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amplifyme · 4 months

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War stories

“It wasn’t just the wildfire. I’ve faced flames in battle before. The fires feed the rage. So does the fear.” Sandor casts a glance at Elder Brother. They are sitting at a table in the common hall, during the lull that comes between supper and evening prayers. A storm rages outside, a bitterly cold wind rattling the shutters of the windows and finding its way in through tiny seams and cracks in the walls, stirring the air around them with its icy fingers.

“Any soldier who claims he is not afraid is a liar, or a fool. Fear and anger are a dangerous combination,” Elder Brother offers, “especially when armed with steel.”

“As any man who’s ever faced me could attest - if I hadn’t put them all in the ground.” Sandor takes a sip of hot mulled wine and sets the driftwood cup back on the table. “Men were falling all around me. Burning or bleeding or both; dying. The Blackwater was on fire. I’d led a third sortie and knew we were beaten. I got what men I had left back inside the gate. And then the Imp decided what we’d already faced wasn’t sufficient. That’s when it happened: when I’d bloody well had enough.

“The Lannisters,” he spits, “frauds, every one of them, and me worst of all for my allegiance to them. I was somewhere I didn’t want to be, doing things I didn’t want to do. And for what? So I could be sent back out into the fires of the seven hells to fight for things I wanted no part of? So that sick little fuck could sit on his iron throne and continue mistreating her?”

It has been near two years since Sandor Clegane first came to the Quiet Isle and winter has fallen hard upon Westeros.

“It’s good she didn’t come with me then. I would have gotten us both killed within a fortnight. Though there are times I wonder if I didn’t leave her to a worse fate: her marriage to the dwarf and then accused of regicide.”

“You don’t believe her capable of murder?”

“I didn’t say that. Everyone is capable of murder. She meant to kill Joff once, just after he’d had her lord father’s head lopped off. I saw what she was thinking and stepped between them, stopped her. The little king never knew how close he came to flying that day. But his murder by poison? No. That requires a cruel cunning and the little bird don’t have it in her. Short-tempered she could be, but not calculating, not that way.”

“People change, brother. You know that better than most. You knew Sansa Stark when she was a child. You cannot know who she has become.”

“If it’s true that snake Baelish has her, may your gods be with her.”

[...]

He thinks on all the plans he’s made over the last two years, all the possible scenarios his mind has created on those long nights when he can’t sleep and lies awake instead, warmed by his memories of her. Sandor wipes a calloused hand across the battered wood of the table and quietly snickers at his strange quirk of fate.

“What makes you smile, brother?”

Sandor lifts his eyes and looks at the man across the table. “Do I have to share every bloody thought in my head? You should be tired of listening to me by now, old man.”

“Perhaps. But I grow weary of hearing my own voice. And it is pleasant to talk to someone other than my proctors.”

“You get tired of their pious bleating too, do you? Be honest now, you like swapping war stories with me. You were a soldier; that never leaves you.”

“I am a man of the Faith now – that is my life’s calling.”

Sandor gives him a long, reflective look, one which is returned in kind. It does not occur to him to wonder when being looked at straight on stopped being a rarity and became the norm. There are no eyes on this isle that will not willingly meet his. “Tell me: were you brought to your knees when you found your gods?” he asks.

These Scars We Wear, Chapter 6

#these scars we wear #sandor clegane #elder brother #sansan #asoiaf #fanfic #over a decade since this was completed #!!#still proud of this one

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twothpaste · 11 months

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and it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time

#m3 replay 2k23

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eloisemeadows · 9 months

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i'm begging you please to come home

Song/Skeleton: Cecilia

Name: Eloise Meadows

FC: Sophie Skelton

Age: 32

Birthday: December 24

Gender & Pronouns: Cis-woman, she/her

Sexual & Romantic Orientation: Heteroromantic & heterosexual

Occupation: Receptionist/Guest Services for the Birch Bay Travelodge

Neighbourhood: Born and raised in Birch Bay, currently residing in a tiny apartment in Willowdale

Positive Personality Trait(s): Warm, friendly, idealistic, independent, supportive

Negative Personality Trait(s): Stubborn, people-pleasing, emotionally-driven and oversensitive, envious, insecure

Extras: Here is a little baby playlist that is era-appropriate to set the vibe! Please Mister Postman - the Marvelettes Here Comes the Sun - the Beatles I Say a Little Prayer - Aretha Franklin Do You Believe in Magic - the Lovin’ Spoonful Chapel of Love - the Dixie Cups Wouldn’t It Be Nice - the Beach Boys I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch) - Four Tops I Will Follow Him - Peggy March I Walk the Line - Johnny Cash Love Me Do - the Beatles Yesterday - the Beatles You Can’t Always Get What You Want - the Rolling Stones I Want to Hold Your Hand - the Beatles You Send Me - Aretha Franklin Put Your Head on My Shoulder - Paul Anka Fly Me To the Moon - Frank Sinatra Then He Kissed Me - the Crystals All You Need is Love - the Beatles Blackbird - the Beatles A Sunday Kind of Love - Etta James If I Can Dream - Elvis Presley This Magic Moment - the Drifters Hold Me Tight - the Beatles Oh!Darling - the Beatles If I Fell - the Beatles Across the Universe - the Beatles And some songs that are not era-appropriate but fit the vibe: Mirrorball - Taylor Swift The Archer - Taylor Swift The Man - Taylor Swift The Lakes - Taylor Swift Lavender Haze - Taylor Swift Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift Mine - Taylor Swift (...you might be sensing a pattern here) She Used to be Mine - Sara Bareilles Fight Song - Rachel Platten Better Place - Rachel Platten Sunlight - Hozier I Can’t Breathe - Bea Miller Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol Waking up Slow - Gabrielle Aplin Grace - Kate Havnevik Stand in the Rain - Superchick Wildflowers - Tom Petty Dancing Queen - ABBA (1976 so CLOSE) Dandelions - Ruth B. Don’t You Worry Child - Swedish House Mafia (though I prefer the Madilyn Bailey cover) And a pinboard! https://www.pinterest.com/rachaelredridinghood/heavens-got-a-plan-for-you/ BIOGRAPHYtw: mentions of religion/religious upbringing (not detailed, just mentions), gender roles, war

