#tw:war
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It’s not too late if we’re alive (Brienne/Reader)
A/N: It’s Day Two of May Trope Mayhem by @duckprintspress and I’ve never felt so inspired to write! Today’s prompt is War Setting so you get a WWII AU Brienne x Reader fic, because why not! (thanks to @weemssapphic for our historical AU talk, that made me buckle down and write). As always, link to AO3 in title below.
Disclaimer: I didn’t have the time to properly research this, so there might be historical inaccuracies on technical stuff like how war hospitals were organized etc. Disclaimer # 2: I seem physically unable to keep my fics under 1000w, blame the angst, not me.
Tags: War, WWII, Hospitals, Wounds (not graphic), Talk of Death, Talk of Bombing, Smoking, Second-person Narrator, Angst, Breakups, Angst with a Happy Ending, No use of Y/N.
Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Brienne of Tarth/Reader Wordcount: 1258w
It’s not too late if we’re alive
Any day that passed, you knew it could happen. You were at war after all. Day in and day out the battles raged, and humans fought against other humans, machines against other machines, metal ringing against metal, their screams loud in the smoke-filled air.
They fell in troves. Some made it to you, others weren’t so lucky. And you knew that Brienne was there in the trenches, amongst her soldiers, leading them, the first woman to ever serve in the British Army, the first one to rise to the rank of officer.
Every time you woke up from your fitful slumber, every time a wounded soldier was brought in for treatment, you prayed not to recognize her on the stretcher, not to see her cornsilk hair matted with blood underneath the helmet. One day your prayers went unanswered.
“Chief Nurse! Hurry! It’s the lieutenant-general!”
After all this time, her figure was still so achingly familiar to you as the litter bearer brought her in, her long limbs limp on the stretcher, soot and blood marring the uniform she was so proud of.
Up until now you had managed to avoid her, only catching glimpses of her when she came to visit the wounded, but now here she was, bare inches away from you. She was still beautiful, even with the inevitable traces of time and war. It took all of your strength not to reach out and brush your fingers against the soft skin of her jaw. You shouldn’t.
After all, the last words you had exchanged had not been the friendly sort.
*
“Will you at least promise me you’ll come back?” you had asked. She had already donned her uniform, and the coarse wool scratched your palm as you put your hand on her elbow.
“You know I cannot promise you that.”
“But I love you.”
Her face had hardened, as it always did when you told her how you felt. You had told yourself that she was simply unused to being loved. But a dark voice within you was starting to ask whether it was because she was ashamed of you, or frustrated with your clinginess. Whatever the reason, she never said those words back.
“You shouldn’t say those things so lightly.”
“Just because you refuse to accept my feelings for you doesn’t mean that they are not real.”
“You are young, but you were never naïve. This was never something that could last.”
You had been young at the time, true. You had never experienced heartbreak before. Even the simple act of breathing sent searing pain through your chest. Your eyes had filled with tears, and your mouth with rage.
“Is that all it was to you? Just something to keep you entertained between wars?”
She had not dared to answer you. To this day, you still wondered why. Was it because it had been more for her as well and she didn’t want to lie to your face, or was it because she didn’t want to admit that she, Captain Brienne of Tarth, paradigm of righteousness, had used you for your affection just for as long as she had needed a warm body?
You had been young at the time, and first love is never easily forgotten. Even if unrequited.
*
“Is God so unmerciful then?” The sudden sound of her voice in the silence of the officers tent almost made you drop the bandages you were carrying. You turned to her, wondering if she was growing delirious due to the high fevers she was running. But her eyes, wide and feverish though they were, were trained on you, with razor-sharp focus. “Have I not atoned for my past mistakes with my deeds? Why must He torture me with cruel visions?”
Oh.
She thought you were a fever dream, one sent to torture her. You pretended it didn’t hurt. It shouldn’t have, not as much as it did. Not even if she had been your first love.
Your only love, corrected a voice inside of you that sounded a lot like your younger self.
“Lieutenant-general, I am not a vision. I am merely the chief nurse. You should try to rest. You have been injured on the battlefield.”
“Is…is it truly you?”
“It is. But I am only here to treat your wounds, not to dig up the past.”
