#there's no morning glory it was war it wasn't fair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vividxpages · 4 months ago

Text

✩‧˚౨ৎ˚✩‧ The Great War PART 3₊✩˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 1 + PART 2

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2700

summary: You've made it to Dragonstone, but there still is distrust against you in the air and Jace has had enough of it.

warnings: nightmares, arguments at council

a/n: Thank you for all the love this little story has been getting. 💕 I'll upload all three chapters on my ao3 account too!

𓆩♡𓆪

We can plant a memory garden Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair And we will never go back

Fire ghosting over your skin. Warm brown eyes looking into yours from across the dinner table. A first shy kiss, exchanged in the safety of a childhood bedroom. Naked feet on cold stone. Hatred racing through your veins as you watched your brothers bully him. Learning what a bastard was. A dagger in too small hands. Blood sullying the floor. Tears Suffocating as the advisors of your family talked about endless marriage arrangements, tucking on your arms like you were a doll about to break in half. Your dragon and his, dancing in the sky. and anger and nothing to be done about it. A sapphire eye watching you closely. Sister…what a delight it’ll be to end you-

You awoke with a strangled gasp, shooting up and gripping your own throat to rip away the cold hand you had just felt there. Nails scraped over your sensitive skin, nothing to hurt except for your sensitive flesh.

The darkness of the bedroom stared back at you, a silent monster in the corner of the room, far away from the few candles that were still burning and dripping on the window sill.

Your own breath was too loud in your ears and quickly, you clamped a hand over your mouth and closed your eyes, trying to silence yourself.

Silky blankets pooled down at your waist and as quietly as you could, you looked over your shoulder at Jace sleeping peacefully next to you. One arm outstretched into the space where you just had laid, he had not awoken from your startling. His mouth was slightly open and his dark curls were a stark contrast to the light pillows his head was resting on.

Earlier tonight, you had been attending dinner before retreating back to his rooms together. You both had sat by the window, sharing a bottle of exquisite wine before falling asleep, inseparable and cuddled together in his big bed.

Perhaps the liquor had been the mistake.

It had been some days since you had arrived at Dragonstone, but so far you had not been able to shake off the memories of King’s Landing and your family. You had tried your best to hide your unease, despite how lucky you felt to finally be by Jacaerys’ side, but the nightmares came for you anyway.

You took a deep breath and touched your healing shoulder; the bandage having been changed by Jace just this morning. You were here and you had nearly paid with your life for it – gratitude should’ve followed you with every step. And still, the wheels in your head kept on spinning.

Jace let out a small huff in his sleep, his hand flexing as if his subconsciousness told him you were not in his embrace anymore. You brushed the sweat away from your brow and forced yourself to lay back once more.

The tension seeped out of your bones as you cuddled closer to Jace, gladly accepting the warmth of his arms around you, his sleeping form hugging you to him like a beloved childhood trinket. His cheek rested on top of your head and you placed your hand on his heart, feeling how calmly it beat underneath your palm.

All you needed was some rest and those nightmares would not come and plague you anymore, you tried to tell yourself. Everything was alright now, Jace and you would be alright.

You tried to believe your own thoughts and drifted off into sleep again, own hand still on Jace’s heart as the other found its way into his hair.

♡☁︎⋆｡˚

You should’ve expected that it was a mistake for you to be at council.

The newest wounds of the war were still fresh and you could not deny the resemblance of you and your kin, a girl with light hair but the wrong features and blood walking through the mighty halls of Dragonstone. For Jacaerys, there had been no question whether to bring you along to the council meeting or not.

To him, you had always belonged.

Belonged to his family and to him, without any hesitation.

But this was not shared among some members of the council and so, when you had walked in by Jace’s side, you already had felt the skeptical gazes of the lords in Rhaenyra’s services. When you sat down next to Jace and they knew you were not going to leave again, you knew it was going to be a long day.

Throughout the meeting, it did not get better.

Whenever it was your turn to provide usual information about Aegon or the ones in his service, you could feel the doubting looks of Rhaenyra’s council men on you, questioning your honesty and barely listening. Across the room, Baela gave you a sympathetic smile as you were once again cut off, reminding yourself of your own mother in Aegon’s council.

Unheard and powerless.

Where you had been forced to leave off, Jace often continued the conversation, pointing out various things you had told him in the privacy of his chambers, but when Rhaenyra turned the conversation towards possible methods to block the capitol’s provision system, one of the older Lords finally had enough.

“I believe it is wiser to discuss such matters without the presence of the prince and his…company.” One of the lords interrupted Rhaenyra. “A raven does not take long to reach King’s Landing after all, Your Grace.”

You blinked in surprise.

Beside you, Jace tensed visibly.

“And by all means, what are you referring to with this?” Rhaenyra asked tiredly, rubbing her temple.

“I only mean the best for the purpose of our rightful Queen and I doubt the presence of our newest guest here on Dragonstone benefits such meetings as this one.” The lord smiled slyly. Even Rhaenyra seemed to stunned to give an immediate answer.

You watched as Jace’s hand curled into a fist on the hilt of his sword.

“My lord, I do not intend to ever go back to King’s Landing, nor do I wish to correspond with my brothers.” You formulated your words carefully. It was at least one benefit of your upbringing; you knew how to control your temper while you could almost feel smoke coming from Jace next to you, the dragon in him barely staying under his skin. “I’ve chosen my side in this war. Vhagar and her rider did not chase me across the bay because my brother and I thought of it as an entertaining game.”

“Then why have we not once received a demand of the princess being returned back to the capitol?” He challenged you and you tensed, jaw locked. “I’ve warned the members of this council of such a reckless decision, stating that it is as grievous as an open attack in the field to help one of their spouses, a girl too, escape and yet I was ignored.”

