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ellieluvr420 · 6 months

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Eye for an Eye Pt.4

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

I want to quickly stress that this is a darker fic and there will be a lot of darker, possibly triggering themes to do with mental health throughout so take that as a warning. I likely won't do warnings for each part because part of this fic for me is that you don't know what's going to happen until you read it so please do not read if you find graphic descriptions of mental illness and topics surrounding that triggering. But if you do read, thank you so much, this story is really important to me and I appreciate any interaction whatsoever!

Had this in my drafts and wasn’t gonna post until i finished chap 21 of friends?never but @moonspowder is holding their breath so had to get a move along 🤗

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You waited for Abby to fall asleep, it didn’t take long, she was clearly exhausted from the day of crying and grieving her beloved friends. You watched her sleep for a little while, imagining what it would look like when she wouldn’t wake again but you dragged yourself away to pack your backpack ready to go back to Ellie. You grimaced at the thought of seeing Ellie again, after your dramatic exit earlier you were sure you wouldn’t get a warm greeting but you didn’t care either way. You were going to make sure Nora died, not to see her.

The walk there was tranquil, you heard a few screeches here and there but that was normal, it didn’t bother you, you had managed to sneak into the weapon armoury as its never got someone working it overnight and you were quite adept at picking locks so the added weight of your weapons and ammunition in your backpack acted as an anchor, comforting you and keeping you on this plane of existence instead of floating away into your mind like you had been all day. You had a rifle over your shoulder and Ellie’s switchblade in your hand, every time you looked down at it you smiled at the memory of pointing her own knife at her as you left earlier, it felt like you were mocking her and you liked it.

You practically skipped up the steps of the fire escape, bounding in through the window gracefully and sauntering through to the stage where she was already sitting on one of the chairs in the front row waiting for you. You smirked at her as you made your way towards her where she scowled at you.

“You’re a fucking bitch you know that?” She spat.

“Well that’s not very nice.”

“I specifically asked you not to tell Jesse and you tell him at the first opportunity. What the fuck was that for?”

“Payback.” She rolls her eyes and stands, holding out her hand, you look at her puzzled until you remember the switchblade still firmly planted in your palm. You fold it back together and place it in your back pocket as you smile.

“You’re being weird, what’s wrong with you?”

“You don’t know what’s weird and what isn’t with me Ellie, you don’t know me so stop acting like you do ‘kay?” That didn’t help, stop being so defensive. She was right, this wasn’t you but if you had been you, you would’ve let her kill you before you agreed to hurt Abby, but you’re not you, and that’s the point. “I didn’t come here to chat so are you ready?”

“Yep.” You turn on your heel and start walking back towards the window.

“Jesse not joining us?”

“No, he needs to rest his ankle and he’s not the biggest fan of you so it was best he stayed.”

“Can’t imagine why he doesn’t like me.” You flash a coy grin over your shoulder and Ellie chuckles before she can even think to hold it in which makes her scowl in your direction even more. As you bend over to crawl through the window you feel Ellie’s fingers brush against your ass before a hand comes up and grabs your hip, holding you in place. You squirm and curse at her as her free hand dives into your pocket and retrieves her switchblade. You glare at her over your shoulder, and she sticks her tongue out at you. Childish. Even the subtle blush of her cheeks angered you as you made your way down the fire escape, her following closely behind.

As you trailed along the dark paths of Seattle towards the park you planned to cut through, you wondered what could have happened if you had met Ellie before, under better circumstances. You know if you had met her before you had been ruined, darkened by the torment of love and hatred, you would have liked her, found her charming. Anything that you would’ve liked about her only drove you further from her, the thought of getting close to someone again, feeling for someone again, it made your blood run cold. You’d do whatever you had to do to keep your distance until everything was over.

You reach a dead end that has you huffing as you notice the double doors slightly ajar to your right. “Fuck’s sake.” You mutter to yourself as Ellie comes to stand next to you.

“What?”

“Was hoping we wouldn’t have to cut through any buildings, but I guess I was wrong.”

“No hold on a minute, if you can get me to the top of the wall I can pull you up.” You quirk an eyebrow at her, challenging her declaration, it wasn’t that you didn’t think she was strong, it was just a very high wall, it seemed like a long shot.

“Well worth a try because these buildings are crawling with infected typically.” She nods and you walk to the wall, pressing your back against it and cupping your hands together.

“You ready?” She checks as she puts her foot into your hands.

“As I’ll ever be.” You nod and in sync she jumps up as you boost her and somehow she actually manages to grasp onto the top edge and pull herself up. It was impressive to watch, you hadn’t met anyone as adept as Abby until you met her. She lowers herself down and reaches an arm out to you.

“Just jump and grab my hand and then don’t fucking let go okay?”

“Yeah I got it.” You take a breath and leap as high as you can, the second you feel your hand in hers, you breathe a sigh of relief, she starts slowly pulling you up and the second you can you grab onto the ledge to help her for the last bit. Once you’re both over the wall she stands with her hands on her hips and a smug look on her face. “I swear if you say I told you so.”

“I wasn’t gonna say a thing, you said it for me.” She smiles and you continue walking without looking to see if she followed but you know she has from the faint patter of her footsteps.

The entrance to the park comes into view at the same time that you hear a high-pitched whistling. “The fuck is that?” Ellie whispers.

“Scars. We’ll take it slow and just try and sneak around them okay, keep your head down and stay quiet.”

“Yes ma’am.” You glare at her before creeping forward, this time checking she’s following. The whistles grew louder as you moved deeper into the forest until you heard a blood-curling scream, followed by begs and pleads from another WLF soldier. “What the fuck.” Ellie whispers next to you as you both see the soldiers strung up from trees, one with his organs dangling from his body and the other flailing about desperately as he screams and tries to bargain for his life. “Do you know them?”

“Yeah I know the one they haven’t cut open yet. Daniel.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m not.” She scoffs in disbelief at your bluntness as you keep moving until you hear the swish of an arrow cutting through air and the fleshy squelch of it landing in a body. You turn to see Ellie lying on the floor grunting as she yanks at the arrow. You immediately spot the scar heading straight for you and you lunge at her, digging your knife into her neck and yanking it out, her blood splattering over you, painting you skin red. Just more blood on your hands. It will all be over soon. You return to Ellie and kneel beside her. “Hey, hey, let me do it.” She nods and as you snap the arrow so you can pull it out easier, she gasps and squeezes your arm as she clamps her eyes shut. Her hand burns your skin, you needed to get this done quickly.

“You better be right-handed.” You say trying to lighten the mood as you yank the arrow from her left shoulder, she whimpers slightly but as soon as it’s out, she breathes a sigh of relief.

“Yeah I’m right-handed.” She watches as you pull your backpack off and retrieve a bandage from the front pocket. “You came prepared.”

“I was actually planning to leave this time so yeah I did. Take your shirt off.”

“Wh- why?”

“So I can wrap this bandage around it. I’m not tryna cop a feel, relax. Just take your arm out of the shirt.”

“Right.” She winces as she pulls her left arm from the shirt and you press the end of the bandage to the seeping wound before grabbing her hand and pressing it onto the hole firmly. You wrap the bandage round her shoulder and under her armpit as tight as you can before ripping it and tying it off then helping her back into her shirt.

“You okay?”

“Yeah but we need to keep moving.” You help her up and begin sprinting towards the exit of the park until you’re no longer surrounded by foliage, instead comforted by the urban forest that you found a lot easier to navigate.

“See through those two buildings there, that’s the hospital. We’re not that far away now.” You were half telling yourself that and half telling her. It’s not like it would get easier the closer you got to the hospital, but the closer you got, the closer Nora was to meeting her demise. That’s why you were here. To make sure she died, that’s it.

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The sound of ‘it was a good day’ by Ice Cube rang through the halls, one of yours and Abby’s favourite’s. You thought it was ironic, that particular song playing while Nora gets slaughtered, poetic almost. “There’s a door on the other side of the room, I’m gonna go round and make sure she can’t run through there. Just wait a couple minutes before you go in, yeah?”

“You’re not coming in with me?” And let Nora blow yours and Abby’s relationship wide open? No, you were not going in there.

“No, I’m gonna make sure no one comes and finds us. Why? You want a little company?”

“You made your point.”

“Make it hurt.” You mutter before walking off round the corner to go find the door. The song ringing through your ears causing a slideshow of memories with Abby to flash through your mind, you shake them away as the door comes into view, you press your ear to the door and as you hear Ellie’s voice inside you get to work barricading the door, you slam yourself into the large metal cabinet to scrape it across the floor until it’s firmly in front of the door. You moved slowly to make as little noise as possible, the music covering your plight well. You go back to pressing your ear against the door just as you hear Ellie’s disgruntled voice.

“You fucking cunt- Agh!” A crash and then the handle shaking violently as Nora tries to make her escape, you can’t stop yourself from popping up in the glass pane of the door and smiling with a little wave and tilt of your head. She whispers your name as her face screws up before you disappear from the glass again leaving her and Ellie alone. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you barely felt human anymore, it’s her fault, it’s their fault, it’s your own fault too but you’d fix that soon enough. You appear at the other door and glance through the window. Nora’s on the floor, unmoving as Ellie stands over her with a large metal pipe in her hand, the end dripping with crimson. You notice the tremor of the pipe, the rigid stance of Ellie as she stands over Nora, and then she thrashes the pipe down onto her, again and again. Was this what Ellie had witnessed when she found you at Hillcrest? You needed to get moving so you enter the room quietly and as she lifts the pipe again you grab it and yank it out of her hand. She spins to face you and you feel like she might kill you there and then for stopping her. “You got her. We gotta go.” She nods and lets you lead her out of the room, and out of the hospital into the cool night air. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t move without a nudge from you, she doesn’t notice when a runner creeps up on her from behind until you’re ripping it off of her, throwing it to the ground and stomping its head into the cement underneath you. If you don’t sort her out soon, she’d get you both killed so you drag her into a nearby house, sitting her down on the sofa before checking it’s clear and securing the doors and windows then returning to her. “Ellie, I need you to focus. We need to get back to the theatre, so I need you to focus.”

“I- I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?”

“I should’ve just killed her. I’m as bad as them. I made it hurt.” She looked up at you and suddenly that familiar feeling you thought you were free from comes rushing back like it had never left. Guilt was crushing, it was worse than any physical pain you could ever describe. Your whole body ached and twinged as every nerve felt like it was on fire. You crouched down to make her look at you, attempting to distract yourself from your own inner turmoil with hers.

“Ellie, look at me.” Her eyes flick up to yours as you cup her cheeks with your hands. “She fucking deserved it, they all deserve it. You’re gonna do this and you’re gonna go back home and forget about this place and everything in it. You’re gonna go be happy with your girlfriend and your friends and you’re gonna move on but you have to make it out of here alive first, so I need you to focus.” She doesn’t say anything, she just mirrors your own hands as she cups your cheeks, your skin burns.

“I don’t know how to be happy anymore, I don’t think I can go back to the life I had before all of this.” She leans in and your eyes widen as you put a hand on her chest.

“Ellie, don’t do this to yourself. Dina is what you need.”

“I don’t know how to be what she needs.” She leans in again and you can’t shake the feeling you’re taking advantage of her, she’s vulnerable, she’s grieving, you can’t do this.

“Ellie, you don’t want this. You’re confused, this would be a mistake that you’ll regret every day. Think about Dina.”