“How are you alive?”
“How is anyone alive these days? Luck, probably.”
“I thought you died in the Coventry bombing.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I sent you letters, and you never answered. I came over last year, but nobody could tell me anything about you. Our house was nothing but a pile of rubble. I thought…”
“Oh, is it our house now? I don’t recall you showing any particular attachment to it when you left.” She was surprised at your vitriol, you could see it in the way her deep blue eyes widened, and in the uncharacteristically hesitation in her answer.
“Darling, I-“
You suddenly felt ashamed of how easily her mere presence could drag out all of your pain, making you feel like that day on your doorstep, watching her walk away, her military boots crushing your heart with each step.
“There are no darlings here. It’s Chief Nurse if you need to address me. But right now, I don’t have time for idle chatter.”
You turned away from her, leaving her behind as she did to you so much time ago.
*
She found you some days later, as you were trying to enjoy the luxury of a short smoke break hidden behind the hospital barracks. She was still limping, but her skin had lost most of its sickly paleness, and she looked even more like the Brienne you used to know. The Brienne you used to love.
“How did you end up becoming a nurse?”
“I was told to do something useful with my life since I refused to marry. I did.”
“You…refused to marry?”
“Lieutenant-general, I hardly think…”
“Brienne. It’s Brienne to you. It’s always been.” You committed the mistake of looking up into her eyes, and instantly felt the irresistible pull they had on you. As if she had never left. You averted your gaze angrily and took a deep drag from the cigarette in your hands, trying to center yourself once again.
“What is your purpose here, Brienne?”
“I thought I had lost you, and I thought I would never be able to tell you. Seeing you here, alive, accomplished, breathtakingly beautiful, it…it felt like a second chance I never deserved to have.”
“Tell me what?”
“Not a day goes by that I don’t regret walking away from you. I’m sorry.”
The unexpectedness of the apology took you by surprise and you turned to her, only to find her much closer than you expected. The words you were thinking of saying died in your throat as you drowned in the maelstrom of feelings within her eyes. She hesitatingly reached a hand over to cup your cheek, as if afraid you’ll suddenly disappear, and her voice was low and broken with a heartache you instantly recognized. It was twin to your own.
“I love you. I always have. I’m sorry I’m only telling you now. I know it’s too late.”
Her eyes swam with tears, and her face was suddenly getting closer and closer. You reached with a hand behind her neck and pulled her even closer, whispering against her lips, as if it was a secret meant only for her and her alone.
“It’s not too late if we’re alive.”
Liked it? You can find all of my fics on my fanfiction masterlist!
#brienne x reader#brienne of tarth x reader#brienne of tarth/reader#game of thrones fanfiction#got#dianneking#dianneking fanfiction#dianneking writes#dragonmist fanfiction#gwendoline christie fanfiction#gwendoline christie characters#tw:war#tw:wwii#tw:hospitals#tw:wounds#tw:bombing#tw: hospedalization#angst#angst with a happy ending#wlw#gender neutral reader#no y/n#tw: breakup#may trope mayhem 2023
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Behind The Scenes...
Britchester Brigade Naval Vessel, International Waters, 11:56am
Rose: When will I disembark?
Matt: Disembark?
Rose: The med-bay discharged me, I’m all patched up and they’re happy with my levels of hydration. So when can I disembark to go back to the Villa?
Ben: You’re… you’re not disembarking, Rosie.
Rose: What do you mean?
Matt: You’re going back to Glimmerbrooke with us.
Rose: No, no I can’t. I haven’t seen Ramses-
Ben: Ramses is fine, he and his mother are safe and sound.
Rose: At the Villa! Where I also live!
Matt: You are still an Imperial Princess, a citizen of the Empire, and second in the line of succession, which means you need permission from Mama to leave.
Rose: Which she’s given me. Because I’m engaged to Selvadorada.
Matt: Which she has rescinded.
Rose: …what?
Ben: She wants you safe, Rosie, Mama only wants to keep you safe.
Rose: By keeping me from my fiance? From my people?
Ben: They’re not your people yet. And while Windenburg has been expelled from Selvadorada, that doesn’t mean they won’t attack again. It’s a war zone there.