“You had no say in this matter.” Jace cut in, glaring at him from the other side of the table. Your heart fluttered at his stance, the powerful will in his eyes to defend you in front of everyone. But you were not quite done yourself yet.

“You also seem to overestimate my importance in this conflict, my lord.” You regarded him cooly. “If I can be of service for my queen with any knowledge I might have, I will be. But my family does not need me by their side. I could’ve thrown myself out of the highest tower of the Red Keep, it would’ve been just as indifferent for them.”

But you knew the damage was already done.

You wore the colors of your beloved now, the colors of the true Queen and yet they saw Alicent Hightower when they looked at you. Or worse, a vicious vessel of your brother right in their middle, having seduced the eldest son of their queen, to mess with his mind and outplay them. A witch, a whore, a spy.

After your harsh statement, only the crackling of the fireplace could be heard through the hall, your chest aching with how much you had to fight yourself not to show your fury and distress.

“All I’m saying is-“

“I believe we’ve heard enough from you-“ Jace interrupted him curtly.

“that the whispers our sources passed on to us are not to be treated lightly. If they are true and it has been planned to wed Aemond with his sister, the very woman who warms the bed of our young pri-“

“One more word about her and I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to my dragon.“ Jacaerys exploded, his voice thundering through the council room.

“Jacaerys.” Rhaenyra called for order. She glared sternly at her oldest and the guilt in your stomach only intensified. You were the reason it had escalated like this. “You’re dismissed from council for today. This conflict is already complicated enough, I don’t need arguments in my own rows. And you won’t ever speak about her and or son in this manner. Or I will be the one feeding your tongue to my dragon.”

Embers still burned in Jace’s eyes as he stared down the lord. You stepped to his side, tugging at his sleeve in order to get his attention, but he stayed fixated on the man, the desire to run him through with the sword he carried evident on his face. Had he even heard his mother’s words?

“Jace.” You said quietly. “Let’s go, come on.”

Your beloved did not look at you yet, but you felt the smallest tension drain out of him as you rested one hand on the hilt of his sword. Slowly, as if he was considering it in his mind, he stepped back from the table, turning to look at his mother.

“My queen.” He nodded once and swallowed, voice shaking the tiniest bit. “If this…insult to me and her decides to roam the hallways of our castle after today’s meeting alone, I cannot guarantee your council won’t be missing one of its members tomorrow.”

You could feel his hand shaking in yours as you led him outside, bringing a safe distance between the two of you and the council. It felt like Jace was about to rush back and draw his sword if you let go of him now.

When you reached one of the alcoves by the windows, the breeze from the sea refreshing your mind, you stopped, allowing yourself a moment to lean your head against the wall and take a deep breath. You could hear the waves crashing down on the shore, the faint screech of a dragon in the distance…

Once you were ready to open your eyes again, Jace’s dark ones were already on you.

You looked at each other, content in the silence between you. Not able to help yourself, you gave him a sad smile and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Well, I suppose this wasn’t a very successful council meeting.” Your voice sounded tired to your own ears.

Jace was not done yet, but you could’ve figured he wasn’t. “He was in the wrong to insult you like this, you are the princess-“

“I’ve done nothing so far to gain their trust except for leaving my home behind.” You pointed out.

“They should trust you simply because I trust you.” Jacaerys argued, shaking his head with a grimace. “Instead, they’re splashing out their poison, undermining me and my mother’s authority for our decision to bring you to us, to safety.”

You sighed, pushing away from the wall and stepping in front of him, cupping his face in your hands. He closed his eyes at your soft touch, exhaling through his nose and shuddering just like Vermax did sometimes. To your relief, he leaned into it after a moment, accepting the small comfort.

“Their words mean nothing to me.” You whispered. “The only thing I’m regretting is giving you such troubles…”

“You could never trouble me.” Jace said in all honesty, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. After a moment, his gaze darkened again and he added: “And you’re not going to marry Aemond. I will not let that happen. You don’t ever have to go back there and we’ll stay together, alright? I’m going to meet my end before I’ll let any harm come to you.”

You shook your head, not letting him see how much the thought of losing him terrified you. “Their sources are wrong. There have been no plans of marrying me to anyone. Like I said, my family does not see me as this important. They already have one sister as queen.”

“You are important to me.” Jace asserted, his hand a comforting presence on your waist. “You are my princess, always have been.”

You sighed, leaning his head against his shoulder and letting him hold you in the empty hallway. There was nothing more you wanted to do than melt into him, safe and sound in your prince’s embrace. How different things would’ve been for the two of you if there had been no war. Back in King’s Landing the fantasies of what could’ve been kept you awake at night, wondering if Jace and you would’ve been long betrothed now if your mother had never claimed your father had changed his mind on his deathbed.

But none of it mattered now.

The past could not be changed and neither could be your alliances and your love for him. You had chosen and you had done it well.

“I love you.” You murmured and he mirrored your words with a sweet kiss, one finger delicately lifting your chin and hugging your waist. The kiss built you up, made you feel strong and loved and unshed tears sprung into your closed eyes at the tenderness he treated you with.

“I love you too, my princess.”

His princess. You smiled into the crook of his neck, blushing although the unease of the council meeting had not yet left you completely. Jace’s warm breath brushed over your ear and you were sure he was going to stand here with you for hours if it made you feel better.

Your fingers played with his curls and you placed a little kiss on his throat. “Care to take a quick ride?”

“In the sky or our bed?” Jace murmured and you drew back abruptly, a cheeky grin already on his face.

“Are you the same prince who threatened to feed a man’s tongue to Vermax mere minutes ago?” You teased him back, although his question did spark some…creativity in you. “Because I do not recognize him now.”