“She doesn’t look at me the same anymore, Jesse doesn’t other, they don’t get it. You do. Please, I know what I need, I need this. I need to feel real, like I’m not just a heartless killer, I know you understand that.” Fuck, she’s right. You know it’s wrong, everything’s wrong, she’s not Abby but in your eyes, Abby isn’t Abby anymore. She changed and she changed you with her. Why did cheating feel so wrong when you were fantasising and planning on killing her? Why did you feel bad for a girl you hadn’t even seen? Everything you were doing was driving you further into that bottomless black pit that you’d never escape from. It was pointless trying to fight the darkness slowly squeezing the life out of you, so why are you still trying? It would all go away soon so why fight it? You started all of this because the hurt they had enacted on you caused a large gaping abscess to form where your heart used to be but now, now you had lost control, blinded by your rage, by your bloodlust. She was right, you needed to feel real, just once more before it all ends, before everything catches up to you, it would sooner or later, catch up to you. You just needed to feel real.

You sighed and looked into her eyes before nodding gently and leaning towards her, closing the already small gap between you both. Your lips pressed together, cautiously at first, her hands moving down to your hips and squeezing tentatively. This wasn’t right, you half expected to see a monster looking back at you next time you looked in a mirror, how could a broken heart do this much damage? Were you overreacting? Were you like this all along and Abby just gave you an excuse to show your true colours? You just needed comfort, affection, from someone who hadn’t set your heart on fire and stomped it into the ground. You just needed some comfort.

Ellie sucked your tongue into her mouth as you straddled her hips, desperation seeping through your pores as you latched onto her hair and yanked her head back to give you access to her neck, you pecked at the skin just below her ear and as you went to suck you had to stop yourself, you couldn’t leave any traces of your evil on her pale skin. Her hands squeezed at your thighs as she nudged your cheek with her nose to get you to face her once again. The air was dense, it was clogging your throat, any time you pulled away you felt like the air was sucked out of you and your body was being crushed. You couldn’t take it, you couldn’t understand how it made you feel so much more immoral than anything you had done over the past few days, yet it still made you feel alive for the first time in months.

Ellie could barely think, barely function, all she could focus on was your lips on hers as her hands roamed your body. Any time Dina would pop into her mind she’d just press herself further into you, it blocked everything else out. How could she go back to her normal life, after everything, after you? She knew you didn’t feel the same way, she could tell, this was just a necessity to you, a distraction, but to her, it was everything, it was like you were letting her be the version of her that rose from the ashes of Joel’s death, not trapping her in a cage of who she used to be.

“I’m sorry Ellie, I’m so, so sorry.” Your voice was cracking and trembling as you spoke but when you opened your eyes to see hers still closed, no reaction to what you had said, the panic set in. Not again. “I’m sorry Ellie, please hear me, I’m sorry, I’ve ruined you too. I’m sorry.” You were practically screaming as tears rolled down your cheeks. This time her eyes snapped open again but they were only filled with lust, something else that you couldn’t decipher but you didn’t want to.

“I needed this too, thank you.” She breathed out and your stomach churned, your hand immediately going to your cheek to feel that it was completely dry, you heaved at the feeling and jumped off of her, you’ve lost it, you’re barely connected to your body anymore, some outside force controlling it.

Her eyes went glassy as her jaw dropped open slightly at your sudden change in demeanour. “Did I do something wrong?” Her voice was small, shameful as she averted her eyes from your manic ones.

“No I- I heard something, we need to move, we’re too close to the hospital.”

“Oh... okay.” She looked like a beaten puppy as she stood and grabbed her backpack, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. You tore your eyes away from her to look out the window and make sure it was safe to leave before turning back to her and taking in her features, her hair messy and tangled, her cheeks blushed, and her lips parted as her chest rose and fell heavily. You stared as she stared back until you took a breath and went to reach for the doorhandle, but it wasn’t there. Instead, your fingers found the bottom of the window that you had left ajar upon your exit of the theatre. You snapped your head towards it and screeched as you yanked it upwards and threw yourself through the opening. You turned back and you felt your body go cold as Abby was standing behind you, climbing through the window with eyes so dark you thought they were black. The blue was no longer there, replaced by inky darkness that matched the background, the theatre seeping away from your vision and leaving only you and her. You screamed and cried as she inched closer to you, you tried to scramble away but she snatched your ankle back towards her and climbed on top of you, squeezing your chin as her eyes stared into your soul and sucked it out of you. Your whole body tingled before going numb as a single tear rolled down your cheek at the sick grin that twisted her lips upwards mocked you.

“Hey, come on, wake up, fuck please wake up, what the fuck?” Ellie’s voice boomed through your head, light blinded you as you used every ounce of strength in you to open your eyes only to come face to face with Ellie peering over you. “What the fuck was that? You just passed out as you went through the window.”

“S-sorry, I- I dunno what happened.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t fucking know.” You could never tell her what you had seen, what was happening to you, you couldn’t even begin to verbalise it. You sat up and surveyed your surroundings, you were at the theatre, you had blacked out for at least an hour, best case. You needed to fix this, you needed to get home before Abby wakes up.

“Are you okay? Let me help you up.” She goes to lift you up but you smack her hands away, you didn’t know why you were agitated but you were, you needed her not to touch you or look at you or breathe near you because your skin was itching and you felt like you were a bomb seconds away from exploding.

“I got it, I’m fine, okay? I’m probably just over-tired.” You walk away from her and disappear through the curtains as she follows you down to the chairs where you dropped your backpack and began pacing. She sat beside the backpack and pulled her arm out of her grey t-shirt once again to look at the bandages that were now stained red and leaking onto the hand she pressed on the wound.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got anymore bandages you wouldn’t mind sharing.”

“Yeah, front pocket of my backpack.” You would’ve got them for her but you couldn’t stand still right now, you needed to keep moving as you begged for the memory of the journey from the hospital to the theatre to return to you but there was not even a second of it you could remember.

Ellie watched you for a second before going to the front pocket of your backpack and routing around it. Her hands brushed over something thin and smooth, a piece of paper but not like the paper in her journal, like film almost. She knew she shouldn’t snoop but you didn’t seem like the type to share and she just wanted to know more about you so she flipped the polaroid over to look at the picture and the sight made bile rise to her throat as she clutched it and brought it closer to her face. You were completely unaware of her actions as your back was turned to her mostly but her eyes still flicked between you and the polaroid. “What the fuck is this?” She spat as she stood and stormed over to you.

“Hm?” You turned and immediately a polaroid fluttered at you, landing on the floor at your feet. Your hand shook as you picked it up and realised what she was talking about. The polaroid was of you and Abby, her kissing your cheek and you beaming at the camera, with ‘my love’ written in sharpie on the thick white border. “I- Ellie...” You whispered as you refused to look up at her.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” Her hands thrust you backwards sending you stumbling as she reaches behind her jeans and yanks her pistol out, aiming it right at your heart. You don’t move, you don’t look away, you just stare back at her eyes that were fiery with rage as her lips sneered at you.

tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv@a-little-bit-of-everybody@chrry1ovr

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llyfrenfys · 8 months

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Sooner or later I've gotta make a better post regarding the appropriation of indigenous terminology by proponents of (certain kinds of) Welsh nationalism. But for now here's a very whistle-stop version of that post. I have a degree in Celtic Studies so these topics are very near and dear to my heart.

[Note: I wrote this post originally during a migraine. I'm revisiting the draft while I'm ill but hopefully can fix this up into something somewhat understandable. As always, this is only a very brief description of the history and I strongly reccomend reading about these topics in your own time to develop a deeper understanding of them. These are topics not even well known in Britain, but if you can spend a short time just to read this, you can help to combat misinformation about British (particularly Welsh) history - and that could aid in preventing the misappropriation of history in the long run. Diolch eto for reading!]

Very often, (certain) Welsh nationalists use terminology that positions the Welsh as if they are an 'indigenous' population who have been 'colonised'. They use language (which in this climate) heavily draws upon the language typically used for peoples who are the victims of British colonialism (of which Wales was an active participant). There's multiple issues with this and many of them lie in whether its appropriate to use this language (regardless of its accuracy or not) as a country which was actively involved in the colonisation of much of the world. What I mean in short is that additional language is needed which doesn't step on the toes of endangered cultures and groups directly affected by British colonialism.

Wales not only participated in British colonialism as a whole (alongside Scotland, Ireland* and England) but itself colonised parts of patagonia in Argentina.

I can't think of any similar terminology to 'indigenous' or 'colonised' which would also get the idea which is meant across. 'Native' in certain contexts is permissible, e.g. 'native speaker' in the context of a Welsh speaker. But in other contexts other than langauge, things get tricky when you argue 'nativeness' (this is a topic I will come back to - especially re. Celtic as a language descriptor vs Celtic as a so-called ethnicity). When (certain) Welsh nationalists talk about being 'indigenous' , being 'native' or 'colonised' what is meant by that?

(Map of the expansion of the Bronze Age Bell Beaker culture circa 2400 BC in Britain and Ireland) - from this map

What makes a Welsh person 'indigenous' to this island that doesn't immediately disqualify other peoples who also have a deep history here? Historically, the island of Britain has been lived on by many, many peoples.

In the Bronze Age you had the arrival of the Bell Beaker people. Then in the Iron-Age, you had tribes speaking (mostly) Brittonic. I say mostly, because we have direct evidence that in the Iron Age Gaulish speaking tribes also moved to parts of Britain but later became integrated with the rest of the population (which, I will add, were not a united peoples but a scattering of different groups who often went to war against each other). Then the Romans invaded Britain (and much of Western Europe) and over time integrated into the local population. So now Britain is Romano-British. Eventually the Western Roman Empire collapses and Britain enters into the sub-Roman Britain phase of its existence. Kingdoms begin to form, with the population speaking Brittonic and British-Latin. So you have different kingdoms in (what would become Wales) and in (what would become Northern England and Southern Scotland) you have more Brittonic-speaking kingdoms.

These kingdoms were also not a united peoples. They shared a language - but it's like claiming that Ancient Greeks were a united people simply because they all spoke Greek. Sparta, Athens, Cornith etc. were independent of each other and the same is true of the kingdoms of the Hen Ogledd (the Old North) and the kingdoms of Wales. They all had a common language but also went to war with each other sometimes. Eventually, the Brittonic language began to diverge into different languages. Namely, Old Welsh and Cumbric (the language spoken in what is today Cumbria, Lancashire, Northumberland and Southern Scotland). The two languages were still very closely related but had diverged by a certain point.

At the same time this is happening, Anglo-Saxons begin to arrive in what is now Kent. They form kingdoms and the Britons living there are either displaced or become absorbed into the Anglo-Saxon populace. Then the Norse rock up and conduct viking raids around the coast before finally settling in parts of the country and forming their own territories.

So now Britain has several groups living on the island (keeping in mind even before settlement from the Anglo-Saxons and the Norse that the British kingdoms were already composed of different groups themselves). Northern Scotland was also having a time re: Picts, Gaels and Britons - but we'll gloss over that for brevity. Also, Ireland was also raiding the Welsh coast at this time too.

Then the Normans rock up and in 1066 William the Conqueror, well, conquers. More history happens after this point but I will try and keep this as brief and as non-messy as I can.

So, to recap:

One of the earliest cultures in Britain was the Bell Beaker people in the Bronze Age. They had their lands settled by the Iron Age Britons ('Celts'). Then the Romans came and the 'Celts' became Romano-Britons. After the Western Roman Empire collapses the remaining population forms kingdoms with distinct political identities. These kingdoms eventually find themselves fighting the Anglo-Saxons and the Norse. Then the Normans turn up and so on and so forth.

So- which group is the original native group to Britain? (Trick question - this question cannot be satisfactorily answered in favour of one group without leaning into claims of historicity which the other groups can also claim).

Which brings me to modern Welsh identity and those who came before.