Rose: So Mama is content to let Ramses and his mum live in a war zone?
Matt: She can’t do anything about them! But she can protect you. And I agree with her. I will not search through a dangerous jungle to try to find my daughter again, wondering if she’s dead or alive!
Rose: Daddy, you have to let me go-
Matt: Enough. This conversation is over. You’re going back to the Empire with us, and will return to Selvadorada when the war is over and if it’s safe for you to do so.
Rose: So you and Ben can enlist, go off to the front and risk your lives, but when I want to stand by my adopted home, to prove my loyalty, suddenly the war is too dangerous.
Ben: It’s not like that Rosie, and you know it. Mama wouldn’t have any of us on the front if she could help it. Get some sleep, we’ll be home by tomorrow night.
#tw:war#tw: war#ts4#ivanov legacy#ts4 simblr#ts4 legacy#behind the scenes#prince matthew#prince benedict#princess rosalind
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i hate with all of my heart our prime minister for choosing to stand with the apartheid nation who chose to speak with their minister who chose to say that he hopes this war will end with few casualties who refuses to acknowledge that greece and palestine have been sister nations for decades, the arguably best prime minister was cordial friends with a former palenestinian prime minister, palestine has helped alleviate greece's debt, i have family in palestine, there are orthodox churches and greek priests in palestine some deceased right now, the church has been bombed, partially destroyed, why does he choose not to show any sympathy for them?
#tw: current events#tw:war#selene's musings#i know it's because he wants to be america's dog soooooooo bad#but i like to think he cares for fellow orthodox people#maybe
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An Eala Bhàn The White Swan
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The two men at the door led him to a large open room,Cosmo tried to take in as much as he could but he couldn’t see through his tears. He knew he wouldn’t leave the bunker alive.
They dumped him in front of the man in charge and the villager’s daughter while he continued to plead for his life. He’d never sobbed as much as he did while waiting for them to say something.
Suddenly he felt himself being dragged over to a chair and was commanded to sit. Images of torture and those horrible Victorian executions he’d read about flooded his mind, they were surely going to kill him now.
To his surprise, the villager’s daughter spoke.
“I have a proposition”, she said
Cosmo stayed silent so she continued, “You will work for us”.
Cosmo knew that saying no was not an option so he nodded his head while his tears dripped down to his uniform.
#sims 4 gameplay#sims 4 legacy#ts4 legacy#ts4 gameplay#ts4 decades challenge#gen7#scatterfield legacy#1970s#tw:war#tw: kidnap mention
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Robbie’s been struggling again recently, with pressure mounting at both home and work.
#tw: mental health#tw:war#sims3#sims 3 legacy#rothschildlegacy3#robertrothschild#decadeslegacychallenge#1940s
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A indigenous person explained a book they were reading about societies implicit thirst for blood to me. I think the OG version of Kino’s Journey best recapitulates the particulars. It’s demented and I think it’s one of the points Buddhism achieves to make well. While we kill and eat animals with indignity the seed of compassion is continually flushed out. Also the dunking on twitter on the vegan explaining rather fuck than eat animals ignoring that if you aren’t fucking animals you aren’t fucking.