In a home where she wanted for nothing, she somehow wanted for everything she did not have. From a young age, Eloise craved the great wide somewhere that only existed in the depths of her imagination. Eloise was born and raised into the warm embrace of what was the picturesque family: a dutiful father who worked hard to support their family, a doting mother who was there for every moment of every day of Eloise’s childhood, and Eloise was the final piece to the puzzle that was their white picket fence life. Her childhood was marked by dusty wooden pews on Sundays with lace gloves and stiff-skirts, hot humid days spent in her mother’s ever-so-loved-and-tended-to garden, brunches and tea parties with her mother’s friends at least once a week and ever-important trips to the library to add to the stacks of books in her room. While her upbringing was steeped in the belief that her purpose was to become the image of her mother, an adoring wife and mother tending her own family and her own garden with her own brunches, the books she read were something of a guiding light that showed her another way. Fairy-tales, adventures and stories of the great and fantastical had Eloise dreaming of life outside of what she had been raised to believe was proper and expected, though those dreams were generally squashed just as soon as they came to light; more time in the garden, more time spent with her mother and her friends, that was what she needed. Less books would do her good.

In truth, it was more her father that was to blame for her ambitions with the example that he set. His influence on his daughter was strong, and Eloise was always over-interested in his work at the hospital. His care and compassion for the people of their town ran deep and left a defining mark on her young mind. An interest in medicine sparked when Eloise was hardly in double-digits, and despite her father’s appreciation for his daughter’s interest in his work, her parents doubled down on their insistence that Eloise live a life of domesticity. Her father worked hard so that his wife and daughter would not have to, and that was the future he wanted for his daughter.

Eloise kept those dreams on the backburner, learning that it was easier to keep those thoughts to herself than to bring it up again. Her aspirations and dreams fell on deaf ears, and it was better to stay quiet than have that fire extinguished time and time again. She focused on school, still spending her time with her nose pressed into books at every available turn. In every way, it appeared that she had reluctantly conformed to her parents’ wishes, even if she still yearned to follow in her father’s footsteps. It was easier to go with the current than against it, even if it left Eloise feeling like her future wasn’t her own.

It was hard, trying to find purpose when her path in life felt so rigid and out of reach from what she wanted. He made it easier, giving Eloise something to focus on that wasn’t doom and gloom or frustration. He made her smile, and at first that was enough; soon, she realized that he and he alone could make her heart pound right out of her chest in a way she had only read about, and it was twice as meaningful because she had chosen him. Naturally, her parents didn’t approve, but that was something she chose to ignore. Truthfully, it gave her just the slightest bit of satisfaction. She’d yielded in so many other ways, but in this way she would not.

Her parents were displeased when she began to work for the Travelodge shortly after graduating from high school, but Eloise found joy in being able to provide for herself even in just a part-time manner. Their opinions were still ringing loud and clear like church bells on Sunday: it was temporary, they insisted, as she’d marry and have a family of her own soon and then she’d be able to stay at home and live the life they dreamed. Of course, every time she brought up marriage or engagement or anything long-term with the man she’d chosen, she was met with objections. He did not fit the bill they’d ordered, and in their view was just as temporary as her job.

Even with the sense of fulfillment from her part-time gig and the happy hours spent with who she believed to be her one true love (just like in those fairytales, all those years ago), she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something missing. The call towards medicine was still so strong, though she’d never even applied to college. She knew her parents would never approve, and despite her age she still sought their approval. She ached and longer for her life to mean something and knew she would never find purpose from behind a service desk, or with a stupid cross-stitch or book in hand on a porch swing.

And then came the war, and the draft. And then he was gone, and what meaning she’d found for herself in life felt as though it was slipping through her fingers. Time to break out those old and well-worn rosary beads, keep them in her pocket, taking time to finger through them during quiet moments with the thought of his quick and safe return the only thing on her mind. Eloise missed him in a physical way that she could not escape, and adjusting to contact only through letters was strange and took more time than she liked to admit. Work was a welcome distraction, though even that couldn’t help her thoughts from wandering: what would happen if she lost him? Who would she even be if she lost him? Best not to think about it, but she’d never been good at keeping her thoughts in line with what was best for her. Best to put her energy into those letters, writing her heart onto the paper to send away to him. Her heart was always safest with him, after all, even in a warzone. So she’d pour it all out for him, bleeding onto the paper along with the lipstick marks and a few spritzes of the perfume he’d always liked best.

They’d be married when he got back, they’d decided. There was no reason to wait any longer, even if her parents disapproved. Hell, maybe she’d finally mail those college applications away finally and take a dive at two dreams.

If he made it back. When.

#stillwater.eloise #bio #i need to redo my tags but this will do for now lol

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kissycat · 1 year

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And it came to me then

That every plan

Is a tiny prayer to Father Time

#and i knew that you were a truth / i would rather lose / than to never have lain beside #audio #p #Spotify

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85wpm · 11 months

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I've been quite the hypochondriac lately just cuz I've been nursing a cough that won't go away since last month and i hate queueing up to see the doctor but yesterday in the midst of contemplating what sickness i might have i was hit by a flash of clarity that maybe what ends me is not a slow wasting sickness with the luxury of goodbyes but an unexpected accident that robs you of last farewells and suddenly the line in What Sarah Said "And it came to me then / That every plan / Is a tiny prayer / to father time" never made more sense.

TLDR: life is short like really really short so how ready are you to die?

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pi-cloud · 14 days

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And it came to me then, that every plan, was a tiny prayer to father time

- ("What Sarah Said" by Death Cab for Cutie)

#time #quotes #song #song quotes #life quotes #life #aestethic #dark aesthetic #dark academia #death #fav lyrics #favorite quotes #beautiful quote

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randomfusilier2 · 7 months

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And it came to me then

That every plan

Is a tiny prayer to father time

As I stared at my shoes

In the ICU

That reeked of piss and 409

And I rationed my breaths

As I said to myself

That I'd already taken too much today

As each descending peak

On the LCD

Took you a little farther away from me

Amongst the vending machines

And year old magazines

In a place where we only say goodbye

It sung like a violent wind

That our memories depend

On a faulty camera in our minds

And I knew that you were truth

I would rather lose

Than to have never lain beside at all

And I looked around

At all the eyes on the ground

As the TV entertained itself

'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room

Just nervous paces bracing for bad news

And then the nurse comes round

And everyone lifts their heads

But I'm thinking of what Sarah said

That love is watching someone die

So who's gonna watch you die?

death cab for cutie :: what sarah said

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chaosmenu · 1 year

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anyway. and it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time. and i rationed my breaths as i said to myself that i'd already taken too much today, as each descending peak on the lcd took you a little further away from me. it stung like a violent wind that our memories depends on a faulty camera in our minds. and i knew that you were a truth that i'd rather lose than to have never lain beside at all. cuz theres no comfort in the waiting room, just nervous pacers bracing for bad news. but im thinking of what sarah said, that love is watching someone die, so whos gonna watch you die?

#op #lyricposting

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outdatedandoverwhelmed · 2 years

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“It came to me then, that every plan, is a tiny prayer to Father Time”

I wanted this tattoo before. I need it now.

#Spotify

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ifwebefriends · 2 years

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Song Lyrics that make me a bit crazy Part 1/?

“Brace myself for the goodbye ‘cause that’s all I’ve ever known, but you took me by surprise and said ‘I’ll never leave you alone’” -Mine, Taylor Swift

“Take all the courage you have left wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head.” - Little Lion Man, Mumford and Sons

“And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time” -What Sarah Said, Death Cab for Cutie

“Are you feeling nervous? Are you having fun? It’s almost over. It’s just begun. Don’t overthink this, look in my eye. Don’t be scared. Don’t be shy. Come on in, the waters fine.” -All Eyes on Me, Bo Burnham

“You want something that’s constant, and I only wanted to be me. But watch, even the stars above, things that seem still are still changing.” -Still, Ben Folds

“Happiness is anyone and anything at all that’s loved by you.” -Happiness, You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown

“I am the one thing in life I can control. I am inimitable I am an original. I’m not falling behind or running late. I’m not standing still I am lying in wait.” - Wait For It, Hamilton

“Never gonna find anything to change my mind, famous last lines of a fool. Just when you think you’re a chain with just one link, something comes to tip you off of your stool. Hello, hello. My my my what have we here?” -Hello Hello, Elton John

#song lyrics that make me a bit crazy #songs #song #lyrics #music

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take-a-break-94 · 2 years

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And it came to me then

That every plan

Is a tiny prayer to father time

What Sarah Said - Death Cab For Cutie

#death cab for cutie #what sarah said #couple #hug #tunnel #undeground #love

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disregardandfelicity · 3 years

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And it came to me then That every plan Is a tiny prayer to father time

Nicky/Joe + What Sarah Said, Death Cab for Cutie

#the old guard #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #kaysonova #tog edit #nicky x joe #joe x nicky #sometimes you dont listen to a song for a decade then you remember it and make two edits inspired by it in one month #i didnt know how to gif in high school so you have to deal with my emo gifsets now instead #Luca Marinelli #marwan kenzari #nicky/joe #joe/nicky

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anythingwriter · 3 years

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How Could You?

Bonnie Gold x reader

Warnings: death, angst, probably lots of swearing, teeny tiny bit of sexual assault. Requested by @soggypancak

Word count: 2,515 of pure trash

*My first imagine in over a year! Feedback is always welcome. I’m sorry if this sucks lol, it’s been a while!*

*********************************************

The cold morning air made y/n shiver as she snuggled closer to Bonnie. Unintentionally they both fell asleep by the fire the night before, looking up at the stars as they talked about their love for each other, and how they hope to have a future. Aberama came out of his caravan that night going to put the fire out, but when he saw both the young adults curled up together asleep being warmed by that exact fire, he didn’t have the heart to wake them, so instead he put a blanket over them and admired their peaceful faces as they slept, praying nothing would ever corrupt them. Oh how he wishes he prayed harder.

“Bonnie,” y/n mumbled, she didn’t want to wake yet, but she was too cold to sleep.

