crippling.

“No, please! Please don’t,” she screams, knowing that nothing in this moment - and perhaps in any moment - is more important than him, than his life, even hers. Especially hers.

I can’t lose him, he’s, he’s everything. I, I, and the possibility of the words that follow - the three words she’s only ever said once before in her life - send Clarke into a new spiral of despair. She pushes those words into the dark recesses of her mind and speaks again.

“I’ll do anything, I- I- I’ll stop fighting,” she pleads and offers, and she couldn’t care less that she’s signing her life away to the Ice Queen, that she’ll be nothing more than a sacrifice, a tribute to further the Ice Nation’s strength. Her death, her life? None of it matters, not when Bellamy is lying at her feet, a few inches away from death. Clarke feels her strength give out. There’s absolutely no reason for Roan to spare him. What good is her offer of passivity when he’s proven he can physically overpower her?

Bellamy’s going to die today, she realizes, and it’s all my fault. I led him here, even after I left, and he still came for me. He came for me, and now I’m going to be the one who gets him killed. Bellamy… I’m so sorry…

And all she can manage to say is “just, please don’t kill him,” her voice breaking as the last words leave her mouth.

The only thing left to do is beg, and she’s willing, more than willing, because she wasn’t lying when she said she’d do anything. But words fail her now. The knowledge that Bellamy is about to die, that she couldn’t do it, couldn’t do enough to save him has stolen any possible words from her mouth. She’s failed him. So all she can do is stare at Roan with a broken heart and broken eyes. She refuses to look at Bellamy, on the ground helpless in front of her.

Roan pulls his glare from Bellamy and fixes it on her. His gaze is so piercing, so accusatory. And Clarke is scared. More terrified than she’s ever been in her miserable, short life. She allows herself a small glance at Bellamy, as Roan watches her and her heart shatters all over again. Who knew you could feel so much pain over someone still breathing? She knows her lip is quivering, and that she’s only seconds away from completely breaking down.

Roan’s gaze turns back to Bellamy. Slowly, incredibly, the sword is lifted from Bellamy’s chest. There are no comprehensive thoughts in Clarke’s mind. Just senseless relief.

She lets out a shaky breath she hadn’t known she was holding in. “Thank you,” she whispers, but Roan’s quick. He stabs Bellamy in the leg with his own knife.

Bellamy screams.

Her heart twists.

Panicking, Clarke knows where he’s been hurt. Knows he likely won’t be able to stand, let alone walk for a long while. Maybe weeks. She knows that alone, he could even die. Bleed out in this cave. She frantically looks over Bellamy; she’d do anything to help him, but she’s still bound and useless. Roan stands, and the only thing he says is to Bellamy.

“Don’t follow us,” he commands, voice as hard as his stare, before kicking Bellamy in the head, hard.

She winces, and she feels both soul-sucking emptiness and soul-scorching agony inside. But he’s alive, she reminds herself, in an attempt to calm down. It doesn’t really work. She keeps repeating it, though, a mantra to maintain some form of sanity.

All she can do is stare at Bellamy, unconscious in front of her, but it’s not enough, it’ll never be enough. She has so much she wants to say, to do, but before she’s ready, Roan yanks her to her feet and pulls her away from him. Pulls her away from Bellamy. The boy who came. The boy she should’ve known would always come.

#WOW THANKS YOU GUYS #I LOVE ALL YALL #follower mark #100 followers #bellarke #my fic #fan fiction #fan fic #ff #fanfiction #fanfic #bellarke fan fiction #3x02 #wanheda: pt. 2 #the reunion scene #i was missingwaterbottles #bellarkelifestyle

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ivoryandbonerpg-blog · 7 years

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♔ NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM ♔

( the basics. )

AGE: 18 LINEAGE: Pureblood SCHOOL / ALUMNI: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry HOUSE: Gryffindor ALLIANCE: The Order

( personality. )

✓ / ✗ : introverted, self-conscious, brave, determined, loyal

( biography. )