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LA GUERRA DI PIERO | FABRIZIO DE ANDRÉ
tw:death/war
Dormi sepolto in un campo di grano
You sleep buried in a wheat field
Non è la rosa, non è il tulipano
It's not the rose nor the tulip
Che ti fan veglia dall'ombra dei fossi
That are watching over you from the shadow of the moats
Ma sono mille papaveri rossi
But it's a thousand red poppies
Lungo le sponde del mio torrente
Along my river's banks
Voglio che scendano i lucci argentati
I want to see silver pikes descend
Non più i cadaveri dei soldati
Not the soldiers' dead bodies anymore
Portati in braccio dalla corrente
Taken in the arms by the running water
Così dicevi ed era d'inverno
You were saying so and it was winter
E come gli altri verso l'inferno
And like the others towards hell
Te ne vai triste come chi deve
You're going, sad as those who have to
Il vento ti sputa in faccia la neve
Wind is spitting snow on your face
Fermati Piero, fermati adesso
Stop yourself Piero, stop now
Lascia che il vento ti passi un po' addosso
Let the wind move a bit more over you
Dei morti in battaglia ti porti la voce
You carry with you the voice of those who are dead in the battle
Chi diede la vita ebbe in cambio una croce
Who gave life got a cross in exchange
Ma tu non lo udisti e il tempo passava
But you didn't listen and time was passing
Con le stagioni a passo di giava
With seasons at java dance's rhythm
Ed arrivasti a passar la frontiera
And you arrived to pass the border
In un bel giorno di primavera
In a very nice spring day
E mentre marciavi con l'anima in spalle
And as you were marching with the soul on your shoulders
Vedesti un uomo in fondo alla valle
You noticed a man at the bottom of the valley
Che aveva il tuo stesso identico umore
Who had your same mood
Ma la divisa di un altro colore
But the uniform of a different color
Sparagli Piero, sparagli ora
Shoot him Piero, shoot him now
E dopo un colpo sparagli ancora
And after one shot shoot him again
Fino a che tu non lo vedrai esangue
Until you'll see him washed out
Cadere in terra a coprire il suo sangue
Fall on the ground to cover his blood
E se gli sparo in fronte o nel cuore
And if I shoot him in his forehaed or in his heart
Soltanto il tempo avrà per morire
He'll have only the time to die
Ma il tempo a me resterà per vedere
But I'll have the time to see
Vedere gli occhi di un uomo che muore
To see the eyes of a man who dies
E mentre gli usi questa premura
And while you gift him this kindness
Quello si volta, ti vede e ha paura
He turns, sees you and gets scared
Ed imbracciata l'artiglieria
And embraced the artillery
Non ti ricambia la cortesia
Doesn't gift you back the courtesy
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento
You fell on the ground without a sound
E ti accorgesti in un solo momento
And you got aware in a single moment
Che il tempo non ti sarebbe bastato
That time wouldn't have been enough
A chiedere perdono per ogni peccato
To ask for forgiveness for each of your sins
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento
You fell on the ground without a sound
E ti accorgesti in un solo momento
And you got aware in a single moment
Che la tua vita finiva quel giorno
That your life was ending that day
E non ci sarebbe stato un ritorno
And there wouldn't have been a comeback
Ninetta mia, a crepare di maggio
My Ninetta, to die in May
Ci vuole tanto, troppo coraggio
You need a lot, too much courage
Ninetta bella, dritto all'inferno
My beautiful Ninetta, right to hell
Avrei preferito andarci in inverno
I'd have rather go in winter
E mentre il grano ti stava a sentire
And while the wheat was listening to you
Dentro alle mani stringevi il fucile
Between your hands you were holding your shotgun
Dentro alla bocca stringevi parole
Inside your mouth you were keeping words
Troppo gelate per sciogliersi al sole
Too iced to melt under the sun
Dormi sepolto in un campo di grano
You sleep buried in a wheat field
Non è la rosa, non è il tulipano
It's not the rose nor the tulip
Che ti fan veglia dall'ombra dei fossi
That are watching over you from the shadow of the moats
Ma sono mille papaveri rossi
But it's a thousand red poppies
#tw:death#tw:war#it#italian#italiano#langblr#italian language#italian langblr#language#canzoni songs#traduzioni#de andré#la guerra di piero#music#musica#musica italiana#lingua italiana#italianblr#italian music#italian culture#against war#Youtube
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Trigger warning
To all those who have been seeking distraction from the horror going down in Europe in the last few days: this will be a safe site. I will not post much but if I do, it will be the usual content. My mental health is rather stable at the moment compared to the past, but I need a safe place. And I want to provide that to others, too who maybe can't bear all that is going on right now.
However, my conscience and sympathy with the Ukrainian people forbid me not to address the current events at least once. I will put a trigger warning on all related posts. If you're in a place where you can't deal with seeing even more news about it, please
block #tw:war
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Behind The Scenes...
Selvadoradan Jungle, Selvadorada, 10:15pm
Part II
Rose: Daddy!!