“No.” Bonnie said.

Y/n giggled at her boyfriend, knowing he was tired as well but if she couldn’t sleep neither could Bonnie, she wouldn’t allow it. “I can’t sleep Bonnieeee.” She violently shook his shoulders with each word, hoping he would at least open his eyes.

“It’s pretty easy babe, just close your eyes,” Bonnie said with a smirk on his face.

Y/n gasped, and rolled over so she was laying on top of Bonnie and she pinned both his arms above his head. He finally opened his eyes and looked up at his girlfriend with his sly smirk on his face, one of the reasons she fell in love with him.

“That was pretty rude babe,” she mocked him. She stared down at him, admiring him, making sure she would always remember his face and every small detail about it. She let go of his arms and caressed the almost faded bruise on his chin from one of his previous fights. She loved him, and she knew the feeling would be forever. The moment didn’t last long enough for her though, Bonnie almost immediately reached up and grabbed his girlfriend's waist and quickly flipped them over so he was on top. Y/n let out a shriek at the sudden movement and couldn’t help the giggles that slipped out.

Bonnie too looked down at her like she did him, his eyes looking down at her with nothing but love and adoration for his girl. He smiled at her and she smiled back. “ I love you,” he told her. Y/n felt her heart swell at the declaration, knowing by the look on his face he truly meant it.

“I love you too.” She leaned upwards and gave Bonnie a kiss, it was slow and lazy because of the morning still clouding their judgement, but they both felt the love the other poured into it. Bonnie gave y/n’s hips a tight squeeze and when she gasped he took the opportunity and caressed her tongue with his. Y/n leant into the kiss even more, and moaned when their tongues met again, Bonnie winning the fight for dominance. The two broke apart with a jolt when they heard someone clearing their throat, and looked up to see Aberama looking at the two with a smirk. Y/n blushed and hid her face in Bonnies neck, while him and his father let out laughs together.

“Mornin’ love birds!” Y/n groaned at Aberamas loud voice, it still being too early for her. “Jesus Abe, could you be any louder?” “Course I could sweetheart, but I don’t wanna scare off all the deer,” he smiled down at her. Y/n rolled her eyes and pushed Bonnie off of her to sit up.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” She asked. Bonnie stood up and dusted off his clothes and looked at his father, wondering the same thing.

“I’m not sure, we have everythin’ we need for a while, maybe a relaxing day? Sound good?”

Bonnie and y/n both nodded their heads, needing a break from the gypsy life. And with everything going on with helping the Blinders, they were both exhausted. Especially Bonnie. Bonnie looked down and smiled at y/n, reaching out a hand to help her up. She gratefully took it, and stumbled when Bon pulled her up with unnecessary force. He quickly steadied her and let out a quiet laugh, and gave her a peck on the lips. He turned and smiled at his father and led her towards their caravan.

When they both were inside Bonnie shut the door so they could get changed in fresh clothes for the day. Y/n undressed out of her clothes from yesterday and looked around to see one of Bonnies sweaters. She reached for it, knowing it would keep her warm for the day.

The man she loved was staring at her, admiring how beautiful she looked in his clothes. She could feel him staring, and she smiled to herself.

“It’s rude to stare Bon.”

He shook his head with a fond smile on his face and spoke back to her “It's hard not to when you look so beautiful in my shirt.”

She turned and looked at him, with a look of disbelief on her face, “You flatter me Bon.” They both let out a laugh. He reached forwards and pulled her close to his chest. He looked down at her smaller frame and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He loved her so much, he didn’t know what he would do without her, and neither did she.

She looked at him like he hung her the moon and the stars, and he looked at her like she was an angel from above.

“I love you Bonnie, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

“Luckily for you hun, you’ll never have to know because I’ll be with you forever.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Bon, especially now with you working for that bastard Shelby.” Y/n could feel rage slowly boiling inside of her, she loved Bonnie but she hated him working for the Thomas Shelby. And he knew that, he knew the pain and anger he was putting her through, and he had his reasons why. He was doing it for them, to secure a future for them. A future they dream about, a future they pray for.

“I can keep this one babe, you know I would never leave you. Not until my last breath, and that’s years away from now!”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

The two embraced each other in a hug, and then they finished getting ready, for a day of relaxing.

~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~~~~~~

Aberama smiles as he listens to the laughter of his son and his girl echo through the woods. Never had he seen his son so happy, never has he seen his smile so big. And it was all thanks to her. The girl Aberama grew fond of, even thinking of her as his daughter. He knew nothing would break them apart, even if they were just young kids.

Their moments of peace were interrupted when a gun shot rang through the woods, piercing Aberama in the shoulder and he fell with a thud. Y/n let out a scream and jumped, Bonnie quickly shielding her with his own body. He wanted to run to his father and check on him, but his instincts took over and he needed to protect y/n from whoever was there.

“Hello, hello, we are the Billy Boys,”

Bonnie looked and saw men emerging from the woods, and he panicked not knowing who they were. How did they know where they are? Who are these men?

Y/n peaked out from Bonnies chest and saw the men and her heart sank. She was scared. A feeling she hadn’t felt since she got with Bonnie, always knowing he would protect her. She gripped on to Bonnies shirt tighter, and whispered his name to him.

“Shhh,” he turned around and shoved her in their caravan and grabbed his gun. “Stay here,” he ordered.

She didn’t want him to go, what if he got shot like his father? She couldn’t lose him, he promised.

“Bonnie please don-”

She was interrupted as he grabbed her face and kissed her. He needed her to be quiet, he didn’t want them to find her. He had to protect her.