He chuckled as he took your hand and urgently led you outside, the salty air and the sunshine of the day brushing away the last bad memories of earlier. You could see your dragon and Vermax dance with each other above the grounds of Dragonstone and everything seemed a little brighter now. On the slope, red poppies grew and he bent down to pluck on, delicately placing it into your hair.

You smiled at each other as you held still.

“Let me race you and if you’re lucky, I’ll think about that second option.” You smiled brightly at him, although you knew you could not resist him anyway, not when it had taken so long to be by his side. And Jace brushed your comment aside as he sticked out his tongue, knowing well enough that it did not take much to get you riled up, just as he always desired you, every minute of his day, forever.

All of your problems were not solved.

War was on your doorstep and you knew this was only the beginning of a long fight.

But when you ascended into the sky with Jacaerys on Vermax by your side, you knew you were not standing alone anymore.

You had him and the love you two shared and no war was ever going to be strong enough to change that.

taglist: @alyssa-dayne @littleblackcatinwonderland

#jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #harry collett #jace targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing

336 notes · View notes

goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months ago

Text

the great war - astarion

a/n: i finished baldurs gate 3 last night for the first time and i just. i couldn't stop thinking about the fact that this is a game where all you do is fight and kill people and spend months thinking you'll die. and no one mentions the fact that those things woudl give you ptsd. so here's what i came up with! warnings: cursing, smut, angst, nightmares, ptsd, crying, MASSIVE spoilers for baldurs gate 3. like explicit details about the ending. general content warning for mature themes and such word count: 2.2.k summary: the four things you tell your companions you've been up to when they ask at reunions. pairing: astarion x gn!reader now playing: the great war - taylor swift "that was the night i nearly lost you/i really thought i'd lost you/we can plant a memory garden/say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair/there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair/and we will never go back"

Painting

He asks you to teach him to paint on a cold, rainy day. He’s spent hours watching you meticulously replicate various memories and scenes you want to be forever permanent. You paint your old friends.

You paint Gale and Tara curled up on one of the chairs in the Elfsong Tavern.

You paint Astarion with a goblet in his hand, wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

You paint Karlach and Shadowheart laughing by the fire.

You paint Astarion in the early morning, his arm draped over his eyes as he rests.

You paint Wyll and Lae’zel sparring as Scratch watches, running around them like an excited toddler.

You paint Astarion sitting by the river, his feet submerged in the water. You remember how peaceful he looked.

But now, he stares at the canvas in front of him with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You ask gently as you work.

“You’re so good at this,” He whines, “It’s infuriating.” You can’t help yourself. You lean over and gently kiss his cheek. The pale elf’s ears grow red.

“It’s all about practice and time, love.” You remind. “Besides, I also draw a lot. That helps.” You confess. Astarion looks at you curiously.

“I’ve never seen any of your drawings. Not recently, I suppose.” He recalls scattered parchment across your tent, but he couldn’t recall seeing you draw in the past few months. Your heart skips a beat.

You’ve revealed yourself.

You rest the paintbrush and the pallet down, before going to your bedroom. You come back and hand him a sketchbook. He sits down on one of your chairs before taking it, beginning to flip through it.

The pages are full of so many things.

His heart aches just looking at it.

The first few pages are normal. You’ve drawn Astarion, your companions, Scratch..

And then, he starts to see the dragon you fought on top of the Netherbrain. Right beneath it, Arabella grins back to him.

The amulet of Bhaal sits in one corner, and Halsin widdling sits in the other.

This pattern goes on and on, back and forth. A horrible thing is followed by the warmest memory you can reach in that moment.

Unconsciously, Astarion’s arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer. He goes through the book, and as the horrors you’ve drawn become worse, he notices that a familiar face he now recognizes as himself fills the pages.

He closes the book and puts it to the side. Then, he glances up to you. He pulls you closer, so you’re standing between his legs. You admire him for a long time but neither of you say much. You just admire each other as you quietly ponder everything that you’ve been through

2. Fucking

When you aren’t painting, you’re fucking—You cannot help yourself, and at this point, it’s sort of embarrassing.

You and your darling Astarion live in a roomy but peaceful house where no one can just stumble upon you, they must be looking. You have a small sunroom for your paintings, even an alchemy lab, and of course, Astarion spends most of his time in the study he has made himself.

But that doesn’t stop the pair of you from trying to fuck to death.

Astarion bakes you various delicious treats, and then lays you down on the table to enjoy his own treat—His tongue laps up the sweet nectar that he has found himself genuinely craving you, as if your cum was a lifesaving elixir.

And of course, while he works in his study, your mouth warms his cock, teasing it—When you get too cheeky, he pulls your hair with his fingers, telling you to behave.

One particular night, his teeth graze your neck as he thrusts into you, gripping your hands as he listens to the euphoric moans leaving your lips. He thinks he can probably spend the rest of eternity chasing those moans.

“Astarion,” You breath out, squeezing his hand, and he just lets out a breathy chuckle.

“I know, darling, just wait a few more minutes for me..” he says softly, “Just really feel everything I’m giving you,” He says. His voice is not unkind, and he is focused on giving you what you want.

You fought a Netherbrain for Gods sake, you can at least take a few minutes to enjoy the feeling of your spouse fucking you.

As your moans become whinier, and Astarion feels himself about to cum too, so he bites the shell of your ear, a quiet sign to let yourself go.

And you do—In the midst of a chorus of moans and pants, you take a second to recognize the fact that you’re alive. The two of you are breathing and you’re not mindflayers, and you’re in love. You never thought the feeling of your lover’s cum dripping out of you would be damn near inspirational.

He stays on top of you for a few minutes, and you can tell he’s feeling the same things you are. But eventually he rolls off of you and rests comfortably on his stomach. Your hand comes over to his back, starting to trace those scars.

Those scars that haunt him.

You cannot help the next words that leave your lips.