Something I see in Welsh nationalist groups is a claim to the legacy (or even claims of direct descendance from) the Iron Age Britons (commonly called Celts for shorthand, but as I said before I'm gonna get back to that point). And this narrative is what the "Welsh people are native to Britain" argument is based off of.

It may seem like #praxis to argue the Welsh people are the true inhabitants of Britain and the English are evil invaders. But you have to make *several* logical leaps to get to that point if you're genuinely arguing that point.

For starters, many more people than just the Britons (read: Romano Britons/early Brittonic kingdoms) have called Britain home since the Early Middle Ages. For example, there's the settlement of Scotland by the Gaels, the Irish settlement of certain parts of costal Wales. You have (much later) Roma and traveller groups, Jewish diaspora and many more diverse cultures and peoples existing in Britain at this time. The Romano-British population, which developed into the Early Middle Ages kingdoms of Wales and the Hen Ogledd, was also multicultural. Many black Romans started families with white Britons. By the sub-Roman period, Britain was ethnically and culturally diverse.

But those who argue in favour of a such thing as 'Celtic ethnicity' in order to support the idea Britons (and only Britons) were native to these islands typically imagine that history as white. White Brits, white Romans, white Gaels. When we know this isn't true. Did you know that the Northernmost Ancient Egyptian temple in the world is in Yorkshire because Roman Egyptians in the military brought their religion with them? Mary Beard did a fantastic documentary about a Roman Soldier from modern day Syria who was stationed at Hadrian's Wall who started a family with a British woman. Point is, that some people like to imagine a purely white Britain that they can pine for. And I'm afraid it simply isn't true. The version of history many white supremacists look to simply didn't exist.

I'll quickly bring up one last point before I draw this to a close. And it's about Celtic as a linguistic term vs Celtic as a so-called ethnicity. You see, any first year Celtic Student would tell you that there is no such thing as 'Celts'. Crazy, I know from people studying *Celtic* studies. But hear me out - there is good reasoning why (beyond language groups) Celtic is not a good term for describing an ethnic group. Much of it relates to what I've already mentioned, but we categorise Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Mann, Cornwall and Brittany as Celtic not because of the ethnicity of the people living there (which I've mentioned is pretty diverse) but because they are all places where Celtic languages are spoken. It wasn't until Edward Llwyd (d. 1709) that the term Celtic was coined to describe these languages. Up until that point, nobody was thinking of Irish and Welsh as related because the languages do not sound like they have a common origin. By extension, people didn't think of the Welsh and Irish as being the same peoples (or Celtic) either. Its only in the modern day there is a sense of Celtic identity. The Iron Age Britons were not going around calling themselves Celts. There was no common Celtic identity. But very often people argue Celticness based on a pseudohistory which insists on a false and misleading interpretation of history. Whether or not Celticness exists now is a different matter entirely. But it sure does not rest upon race or ethnicity as a qualifier. This is quite foundational stuff to first year and above Celtic Scholars, but is not generally well known outside of academia because the misinformation is quite strong. So if you read is far, diolch mawr and please share this with anyone you think might be interested in it. Any amount of knowledge of these things would greatly improve understanding of what it means to be Welsh and what it means to speak a Celtic language.

Lastly,

all of that begs us to ask the question:

What does it mean to claim nativeness in a Western European context?

More under the cut

What does it mean to claim nativeness in a Western European context? Especially in a Western Europe post-colonialism.

It means, to me, to claim what isn't our right to claim. To argue and make our points with language that isn't ours and isn't designed to be ours. That this language of indigeneity may sound appealing, but is it improper to use this terminology when our country was directly responsible for the atrocities in which this very language became relevant?

What do we do in response to the misinterpretation of our culture instead of relying on language of indigeneity? These are the questions I want to leave you with and invite you to share your thoughts on. How do we build a Wales which advocates for itself without relying upon inaccurate language which betrays a reliance upon the ahistorical to make its point?

What kind of Wales do we want to live in?

#cymraeg #welsh #cymru #cymry #cymblr #Wales #welsh language #welsh nationalism #nationalism #indigeneity #?#white supremacist mention #white nationalism cw #please add on if you have any thoughts on the matter - I'd love to hear other's takes on the topic!#this post was also mostly made when I was ill/had a migraine so it may not be perfect #but gets most of what I want across well enough I think

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loversj0y · 1 year

Text

our young nation

wilbur soot x gn! reader (note: pronouns are gn but reader is afab)

TWs: WAR, DEPICTIONS OF WOUNDS, BIRTH, PREGNANCY, ONE LINE ABT PERIODS, TALKS OF ILLNESS, MENTIONS OF DYING, SEMI-REALISTIC APPROACH TO WAR

word count: 10.7k

note: this has not been edited at all. i dont know a lot about war, but i do know hamilton and mockingjay, so. theres that. there's a playlist for this fic as well if you want to listen to what i listened to (also if this formats weirdly lmk and ill post it on ao3). have fun reading :) title is taken from dear theodosia from hamilton fic playlist

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @melunnek

Doing new things was never easy. There were always some hiccups, some strifes, some things that just kept new things from working out just as perfectly as you’d hoped. Not all these hiccups were bad per se, but they were there. Occam’s razor be damned, sometimes things are harder than they are easier.

Those hiccups might be the death of one Wilbur Soot. Mostly because, in this case, the things occurring lean far more toward the “strife” category than the “hiccup” category.

Literally.

The newness of his formed country was refreshing, L’Manburg was already growing to become a beautiful nation, just from the camaraderie seen within its walls. But the beauty of their forming country was contrasted by the growing issues of war and hardships afflicting his citizens.

So yes, war was hard. New things were hard, but they were often necessary and they often brought new, better things.

And then, of course, there was the flickering candle light in the middle of the destitute tunnel that categorized war: Love.

You weren’t originally planning to be involved in the war at all. When Wilbur had come to your door, asking about volunteering for the war, you’d politely turned him down. You made it very clear how much you supported the war efforts, and how, though you couldn’t fight, you’d be willing to help out the war efforts in any way you could.

Wilbur gave you a charming smile and let you know that your support was greatly appreciated.

Which was how you became his aid. For the leader of the rebellion, he was rather disorganized, in a literal sense, seen in the numerous papers and half-finished rations littering his desk, as well as a figurative sense, with the desk becoming a mirror image of his own mind. You helped clear the scatter, in both senses. When he’d pass out writing his pages and pages on new injustices committed by the Greater SMP, you’d be there to save his place and clear the desk.

Eventually, you were able to do far more than just clear the desk; you were able to clear his mind.

It started in conversations, when he’d ask questions aloud to himself without realizing you were in the room.

“… and the infractions pushed upon us by the members of the Greater SMP have found my people destitute, destroyed, and… deprived? No, not deprived-“

“Disregarded?” You spoke up from your place standing next to him, where you’d been carefully sorting through old unfinished drafts of his own works.

“Disregarded?” He looked up at you, giving you a flash of a smile, “Do you feel disregarded by the Greater SMP, Y/N?”

You flushed a bit under his gaze. You hadn’t actually meant to offer the word, but it had slipped out before you could stop it, “Yes.”

His smile underwent a simple change, one you’d noticed after observing his speeches and public appearances. His smile went from congressional — purely political and for show — to harboring a sense of community. It was the smile he used when he asked for volunteers. It was the smile he used when he asked people for their grievances. It was the smile he used when he listened to his citizens. It was a smile that could make you feel safe, make you feel heard. “How so? In what ways do you feel disregarded by the Greater SMP, Y/N?” He asked. It was subtle, the way he tried to say people’s names as often as possible when he spoke to them. There was something in it you recognized; a urge to get the person on your good side and the need to be liked.

You honestly couldn’t place the words that escaped you next. You had never been particularly political, but there was something about Wilbur Soot that demanded elegance and intelligence, and you felt yourself falling into line with easy compliance.

“Well, I feel disregarded in the way they command us. They have hurt our people numerous times without giving a second thought, yet they praise kindness and claim to want a peaceful end to this fighting. I feel disregarded in the fact that they claim to understand us, yet they have never spoken to me, let alone the majority of our citizens. I feel disregarded because they don’t even know my name, yet they have burned down my land. I feel disregarded because they refuse to listen to our grievances,” you took a breath as you continued, setting down the pages you’d been shuffling through. “I feel disregarded because even before the war, they did not respect us. I feel disregarded in the ways that they would bring us into their conflicts while they sat there. And most of all, I feel disregarded in the ways they have hurt my people without a care in the world, as if our lives do not matter.”

There was a moment of silence when you’d finished, and you looked back to see the leader of the rebellion giving you a look that you had never seen before upon his face: adoration. His smile fell into something softer, one that you’d seen only in short bursts, reserved for quiet moments Wilbur shared with himself in dark nights alone when he’d finished a piece he was proud of.

“Well, then,” he smiled at you genuinely, and it was the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen. “Disregarded, it is.”

From there, you went from being his aid to his advisor, helping him hone his perfectly crafted speeches. You helped clear his mind. His air of regality as leader of the rebellion kept people from feeling comfortable reaching him, yet you shared none of that sense of bravado. You didn’t want to. People came to you, told you about how they felt as citizens, and it was the biggest help to Wilbur, who no longer felt like he was grasping at straws to make sure his citizens were being heard.

Throughout it all, the best thing you offered Wilbur was not your mind, but rather your company.

There were a lot of long nights that Wilbur was used to braving alone, and yet now, you were there to provide him companionship and cure the thoughts that plagued his mind about the future of the war. Wilbur loved watching your mind work on these nights. He would throw up a question into the air, something simple and philosophical, and he would watch as you’d chip away at the question and his subsequent arguments to your own positions. In any other case, it’d have been annoying, but for the both of you, it was akin to mental exercises, a game the two of you shared to keep sharp. It made for a kind distraction over the sounds of silence that plagued empty battlefields still wet with blood.

These nights were also some of the only nights you’d be able to get Wilbur to take care of himself. Usually, it was after a glass of wine softened him up enough for you to convince him to finish his rations. He had a habit of leaving half, just in case someone else needed something, and he’d been hungrier before so he was sure he could brave it. These were the nights when he’d finally let his wounds show.

Every battle, regardless of how bad off he was, he would hide any wounds that he couldn’t personally classify as fatal. And he would continue hiding them until they faded, though they never fully did. He always cared so much about appearances, how he needed to look pristine and confident to keep morales high.

But he didn’t care about that with you. With you, he cared about wit and vulnerability, despite the two having always fallen on opposite doorsteps in his persona. So he’d take off his uniform, leaving him in a simple white undershirt and the slightly baggy black pants he wore underneath. It was the biggest form of physical vulnerability he’d allowed himself in years, and you never overstepped. You’d ignore the bruises and scars littering his arms and faintly poking out from the collar of his undershirt.

But veiled ignorance could only last so long, and your own care for the man overtook any sense of social conventions.

“Wilbur,” you looked at him abruptly. You’d been sharing a bottle of wine like you often ended up doing these nights that neither of you could sleep. With each sip, you feel your mind grow anxious at what you’d noticed. Right when he’d taken this uniform shirt off, you quickly noticed the slash in his bicep, crusted with blood and dirt. And while you planned to ignore it like usual, usually he’d at least have cleaned the wound before, and you couldn’t ignore how clearly unattended this wound was. “Did you visit the medic after today’s battle?”

Wilbur snorted into his glass of wine as he took another sip, “No. No, I did not.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he started simply, “they had far more pressing matters.”

You didn’t see the battles. You’d be on the sidelines, with prepared speeches for Wilbur to give in case of any major developments. You always had to be ready, but it came at the consequence of never knowing what truly happened on the battlefield. Wilbur never liked to recount it either, only sharing essential information to save you from hearing about the ways your people were injured.