“I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and asked him “you promise?”

He looked at her tear stained cheeks and hesitated before answering. He reached forward and wiped another falling tear from her eye,

“I- I promise.” He gave her the best reassuring smile he could and walked back out.

Bonnie walked out with his gun raised at the singing men. Why are they singing?

“Drop the peashooter son,” the one in the front said. Bonnie assumed he was the leader, and so did y/n from her spot in the caravan, watching through the small window.

He did, knowing it probably wouldn’t be good if he didn’t listen.

The men walked over to Aberama and stomped on his chest, close to where he was shot. Y/n audibly gasped from her spot and immediately cursed herself. Bonnie heard her, and he prayed that these men didn’t.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked.

The man smiled a Bonnie, a smile of nothing but pure evil. “Who am I is the wrong question son, who do we have hiding in the wagon?”

Bonnies prayer wasn’t answered, because obviously the man had heard you too.

“Open the door lads!”

“No!” Bonnie scrambled towards the door as fast as he could, only for the men’s leader to grab Bonnies dropped gun and brutally hit him in the jaw with it. Bonnie could feel the bones break and immediately tasted the blood. Aberama groaned from his spot on the ground, trying to reach his son.

Two of the men opened the caravan door and reached for y/n, who had tears running down her face at the sight of Bonnie and Abe, having seen everything from her useless hiding spot.

“Bo- Bonnie.” She cried. He looked over to her and tried to give her his best smile, even with his broken jaw.

The men forcefully yanked her out and threw her to the ground. She whimpered and tried to crawl to Bonnie, only to be kicked in her back and fall to the ground.

Bonnie saw red, he tried to stand up just to be pushed down again. The leader of the group laughed.

“I see, she’s your gypsy whore isn’t she? How did scum like you,” he paused and reached for y/n and pulled her up to his chest, “pull a fine piece of ass like this?” He reached down and grabbed y/n’s ass, and she cried as more tears fell.

Bonnie now had tears falling too, he tried so hard to get back to her. But every time, he was forcefully kicked back down.

Y/n zoned out, too focused on Bonnies face. The only words she managed to make out were Thomas Shelby, fighter, and over.

She looked up when she heard the last word. Over? What did they mean over?

She screamed and tried to break free when they hit Bonnie again, her and Aberama could do nothing but watch. They both screamed and cried Bonnies name as the men tied him to a post, and y/n realized it was a cross. Her heart sank, she knew what was happening.

Bang

She jumped and fell to the ground when she heard it, knowing her Bonnie was gone. She knew what they had done, he was dead.

The man stuffed a paper in Bonnies jacket, his lifeless body just hanging there. A message, for Thomas Shelby. She knew something was going to happen when he hired Abe and Bonnie, nothing good comes from the Brummie Gangster. He brings death to everyone he meets.

The men walked away, singing their song again.

Aberama was the first over to Bonnie, screaming and crying his sons name. Yelling at him as if he could hear. His son. It was the worst pain he had ever felt.

Y/n was still on the ground, shaking and crying for her loss. She couldn’t look at him, it wasn’t her Bonnie anymore, it was just his shell. His soul and spirit were gone, there was no bringing him back.

Aberama looked over and his heart broke for the young girl. He may have lost his son, but she lost her everything. Her boyfriend, her best friend and all her firsts. Abe untied Bonnies body, and carefully laid him down on the ground. With tears still streaming down his face, he walked over to y/n and gently helped her up and walked her over to Bon. She may not of wanted to, but she needed to say goodbye.

Y/n sat next to Bonnies body, too afraid to look just yet. As soon as she looked at his lifeless face she turned the other way and hurled up everything she had eaten that day. She began to dry heave, unable to breathe from crying. Aberama rubbed her back and soothed the young girl. It felt like hours but after only minutes, she had calmed down and thanked Aberama. He walked away, giving her a moment alone.

She looked at his face, almost unrecognizable from all the blood. After moments of just staring, a new feeling took over her body.

Anger

She was angry with Bonnie for dying, angry at the stupid fucking singing men, angry at herself for making the noise in the caravan.

Maybe, just maybe if she was silent this never would of happened, he would still be alive.

Y/n reached for his shoulders and violently shook him, just like she had that morning, only now the shakes were full of anguish and not love.

“Ho- how could you Bonnie! You promised me, you said you would never leave! Y- yo- you promised! HOW COULD YOU?!”

She screamed and cried, her yells slowly turning to whispers. Her energy drained. The days events taking their toll on her.

Aberama heard her screams and rushed to the young girls side. He looked at his sons body and closed his eyes as he scooped y/n into his arms, slowly rocking himself and the girl. His shirt became damp, and he didn’t care.

For hours they sat there, in each other’s arms crying for their loss, both vowing to get revenge for their Bonnie.

As Aberama stood up to leave, y/n did as well. Abe left to do something and she had a feeling she knew what, but she wasn’t going to question it.

As his figure faded into the woods, y/n’s hand reached down to her stomach, feeling the ever so small bump…

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vickyvicarious · 3 years

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A short late-night ficlet based off an ask sent to @captainkirkk that I saw reblogged by @muffinlance .

Now on AO3: the place you need to reach

What if Azula had been the one to burn Zuko?