• No matter how hard he’s tried, Neville Longbottom has never really felt like he’s properly fit in anywhere for the entirety of his existence. Born to two revered war heroes who sacrificed their lives and sanity for the sake of defeating Lord Voldemort at the curtail of the First Wizarding War, Neville Longbottom grew up believing that he didn’t belong in the family he’d been born into. As a chubby, awkward child with a slight stammer and a severe dip in self-esteem and confidence, Neville didn’t think he was worthy enough of taking the great, respectable Pureblood name Longbottom as one of his own. One or two times, Neville considered begging his gram, who remained his fierce, sole parental guardian throughout the duration of his life, to strip him of his title just so he wouldn’t have to bear the shame and disappointment that would surely come whenever someone spotted him and realized he had come from the loins of the great Frank and Alice Longbottom. And when Neville, a perpetually anxious child who constantly feared saying the wrong thing to upset his elder relatives, failed to show any signs of wizardry by the proper age, he knew that he had embarrassed and disgraced his parents’ names. Though his grandmother thought that yelling and smacking magic into him was the sure fire way to kickstart Neville’s magical instincts, and his great uncle Algie strongly believed that terrifying Neville into fatal situations would scare the magic into him, Neville knew he was doomed to a mundane life of hopelessness. He was a failure, and it was a mantra Neville proceeded to chant to himself at night, locked in his room and muffling his tears with his pillow.

• But somehow, miraculously, Neville’s powers showed themselves eventually--and not a moment too late! His extended family was relieved that the magical gene had been passed onto Neville, and none were more pleased than his grandmother when Neville’s acceptance letter to Hogwarts arrived through owl post just shy of his eleventh birthday. But where being magical--a real wizard--should have filled Neville with joy, it instead cursed him with perpetual anxiety. Now that he was as magical as both of his parents, Neville realized he had something to prove--to his grandmother and to his parents--in order to keep the title of “wizard” a valid and well deserved one. His mother reminded him constantly of his parents’ accomplishments and valiant struggles, and told him to never lose sight of what was important--what was lost and what was gained--because people like his mother and father had sacrificed themselves for the greater good. So it was with the courage of his father, Frank, and the optimism of his mother, Alice, that led Neville Longbottom and his little toad, Trevor, traipsing onto the Hogwarts Express that fateful day in 1991. When the time came for Neville to be sorted, he feared he would be declared a Squib publicly by the Sorting Hat and told to pack his belongings and head home where he belonged. But instead, the hat--with a great deal of debate--finally decided to place Neville in Gryffindor...the House of his parents. The House of his family. So overwhelmed with joy and relief, Neville scrambled off the sorting stool and ran to the table before realizing the hat was still placed firmly atop his head (and grumbling the entire time).

• Though sorted into the House of bravery and ferocity, Neville felt that he was anything but. His peers mocked him--even those who were supposed to be housemates--and the worst part was that Neville couldn’t exactly blame them. He was awkward, fumbling, and didn’t seem to understand classes that others, like Hermione Granger or even local bully Draco Malfoy, seemed to handle with grace and ease. He destroyed almost any potion he touched, couldn’t handle flying lessons if his life had depended on it, and struggled with even the most basic lessons in Transfiguration classes. But despite the academic struggles that laid so painfully before him, Neville persevered--year after year. He didn’t have friends, per say, most of the time, but--he had endurance. And the reminder that he was doing everything he could to make his parents proud, in the slim chance that one day, should they come out of the spell-induced cloud Bellatrix Lestrange had placed them in...they would be ready and pleased for him. That he would be ready for them.