“Do you ever regret not becoming the Ascendant?” You ask quietly. His eyes study yours. He answers with another question—

“Do you ever regret not taking control of the Netherbrain?” he asks.

Your answer is simple. Unspoken. Obvious.

You just smile gently to him and lean in, kissing his head.

3. Late Night Tea

Astarion doesn’t sleep. Not because he doesn’t want to, but that’s how elves work. But he doesn’t mind laying next to you as you sleep and he meditates.

But mostly, you never sleep through the night.

Sometimes it’s something small.

Raphael’s laughter haunting you. The snake that threatened Arabella in the grove. The sewers of Baldurs Gate.

Other times, it’s intense. It’s vivid and leaves you sobbing and panicked.

Orin with a knife to Gale’s throat. Gortash experimenting on Karlach. The Emporer sucking Wyll’s soul from his head, or sometimes you’re just stuck in the Astral Prism, unable to get out.

Tonight, You’re in Cazzador’s dungeon. You’re standing in the middle of the circle where he attempted to preform the ascension ritual—But this time it’s different. Your companions are levitating, suspended in red magic. When you look behind you, Astarion is there. He’s shirtless, suspended midair.

Your heart drops.

You run over to him, as fast as your feet will take you, but you are halted just a few feet from him, crashing into an invisible barrier keeping you from your spouse. You cannot reach any of your companions, but their faces are all twisted into the same look—A melted, tense look of pain and terror.

You look back to the center of the room and.. You see your dream vistor. The façade the Emperor put on to try and trick you. They hold Cazzador’s staff, and their eyes glow deep red. You charge at the dream visitor, your hands clawing for the face before—

You wake up, sobbing and breathless. You have to take a moment to realize that it is over, that you’re not in that dungeon deep beneath Cazzador’s estate, and instead, are in bed, lying with Astarion.

You sit up, and when you glance over to him, he’s awake, looking at you with this worried expression. It makes him look younger than you’ve ever known him.

“Astarion—” You start, the words getting caught in your throat.

His hand comes over to your cheek, cupping it gently.

“Shh.. Just breath.” He requests gently, wiping your tears gently. His other hand finds yours. “Come along,” He says softly, tugging on your hand, pulling you along to the kitchen. The sun will rise soon. But Astarion leaves the windows open, sensing it will help ground you.

He starts to boil water for tea, as you sit at the table, staring out the window. Your hands wipe away your tears. Astarion brings two cups of tea to the table and sits next to you.

“Thank you.” You say gently, and he smiles gently to you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shake your head. Then you ask—

“Do you ever get nightmares?”

Astarion tilts his head, admiring you for a few moments as he debates his answer.

“Yes.” He takes a sip of his tea.

“Why don’t you ever wake me up when you have them? You always seem to help me, why not wake me up?”

Astarion slides off the chair and kneels by your side. He kisses your hand gently, looking up to you with those gorgeous red eyes.

“When I wake up and realize that Cazzador is dead, that it was just a rather dull nightmare.. When I remember that you’re safe and by my side, I’m okay.” He says gently. “As long as I can realize you’re safe, I can calm down.”

You kiss him deeply, and you never want to let him go.

4. Growing Back Together

It takes a long time to find all the pieces of yourself that has been scattered throughout Faerun due to the parasite. It takes a long time for Astarion to unlearn two hundred years of abuse and torment.

The two of you become less frail as you grow comfortable. Your stomachs are full of warm soup and bread and rich wines, and as you lose that familiar and constant hunger, your brain begins to clean up, as if it’s repairing itself, mending the walls and putting pictures back together.

You and Astarion spend your time trying to grow together. He teaches you how to play cards, and you accuse him of cheating every single time. You know he is. He won’t ever admit it to you.

You face the inevitability that Astarion will outlive you. That you will grow old and sickly, and Astarion will be left all alone. He will outlive not only you, but your comapnions, too. It will be just him and Withers one day.

And at first, you try to convince him to move on after you die. You tell him that he will have the opportunity to see this wild future, a future that no one can possibly predict. You tell him that he might be able to fall in love with other people, and that he can live this phenomenal life in your name.

But he argues back. He tells you he has no desire for people to forget the battles you fought, that he has no need to hear the very real adventures he went on become a fairytale, a legend that no one truly believes.

He has no need to outlive his friends, loved ones, or even future children you might have with him.

“There’s no desire to live a life without you. You are what makes my life worth living.”

And that is what convinces you. You agree that when you’re old and wrinkly, and you are near the end, Astarion will hold you as the sun rises. That way, the pair of you will die together. There will never be a day the two of you know without each other.

But for the time being, you spend long nights in front of the fire, talking about anything and everything.

One night, Astarion slips a gold band onto your finger and asks you to solidify the legend of the Vampire Astarion and the Savior of Baldurs Gate, in front of your friends, in front of the Gods, and to each other.

How could you say no?

But the two of you, being who you are.. You cannot just rent a venue, buy a few fancy outfits, get a cake, and have a party. There needs to be a special twist on it.

So when Withers sends out invitations for the five year anniversary of your defeat of the Netherbrain (after six months and then a year), you and Astarion look at each other, and realize what must happen.

To declare your love for each other in the place where your love started, it’s the perfect fairytale ending the two of you deserve.

Withers agrees to turn his celebration into a makeshift wedding, happy to indulge you in your mortal celebrations, especially because he knows things you do not know.

So, in that pretty clearing in the forest that he lead you to when you thought you might be illithid by morning, you marry him. You marry him and never look back, do not think twice, and you dive headfirst into it.

When you get back to your house, you spend days buried between silk sheets.

Dirty tea cups sit on the table.

An old game of cards lays abandoned on the desk of his study.

A painting of your wedding hangs on the wall.

The Pale Elf gets his happy ending.

You can hear your own thoughts, there is no tadpole invading them.