Zuko thought - he'd thought it would be General Bujing. It made sense, that was who he'd disrespected, that was what he had done that was wrong, speaking out of turn when he should've known better -

When he said he wasn't afraid to fight, he had thought it would be against someone who had done wrong. Someone who would hurt the very people that he was supposed to protect. Someone who the Fire Lord felt it his duty to support, but - but not a person who mattered. No one who would propose such a plan could really matter.

He took a deep breath and stood, turning to face his opponent. Ready to strike them down.

And Azula smiled at him, from what suddenly seemed very far away.

"Father," Zuko said. He wanted to yank his head away, to stare at the seat of honor where Ozai sat watching, but his sister's smile was so very sharp. "Father, I thought - I don't -"

"You will fight for your honor," his father said. Azula began walking forward, each step measured and slow. "Show that you are not weaker than a mere child. Learn respect from the princess who has always shown it."

Zuko watched Azula approach, steady and smiling. Her hair pulled up and back, her hands relaxed at her sides. She was too young to fight an Agni Kai. Truthfully, Zuko was on the verge of being too young, himself - but it wasn't right for her, barely past her tenth year. It had never been done, not that he knew of.

He hadn't disrespected her. He hadn't spoken a word to her.

"Fight me, Prince Zuko," Azula said, close enough now to touch. Her smile was a poison thing. She looked happy to be here. Proud of herself.

Of course she felt proud, she was about to defeat him in front of all the world. To dishonor him, to demonstrate that the prince was not only a fool but a weakling at that, unable to match his own younger sibling. Zuko felt such a rage flare up in him suddenly, such a hatred that fire was sparking off his hands before they were even fully raised.

"I spoke with the Fire Nation's best interest at heart," he said, shifting his stance into a ready position. "I meant no disrespect!"

His voice rose to a shout against his will. His fingers were trembling. He wanted to turn, to face his father and ask openly for forgiveness. Azula shouldn't be here. She was too young, she hadn't been in the room. She would not be here unless Ozai was very angry.

Zuko had not fought his sister in years, since she had moved on to more advanced sets and a new firebending tutor more skilled than his own. Even so long ago, she had always won. Everyone in the Inner Palace knew the young princess was a prodigy, far outstripping her talentless brother.

Azula's regal smile slid wider, showed her teeth. She finally lifted her hands.

"It's alright, brother," she said. Kept her eyes locked on his: "I will teach you respect."

Zuko moved first, feeling something like a sob building in his chest. He already knew he would lose. He knew he would never win against her.

She didn't tire. Didn't err. Moved deadly, quick and precise and her fire bled blue through the center of his own, again and again.

Zuko did his best. He didn't hesitate, didn't falter even when his techniques were shown to be lacking, again and again and brutally still more. She knocked him to the floor each time, and then stepped back.

Waited for him to get back up, every time.

Zuko did. He was sweating hard, his muscles aching, his heart racing. Small burns dotted his torso, souvenirs of a hundred successful hits. His hair was falling into his eyes.

For her part, Azula still looked perfect. The picture of an honorable warrior. Her breathing remained steady, her eyes shining bright. She grinned at Zuko as though they were playing a game, as though Mom would be along soon and scold them for playing too rough.

Zuko's breath came harder and harder. It was so loud in the quiet of the hall. He knew he was scowling, knew he looked a mess. He knew they could all see how this would end. He knew, knew without ever looking once, that Ozai would be frowning, ashamed of his heir's shameful display.

It wasn't fair. Azula shouldn't be here. She was too young, he hadn't wronged her, she was too strong for him and Father knew that, everyone knew he couldn't defeat her -

She wouldn't have fought to enter the meeting. She wouldn't have spoken out of turn. She wouldn't ever show such a disgraceful performance as this, skidding down to her knees yet again, sobbing on a harsh breath out, shaking all over. Getting back up.

Azula knew respect. Zuko knew only that he couldn't give up.

He hated her for letting him rise every time. For never dealing the final blow. It was nothing but cruelty, but she kept smiling, she looked so so very proud -

This was no Agni Kai anymore.

Zuko could barely produce a single flame. He couldn't think, couldn't remember even the most basic forms. He even tried to tackle her, graceless and inelegant and no honor to anyone involved. Of course he failed.

The deathly silence of the crowd had vanished, a low murmur filling the hall instead. It wasn't proper, an Agni Kai deserved a respectful hush, but Zuko wasn't fighting an Agni Kai anymore. He didn't know what he was fighting. He only knew that he couldn't stop, couldn't give in, couldn't let himself fall and stay fallen because if he did -

If he did, Father -

He had been crying for a while now. Azula wasn't smiling anymore.

Her form was still perfect, but her face had grown pale. She didn't wait as long for him to rise from each new blow; dove back in the instant he staggered upright, hit harder each time. Her fire was so hot against his bare skin, new burns on his chest pulling with each gasping breath. He could tell she was growing frustrated. Knew she wanted him to just give up.

He didn't know if she understood why he couldn't. If his opponent had been anyone else, any other person, he would. He'd let himself slide to the floor and accept his defeat with grace. He'd still lose his honor, still fall far in the eyes of his people, but he would be seen as a prince who'd made a mistake and could learn from it. The consequences wouldn't last forever.

If he allowed his sister to defeat him like this, in front of everyone like this, with his honor on the line - if Zuko surrendered here, Ozai would never look his way again. He couldn't explain how he knew this; he'd simply understood, from the moment he saw Azula. His father had chosen this test for him, had ordered him to learn respect, and if he lost here he would lose everything.

Azula hit harder and harder and hotter, her eyes panicked now. She was so smart, had been a genius from the cradle. She'd always been better than Zuko, had always been the clever one who thought things through to their conclusions. How was it she hadn't seen the ramifications of this from the start?