*Rose runs to her father’s arms*
Rose: I can’t believe you’re really…
*Rose passes out from exhaustion*
Matt: Don’t worry, my little girl, I’ve got you. Whitland! Get that Windenburgian in cuffs. Marin! Wellness check on the girl!
Ben: Rosie! Is she alright?
Matt: She’ll be fine, she just needs rest and safety.
Gio: Excuse me, Sir. Did… did Windenburg win the invasion?
Matt: No, unfortunately for you, Selvadorada is free.
Itzel: Wait, you can’t arrest him, he’s one of the good guys, he helped you out!
Gio: It’s okay, this is what needs to be done.
Itzel: What if the Empress decides to lock you up along with your brother?
Gio: I trust her to keep her word. I helped them during the war, I saved her daughter, I trust her to protect me.
Itzel: I can’t.. I can’t lose you either.
*she kisses him*
Wendelin (Whitland): Time to go.
Gio: you won’t lose me. I’m coming right back for you.
Itzel: You better keep your word, Giovanni Castellano.
Gio: I swear it.
#tw:war#tw: war#ts4#ivanov legacy#ts4 simblr#ts4 legacy#behind the scenes#prince matthew#prince benedict#luke marin#lord wendelin#princess rosalind#lady itzel#lord giovanni
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Gemma Harding Aesthetic
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In The Sunset
uhm, have some C!Schlatt angst I wrote while thinking about an AU where him and Puffy used to be married and the Dreamsonas(Mamacita, XD and Dream), Drista and Tubbo were their kids-
TW: Drinking, Mentions of Death, War, Puffy crying
Notes: Schlatt calls Puffy Roulette and she calls him Bruiser in this AU because *mwah* tough sheep couple
The Ram hybrid sat with his ex wife in the parlor of the white house. The dying light of the sunset spilled in from the tall windows, painting the both of them in a gorgeous orange glow. His horns reflecting the light slightly and the white parts of her hair seeming a pretty orangey pink in the light. He thought, in this moment, that there was nothing more beautiful than the way she looked in the glow. The two of them were drinking together, one last time. Tomorrow was the war, the great final battle for L'Manberg. Schlatt knew this was probably the last happy moment he'd get and he intended to make it last. He smiled at the woman, the one who'd given him his children and some of the best years of his life. He gently brushed away a few stray tears. "Please don't cry, Roulette, even when I'm gone, I'm always gonna be with you, okay?" he said softly, putting down his drink. He cupped the woman's cheek, smiling at her, a gentle smile, one that had always only been for her. "You'll be okay, you always are, my kickass bride." he said. He then gently kissed her, nothing romantic behind the gesture, the action purely platonic and a final goodbye to the woman he'd once loved more than anything. For he knew, if he didn't die in battle tomorrow, his disease and his alcoholism would surely claim him. "I will always love you, Puffy."
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Worldbuilding stuff-Old empire
Caleb is a native to the isles of Elmore. A place once home to many different kingdoms and nomadic tribes that existed in an uncertain state of piece enforced by an organisation called the Bardr Ky (An religious council formed of representative from all of the Isles religions formed with the intention of trying to solve hostility between nations without violence.) and a loose isles spanning alliance known as the Quorum of the Sapphire throne.
This loose alliance and religious council maintained an uneasy peace on the isles until the Old empire’s invasions. A unwillingness to act quickly on the part of the Quorum and the Bardr Ky along with an technological advantage in favour of the empire resulting in a large part of the isles falling into imperial control.
With the resultant war ending up in a status quo, the Quorum (reorganising itself as the Free Isles alliance headed by the Quorum of the High Queen) managing to hold Elmore Isles heartlands while the empire kept them from retaking anything lost.
Time quickly began to result in a number of things. The border solidifying between the ‘colonial territories’ and the ‘Free Isles’, Imperial and native cultures beginning to unify and become something...different in the colonial territory from culture in the free isles. An uneasy, unofficial peace reigning between the empire and the free isles only occasionally being broken by war.
This state of affairs continued until a time known as the fracturing when Kaidwyran emperor Faustus V was assassinated leading to his three sons causing a civil war in their fight for the throne. This chaos allowing for the Colonies to break away and form their own kingdoms.