But tonight, you wanted to know. His safety was something that concerned you, and if it was so bad that he would threaten his safety, you needed to know. “What was it like today?” You asked quietly, standing as you spoke.

He watched you as you flitted around the room, pacing the floorboards languidly. “I told you. We lost, but we were able to leave a-“

“No, I know what you told me. ‘The battle was lost, but there were effects put into motion that will be able to help us in the long run.’ I know that. I meant- the- the other stuff, those ‘more pressing matters’ that the nurses had. Stuff like that.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word ‘casualties’ so casually, as if it was not one of your neighbor’s lives your were pushing into a single word.

He frowned, “I don’t- I really don’t think-“

“Tell me, Wilbur. I need to know.”

Wilbur sighed slowly, nodding, “Everyone was injured. Some of us less so than others. It… it was Eret. Eret betrayed us, so they knew where we were, they knew we’d be unprepared. It’s better that it’s now, so early in the war, that the traitor is gone now, but… it was at a heavy expense. All of my friends, the ones I dragged into this, they- some of them are still there, in the infirmary. Tubbo nearly died. He-“ Wilbur took in a breath, shuddering, “They said he’ll be okay, but if he was hit any higher, they would’ve punctured his rib, and we would’ve lost him. And- I- We almost lost my brother. Tommy, he-“ there were tears in Wilbur’s eyes as he recounted it, “he took a knife straight to the shoulder. For me. He pushed me out of the way. And it was so close, if he’d been a second earlier, it would’ve gone through his heart.” Wilbur was crying now. It was the first time you’d seen him this vulnerable, this affected by what he’d seen. The horrors that plagued his vision every time he’d close his eyes, yet he closes his eyes now, as he speaks, as if he would find some epiphany lying behind them and not the images of his brother and his brother’s best friend clinging to life.

“I- I couldn’t visit the medic after that. For this?” He gestured to the slash on his arm, “It felt unworthy of their attention when so many had nearly lost it all.”

He was still crying, his eyes pressed tightly together as if doing so would click some button to erase the memories of what he’d seen on the battlefield. You moved forward, pressing his head into your stomach and wrapping your arms around him gently. He cried against you, soft and shuddering as if his body was still afraid to acknowledge or speak about what he’d seen.

“I- I watched someone die. Someone on our side, I-“ he sobbed softly, “I held him as his breathing faded. His last words, he-“ Wilbur buried his face further against you, “He told me ‘Wilbur, make it worth it. If this is it for me, do not let it be in vain. Free our country and win.’” Wilbur panted quietly as he let the final words of a fellow solider fade into the quiet of the night. “I just- I can’t let him down. I let a man die for my cause. His blood is on my hands. And Y/N… it doesn’t look good right now. I know I said Eret’s betrayal is good for the future since the traitor is gone, but I- I don’t know what he knows. He could guide them back here tomorrow and slaughter us all in our sleep. So I- I don’t know what to do. I can’t let our people down, they- they didn’t ask for this. I keep- I keep wondering if I just should’ve kept quiet. If we could’ve been happy just living under SMP’s rule.” His admission did not escape him easily, echos of gasping sobs filling the room as he clung onto the fabric of your shirt. Neither of you spoke at first, letting his tears slow to a near stop in order to help him preserve the fragility of his mind.

“Wilbur,” you spoke softly once you felt the moment was right, “No one was happy before. You cannot fault yourself for giving us a chance. I know you feel responsible for the bloodshed, and I know how it makes you feel like you’re clinging onto some shadow of death that follows you. But if you were the only one who wanted freedom for our country, there would be no rebellion. You’d just be another man standing on the end of a street, searching for someone to listen to you. We support this cause because we not only believe in the importance of our freedom, but because we believe in you, Wilbur. We cannot have our leader be made a martyr because where would that leave us? This cause would fall apart without you. And I know you are afraid, but we are all afraid. You are allowed to be afraid of uncertainty. Your people are putting their lives on the line’s because the believe the end, even their ends, will justify the means. You cannot consider falling back onto your fears now. I’m so sorry for what you saw. I know how horrifying it must’ve been. But that man let you hold him as he died, you brought him comfort in those final moments because you promised a better future for his family, his people. You have inspired people, Wilbur. You inspired me. You took a single thought, an idea, and you turned it into something real, something tangible, a cause that we not only believe in, but one that we fight for, and we will continue to fight for.” You let out a soft sigh, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, “Wilbur, I know you feel like the world is crumbling around you because of how scary everything is right now. But you are not alone. If your world is crumbling, it is crumbling for me too?” you sighed once more, “this is all just a long winded way for me to ask, Wilbur, please, will you let me patch your wound?”

He didn’t reply to any specific part of your response, just giving a curt nod and lowering his arms. You both knew that you didn’t just mean the wound on his arm, but that you were attempting to reach out and help him patch the rifts in his mind.

You grabbed the spare first aid kit, returning to your place in front of him as you set down the kit.

“It’s really not that bad,” he sighed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Wilbur, I have always trusted your judgement for everything, but I think we have finally found the exception,” you chuckled softly, gently taking his arm in your hands to inspect the wound. It definitely wasn’t a pretty sight, but it could certainly be worse.

“Really? This marks the exception? Not the hundreds of times I’ve asked you if something sounds right or if people would agree with something I’ve said?”

You nodded, taking a cotton ball and soaking it in alcohol, “Yep, this is it. Uncertainty is not having bad judgement, it’s just the acknowledgement that you can’t do things alone. Which is true, none of us can.” You smiled lightly, pressing the cotton to his arm to clean the wound.

He hissed softly in pain as you cleaned the wound, speaking only once you’d finished, “I can’t,” he spoke quietly. “I can’t do things alone. I’m very grateful to have you.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you reached for a salve to spread onto his wound. “I’m grateful as well. You keep me stable with all this craziness going on.”

He watched as you opened the salve, getting a generous amount onto your fingers to lightly spread over the slash, “I can say the same. I would’ve fallen into disarray by now without you.”

Your flush darkened, and you started to wrap his arm quietly. You didn’t speak until you’d finished wrapping his arm completely.

“There,” you spoke softly, tying off the bandage, “Now, you won’t get an infection and fall ill. Goodness knows we don’t have the medicine for preventable illness anyways,” you chuckled, trying to make light of things.

Wilbur smiled as well, but he seemed a bit further in thought. You grabbed the kit once more and went to return it to its place, but Wilbur’s hand wrapped lightly around your wrist and kept you from turning.

“Wilbur?” you asked softly.

“I-” he had a flush on his cheek, and there was a beat of waiting before he finally looked up at you. He had a look filled with adoration and appreciation. But there was something else in his gaze, something softer. More warm. Something you would come to know as love.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, his thumb lightly caressing where it rested on your wrist.

You had to refrain from gaping at him as you processed his question. You had always found the rebel attractive, but you’d never considered the legitimacy of pursuing a relationship with a man who seemed far out of your league. With bated breath you nodded, and he leaned up to pull you into him.

The kiss felt far more gentle than it should have. For all the desperation and wanting that lived within it, the kiss was soft and slow, familiarizing one another with each crack in our lips. It didn’t develop further, there was no rapid increasing of intensity, the kiss remained as gentle as the glow from the candles around the room until you pulled away slowly.

You both stared at one another for a long moment, attempting to memorize each freckle and blemish that adored war-torn faces. He was the one to speak up first.

“Y/N? Would you stay with me? Just for tonight?”

You nodded your agreement, and you both shared a mutual understanding in the lie he allowed spill from his lips.

As the war continued, you found yourself making a permanent residence in Wilbur’s bed and home. The war was taking longer than anyone expected, a double-edged sword in the how our troops still lived, yet so did Greater SMP’s. Morale was low for everyone, but you kept your spirits high in fire-warmed rooms in Wilbur’s arms.

“Do you think our people need something to boost their spirits?” He’d asked one day, your head resting on his chest and a hand loosely playing with your hair.

“Hm,” you thought, looking up at him, “I think it would be good, yeah. What are you thinking? A festival?”

He hummed, and as you inspected his face, you noticed the nerves lining his expression. It wasn’t an uncommon sight these days, his worries about the war leeching into every moment of the day. But usually, the anxiousness was far more faded by this time of night, even if it never fully left his gaze.

“Not a festival,” he spoke, shifting and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small black box, speaking softer, “I was thinking a wedding.”

You sat up, gasping softly, “Will-”

“I was going to wait until after the war,” he spoke, sitting up across from you. “But I’m terrified that I won’t get to. I’d rather die knowing you were mine than knowing I never got to at least ask you.”

“Wilbur,” you grabbed onto both of his cheeks, pulling him into a deep and loving kiss. You understood where his fears came from, and you would be lying if you didn’t admit that you shared in the same sentiment. Every day that the troops returned, your heart waited to beat in fear until you saw his face. You didn’t want to wait either.

You pulled away, wrapping arms tightly around his neck as you rested your forehead against his.

“Is that a yes, then?” He asked, a grin ghosting over his lips.

You laughed, holding onto him tighter, “Yes, Wilbur, absolutely.”

He laughed as well, his arms coming to wrap tightly around you. He kissed the side of your head as he spoke, “We- it probably won’t get to be a big wedding because we’re so low on resources, but if you want something big, we can absolutely have a second ceremony after, and-”

“Wilbur, our wedding could be in a mud field in our pajamas with a chicken, and I would still be satisfied. All that matters to me is being able to call you mine forever.”

He gave you a grin like you hung the stars in the sky before pulling you in for a loving kiss and putting a small ring onto your finger.

The wedding planning went over quickly. You weren’t planning anything fancy whatsoever, but it still needed to be enough of an event for your people to have time to relax. Everyone wanted to help out as well. Once you woke up the next morning after Wilbur’s proposal, it seemed as if the whole country knew already, with people coming to congratulate you and Wilbur as you both walked through town. Just the sense of community in everyone’s offering to help out with the wedding seemed to brighten everyone throughout the country.

You and Wilbur actually had two ceremonies. The first one was for the two of you and your families, a small dinner and ceremony to allow you to have an intimate and private wedding. It was gorgeous, and so incredibly worth it. The second one was the ceremony for the people. It wasn’t a lavish affair, though your wedding attire was some of the most beautiful things either of you had seen in months. It was a subdued wedding, but it was making the most out of what you had. Lots of fresh cut flowers from the countryside, Niki baked a cake, and a real, full meal made for everyone.

You felt tense in your fancy wedding outfit. Even if it wasn’t the height of luxury, it felt more stiff than anything else you’d worn in months. But there was a point to all of it. It was an event, something for people to care about. Something to get on their minds instead of residual fear about the next battle. You were glad for private affair you’d been able to have the night before, because this felt more like playing the role of the Leader’s Partner rather than actually being his partner.

“Hey,” you heard softly from behind you, turning as you watched Wilbur sneak in. He paused when he saw you, staring in awe. “You look so lovely,” he smiled, walking over to you and taking your hands in his.

“I could say the same about you,” you smiled, pulling him forward for a short kiss. “You ready to get betrothed a second time?”

He laughed, holding you a bit closer, “I am. I’d marry you every day if I could.”

You smiled shyly up at him, moving to wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, “I love you so much.”

He kissed the top of your head, smiling, “I love you too, darling.”

You sighed and relaxed into the hug, letting your eyes slip shut. You moved your hands down to his sides, frowning when you felt a small box in his pocket.

“Wilbur,” you started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small box of cigarettes, “What are you doing with these?”

He frowned, a shameful look on his face, “I haven’t smoked any, don’t worry. I’m just- I’m anxious, so I got them in case.”