Everyone knew an Agni Kai could only end in surrender or death.

Azula sent him tumbling again, rolling to a painful halt on the edge of the raised platform. Zuko gasped, choked down bile. When he lifted his head he saw the Fire Lord, seated directly across from him. His face was shadowed, beyond the reach of the torches, but he sat tall and strong.

Zuko stared into those shadows as he dragged himself to his knees once again, thought a tiny formless prayer, just please. He didn't know who he was asking, or for what.

"Azula," the Fire Lord said, voice firm and clear. "Teach him."

Zuko didn't have any time to move. She stepped in front of him, blocking his view of his father. He had no time, no strength to rise anymore regardless, could only look up at her and -

And she looked so scared -

But her fist was drawn back and burning the brightest blue. It shot forward and Zuko was too tired to dodge. He'd known all along it would end like this.

He forgot not to scream.

The Fire Lord pronounced that Prince Zuko had shown great dishonor during his Agni Kai. He had refused to stop fighting; his inability to acknowledge the superior strength of his opponent was a shameful display that only highlighted his own weakness. As punishment, he was banished. Only when he captured the Avatar would he regain his honor and be allowed to return home.

All agreed that Princess Azula had shown great skill and wisdom. Though only a child, she had completely outmatched her older opponent, and her future clearly held great promise. Her only error was small, hardly worth mentioning, a perfectly understandable fatigue after such a drawn-out battle: the final blow losing its distinctive blue heat, fading to a cooler orange just before it hit.

#atla #atla fic #zuko #azula #fire sibs #my fic #bc my first thought was 'he wouldnt refuse to fight azula'

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Little Witch - Part 21

The Darkling x Reader

The atmosphere in the Palace was welcoming and enjoyable yet you couldn't help but dampen the mood of those around you. Your smiles were visible fake, your laughs as forced as the diplomacy of the evening. It was hard to focus on anything but the Queen's request, you could still feel her cold touch on your hands, could still hear her voice as if she was standing next to you. Some would say being in the presence of the Royals was a blessing by the Saints, but to you it was a sudden blight; a curse.

The duties and obligations you had were out the window now as you looked for the particular head of red flame hair, completely ignoring the Kerch ambassador and his slurring words of trade agreements.

Did Genya tell her General that the charming Lantsov Prince was soon to be wed to the Deputy of the Second-army? Or did she keep that part to herself? You had a feeling it was the latter given Aleksander's behavior earlier but what if he knew- What if his obedient spy told him everything and he was looking at your predicament as an opportunity, even though it would hurt you to the core and shatter your moral values. There's nothing he wouldn't do for more power.

'Deputy Y/L/N, I presume?' A man in a military uniform adorned with colorful medals approached you from the side, silently shooeing the Kerch man away and taking his place despite your obvious air of hostility. You were in no mood for diplomacy.

'The one and only.'

'So I have heard.' You could make out the smallest tinge of an accent reminiscent of a Fjerdan rhythm through the spoken words. His blonde hair and long beard tell-tale signs of his druskelle service and enough for your anger to flare. 'Tell me, what kind of Grisha are you?' You didn't miss the disgust dripping from the word as he forced it through his teeth. No doubt he hated himself for being here.

'A powerful one.'

'More powerful than the Sun-Summoner?'

'Much.'

'I won't forget that.'

'I hope you don't. Tell your people too, it'll save me some time and perhaps some lives.'

'Is that a threat Deputy?'

'Yes' He snorted and looked around the lively room.

'Fjerda isn't here to fight tonight, we're here to party. I thought it would be the same for you, no?'

'I don't keep peace with people who wish my kind dead.'

'Neither does your General. But the West, I'm not too sure they're on the same page'

You bit back the urge to smack the tall man stone-cold. The West was a tricky situation that had been playing heavily on your mind for as long as you could remember. Although it was Ravka, Grisha were no longer safe there. Zlatan was coercing with the Fjerdans to capture Grisha in exchange for military backup and as much as it angered you to keep the First-Army General alive, it would create a whole other problem if he was found dead.

'West Ravka is Ravka. All Zlatan is is a mere General of the First-Army. He's no King.'

'You would be surprised. People would listen to a stableboy if he spoke of truth and justice.'

'And would Fjerda back him up too?'

He smirked and gave a nod of his head in amusement at your raging eyes. 'You drüsje get so worked up over words. It's actions that matter.'

'Not here in Ravka. Remember where and what you are. Then think of what half of this room can do to you' Without so much as a goodbye, you walked away from him with a huff and continued looking for Genya. You hadn't even seen Aleksander make an appearance yet but you didn't think you wanted to see him, not after your conversation with the Queen.

We wish for you to marry my son

Every time you thought you had shaken the haunting request, it came back with a shiver up your spine. It went against everything you ever believed in. You hated the crown, the Lantsov line, you hated the Ravka they created. But this didn't feel like something you could reject. It wasn't a proposal, it was an alliance.

You turned your head to the doors and watched as Zoya clambered up the stairs in her stunning blue silk kefta. Behind her, a Suli performer climbed up on her silks as if it were all she'd ever known. Her body swung gracefully and smoothly, not batting an eyelid at all her observers. It was memorizing and distracting, something for which you were thankful.

'Haven't you got some Dukes and Ministers to babysit?' Zoya appeared beside you, eyeing up the empty glass in your hand.