And neither of you have flinched in years.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion epilogue #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fic #bg3 fic #bg3 x reader #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #angst #ptsd #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion x reader

233 notes · View notes

blackthornluce · 10 months ago

Text

We can plant a memory garden Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

#yellowjackets #yellowjacketsedit #yjedit #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #shaunajackie #shauna sadecki #jackie x shauna #ella purnell #sophie nelisse #melanie lynskey #tv #tvedit #filmtvedit #tvfilmedit #gifs

323 notes · View notes

forhappysake · 10 months ago

Text

The Great War

A/N - If you guys know the song "The Great War" by Taylor Swift, you'll get where I'm coming from. Every time I hear it, I think of the prison spencer/cat storyline, so I just did a quick blurb. Enjoy!

Summary - Spencer's been in prison. Now he's finishing his stand off with the woman who put him there. His partner reflects and wonders what comes next.

Warnings - spoilers for season 12, BAU level violence

“And maybe it was ego swinging/ Maybe it was her/ Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur”

I couldn’t bring myself to be angry. Believe me, I wanted to be. As I stared through the one-way glass, I felt myself imploding. His hand reaching for hers, asking her to dance with him. I thought back over the last few months, everything we’d been through. Flashes of everything came back in a blur.

“Uh-huh, tears on the letter/ I vowed not to cry anymore/ If we survived the Great War”

The bloodied cuts on Spencer’s hand when he’d returned from Mexico. The tears dotting the letters he sent from the confines of the prison. I told myself I’d never waste time on tears again if I could just get him out.

“You drew up some good faith treaties/ I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone”

He did what he had to do to stay alive. I don’t want to think about the details. I spent days and nights pouring over files and evidence, trying to find any way to exonerate him.

“And maybe it's the past that's talkin'/ Screamin' from the crypt/ Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did”

A voice in the back of my head created doubts. What if he wasn’t as innocent as he seemed? I’d force the voice away and put my head back down, burying myself in work until I collapsed in exhaustion.

“Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed…/ That was the night I nearly lost you/ I really thought I lost you”

It wasn’t until this moment that I wondered if I’d been betrayed. She had her claws in him, certainly, but the way he was looking at her made some insecurity deep inside me. They swayed back and forth to some music only they could hear as the bile rose in my throat. The voice in my head suggested that I was losing him. Once again, I pushed the voice away.

“We can plant a memory garden/ Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair”

Finally, he got what he wanted. He took a final look back leaving her with a single remark. He left her behind, securing his watch firmly back to his wrist as he entered the room. I found myself frozen in place. What were we to do now?

“There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair/ And we will never go back”

He placed a soft hand on my shoulder, guiding me from the room and out the doors of the prison. None of this had been fair, but it was over. We never had to go back. No more letters covered in teardrops. No more nights spent apart. I could be his. We’d survived the great war.

“I vowed I would always be yours/ 'Cause we survived the Great War.”

177 notes · View notes

ohdorothea · 2 months ago

Text

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!

The Great War lyrics

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls

Cursed you as I sleep talked

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down

Took the battle underground

And maybe it was egos swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember, uh-huh

Tears on the letter, I vowed

Not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed

Drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire

You were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talking

Screaming from the crypt

Telling me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the bombs were closer

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember, uh-huh

The burning embers, I vowed

Not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

Uh-huh, uh-huh

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze

Got a sense I'd been betrayed

Your finger on my hairpin triggers

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue

So I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I'd lost you

We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer

Place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory

It was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back to that

Bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the worst was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember, uh-huh

We're burned for better, I vowed

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

Uh-huh, uh-huh

I will always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

Uh-huh

I vowed I will always be yours

🫶🫶🫶

Dear Reader lyrics

Dear reader, if it feels like a trap

You're already in one

Dear reader, get out your map

Pick somewhere and just run

Dear reader, burn all the files

Desert all your past lives

And if you don't recognize yourself

That means you did it right

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart (You should find another)

Dear reader, bend when you can

Snap when you have to

Dear reader, you don't have to answer

Just 'cause they asked you

(You should find another)

Dear reader, the greatest of luxuries is your secrets

Dear reader, when you aim at the devil

Make sure you don't miss

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

So I wander through these nights

I prefer hiding in plain sight

My fourth drink in my hand

These desperate prayers of a cursed man

Spilling out to you for free

But darling, darling, please

You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking

If you knew where I was walking

To a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there

Where I pace in my pen and my friends found friends who care

No one sees when you lose when you're playing solitaire

You should find another guiding light, guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another guiding light, guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another, you should find another (Guiding light)

Find another, you should find another

You should find another

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

If you’d like to send in interpretations or propaganda for a specific song you can send them to my inbox! All interpretations are welcome and let’s be open and kind in response to all interpretations <3

#tsqst

23 notes · View notes

cascadeoceanwave · 1 year ago

Text

@pscentral event 18: adaptations there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

#hdmedit #silverparry #hdmsource #lyra belacqua #lyra silvertongue #will parry #tvedit #adaptationsdaily #otp: every atom of me and every atom of you #taylor swift #the great war #maya edits #lit #tv #his dark materials

196 notes · View notes

oweninadaydream · 10 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫 ||𝐇.𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲

summary : Haymitch finds solace in a friendship with young (Y/N). Now Haymitch is outside, watching. (Y/N) is in the Arena, fighting.

song inspo: "There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair" - The Great War by Taylor Swift

pairing : Haymitch Abernathy x fem!reader (platonic)

word count : 1.8 k

contains : angst, hurt no comfort, betrayal, found family trope, violence, some gore, death, this story is set way before Katniss and Peeta's games. Also, first time writing for this character so probably a bit OC Haymitch hahaha.

a/n : Here you have my first moodboard !!! I wanted to try and capture the vibes of the story in three images and I'm pretty proud of myself. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story :) PD: shoutout to @sarahisslytherin for being so supportive everytime I have a crisis hahaha. Comments are always appreciated 🩷

“I think it’s time I have another dose of that medicine they've sent'' she said as a cue for him to get up from his spot and hand her the remedy inside the metallic jar. (Y/N) had been sick for a day and a half and, even though it was the boy's fault that they had encountered the monster that had bitten her, she wasn’t holding it against him. She knew she could trust him ; at the end of the day, the male tribute from her district had made an alliance with her and she had been doing everything in her power so that he didn’t die. He stood up and handed her the jar.