You nodded, biting your lip with a frown, “If you’re anxious, you know you can come to me.”

“I know, I know, I just-” he sighed, “I’m anxious about you, is the thing.”

You frowned, setting the cigarettes down on the table behind you, “What do you mean?”

He sighed, sitting down on a small stool across from you, “I’m nervous that when word travels about the marriage, they’ll look down on the legitimacy of our country. I think it’s good, I think they’ll think we’re less concerned than we really are, however… I’m worried I’m placing a target on your back.”

You nodded softly, “Wilbur, I’ve had a target on my back since I chose to stand with our country,” you moved forward, giving him a gentle kiss, “I understand the concern, and I know the risks. But I’m not letting those risks outweigh the joy of being married to you. If they go for me, I can handle it. I know I’m not much of a fighter, but I can hold my own. Plus, they won’t kill me. If I’m valuable to you, they wouldn’t dare.”

He took your hand in his again, squeezing it gently, “thank you, darling,” he sighed, holding you close. “I won’t let them take you anyways. You’re too precious to me.”

You chuckled softly, lightly pressing your forehead against his. “Let’s go get married, then. The best fuck you we can give them is our love.”

He grinned and chuckled, nodding softly, “Let’s go get married.”

The wedding was a bright affair. The actual marriage part was quick and sweet, vows that you had both prepared together, nothing as genuine as the words spoken the night before. It was sweet regardless, promises of loving each other in the darkest of times that rang true in an audience of war-stricken dreamers. The best part of the wedding was the reception. Everyone was up, dancing and singing along to the music being shared, and the entire tarp over the field was covered in the most beautiful lights and flowers. You had a proper first dance with Wilbur before the dancing became more lively. You spent most of the night sitting with Wilbur and watching your people dance and laugh and drink.

“It’s gorgeous, don’t you think?” You smiled, looking over at him.

He nodded, “It is. I’m glad to see everyone smiling and happy.” “And drunk.”

He laughed, leaning his head on your shoulder, “Yeah, that too.”

You smiled, holding his hand quietly. You stared at the ring on your finger. It was simple, but it was absolutely gorgeous. A simple gold band with a small chiselled diamond in the centre. The diamond was crafted from a piece that had chipped off of Wilbur’s sword when he taught you the basics of parrying hits. The engagement ring lay below it, a thinner silver ring with a small emerald that you recognized as coming from one of Wilbur’s ventures to a further village. The rings weren’t lavish, but you preferred them more like this. They were far more meaningful like this. Symbols of your love both in their meaning and their crafting.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked him softly.

“Of course, darling.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “In our vows, we both mentioned honesty, so I want you to be honest with me right now. I know this isn’t the place to ask, but… what do you think our chances of winning are?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, “I don’t think it matters how big or small our chances are. I think what matters is that we have a chance. If we didn’t, we would’ve failed a long time ago.”

You nodded softly, “You see it, though? The future where we win?”

He looked over at you, a wide smile on his face, “I see it as clearly as I see you now. I see our fields free from the blood they currently harbor. Instead, they’re filled with flowers that grew up from the bloodshed. Crimson turned crimson. The kids run around, free of fear of an incoming bomb. My brother runs with them, and he no longer acts so grown up; he’s allowed to be a kid again. I see a memorial for those we lost, for all that was sacrificed. I see our citizens in parades, every year for our independence, they sing and dance, just like this. It’s like… the war is the night, the cold and harsh conditions that brutalize us and break us down into nothing more than human. But independence? It’s warm. It’s laying in the sun in a field with you. It’s our flag waving high on a summer day. It’s the laughter of children, it’s the joy of the future. It’s us. Our future. A memory garden adorned with flowers and the knowledge that we will never return to the Great War because we not only survived, but we persisted.”

“It’s daylight,” you smiled, and he gave you a grin so bright it felt like basking in it.

“It’s daylight.”

The weeks after the wedding remained lively for the most part. The morale boost helped the troops improve, and the battles didn’t seem as tough. There was an underlying fear that the SMP troops were holding back for some reason, but for the most part, everything seemed to be going good.

Until one morning.

Winter had begun, and with it, hardships improved. Illness was rampant, and while no one had fallen fatally ill yet, everyone was afraid.

Wilbur didn’t expect you to be next on the list of ill.

He was in the living room when you woke up that day. You stood slowly, but as you stood, you were hit with a wave of nausea and vertigo. You nearly collapsed before making it to the trash to throw up the contents of your empty stomach. You leaned over the trash and within moments, Wilbur was at your side, keeping your hair out of your face and rubbing your back.

“Darling? Are you alright?”

You coughed weakly, spitting into the trash, “Do I seem okay, Wilbur?” You huffed, before sighing. “Sorry, I just- I hate throwing up.”

He nodded softly, “It’s alright, I get it, here,” he carefully helped you up back into bed before rushing to grab some water. He handed you the glass, and you drank it quickly, sighing softly.

“Did something happen?” He asked, moving to your side to wrap an arm around you.

“No, I just stood up and- yeah,” you sighed, leaning your head against him, “You shouldn’t be close, I may be sick.”

He frowned, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll be alright. I’m going to call for the doctor, okay?”

You nodded softly, and he was rushing to get the doctor within seconds. They came back a few minutes later, and the doctor was quick to check over you.

“Your temperature is a bit high,” they hummed, “But other than that and the throwing up, I’m not seeing any other major symptoms. It could be stress. I would take it easy for the next few days, see if it improves. If nothing’s changed in a week, we can check for more, alright?”

You nodded softly, sighing quietly. Wilbur grabbed your hand gently before walking the doctor out, sharing hushed words.

When he returned, he got back into bed next to you, “They don’t think it’s anything serious. They said it’s likely just a mild fever, not like the flu going around out there.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, “I’ll be alright.”

“You will be,” he nodded, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t stay to watch you too much this week, but I can get Niki, if you want.”

“Wilbur, I don’t think I need to be watched,” you chuckled.

“I know you don’t need it,” he hummed, “but I want someone to be here with you. I don’t want you to collapse and have no one be here for you.”

You sighed softly, nodding, “Okay. If you don’t need her for anything this week, then I don’t mind. I like spending time with Niki.”

He smiled, squeezing your hand gently, “Alright. I’ll let her know.”

The same thing happened throughout the week. Wilbur would help you in the morning when the nausea hit, and then Niki would swap out with him when he had to go help out his people. The nausea usually lasted the whole day, but the vertigo and lightheadedness only seemed to last in the morning. You managed to eat small meals, and with Niki’s baking, she brought you a lot of small snacks.

It was one of these days that you had a theory. The final day of the week, there was a major battle, so Niki would spend the whole day with you while Wilbur went out to fight. It was nerve wracking knowing that he would be out there and you were stuck in your bedroom, but you figured it wasn’t that much different from the other days, you supposed.

“Niki,” you spoke up from your place on the bed. She was sat across from you, working on a small knitting project. The troops had just head out for the battle.

“Yeah, Y/N?” she asked, looking up at you.

“Did a doctor stay behind? Or did all of them head out?”

She thought for a moment, “There’s two here with us. One for the ill, and one preparing things for when the others return.”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment, “Could you call one of them here for a moment?”

She frowned, concern lacing her brow, “Yeah, of course, but, why? Are you not feeling well again?”

“It’s not that,” you bit your lip quietly, looking away for a moment, “Can you keep a secret, Niki?”

She nodded, “Of course.”

You fiddled with your fingers for a moment, trying to think of the best way to phrase your next statement, “I… skipped this month.”

She gave you a look of confusion, before her eyes widened as realization hit, “Oh. Oh! Do you think-?”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t want to get my hopes up yet. And I don’t want to get Wilbur’s hopes up either, just in case. But… I think so.”

She gave you a grin, nodding quickly as she stood, “I’ll go grab one of the doctors, I’ll be right back!”

She rushed out, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment. You were nervous about the implications. You wanted to start a family with Wilbur, of course, but neither of you were planning for it to happen yet. You’d agreed to wait until after the war. War is no place to raise a child.

The doctor came in, and she gave you a gentle smile. Niki waited outside as you spoke with the doctor, and you did a quick exam.

“Well,” the doctor gave you a soft smile, “I think your theory may be correct, Y/N.”

“You think?”

“Well, I know. You’re correct. You’re pregnant.”

She had a soft grin on her face as she confirmed your theory, as if it was not news that changed the entire trajectory of your future.

“Thank you, Doctor,” you gave her a soft smile right back, trying to let your worries ease into the back of your mind until Wilbur returned.

“Of course. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. For the next few months, just try to relax. I know it’ll be tough given our circumstances, but you have the support of the entire country holding you up, alright?”

You nodded silently.

“I’ll do another exam in a month to make sure everything is going well, and we can arrange for monthly visits. If you have any questions just let me know, and so other than that, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, and she left soon after.

Niki returned, a subdued smile on her face, “So?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

She grinned, rushing to your side and taking your hand in hers, “Oh, that’s lovely! Wilbur’s going to be so excited, are you going to tell him tonight?”

“I think so,” you smiled softly, “I imagine it’d be hard to keep it from him.”

It was hard to keep it from him. But not through your own admission, rather because news of the doctor visiting your home traveled quick among those who’d stayed behind. That night, Wilbur rushed in to see you.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He called out, rushing up to see you and hold you in a tight hug. He looked worse for wear, his hair a ruffled mess and his cheeks stained with dirt.

“Yes, love, I’m alright, why?” You hugged him back tightly, nerves and knowledge filling your chest.

“I- I heard a doctor came in today,” he pulled away to inspect your face, holding your cheeks gently, “Did something happen?”

“No, no,” you smiled softly, “I’m okay, I’m good, actually. We figured everything out, and I’m going to be okay.”

He let out a breath of relief, pressing his forehead to yours gently, “Darling, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled softly, “How was the fight?”

He tensed, and you frowned.

“It was… it wasn’t good,” he sighed, and your heart dropped, “We ambushed them like we planned, but they were stronger. We didn’t get to take out as many of them as we wanted to before they noticed us, so we were outnumbered.”

You nodded softly, “Were you successful in stealing supplies, though?”

He nodded, and the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Not as much as we wanted to, but enough to make it hurt.”

“That’s good,” you smiled back at him, “Are you injured? Did you see the medic?”

He shook his head, “a few scratches and a burn from a flaming arrow, but it’s not bad. It’s on my shoulder.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, “Go take a bath, and I’ll wrap it. And then, I have something important to talk to you about.”

He tilted his head, “What is it?”

“Nope, not yet. Go clean up first,” you chuckled softly, “That takes priority.”

He rolled his eyes, grin falling on his face easily, “Alright, alright. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and watched as he went to go clean up. You could have told him then, but it was more for your sake than his that you wanted to wait. You had to get your mind together first, especially now knowing he was okay.

He returned not long after, face and hands scrubbed clean of dirt and soot. He was wearing a white tank top with his sleep pants, and he had the med kit in his hand as he sat down next to you.

You hissed softly as you saw the burn, gently taking his arm in your hand, “Wilbur, this is worse than you described.”

He waved it off, sighing, “It just got irritated from the water. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

You gave him a look of disbelief as you stared at the burn. It was bright red and angry, skin slightly charred and bubbled. There was a slight cut in the middle of it from where the arrow must’ve passed through. You sighed sofly, grabbing the disinfectant.

“Hold onto my arm, this is going to sting,” you told him softly, and he did as you said. Once you passed the disinfectant over the burn, he hissed in pain, squeezing your shoulder. You continued cleaning the wound until it was satisfactory, You grabbed the burn cream and delicately spread it over the wound, and slowly, his pained noises lessened.