It was into one of these kingdoms Caleb was born.
[I’m debating on whether or not to add a few more of these posts, use this as a master post and maybe update it with links and stuff to different worldbuilding posts, would that be of interest?]
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It was as though Robbie was swallowed up by his mind. He was right back there, in the war, and he couldn’t find a way out.
#tw:war#tw: mental breakdown#tw: mental health#tw:trauma#sims3#sims 3 legacy#rothschildlegacy3#robertrothschild#decadeslegacychallenge#1940s
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Immigrants
They came from distant lands
they were moved for different reasons
they arrived at different times
And worked during different seasons
Some have no idea
about when their ancestors came
distant ties to their background
to the cultures they claim
but the immigrants from my heritage
are here alive and well
and you’d be wise to listen
to the stories they tell
One side comes from Guatemala
a place filled with trouble and strife
a place where my father and uncles
spent their early life
a river filled with trash
is where they used to play
with a price tag they didn’t realize
their later life would pay
An earthquake then happened
and shook them out of their home
so they moved to America
where their father would roam
A place with hotels
where they could find work
making the beds
or cooking the pork
but my grandparents did not want their children
to stay in this life
they gave the children and education
to escape from the strife
The other side came from Poland
during a time of great war
a time which the world
came to abhor
Babcia remembers the bombs
falling on her home
she remembers the people going ‘missing’
when they decided to roam
She went from Poland, to Germany and to the Ukraine
without moving a muscle
before the war started to wain
Babchia met Dziadek before leavening to the sates
where they found the hotels
and spent some time serving the plates
which is where Guatemala met Poland
and where I have lived my life
in relative comfort
only able to imagine their strife
but I keep their stories fresh in my mind
before I happen to leave these lessons behind
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Together
Melanie screamed. It was like slow motion.
Diana, crumpling to the ground, blood spraying into the air and her hair flying as a cruel figure stabbed their blade into her stomach. Melanie barely heard the clattering of Diana's own sword, just as Melanie brought out her own with a shing noise.
The attacker turned towards Melanie, and Melanie saw a cruel grin, looking behind her. She couldn't even turn before she felt agony; a searing pain in her back, as she too, screamed again.
The blade was ripped out of her back. Melanie turned, her eyes wide, feeling the blood in her mouth. She saw a man, also with a blade, dressed in the uniform of the enemy they were currently in battle with. He and his fellow grinned, then turned to murder others.
Melanie collapsed on the ground, her sword falling. She fell beside Diana.
Diana turned her head to Melanie, but she didn't look scared. She looked.. calm. Even with the battle raging on around them, the screams, the sobs, the crying and the clashing of weapons and the hisses of curses.
Melanie was scared. She was scared, because she knew help wouldn't reach them in time. She didn't want to die. She wanted to stay with Diana.. Grow old and watch..watch their lives pass. Together.
Diana's fingers twitched. She grabbed Melanie's hand, and smiled, her teeth stained with blood. "It's okay," Diana muttered, her voice breathy.
Melanie turned her head, eyes filling with tears. The blood around them was looking into one giant puddle, their blood mixed from their wounds. "Diana.."
Diana have her hand a gentle squeeze. "It'll be okay."
Melanie nodded. Diana smiled, and Melanie felt the cold metal of her wedding ring. "Diana, I really love you," Melanie croaked. Her vision was becoming blurry. The edges were going black. The pool of their blood growing.
"love you," Diana muttered back. Her eyes closed.
Melanie returned her attention to the sky above, drowning our the awful sounds around them.
The clouds were breaking. The sun was leaking through. Melanie raised her other hand, it taking all her strength. She stretched her hand out to the sky, gazing at the blue sky as the beam of sunlight rested down upon them.
Melanie turned back to Diana. Diana's eyes were closed, but she was smiling. Her eyes half opened as Melanie stared into them, admiring how the light made them glint.
Diana closed her eyes and relaxed.
Melanie closed her eyes and relaxed too, with one, final breath.
They died, with one breath, together.
#whump#writing#ocs#thoughts?#tw:death#tw:stabs#tw:violence#tw:blood#tw:war#whumpee#death whump#oc writing
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