Haymitch had awoken suddenly after falling asleep on the couch while watching the games in the room designated to the mentors. The constant worry was affecting his sleep schedule and his appetite detrimentally. Not for the boy, no ; he didn’t give a shit about that brat who had skipped all the training sessions and had dismissed his mentor every time he tried to give them valuable advice. He was anxiously picking his lips for her, for (Y/N).

People thought Haymitch had met her after the Reaping, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Ever since (Y/N) was little, she roamed the District streets in solitude, as her mother had died and her father was extremely neglectful towards her. A younger Haymitch had recently become the District 12's victor and was beginning to develop a certain addiction to alcohol when, one cold afternoon, he encountered a young child by the gates of Victors Village.

Her sparkly eyes caught his tired gaze and a stare contest began. "I don't have time for this bullshit" he crankly thought while looking away. She asked him his name and that if that big house was his. He turned around and wondered whether he should engage in a conversation with the child who obviously had no better place to be at. He noticed the kid was underfed and didn't wear any winter clothes. The heart that had stopped beating after surviving the Hunger games came back to life , like a phoenix being reborn from its ashes. From that day on a very special bond was created between the two unfortunate souls. He was still very grumpy and had a little problem with drinking, but (Y/N) made him want to do better. She was incredibly smart and her sarcasm was one of the very few things that made the former tribute laugh. Their talks and dinners were a secret to the rest of the world ; he couldn't risk hurting the girl he had grown to love as a daughter.

He soon discovered her birthday was the day after the Reaping. This year she would turn 19 and the panic the Reaping used to cause her would finally end. Just one more year of not getting chosen and she could live a peaceful life, just like she had always dreamed of. The latter year Haymitch had been talking about taking her in as his daughter, as her father had also passed away. But before that could happen, the most disgustingly ironic thing happened.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)"

One day, she only needed one more day. But it seemed useless to whine about something that would not change anyway. The other tribute was a boy nobody really talked to, so neither she nor Haymitch had any idea of what to expect from him. To say that the mentor was devastated was an understatement. But he could not show it, his face impassible as ever instead.

He was there for every meltdown before the dozens of events, for every doubt she could have about how to make it out of the Arena alive, for every nightmare about what fate had planned for her. Haymitch observed with a worried frown how nobody approached (Y/N) during training week ; she was very astute but her mentor had stressed the importance of making alliances in order to have more chances to survive, and seeing how she was going to be all alone out there compressed his chest with acute pain.

He did everything in his power to prepare her for the multiple dangers she could be facing out there. Still, Haymitch’s mind couldn’t help but explore the darkest scenarios ; optimism was never one of his qualities. In the end, the apathetic boy from 12 decided to make an effort at the end of training season and he turned out to be a magnificent and stealthy climber ; he also started to get close to (Y/N) and they decided to team up. The change of attitude shocked Haymitch but since (Y/N) was much more calm and focused, he didn't put too much thought into it.

The District 12 mentor stared at the bright screen in front of him and watched how (Y/N) was sound asleep. The last 3 hours had been pretty dull on their part of the prefabricated habitat : he had gone out to collect some wood and after he had returned, he lit a fire and offered to watch out for any intruders while she slept.

Suddenly, Haymitch noticed how the young male had started pacing back and forth in a nervous manner. His instinct of suspecting of everything anyone does kicked in very quickly. The tribute started sobbing heavily as he wielded the dagger he had managed to obtain from the cornucopia a few days earlier. His shaky hands lifted the weapon in the air and, with all the strength the teenager possessed, he stabbed her.

The blade of his dagger penetrated her back with disturbing ease. He felt as if someone had put him on autopilot and, despite (Y/N) turning to feebly try to defend herself from the unexpected attack, he kept her still against the cold ground and continued to inflict the fatal wounds.

Her shuddering screams reached her assailant's ears like a distant echo. On the television, however, (Y/N)'s last words were perfectly understandable. His name. She was screaming his name. Haymitch couldn't quite detect whether the screams were a conscious call as a hurried form of farewell or a primal instinct in search of comfort triggered by a delusional pain that caused her to abandon all logic or coherent thought. If he had to bet, he would go for the second option, considering how quickly she was bleeding to death and the panicked expression on her face as she realized her life was rapidly coming to an end.

The stabs were becoming significantly weaker and that could only mean that the adrenaline rush that had originally enabled him to act in favor of his secret plan had slowly faded, only to leave him stranded in the tragic reality he had created. The screams stopped quite quickly, as she was choking on her own blood. The lack of cries caught the attention of the aggressor, who looked down and saw how (Y/N) breathed out for the last time. His shirt was a crimson mess. However, nothing could compare with the bloody puddle that was coming out of her body.

Leaving no time to mourn or process the scene in front of him, the Careers appeared and found the violent scene already over. Without an ounce of remorse or repulse, one of the District 1 tributes made their way towards the paralyzed teen and the corpse.

“There’s no time to waste. Give us her supplies, we’ll take them to our hidden spot in the skirts of the mountain. Meanwhile, you must go to the Cornucopia and bring some more food and weapons. You’ll join us later” The commanding voice of the male tribute intimidated the boy from 12 who obediently began to hand them what used to be (Y/N)’s : the matching axes, the food she had collected and had determined to be safe to consume, the medicine that was supposed to help her heal from the bites of the venomous creature.