“I’m not going to wrap it just yet, it needs to breathe for a while, okay?”

He nodded, sighing and pulling his hand away, “Will I be able to cover it tomorrow?”

You frowned, “You shouldn’t. But I know you will, so I’ll wrap it tomorrow.”

He nodded again, grabbing the med kit and returning it to its space in your bathroom.

“So,” he said, sitting down in front of you, “You said you have something important to share?”

“Yeah, so,” you sighed softly, taking his hand gently, “It’s about the doctor visit. I had the doctor come over today because I wanted to talk to her about us starting a family.”

He nodded, eyebrows furrowing slightly, “Okay. I thought we were planning to wait, though?”

You nodded, “I know, but… would you… be upset if we didn’t?”

He chuckled, “Not at all, darling,” he smiled, “it wouldn’t be ideal, but that’s more due to my own selfishness. I want to be here for every second of it, and I don’t know if I can right now. But I wouldn’t be upset about it. Do you… want to?”

You bit your lip, taking his hand and placing it over your stomach. “Wilbur,” you looked up at him, “I don’t know if we have much of a choice anymore.”

He gave you a concerned look, frowning, “Why not? Did- did something happen? If you’re not able to, we could always look into adoption, or-”

“No, Will,” you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “It’s not like that. It’s, uh, it’s the opposite, actually.” You gave him a soft grin.

He looked confused for a moment longer before a wide grin crossed his face, “Wait. Do you- do you mean?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I had a theory with all the sickness in the morning. So, I talked to the doctor, and… I think our family will be coming a lot sooner than we’d planned for.”

He grinned, tears springing to his eyes, “You’re serious? You’re-”

“Pregnant. Yeah.” You were grinning as well, and finally getting to tell him felt like the first breath of air after diving into the deep end.

“Oh, darling,” he spoke, pulling you into a tight hug, “Oh, I- we’re going to have a kid.”

You nodded, chuckling through the tears of joy that hit your cheeks. “Yeah, we’re going to have a kid.”

He grinned, holding you tightly, “Fundy’s going to have a sibling! Darling, this is amazing. I know we wanted to wait, but I don’t care. I have so much more to fight for now. So much more to come home for.”

You kissed him, holding onto him like a lifeline, “The war’s not done. But this. This is why we fight. As long as you’re home at the end of the day, that’s all that matters to me.”

He grinned at you, “I love you so much. I am so lucky to have you. We’re so lucky, even if it’s just being alive right now. This is all we need.”

You smiled lovingly at him, “We are so fucking lucky. And I am so excited for this. They’re blessed to have you as their father.”

“They’re blessed to have you as well,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

That night, neither of you went to sleep concerned over a failed fight. Instead, you dreamt of the bright future you’d be bringing your child into.

Family and close friends were the first to know. You told them two days later, during an impromptu family meeting that Wilbur had called. Everyone was incredibly elated, though Tommy’s excitement probably took the cake, as he was practically screaming his congratulations.

The rest of country learned fairly soon after. About a month later, even though you’d only slightly began showing and could certain continue to hide it for a while, neither of you wanted to. It was a joy to share with the country, and the celebration that followed was bright and lively, a night-long glimpse into a wonderful future.

It wasn’t always easy, though. Wilbur hated how he couldn’t stay by your side, taking care of your every need. You hated how lonely some nights were, when the battles lasted longer than usual or they had to prepare for a midnight ambush. The worst part of those nights was the fear, overwhelming and keeping you stationary in Wilbur’s office or your bedroom. Not knowing if your husband would return hurt more than anything else in the world.

You were six months in when he came home exhausted in early morning light. He didn’t speak to you at first, giving you a kiss before going to wash up. You waited anxiously for him to return, and when he did, he returned shirtless with a med kit in hand. He sat down in front of you with a sigh, turning around so you could see the large gash running down his shoulder.

“Wilbur,” you gasped softly, “this is really long.”

“It’s not that deep. Didn’t even realize it was there until I went to wash up.” He sighed.

You frowned, starting to patch him up quickly.

He spoke to distract himself, “Do you think we’re going to have a girl or a boy?”

You shrugged softly, “I’m not sure. They could be nonbinary as well.”

“True,” he hummed, “if they do come out as nonbinary, we’ll let them choose their own name. But we do still need to choose a name.”

“That’s true,” you hummed, carefully disinfecting his wound, “We should prepare for both.”

“I agree,” he responded, though his words came out through a clenched jaw.

“So what are you thinking, then?”

“Hm, I’m not sure about for a boy. But I do have a name picked out for a girl.”

“Oh, yeah?” you smiled, starting to carefully apply the salve to the wound, “What is it?”

“Tallulah,” he smiled softly, “What do you think?”

“That’s gorgeous. I love it.” You set the rest of the salve down, picking up the bandages.

“I’ve always loved it. I’m really glad you like it as well.”

You directed him to hold his arm up so you could wrap his wound, “It’s beautiful. What about a boy?”

He hummed, “I’m not sure.”

“We could always do Wilbur Jr.”

He snorted, shaking his head, “God, no. I’d sooner name them after Tommy.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I mean, Thomas would be a good middle name.”

“It would, actually,” he smiled softly. “For a boy, though… Julius could be nice. Or maybe Cornelius.”

You hummed, “Those have a good ring to it. Julius Thomas Soot. Cornelius Thomas Soot.”

“They do. We can think more about it, I suppose. We have time.”

“We do have time,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder as you finished the bandage.

He turned, wrapping his arms around you and laying his head on your chest, pressing a kiss to the baby bump. You moved a hand to gently play with his hair.

“It was bad today?” You asked softly.

He sighed, “Bad would be an understatement.”

You nodded softly, kissing the top of his head.

“Do you think we’re bad people? For bringing a kid into this?” He asked softly.

You frowned, “No. I don’t.”

He nodded, holding you a bit tighter. After a moment, he spoke softly, “I’m really scared for them.”

You brushed through his hair with your hand, “Why?”

“I’m going to be honest, it… it doesn’t look good right now. They keep getting stronger and smarter, and I don’t know how to fight them. I’m scared we’re bringing our child into a failing country, and I’m scared I can’t protect you or them if worse comes to worse.”

“I understand. I’m scared too. But, love… we can’t really do anything now. We just have to try to give this child the best life we can, no matter the circumstances. Even if they’re the worst case scenario.”

He sighed, nodding, “I know. I just… I feel like I fucked up with Fundy. I was too young at the time, and I don’t want to make the same mistakes. And if I’m focused on fighting a war, I won’t be able to be there for them, the same way I wasn’t there for Fundy. I’m scared of being a bad father again.”

“I don’t think you will be,” you spoke softly, “and you’re not alone this time. You have me. They won’t be alone if you’re not there. I’ll be here.”

He nodded softly, looking up at you, “Thank you. I’m sorry, I’m just…” He trailed off.

“I get it. I’m scared too. I’ve never done this before. I have no clue what I’m doing. Not to mention I’m terrified of giving birth. But I’m scared of making mistakes because I didn’t know until I met you if I would ever have a kid. I’m glad I am, don’t get me wrong, but I never expected to be ready for something like this. Honestly, I still don’t know if I’m ready. I’m terrified, Wilbur. But I have you. I’m not alone.”

He smiled, leaning up to kiss you gently, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling,” you spoke softly, kissing him back gently, “Let’s get some rest, now, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded softly. With how exhausted he was, it didn’t take long before he fell asleep, leaving you alone with thoughts of uncertainty until sleep took over.

As you entered the last month of the pregnancy, things were starting to look up.

Kind of.

While the recent battles had been lost, Wilbur had a plan.

“Darling, I think I’ve figured it out,” he grinned, standing from his desk and walking to the couch you sat on.

“What is it?” You smiled, looking up at him.

“I’ve figured out how we win. Tubbo’s been spying for us, as you know, and he brought me this document yesterday, and I couldn’t see the significance! I was being an idiot, but I knew it didn’t make sense for them to have an entire document detailing how they make their uniforms.” He grinned, and you tilted your head.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a cypher. Darling, it was a code! And I- I figured it out. I know their plans.” He had a manic look in his eye, and you couldn’t help but perk up at the excitement in his tone.

“Love, have you slept?”

“Barely, I couldn’t sleep much because I kept thinking about this stupid fucking document. But darling, we know everything now. We know exactly where they’re going to be and when. We can win, we- we can do this.”

You grinned, but the anxiety still filled your chest at the idea, “You’re sure about this?”

“I- I mean, I think. I figured out the code, and it all makes sense.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to think of the most likely possibility. That they knew. That this was a fake document.

“Darling, I thought you’d be more excited,” he frowned, catching onto your anxiety.

“No, no, I am, just… Wilbur, what if they did it on purpose? What if they let him get a document planted just to feed you incorrect information?”

He nodded, thinking quietly. “I trust in it. And I think it may be a risk we have to take.”

You gaped at him, “Wilbur, you could be marching our troops directly into a trap.”

“I know, I know, but,” he sighed, “I have a good feeling about this, I promise. Honestly, I don’t think we have any other choice. Without this, we have nothing.”

You nodded softly, “... you trust it? That- that this isn’t a plant?”

“Yes.”

“And how certain are you?”

He bit his lip, “Mostly certain. It’s the best chance we’ll have, and we have to move fast, their plans start tomorrow.”

You nodded, pulling him in for a tight hug, “Okay. If-if you’re sure. I trust you.”

He hugged you back tightly, and you tried not to think about the fact that he hugged you like it may be the last time, “I love you so much, darling. Don’t worry, okay? This time tomorrow, we’ll be free people.”

You nodded, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of his arms around you, “I love you too.” You pulled him in for a loving kiss, sighing softly.

“Go rally your troops.”

Wilbur did just that. He left shortly and brought the plan to all the generals, all the soldiers, everyone he could. He was buzzing with excitement when he returned that night, holding you close as he lied with you in bed, one hand gently resting over your belly.

“We’re leaving before the sun is up,” he told you softly.

“Will you be back when I wake up?”

He shook his head, “No. But we’ll be back for dinner for sure.”

You smiled softly, holding him closer, “We’ll have a celebratory dinner. Extra special.”

“Oh?” He chuckled, “Extra special?”

“Absolutely. Because we won’t just be celebrating the win. We’ll be celebrating your new role as President.”

He flushed softly, “You think?”

You nodded, “I’ve heard the people speak. They trust you, Wilbur. And I know you’ll make a great president. You’ll create a great place for our child to grow up in.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your belly, then your cheek.

“Plus,” you hummed, “President Soot does have a good ring to it.”

He smirked, blushing once more, “Oh? You think so?”

“I know so, Mr. President,” you grinned as he leaned up, lips hovering above yours.

“That does sound nice. Though I may be biased,” he pecked your lips gently, a smirk still ghosting on his lips.

“How so?”

“Well, I think any words that escape your lips are just as gorgeous as the lips they escape from,” he spoke softly, pulling you into a languid and loving kiss. You kissed him back just as passionately, letting the intensity quell your fears about his return tomorrow.

Wilbur was gone when you woke up the next morning, which you expected. What you didn’t expect was for lunchtime to have been such a bleak affair. You expected much more liveliness from your people, especially given how much Wilbur believed in the plan. But the streets were quiet. There were only hushed words as you walked through town to find a meal, and it seemed as if many people were directing those hushed words towards you.

“Did something happen?” You asked the merchant after you finished your meal.

She gave you a frown, a tense look appearing on her brow, “You haven’t heard?” You felt your heart sinking as you shook your head.

She sighed, looking down for a moment before looking back up at you, “I’m sorry, uh…” she took a deep breath before speaking, “one of the generals was supposed to come back to check in at noon. They haven’t returned.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but you nodded quietly, “Well, that- that doesn’t mean anything specific yet. Have we heard anything at all from the battlefield?”