• Though school was difficult and Neville’s own repeatedly failing confidence was a constant hindrance in his life, his eventual friendship with Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood proved to be some of the most important of his life. He liked to think he was friends, on a very base level, with the Gryffindors who were often dubbed the Golden Trio--Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley--but with Ginny and Luna, he felt as though he had friends who cared about him, even when he wasn’t around. They became his confidants in every sense of the word; Luna gave Neville the inspiration to be himself without worrying what other people thought of him and Ginny gave Neville the courage to stand up for what he believed in, no matter the cost. So when his fifth year arrived and no one believed Harry Potter’s declarations that Lord Voldemort had returned, Neville Longbottom stood up as a willing addition to what eventually became known as Dumbledore’s Army, if only to soothe his anger and frazzled nerves after hearing that Bellatrix Lestrange had escaped from prison. Neville might have been just a boy, but he wanted to avenge his parents’ for the crimes that had been so foully committed against them. And, perhaps most importantly, Neville wanted to be a part of something that mattered--just like his father and mother before him.

• Though the original Dumbledore’s Army eventually crumbled and fell, leaving Neville dejected and furious with the wizarding government for blindly disregarding what was directly in front of them, he never gave up hope of making a change after that. He had learned he was strong enough--stronger than the child who had mustered all of his courage to stand up to a childhood bully, and even stronger than the boy who cried himself to sleep at night for thinking he wasn’t magical enough. Neville Longbottom’s life had been one entirely about endurance and perseverance, and he refused to let anyone take that away from him. So when the Golden Trio set off in search of horcruxes following the collapse of the Hogwarts they knew and the tragic passing of Albus Dumbledore, Neville started up another attempt at Dumbledore’s Army in Harry’s absence. The 1997 version of Hogwarts was no longer safe, as they quickly realized, and Neville attempted to penetrate the thick cloud of corruption and darkness that surrounded the world they’d once all loved so dearly by rallying members to join him in an effort to support Harry, Ron, and Hermione while they traversed the globe in search of Godric only knew what to stop Lord Voldemort from rising to power fully again. Neville did what he could at Hogwarts, protecting those who were unable to defend themselves and meeting in secret with those brave enough to help, before what remained of Dumbledore’s Army eventually fled through underground tunnels and escaped Hogwarts with as many innocents as they could. The school had turned against them all, and Neville had the scars and marks from standing up to Death Eaters to prove it.

• Now, Neville is a very involved member of The Order of the Phoenix, doing whatever he can to help the war effort and protect those who need proper protection. And while his grandmother has assured him she can take care of herself perfectly fine, Neville grew fearful after she fled from a potential Death Eater raid and has placed her in work at one of the safe houses located in Ireland. She’s farther away than he’d like her to be, but at least he knows she’s safe for the time being. He has grown a great deal since his Hogwarts days and, while he still stammers a bit and struggles with his self-image more than he’d care to admit, Neville Longbottom is now longer a wallflower. He’s in full bloom, and he’s ready for whatever may come.

( sexuality. )

up to player

( connections. )

⚔ Ginny Weasley: Ginny was one of the first people to ever show Neville a shred of genuine kindness and decency at Hogwarts, and for that, he can never forget or repay her. Ginny has grown, over the years, into one of Neville’s absolute greatest and closest friends; he worries for her in the outcome of this war, but knows if there’s anyone who can hold her own against a handful of monstrous Death Eaters, it’s the youngest Weasley.

⚔ Luna Lovegood: Luna Lovegood is one of the only people in the entire world that Neville feels completely at ease and comfortable around. While Ginny showed Neville the power of inner strength and defying what is wrong in favor of what’s good and right, Luna showed Neville that there’s strength in being yourself. While Neville knows that Luna can take care of herself, he’s more concerned about her than any other in this war; he can’t help but feel protective over her.

⚔ Romilda Vane: Romilda is Neville’s greatest despair and regret. While Romilda had been one of the first (and most eager) to rejoin Neville’s revamped version of Dumbledore’s Army back in 1997, she was also the first to skirt away and leave after the tragic death of her mother and sister at the hands of Death Eaters. Neville can’t help but feel responsible for the deaths of her family, and wishes more than anything he could take everything back. But half the time these days, he doesn’t even know where Romilda is--or if she’d even want to forgive him.

the role of NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM is currently OPEN.

#diverse rp #hp rp #hp roleplay #lsrp #lsrpg #neville longbottom #char #male #order #open

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