Haymitch beheld the horrific scene shown on the gigantic TV totally disassociated from reality ; he couldn’t move but the uneasiness crawling up his skin created a tight and uncomfortable feeling that he urgently needed to shake off. How could the boy be so stupid, so naive ? The Careers would kill him after he had completed the tasks they had ordered him to do; he was just a pawn in their master plan to win that hellish competition.

The camera pointed towards the interior of the cave where the body of the young woman laid still. Haymitch could barely recognize the corpse; that could not be the girl that brought light back to his life after living in the dark for so long or the young adult who respected him but also held him accountable when he messed up. No, that was not her. His brain could not assimilate the idea of her dying in such a vile and miserable way. That scum, poor excuse of a man would regret breaking his word, backstabbing his daughter like only a coward would.

He wished him a slow, painful and sanguinolent death. Actually, he wished he could have entered that damned Arena and done the job himself ; if you want something done right do it yourself, right? After a couple of seconds, the sound of the canyon and the image of (Y/N) projected in the sky appeared on the TV and as fast as they came, they disappeared from the screens, moving on to something much more entertaining for the expecting audience.

He quickly excused himself from the room before anyone could begin to notice the grief in his expression. In the quietness of his private room, he started wailing and throwing everything in his way around, tearing all his belongings to pieces as a way to channelize his pain. After a while, he stopped only to approach the drinks cabinet provided by the generous Capitol, and he poured himself one of the many drinks he would have that night and the days to follow.

His heart began to develop another stone wall around itself, but this time it would never ever be destroyed, not like (Y/N) had managed to all those years ago. This time he would drown all his sorrow and any kind of emotion in all the types of liquors he could find. He would close himself to the world ; nobody would carve him open again, nobody would get so close to the real version of himself. He vowed then and there to abandon all hope and just let the years go by until the arrival of his final day.

He exited the room only to sit on the balcony floor. While staring at the night sky, he felt a tear rolling down his left cheek ; after releasing a shaky breath, he raised the glass that contained his numbing remedy and murmured :

" 'till we meet again, sweetheart"

#oweninadaydream #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfiction #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #female reader #fem!reader #the hunger games imagine

133 notes · View notes

iamred-iamyellow · 6 months ago

Text

Every Brocedes Coded Taylor Swift Song

@formulaocean

✰ = my favs that make me sob aka the ones that are MOST brocedes coded

Taylor Swift:

-Teardrops on my guitar

“I’ll bet she’s beautiful, that girl he always talks about”

“I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night”

-Cold As You

Fearless:

-You Belong With Me

-You’re Not Sorry

-The Way I Loved You

✰Forever & Always (piano version AUGHGHGHHG)

-We Were Happy

Speak Now:

-Mine

“you were the best thing, that’s ever been mine”

-Back to December

✰The Story of Us

“miscommunications lead to fallout, so many things that I wish you knew”

“and the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now”

"but I liked it better when you were on my side"

Red:

-Red

“forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met”

-Sad Beautiful Tragic

-Come Back…Be Here

1989:

-Wildest Dreams

-All You Had To Do Was Stay

-Bad Blood

-Say Don’t Go

-Now That We Don’t Talk

-Suburban Legends

“and you kiss me in a way that’s gonna screw me up forever”

-Is It Over Now?

Reputation:

-Don’t Blame Me

-Look What You Made Me Do

-Getaway Car

Lover:

-London Boy

-False God

“we were crazy to think, crazy to think that this could work, remember how I said i’d die for you?"

✰Afterglow

folklore:

-the 1

“it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one”

“you know the greatest loves of all time are over now”

-cardigan

✰exile

“you’re not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now?”

“I'm not your problem anymore, so who am I offending now?”

“there is no amount of crying I can do for you”

“you never gave a warning sign”

-my tears ricochet

✰invisible string

evermore:

-coney island

“what's a lifetime of achievement? If I pushed you to the edge, but you were too polite to leave me” (except he did leave tho im screaming)

-marjorie

-closure

“yes I got your letter” (THE PARALLELS CAUS LIKE THE LETTER LEWIS WROTE THAT NICO DIDNT GET AND TOTO HAD TO READ IT)

“I don't need your “closure””

✰right where you left me (self explanatory)

Midnights:

-Maroon

✰The Great War (I will be making a web weave for this also I’m literally sobbing)

“It turned into something bigger, somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed”

“there's no morning glory it was war it wasn't fair.”

-You’re Losing Me (ik it wasn't a part of the official album but whatever)

TTPD:

✰So Long, London (every lyric. screaming, crying, vomiting.)

-loml

-The Black Dog

“I just dont understand how you dont miss me.”

“and I may never open up the way I did for you.”

✰Chloe or Sam or Sofia or Marcus (one of my moots made a web weave about this song and you should totally go look at it here caus it's heartbreaking dhhdjsjjds)

-How Did It End?

-I Look In People’s Windows

"does it feel alright not to know me?”

“what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time”

Honorable Mentions:

-I Don’t Wanna Live Forever

“I just wanna keep calling your name till you come back home”

-Treacherous

“I just think you should, think you should know that nothing safe is worth the drive”

-cowboy like me

“and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up”

“never wanted love just a fancy car”

#i am fucking crazy but i am free #brocedes #brocedes playlist #lewis hamilton #lh44 #nico rosberg #nr6 #taylor swift #taylor swift eras #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #the silver war #mercedes f1

45 notes · View notes

arktoib · 4 months ago

Text

ও⠀⠀⠀POV⠀⠀⠀:⠀⠀⠀ilha de circe & fechamento da fenda⠀⠀⠀!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀⠀there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and we will never go back

toda glória de uma batalha é em vão se você perde seu melhor soldado. por mais que perdas sejam necessárias, só o fato de existir essa sentença, já mostra a injustiça implícita.