She shook her head solemnly, and you nodded once more.

“Alright, well, ah, thank- thank you,” you stuttered out, before rushing away to find the basecamp quarters. You started feeling a pain as you walked, but you didn’t allow yourself to focus on it as you ripped open the tarp to the camp, finding the entire place… empty. It felt like a ghosttown.

You swallowed down the bile that rose in your throat, rushing back home. The pain continued as you walked, and your legs shook stubbornly as you trekked home. You couldn’t tell if the pain was even real, or if it was a side effect of the desperation and doom that filled your heart. As you reached your home, you collapsed against the front door, holding onto the door frame as a groan of pain escaped you. Before you knew it, the ground was rushing up to meet you.

When you woke, you weren’t on the ground. You found yourself in an uncomfortable cot, pain wracking through your body as you failed to sit up.

“Hey, take it easy, it’s okay, you’re okay,” the doctor spoke, coming to help you sit up. You were sweating, and she carefully placed a cold wet cloth to the top of your forehead.

“What’s- what’s going on? Where’s Wilbur?” You stifled a groan as you spoke.

“He’s not back yet, none of the troops are. And you’re okay, you passed out when your water broke. You’re going into labor.”

“Fuck,” you hissed out, panting softly. You noticed now the dressing gown you wore, your original clothes laying folded in a pile in the corner.

“Take some deep breaths for me, you’re doing great, okay?” She instructed, and you nodded, taking a moment to just focus on your breathing.

“What- what time is it?” You asked in between breaths.

“It’s about to be seven.” She told you, turning as she sorted through medical supplies.

Wilbur should’ve been back by now. You didn’t know if you could do this without him.

“Your contractions are coming in about every five minutes, and they’re lasting about a minute. You’re not quite there yet, so you have time, alright?”

You bit your lip and nodded, placing a hand over your belly as you prayed to any god that would listen that your husband would be returning to you in one piece, in time for him to meet his child. You’d never felt so alone at such a worse time. You had no midwife, no friends, no husband, just your doctor to guide you through this.

It was another hour before it was time. You didn’t want it to be, you wanted Wilbur.

“You’re dilated,” the doctor informed you, grim as you shared a thought on the lack of troops returning, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to start pushing.”

You shook your head, “No, I- I need to wait, please.”

“I’m sorry, I know.” She took your hand in hers, “We still have time, but you need to start.”

As much as you wanted to argue, you knew you couldn’t.

The sound of you yelling in pain during the next contraction was masked with another sound.

Yelling, first.

Then, the singing.

And finally, cheering.

It was only a minute later when heard the sound grow, of your people, cheering and singing in the streets outside. It was two minutes later when a medic rushed in, a smile on their face.

“They’re back!” They announced, before rushing to tell whoever they could.

You fought through another contraction as your heart lifted, panic filling you.

“Wilbur,” you spoke weakly, “Wilbur, please, please, find- find Wilbur.”

The doctor looked at you in concern, biting her lip for a moment.

“Okay. Okay, yes, hold on, let me- I’ll go try to find him, just hold on.”

You nodded rapidly as the doctor rushed out, going to find Wilbur. You gripped the sides of the cot as you groaned in pain, trying desperately to focus on your breathing.

When she returned, she was alone, “I-I couldn’t find him, but they’re saying he’s alive, don’t worry, okay?”

You let out a breath of relief, head falling back for a moment as you relaxed just as much as you could. She guided you through a few more contractions before you heard the most beautiful sound.

“Darling?!” You heard Wilbur yell, and you heard his voice get closer with each word, “Excuse me, please, hold on, Y/N!” He ripped open the door, gasping in relief once he saw you.

“Darling, oh my god,” he rushed in, coming in quickly to hold your hand tightly and place his other hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch as he turned to the doctor, “How far along are they?”

“Breached,” the doctor informed, “Should be any minute now.”

He nodded, and you looked at him, “Will, I was so- fuck- I was so worried.”

He cooed, brushing your hair back, “It’s okay, I’m alright, I’m here now. Darling,” he grinned, eyes filled with tears as you squeezed his hand and groaned in pain.

“Darling,” he spoke again once the moment had passed, “We- we did it. We won. We’re free.”

You gasped, pulling him into you, “Oh, my god,” you couldn’t fight the tears that fell from your cheeks, “We won?”

He nodded quickly, kissing the top of your head, “We won.”

You let out a sob of relief and joy, but it was quickly masked by another yell of pain.

“You’ve got this, darling, I’m here, we’re free, you can do this,” he told you, holding you close.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor spoke softly. Wilbur was with you on the cot now, and you both were exhausted for different reasons, but both with joyous outcomes. She brought your daughter over to you, the newborn swaddled carefully.

You gasped quietly when you saw her, taking her gently in your arms as you leaned against Wilbur. You looked up at him, tears in both of your eyes. He kissed you gently before looking back down at your daughter.

“Tallulah Soot,” he spoke softly, “Welcome to the free nation of L’Manburg.”

You chuckled, though it was slightly muffled from your tears. “The first citizen to be born under a free rule,” you spoke softly, a finger gently stroking her cheek, “Because we won.”

“We won,” Wilbur parroted, disbelief clouding his voice.

She woke both of you up early with her cries. You held her in your arms as the early morning light poured in slowly, and as you rocked her, Wilbur sat next to you, an arm around your shoulder.

Her cries softened, and as her big eyes stared up at you, you decided to tell her a story.

“Now, Ms. Lulah,” you spoke softly, “You won’t know this for a few years. But you were born during a very special time. Your father was amazing, he commanded a whole army of people.”

Wilbur chuckled softly, kissing your head, “You were born to two amazing people. One a commander, and one his political advisor who won his heart with their wit and brevity behind closed doors.”

You chuckled, smiling warmly, “Yes, even though he was a disorganized wreck when I met him. Every year, Ms. Lulah, there will be a parade on your birthday. Do you know why?”

Wilbur smiled fondly, “I don’t think she does.”

“Well, then I’ll tell her,” you hummed softly. You looked up, staring out in an empty field, filled with beautiful red flowers as the morning light softly reflected on dew drops that slept on grass. “Because, you, Ms. Lulah, were born on the day your father and our people fought to ensure your freedom. More importantly, you were born on the day they won.”

She let out a soft giggle – the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard – and you grinned lovingly, staring out at that field once more, that never again, would harbor the same bloodshed. As the sun poured in, you could see in your mind, her running in that field, picking those red flowers, and never once knowing of the same hardships that allowed crimson blood to pour on your land.

All she would know is the daylight.

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sechsviciado · 29 days

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when doves cry

reaperken/touka ; written circa nov/dec 2022

no warnings or ratings really?

so after my slight reaperken/touka rambling yesterday i figured that i really have nothing to lose from posting this small snippet of a fic (oneshot??) thats been sitting in my google drafts for nearly the past two years; if this is crappy i can always just delete it but ive wanted to contribute a bit more to keep tokyo ghoul tumblr alive so i figure why not?

i felt so smart when i came up with the title since ken was a dove during that entire reaper arc until the events of cochlea. i didnt really pay attention to prince's lyrics in the song but looking back at it now i guess some apply? not really any inspiration was gained from it though, i just grew up with music from the 60s-90s so the title kind of came to my mind and it happened to be a prince reference. not really any ratings or warnings yet?? its nowhere near finished and im not sure if ill even finish it because i feel my writing heavily lacks.

anyway, without further ado

how many months had it been?

it had been months — years — since he recalled feeling this exact way. of course, haise had felt this way too, but it would never compare to the feelings he had for her before that brief period of time where he had lost recognition of everything and everyone who once meant something to him. ironically, it's when he felt most at peace with the butterflies in his stomach, beating against his rib cage and the cage surrounding the longing which could never be released. he’s regained his memories now, but he knew something was different within him even when he laid his glassy eyes on her again on that first visit to :re as sasaki haise. why did he feel so entrapped and yet so wrongly distant even when he had no recollection of her prior on that first visit to the cafe?

it would never be the same.

it would never compare to the feeling of falling in love with her and the realization that came with it. the realization that left him in a state of both a mix of surprise and agitation for days and with a feeling that could only be described as his heart skipping a beat and yet crumbling at the same time. it would never happen, would it? he had chosen to face that reality when he was still his old self, naive and too ashamed of his actions to actually face her after all the pain he caused her as a result of the pain which engulfed his entire life, too. too ashamed to accept his new reality, hiding behind his eyepatch — too ashamed to admit he had fallen in love so easily. he wasn't any different now.

haise may have fallen in love with her through the lens of a reborn figure with a fresh start and no boundaries to stand behind (apart from his obvious shyness and the weird sense of familiarity), but it just occurred by fate. the same fate that had snatched him from her years prior had found a way to bring him back into her arms and make him belong to her once again. he can't help but believe that maybe there was some future destined between them; the embittered part of his heart and soul makes him realize even that destiny would probably be cursed or filled with further strife.

though he supposed that didn't matter now.

not when he was even more distant from her than when he was an amnesiac with no recollection of her apart from the same old feeling of confusing comfort and longing. it's humorous and yet painful to think about how low he'd fallen in this aspect, not even being able to face her once again. despite his older age, he was still just a boy when it came to this same ancient rush, wasn't he? it doesn't matter. she surely didn't want anything to do with him anyways, especially not after everything that he's done. he's betrayed her and everyone who was once a part of him once again, and he’s chosen to accept that painful reality ever since he vowed to stop dreaming and flung tsukiyama off that building. facades all break down eventually.

though he supposed that didn't matter now, either.

he’d be disposed of soon enough before any of this could matter at all — before hinami was to be the one to disappear from the purgatory that was life as a ghoul. there was no heaven and there was no hell; there was no afterlife. heaven was bliss and safety on earth while hell was anguish and pain.

it was selfish of him to hope touka would feel any sort of pain after all of the grief and rage he's put her through time and time again, but he hoped he'd at least be remembered by the person he felt he loved most in this lifetime — the one who hadn't thrown him aside but who had instead built a nest for him as if though her life depended on it. he can't help but wonder… he’s had everyone he's ever known and cared for snatched from his hands by the same twisted fate that led him to await his upcoming death, he doesn't know if the puddle of both coldness and warmth in his stomach is either fear or love.

he'd truly cherish any memory he had of her before he’d be killed.

he vaguely remembers telling her, years ago, that he'd be sad if she died; he just hopes she would be saddened at his death, too.

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul re #kaneki ken #ken kaneki #touka kirishima #kirishima touka #touken #kanetou #black reaper kaneki #hinami fueguchi #Hi

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kpop-with-mars · 11 months

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|Ateez X Trans (Ftm) Reader|

{disclaimer; I dont own any gifs used, this is also inspired by @kittensyoonie and their ateez x trans reader so please check them out as well~.}

{Summary: Ateezs reactions to learning that your trans/you coming out to them.}

{Tags; fluff, angst, hurt comfort, just having a silly old time (mostly),}

{⚠Warnings⚠; I haven't had top surgery or any other forms of gender affirming medical care so some things might be wrong. this also might not relate to every trans person so im sorry T^T. Also look out for misgendering, dead naming, transphobia,}

{ Hi guyss I haven't been writing alot cuz I have so many drafts and i've been working on NONE of them T^T, but don't worry I will post them soon once finished. i've got some goodies in the vault so please look forward to them. alot of these scenarios might be pretty dramatic so sorry ✌ but without farther ado you can read now. Enjoy! maybe? idk its up to you - 🃏}

Hongjoong

You were with him on vlive for your 1 year anniversary of being together so you both read atinys questions and blocked disrespectful ones.

hongjoong attached himself on your arm while you read. "Do you look at other idols?!" you read in shock, hongjoong looked directly at you menacingly. you looked away from him "no~" you answered tucking hair behind your ear.