'Let them roam free for the night'

'As long as they're not groveling over me'

'Because your presence is so much more captivating than the Sun-Summoners' You rolled your eyes and made your way to get a new, full, glass.

'Thank you for finally admitting it'

'Where's Genya Saffin?'

She made a face and took a glass to, bringing it up to her lips and taking a small sip.

'With Alina. Why?'

'Oh nothing, just some details to hash out about Marie attending dinner' You covered up. 'I spoke with a Fjerdan dignitary. He had no problem hiding that West Ravka is coming to their aid.' Zoya was a good soldier and a great tactician, if you were to tell anyone such sensitive information, it would definitely be Zoya.

'I overheard a Zemeni ambassador say they were spotted at Zlatan's rallies. He's raising his ranks whilst our own coffers run out. We can't afford a war with each of our borders'

'Try telling the King that' The Lantsov King. Nikolai's father. Nikolai.

'Saints are you alright?' Zoya looked at you with wide eyes, then to the broken glass crumbling in your hand. You had been clutching it so hard you managed to smash it and slice the palm of your hand.

'Oh umm- I need a moment' You disposed of the glass on a nearby table and basically ran to the nearest washroom. Crimson red blood dripped slowly from your fingers as you tried to keep it from staining your kefta while you closed the door behind you.

This was the first moment since your talk with the Queen where you were alone. Truly alone, no ambassador looming over your shoulder or a Duke at your side. Alexander, Alina, and Genya were still nowhere to be seen and the demonstration would begin shortly but all you wanted to do was stay in this tiny and stuffy room, shut off from everything. You washed your hand down with water, hissing in pain as the water tinted red and carried away the signs of injury. The quarters were quiet and calm, a stark contrast to the liveliness in the hall not often seen in the Little Palace.

The Little Palace tended to be quiet, but the Grand Palace was different. The Grand Palace. The winter home of the Lantsovs. Nikolai. Marriage.

The gentle tears came like a surprise, rolling down your face with grace. 'Fuck me' was all you could say as your head rested on your uninjured hand. You still felt exhausted and overwhelmed now even more so but you liked to think you hid it well. What good was a Deputy in emotional turmoil at a party full of political vultures?

The door to the small space suddenly opened and none other than Genya Saffin walked in with ease only she possessed. She looked at you in shame then fixed her attention on her shoes, not meeting your broken gaze.

'I take it you spoke with Tatiana?'

'Why didn't you tell General Kirigan?' You sniffed and wrapped your hand in a handkerchief, not bothering to wipe away the tears that you continued to cry.

'I felt it wasn't my place'

'Why?' Your voice cracked, slightly distracting you but the meaning to your question was obvious. Why me?

'She wished to squelch his bastardry rumors with your standing reputation.'

'Does he know?'

'She wrote him, but he has yet to respond.'

'Why not Vasily? Is it to make sure a Grisha never sits on the throne?'

She stayed quiet, toying with her sleeve. 'She says you have the air of a false Queen but the mind of a demon'

'Nothing new there' You laughed and straightened up, using the handkerchief on your hand to pat your face dry, diminishing any last sign of your weak moment away. 'Is Alina ready?' She looked at you with pure pity on her face, the compassion bursting on her face busting at its seams.

'Yes. Last I saw she was with the General.'

'Thank you Ms.Saffin'

***

You didn't mean to miss the demonstrations, but you took your time walking back to the main hall anyway. It was only when you saw the darkened room and searing light did you stop dead in your tracks at the door. Alina stood there on the podium, the image of a Saint. Her black and gold kefta shimmered in her light beautifully, illuminating her face and smile. She was glowing. Her powers had brought her not only luxurious life but good health, something everyone prays for. The black looked well on her too. It set her apart from the sea of bright keftas and gowns. In a Palace full of Grisha and powerful members of society, only Alina and Aleksander wore the black keftas, not even you wore it tonight and it made you feel surprisingly insecure.

He stood to her side, enthralled by her show of strength and skill. He was fascinated with her, it showed in his eyes and on his face but it definitely wasn't a facade. Even watching them from afar you could see that he looked at her as if she was his Sun, the only thing capable of lighting up his night sky.

You didn't know how to look at her. Everyone around you was worshipping her, whispering silent prayers to Sankta Alina: the Sun Saint, but you stayed frozen and still. You were never faithful to the Saints, they never listened to you, so what good would pledging your allegiance to Alina be if you knew Aleksander planned to extort her?

The whole room was kneeling now, heads bent down in symbols of submission yet you stood. No doubt you stuck out like a sore thumb, but a leader does not bow to anybody, not even the Saints. He momentarily turned his head to look at you but his eyes were far from the softness he gave Alina. They spoke more than his smooth words ever could yet this time the silent exchange did nothing to soothe your muddled head.

A tap on your shoulder caused you to break your burning gaze away from the summoners and to a guard instead.

'Deputy, we have 2 First-Army soldiers who claim to have found Morozova's Stag' The Stag. Just my luck.

'Tell the General, I have no business with the stag' You waved him off and returned your stare back to the room, scanning the crowd like a hawk when her eyes caught yours. Queen Tatiana was looking through to your soul, demolishing any confidence you could muster at that moment.

Marry my son.

----------------

Part 22

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!) @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy @carlywhomever @allisjustok @keepdaydreamingbb @luciadiosa

#shadow and bone #the darkling #imagine #the darkling x reader #ben barnes #grisha #alexander #alexander morozova #alina starkov #fanfic #general kirigan x reader #six of crows

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