** a leitura a seguir aborda temas como automutilação (ish?), sangue, alucinações e desmaio. caso seja sensível à qualquer um dos tópicos, a leitura é desencorajada e, até mesmo, não indicada.

antonia conhecia o processo. não era a primeira vez, talvez não fosse a última. todos juntos na enfermaria, os conselheiros fazendo a contagem, os enfermeiros fazendo a verificação dos feridos e suas gravidades. era o padrão. e ela segurava uma gaze com de soro, passava no corte pequeno corte em seu braço. não se recordava quando havia ganhado a mais nova cicatriz, mas podia jurar que fora na confusão de levar todos para o mais longe da fenda, quando ela começou a fechar.

de cabeça baixa, sua única função era terminar o curativo e seguir para seu chalé. eles tinham vencido, afinal, a fenda estava fechada e mesmo que um número considerável de campistas tivesse acreditado nos monstros, eram ferimentos que poderiam ser curados. ao menos era o que sua mente repetia constantemente, como um mantra. os burburinhos chamaram sua atenção, ninguém estava sendo discreto, afinal. buscou algumas palavras soltas. sumidos. caídos. desaparecidos. levantou-se da maca, indo em direção ao grupo.⠀⠀"⠀⠀... estão dizendo que foi o preço que pagamos por tentar fechar a fenda.⠀⠀"⠀⠀quem havia caído? saiu correndo em disparada para onde havia maior concentração de campistas, buscando apenas alguma coisa que indicasse que seus amigos estavam ali. a única que não encontrou fora melis. os filhos de hermes também pareciam perdidos.

não, ela não podia ter caído. antonia lembrava-se claramente de ter gritado para ela sair, quando começaram a fechar a tenda. como...? por que ela havia ficado? tentou se lembrar da última vez que a viu em meio a toda aquela confusão, mas estava ocupada puxando uma das irmãs mais nova pelo braço. se ela havia caído, para onde tinha ido? para onde todos aqueles campistas tinham ido? hades podia fazer alguma coisa contra?

se dera de conta que estava em outro lugar somente quando a única coisa a sua frente era o extremo breu. o cheiro familiar de alecrim preencheu o seu nariz, estava em casa. o chalé seis nunca esteve em completo silêncio como agora. a única coisa que ouvia era os soluços entrecortados com o pulmão fazendo um esforço triplicado para que antonia pudesse respirar. era mais uma crise, dessa vez, com motivo. o medo consumia cada centímetro seu, passando pela pele, músculos, nervos e tendões e se agarrando firme a seus ossos.

como sua mente não lhe pertencia mais, os vislumbres de melis eram como gasolina em uma fogueira. antonia não era do tipo que possuía o ódio intrínseco, mas o medo... esse era o que regia cada uma de suas escolhas. sempre cautelosa, ponderadora, sabia o que era melhor depois de muita analise. ali, no escuro, liberou algo que nunca antes teve coragem. o canto que havia levado anos para construir, fora desfeito em minutos. começou levando tudo a baixo, os cerâmicas, os vidros, as decorações, tudo eram cascalhos quebrados. as fotos rasgadas, as luzinhas de coruja na parede destruídas.

de joelhos, com as mãos juntas, antonia nunca demonstrou tanta crença como naquele momento.⠀⠀"⠀⠀por favor, eu imploro. a melis não. eu faço qualquer coisa, qualquer coisa mesmo. qualquer um que esteja me ouvindo, por favor.⠀⠀"⠀⠀as súplicas eram misturadas com um choro baixinho. qualquer um que visse antonia daquele jeito não a reconheceria. o desespero era tamanho que não sabia o que prometer para os deuses.⠀⠀"⠀⠀eu serei sua soldado mais fiel, mas por favor, salve a melis.⠀⠀"⠀⠀e não estava falando em vão. ela serviria ao deus que primeiro atendesse sua prece.

para provar que estava falando sério, juntou em um montinho os cacos de vidro e demais que estavam espalhados, colocou na beira da cama. levantou as calças e com os joelhos, se pôs em uma posição que não ficava há muito tempo. não acreditava no deus católico, mas na itália, sempre vira as pessoas pedindo algo, elas estavam de joelhos. juntou a mão uma por cima da outra e fechou os olhos. sentiu a ponta do material quebrado entrar em sua pele e o sangue escorrer pelos joelhos, canela e parar perto do tornozelo. quanto mais pedia, mais força fazia e mais fundo os cacos entravam.

sentou-se sobre os calcanhares. não sabia quanto tempo havia se passado desde que implorava, mas a imagem de melis no mesmo labirinto a sufocava. ela, novamente, não havia conseguido salvar quem de fato importava. sucumbiu ao desejo de salvar à todos, que ficou sem uma das pessoas que mais se importava. ela realmente estava vendo melis ou sua mente estava sendo traiçoeira o suficiente para uma despedida cordial entre elas? a voz ao fundo a chamando parecia trazer baptista de volta. virou sua cabeça, reconhecendo a voz de ian no breu.

mas não houve qualquer resposta de sua parte, com seu corpo cansado caindo no chão do chalé.

mencionados: @melisezgin @sonofthelightning

@silencehq @hefestotv

#swf: ritual #swf:superfície #˛⠀⠀⠀˚⠀⠀⠀𝒂 . 𝒃𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂﹐⠀⠀⠀𖥦⠀⠀⠀development⠀.#˛⠀⠀⠀˚⠀⠀⠀𝒂 . 𝒃𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂﹐⠀⠀⠀𖥦⠀⠀⠀povs⠀.

21 notes · View notes