"You better not" he kissed your cheek making you giggle while hongjoong looked at the other questions until he found one.

"Is y/n transgender?".

hongjoong stared curiously at you "yes, im transgender" as soon as you said that, the viewers and comments spiked upward.

"Im so proud of you for coming out, ill always support you" he gave you a gentle peck on your lips before he turned to the camera.

"Atiny, lets all show our support for y/n okay?. if I see anything that doesn't i won't stand for that, this is a space for everyone so lets make it feel like it" he smiled at the camera when he finished.

You both read more questions and felt thankful for the support from atinys, eventually the camera was turned off and when it did, you and him were getting ready for bed when he pulled you into his chest "I can't believe you came out like that, you didn't feel pressured into it right? " he gently stroked your hair.

"I never thought i could do that, but ever since i met you i've felt more like me" he hummed in response before he put his hand on your cheek lifting up your face "I love you~" he cooed "I love you too" he chuckled at your shyness and he hugged your head to his chest.

Seonghwa

You were at home recovering from your top surgery, you felt like tired didn't wanna move from your bed while you hugged your pillow to your chest, until you finally decided to get up and eat.

But as you walked into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast you heard the front door unlock. you looked at the door wondering if this is the day you die until it opened to seonghwas smiling face.

"Hi honey" he walked up to you and kissed your forehead before he looked you up and down "Did you just wake up?" "No i woke up an hour and a half ago, i just got out of bed tho" he brought his hands up to your face and turned it from side to side "Did you eat yet?" you shook your head "good thing I got you some food" he handed you the food, which you ate in minutes after seonghwa guided the two of you to the table.

"Are you alright y/n?, you seem tired did you get enough sleep?" he bombarded you with questions while rubbing your back. "I feel fine, maybe just about sluggish" "I know im busy alot, but i just wanna know if something happened while I was away, please?" he moved his hand from your back to your free hand.

You decided to tell him "im sorry I didn't tell you sooner but, I got top surgery" seonghwa looked into your eyes waiting for you to explain "because im transgender" you added.

"That's cool, im glad you're okay" he smiled brightly you responed by giving his lips a gentle peck "I love you" you said making eye contact with him "I love you too, my handsome man".

Yunho

You and yunho were looking at pictures from his childhood while he told the stories behind them, alot of them making you laugh.

He was flipping though more photos when he paused "what?, what is it?" you asked him and he turned his head to you. "I don't think i've seen your baby photos before, have i?" he tilted his head to the side with curiosity in his eyes.

You didn't know what to tell him other then lying "Well i- um" you stammered "You're not embarrassed about them, right?." yunho asked when he noticed how anxious you were getting.

"Yeah, a little bit" you took a deep breath, you pulled out you're phone and showed him a picture of you as a kid. he looked at for a moment then smiled "I don't see any problem with it" yunho said with confusion.

You scrolled through your phone until you found one from prom, and you showed it to yunho. He took in the photo he was seeing before he responed "Oh, oh, you looked..." he had an awkward smile on his face "What" you asked knowing exactly what he was gonna say, until he said something you haven't heard.

"You just don't look happy in that picture, and i don't like it" he put his hand on your back. "I like who you are now because I know that you're happier this way" yunho wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into one of his special hugs.

You would cry but yunho made you too happy to, that's what you loved most about him, and that's what he loves most about you.

Yeosang

You and yeosang started working out together, nothing more sexy then seeing a muscle-y yeosang with an extra shine on his skin.

After more grueling exercise the two of you were taking a break and eating lunch together. "t-that was...alot to say the lest" he wiped sweat from his forehead with a rag and drank his shake.

"Yeah, I think im all worked out for the day" you smiled at him, mean while your sleeveless shirt puffed out and yeosang couldn't help but look "woah-" he admired your toned arms and chest, making you straighten yourself up and cross your arms over your chest.

"It's no secret your totally hot, even with scars" he laughed "Wait what scars??" yeosang made a confused face "the ones on your chest?"

"What- I don't-" "but you do?" he was getting concerned about the way you were suddenly so defensive. "Are you getting self conscious about yourself?-" "no it's just-" you felt you'd just ruined this nice day working out with yeosang by making him upset.

Yeosang came up to you and held your hand "What's wrong honey?" he asked in a sweet but worried tone making your heart sting a bit. but that made you realize this was stupid to keep from him.

"Those scars on my chest..." he looked intently at you "they're from top surgery... im transgender" yeosang pulled you into a hug while he stroked your muscles "that's nice. Im glad you're happy with who you are" he looked at you and gave your lips a quick kiss "and with me~"

You and him laughed about it and continued on with lunch "oh y/n!, can I see your abs again?...please?" his confidence faded to embarrassment when he asked, this caught you off guard but this was at KQ's gym after all, might as well give him some fan service.

"Sure" you lifted up your tank top for him, making him choke on his food for a second. you asking if he's okay until he answered "im fine...but not as fine as you~" you laughed at yeosang's cheesy pick up line and enjoyed the rest of the day with your boyfriend.

San

San was having the best day of his life when you came out wearing some of his clothes, the way his clothes looked so baggy on you made him feel like he had to protect you at any cost.

"Cute~" was the only thing he could say in awe as he stared at you, you gave him a little spin "All of your stuff is so comfy~ it was hard to choose which to wear" you went up to him and threw your arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

He pet your hair lightly "ill let you wear anything of mine if it makes you happy" he stroked your cheek and kissed your forehead. "Are you ready now?" you nodded your head and san began to walk you through the bouncy choreography.

The two of you were having a fun time and laughed whenever you made a mistake, or when he did. he was showing you how to go down for the chorus. "Then we do that for one, two, three, four. got it?" he demonstrated for you while he spoke "yeah I think so" san nodded then played it for you.

You started going down with the beats while san counted. but even though the shirt you were wearing provided some good ventilation, it was going down your chest more and more with each move.

"Oh-" san laughed out and paused the music. you laughed too with him and the shirt was falling off, revealing most of your chest. san noticed this and smirked when he walked toward you then noticed your scars. "What are those?" he pointed to your chest and you looked down.

"Oh" you pulled up your shirt "those are top surgery scars" san nodded then he suddenly got a look of surprise on his face "you're transgender!?" you put a thumbs up and smiled "Ooo that's cool, like pungja right? but just the other way around?" You nodded.

San picked you up in his arms and lifted you "no wonder you have such a feminine body" he teased you and ruffled your hair "That's why I kinda like wearing your clothes, they're good at hiding it when I want to" you giggled he squeezed you tightly.

"Well like I said, ill let you wear anything of mine if it makes you happy~" he kissed your cheek and put you down. "Alright now since you wanna know how, let me show you right now~".

Mingi

Mingi had took you with him and the members while touring around, he really needed cuddles after performing his heart out and you were his stress reliever.

He walked into the hotel room and you were on your phone and he went straight to the shower after greeting you, having been covered in sweat while you waited quietly for him on the bed.

He came out of the bathroom with his pajamas on and his hair wet. you opened your arms out to him "come here princess~" you understood how tired he was and he flopped down on your side, his head on your shoulder as his hands moved around your body.

He was obviously much taller then you but he felt so small hugging your body. "I love you~" you told him and kissed his forehead while your hand held the back of his head. "I love-" mingi froze when his hand reached a small long bump on your chest, his sleepy eyes widened a bit.

You chuckled lightly at his reaction and you held his cheeks "those are just scars. im transgender, I used to be a woman so I got surgery to get a flat chest" you explained and he nodded "That's cool~ are you happy?" he asked in a deep sleepy voice. "Of course I am. im even more happy with myself after I met you~" you kissed him lightly on the lips.

He gave you his gummy smile and he cuddled you closer to your body, laying his head against your collarbone. you turned your body to him and wrapped your arms around his head and back.

"I love you" his voice was muffled against your chest. "I love you too princess~" he smiled and you turned the lamp off and the two of you fell asleep. your princess finally getting the sleep he needed while knowing you're happy.

Wooyoung

"Come on babe!, let's go to the beach-each what they gonna say~" you heard him sing from down the hall while you were getting ready. you and wooyoung decided to go on a beach date when he had a break from promoting, and now that day was here.

You hurriedly searched for a swim shirt of any kind but to your dismay you couldn't find one. "im coming!" you threw on a shirt and run out the door with wooyoung.

At the beach you and wooyoung ate lunch that the two of you prepared together, after wooyoung finished he threw his shirt off and on your towels and booked it to the water, "Come on y/n!, let's cool off!" He yelled for you when he was in the water.

You grimaced nervously and walked over to the shore, you sat down and brought your legs to your chest. you felt the water lightly brush your feet. wooyoung raised his eyebrow at you "is something wrong babe?" he was confused by your actions.

"N-No.." you denied, but you knew wooyoung would keep pressing you til you dropped dead so you stood up and took your shirt off. you stepped into the water near wooyoung.

"See~, its not so-" he noticed your scars. "Babe?!, did something attack you in the water??. Is that why you were nervous?" he quickly stepped up to you and took your hands.

You chuckled lightly "No... im just transgender" you smile feeling your unease drip away. "Oh, well of course that's alright dummy" he hit your shoulder lightly. "I love you~" he said in a cheesy tone. "I love you too~"

He pecked your lips "I've never actually been to the beach without a shirt on sense surgery, i just get kinda nervous you know?" you admitted while the two of you were in calif deep in the water.

He smiled sweetly "I understand but lets not worry~. I promised to give you some of my confidence when we started dating..." he took a short pause to look in your eyes before he gave you a big smile "so come on lets go have fun!" He dragged you further into the water while the two of you laughed.

Jongho

A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts while in a cracked voice you said "Come in". the door opened to jongho's handsome face making you straighten up and try to make it look like you weren't crying.

"I was told you weren't feeling alright" he explained himself and sat next to you giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he looked at you with pleading eyes.

He held your hand in his squeezing it gently until you gave in and started tearing up again, "If -i was different back when I was younger, would you still love me?" he stayed silent allowing you to continue. "I know I shouldn't care what people think, but i don't feel like ill be- anything to anyone, really. I hate how people looked at me---and still look at me---especially because I knew what they were thinking"

you took in some more fresh air and wiped some tears before jongho spoke "Why would people ever judge you?". you responded "because I didn't want to be what they wanted" he thought on that for a moment before he asked another "What did they want you to be?" his voice held nothing gentleness and compassion, instantly you felt safer.

"A girl they could control" you put your face on his shoulder and lightly sobbed, jongho wrapped his arms around you and helped control your breathing. he held you in his warm chest for awhile, until you pulled away.

"You don't have to deal with this alone, okay?... I'm sorry you didn't feel safe telling me before but," he paused for a minute and held out his pinky "Let's get through this together now, promise" you let out a light chuckle and interlocked pinkies with him.

His arms snaked around you while you held him tightly hoping to never release, jongho turned your head to him and he gave you a kiss you'd been dieing to get. his lips fit onto yours like a puzzle piece, and like a puzzle you were complete.

{Hi guyss~, I sadly couldn't finish my hongjoong x trans reader one shot I was writing for his birthday so ill be working on it and ill post it when its done or just work on some other fics, speaking of them ill probably do some sort of poll or vote for these other fics I really wanna write so that I know what y'all will wanna see next~~. I got inspired by @kittensyoonie I read their ateez x trans reader thing and I was inspired by them to write this. So thank you to them and also read theirs!. - 🃏}

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