𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 .

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄        ;             𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑     /          @gunmade      .                             𝐋𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊      /       @irnmaw     .                  𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐘𝐌𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈      /     @sunwilts​       .

𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 '𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃            beneath their feet and be heard in echoes throughout the town       ---      almost as if time stilled itself for this moment only      .       the silence spoke of words unsaid     ,      and the words that had been said spoke of a heartbreak she could not mend nor tend to     .            “         silas     ,     please      ---        “           she breathes his name     ,      heart aching and leaden against her breastbone     ,      but is left inable to do much more than straighten her posture and bite back the apologies that threaten to spew out from her rose - tinted brims     .      words held little weight now     .                 “           i never meant to hurt you      .....      and if i had known       ......        “             she stops herself      ,     𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 '𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄      ,       and swallows them down with a bitter laugh     .        what ifs are what isn’t      ,       and what could be’s is not what would be      .      she had to accept such or she’d drown     .               “              it doesn’t matter now     ,      does it      ?        what’s done is done and i hope ..... i hope one day we can be at least friends       .        we can’t really avoid one another here      ,       can we      ?         “           she was drowning      ,      regardless      . 

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑         and that mirror was none other than the poor soul before her      .      empires could rise and fall at her feet     ,      and she would feel every pillar ‘pon her shoulders     .       amara knew this suffering      ---      this burden all too well     .       words would not soothe the flesh stripped raw     ,      or the heart that grew weary and worn at the edges     .       no      ,     words would do very little to quiet the unrelenting war inside of her      ---      but a friend of a shared kinship      ......     it had to be of some relief     ,     surely    .            “           that isn’t how this works    ,      bonnie      .....             “             hands retreat     ,       palms up and digits lowered    ,      in an attempt to be kind in a moment of darkness      .       gracious     .            “        you can’t run from them     ---     from this     ,        they will always be there waiting      .        this is your life now      ,       bonnie      ......       i’m sorry     .             “           𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄     ,       sweetening little of what lain ahead for the witch      .       she smiles     ,      somber in nature      ,       and hopes this will not be her eternity    .       the witch didn’t deserve it      . 

ARC      :      𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 

@niiklausx​        asked         :           “ is there anything real about you? “

𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐃         on her equally bemused companion    ,     their flame - kissed tresses bringing forth a sore recollection of trembling blood stained hands and the fading of hope wailing from splintered brims in the thick of night     .      memories long best forgotten    ,    she surmises    .              “        hmm      ?        “            she jerks to a start     ,        time winding forward once more to the present      ,      reminding her of the situation at hand       .              “           ---     oh      ,        the elevator    !        well     ,      we cannot do much more than sit here and wait until someone arrives to help    ,     unfortunately     .           “             her half - hearted attempts to be reassuring falling false on her own ears     ,       𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒     .      even if she was to be enclosed without an escape in a room akin to a box      .         akin to a crate...... akin to a prison        .         she had to keep steady     .       always       .           “         did you have somewhere you needed to be     ?          “

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆         been long left dormant ‘neath her flesh     ;     stirring a yearning time could not dim from body nor mind    .     she had longed for it to be otherwise     ,      had hoped she would not be betrayed once more by a heart that seemingly learns no lesson     .      wishful thinking     ,     she supposes now    ,     for her heart has always been her guide     .      her light in a dark oasis    .          “      thank you    ,      “       she murmurs     ,     gaze fixed upon the clay mug made anew     ,       attempting to suppress a shiver lengthening from the tips of her toes to the top of her spine as his hand reaches for hers      .      they were as remembered to be     ,       firm but mindful in nature     .      kind     ,     even    .      𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐓     .      loathed the strands of time for it     .     perhaps     ,      more so in that moment than in any before as he inquired about the jewel lain upon her left hand      .        chipped mug and spilled coffee long since forgotten      .          “        i’m…..     ”            she fumbles      ,      words lost ‘pon her tongue and dread pooling in her belly     ,     but she makes do    .      she carries forward….. as she always had and forever shall    .           “           i’m married    ,     silas      —     happily so     ,      and this….. this isn’t how a married woman should be acting in regards to their former lover        .        “          the hand in his slips away     ,      reluctant     ,       𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘      .          “           so    ,     um    ,      was there something you needed    ?            “

𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐒    ,     echoing disbelief both in sound and in her pinched features    .          “           unfortunate for us to assume such in the world we live in      ,        i suppose     .           “          dark hues fix heed to the mess at her feet      ,       digits itching to rid the floors of it      ,       but is halted by an idle thought passing through about the irony of what laid before her       ;       about the metaphor it could be recreated into      .       splintered clay    .     they were always but splintered clay     ,      weren’t they    ?     so fragile    .      always so fragile    .....   𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄     .      breakable     .            “         i..... i have an even longer story     ,      one that might need a bit more time to be explained than we have at the moment     ,      but perhaps over coffee      ?             “         she suggests     ,     once bearings are gathered and the fog lifts from her mind       .            “          tomorrow     ,      if you have time     ?            “          a simper edges at the corners of her brims       ,       polite in nature dispite itself      ,        and she begins to lean down to finally pluck away at the pieces of splintered clay     ;     heedless of how it put the diamond band sitting on her left hand on array      . 

“        𝐇𝐎𝐖 ---      “        the clay mug loose ‘tween her palms slips from her grasp      ,      graceless in its fall onto the wooden flooring beneath their feet      .     the rich aroma of a dark roast thickens in the room as clay splinters in halves     ,      and the liquid pools and splatters itself beneath her heel     .    the singe of heat causes her to wince    ,    𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓      ,    distracts her from the situation at hand      .      “     how are you.... here    ?     “     she speaks slowly     ,      hesitantly    ,     in fear of what she is seeing being naught more than a trick of the eyes     .     again     .      𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍     .       ///           *            @brilliantcrafty​                     ›          RANDOM       .

“           𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐍        ?               “                  an eyebrow perches itself high on her brow - bone at the given response     .    how curious human nature can be    ,    claiming a mold to be one’s own when created by another    .    how outlandish must you be to do such a thing   ?               “            i am not a traveler     ,       nor am i to be qetsiyah      ,      so you will not find the answers you seek with me      .            “          dark hues glit with mild vexation but timbre echoed not an inkling of such     .     the other seemed eager to flame a fire that needed no life breathed into it    ,    and amara had no desire to be a pyre for anyone for any longer     .       𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑      .              “          was there anything else you wished to speak about whilst we are in wait      ?         “              the words that fell off her lips    ,    in the form of an inquire    ,      were not more than a false pleasantry to temporarily fill the chaos in her head      .      she cared not of what the woman had to say     ,     whether it be of her own withering vanity or her seeming need to proclaim herself as higher power     ,      amara was just awaiting her end     .    from this world     ,        and the next world     ,      and the world between    .    peace    .     𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄     .  

ARC      :      𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒            .                hollowly              .              the sound rips through her vocal cords               ,                 saturating them in acid that burns far worse than the wails that bay to the moon night after night                .                  yet the upturn of her brims                ,                blood - bloomed and splintered              ,                   was saccharine in mannerism                .                a sorrow of an act               .              “                    would you truly care if i shared my troubles or not              ?                  “                   fingertips patter against a chilled glass            -             brimmed to the rim of medicine she still could not find a cure in              .                “             especially at this hour                  ?                 “                   𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒            -            the witching hours             .