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loversj0y · 9 months

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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.

#mar writes #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #lovejoy #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #lmanbur #lmanbur x reader #lmanburg #our young nation #oyn au

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cloudyyoimiya · 8 months

Note

If your requests are open, can you please do Jouno with a lover whose love language is physical touch? Ignore this if you don't want to do this :]

this is so cute! i loved thinking about how he’d react and actually writing it out. thank you for requesting!!

Physical Touch; Saigiku Jouno

Format: Headcanons and scenario

Genre: Fluff

Possible warnings: Slightly out of character Jouno

Jouno wouldn’t mind a lover that enjoyed touching him because it was their love language, but he would most definitely tease them about it if they were more clingy than usual. It was in his nature after all.

In fact, Jouno would like it if you liked to touch him. It showed you that he trusted you since his skin was more sensitive compared to others.

Whenever you wanted to touch Jouno, you would always have to make sure that your clothes rustled just loud enough so that he could hear your hand incoming. You didn’t want to accidentally scare him, and sometimes you didn’t feel like speaking, so this was the best solution for the two of you.

…

It was late at night, and Jouno had just gotten home from his exhausting job at the Hunting Dogs. He lazily kicked off his boots into the direction of the shoe rack, and he practically threw off his hat in a pit of annoyance. He then put his hat down on a shelf nearby begrudgingly, just like he did each time he did when he came home.

All while he was doing this, he didn’t hear the usual blaring of the television. Instead, he heard your steady breathing and the occasional rustling of paper as you flipped a page of a book you were reading.

As Jouno entered your shared bedroom, he took off his cape with ease. He then dropped it down somewhere at random, not caring if either of you slipped on it later in the night.

“Tough day?” You asked as you kept your eyes on the page you were reading, not bothering to look up at him.

“Insufferable day,” Jouno murmured as he sat down on the bed next to you. He then unbuttoned the top buttons of his uniform. “Everything was so infuriating today. I don’t think I even got a moment of peace the whole day.”

You chuckled as you flipped to the next page of your book. You then slid your hand over the top of his, lightly squeezing it. “Do you want to tell me about it? It may make you feel less… tense.”

“One word; criminal,” Jouno huffed. “This one criminal thought that he could easily escape detainment. Of course I caught him, but he still made me use my ability to catch up to him. Honestly, the criminals I’ve been catching are getting stupider and stupider with their escape attempts these days. It annoys me greatly. How come they can’t just form a well thought out plan? Is it that much of an inconvenience for them? Idiots…”

You gave Jouno’s hand another light squeeze, then you leaned to rest your head onto his shoulder. “That does sound annoying… What about that one coworker of yours? Tecchou, was it? Did something happen with him as well? Because from what I’ve heard from you, not a day goes by where he doesn’t annoy you.”

Jouno slightly tensed up as you rested your head onto his shoulder, but he almost immediately relaxed his muscles. Although he did hear your clothes rustling as you moved near him, it still surprised him how affectionate you are sometimes. Though, he’d never complain about it. It was… refreshing to him since his occupation was so violent.

“Don’t get me started on that scatterbrain. You know how much me pisses me off on a regular basis,” Jouno groaned.

“I know. I guess it was a rather stupid question, huh?” You let out a soft chuckle.

Jouno hummed in agreement. He then wrapped an arm around your shoulders and rested his head against your chest. He positioned himself so that his ear was right above your heart so he could hear it beat.

All the while your boyfriend was doing this, you placed a bookmark in your book and put it on your nightstand. You then wrapped an arm around his upper back and you put the other on his lower back.

“You’re never this cuddly. Was today really that bad?” You questioned.

“No, I just wanted to be closer to you.”

“Huh? Why? What’s gotten into you…?”

Jouno groaned. “I know how you like being close to me. I thought I’d indulge you just this once.”

You slowly started to rub his back with your right hand. You then lightly kissed the top of his head. If he was really going to allow you to be touchy with him without him teasing you, then you were going to take full advantage of that moment.

“That’s very unlike you, y’know. But hey, I won’t complain,” you chuckled.

Jouno brought a hand down to the side of your stomach and pinched it lightly. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay,” you snickered. You then laid back and got comfortable. “Are you really going to sleep in your uniform?”

“I am. And what of it?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if you felt the need to point it out,” Jouno huffed.

“You smell like sweat.”

“Do I really?”

“Kind of. I’m honestly kinda surprised that you haven’t picked up on it with your heightened sense of smell and all,” you said with a small smile on your face. “Go take a shower. We can cuddle once you’re all clean and in your pajamas.”

Jouno groaned, then went up to kiss your cheek. “Fine then.” He got up from your embrace and stretched for a moment. Jouno then tilted his head back in your direction. “Don’t move while I’m showering.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, love,” you snickered.

“Sure,” Jouno simply said. He then started to go towards the direction towards the bathroom.

“I love you,” you called out to him.

Jouno playfully groaned. “I love you too.”

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd jouno #jouno bsd #jouno x you #bungou stray dogs jouno #jouno saigiku #saigiku jouno #saigiku jouno x reader #saigiku jōno #jōno saigiku #jouno x reader #jouno fluff

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yawnzbf · 3 months

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⚝ Are you two a couple?

// beomgyu x gender neutral reader,,

wherein yn and beomgyu when on a walk are interviewed by a nyc couples page,

,,Formatting this was a bit of a task but i hope you all like it!!

It was just another day in the bustling city, and yn and Beomgyu found solace in the routine of their shared walks. The cold air nipped at their noses, but the warmth of their clasped hands kept the winter chill at bay. As they strolled through the usually crowded streets, the city seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them in their own little world.

Meetnyc²ouples: excuse me!..hello? [admin asks noticing a pair’s linked hands] are you two a couple?

Beomgyu: yeah? What [he asks skeptical, his hand never leaving yn’s]

Meetnyc²ouples: are you two a couple?

Beomgyu: yeah why? [he says getting a bit defensive]

Meetnyc²ouples: oh, would you mind telling the quick story of how you two met?

Beomgyu: oh wow! Of course! [he chimed suddenly all sunshine and rainbows then looked back at his partner silently seeking their approval]

Beomgyu: you go for it!

Yn: uh,, we met on a blind date actually, my friend and his friend decided to pit us together and it started from there, The first date was a disaster by the way, he planned to meet at a cheesecake factory?! I mean who does that- like what if I was lactose intolerant? [they comment jokingly]

Beomgyu: hey! I thought it was a very cute little date [Beomgyu pouts trying to pull his hand away]

Meetnyc²ouples: if your first date went a little off track, how’d you two end up together?

Beomgyu: oh yeah, we didn’t talk to each ither for a month after and by that time, our friends gave up on us but ,, it was my final year maybe? [he asks unsure, seeking help from his over]

Yn: yeah, he was in his final year and I was in junior maybe,, he needed a photographer for his thesis project and bugged me for two (2) weeks straight until I gave in, then using his thesis as an excuse, we started to hang out very often.

Beomgyu: also, we didn’t start dating until like what? I graduated? Yeah, and then I was the one who ultimately asked the big question. [he said accusing yn]

Yn: I was going to ask him but he beat me to it, I’ll make sure I’ll be the one to propose first (propose as in engagement in case it is difficult to understand!!) [yn muttered as Beomgyu got shy, crimson enveloping his cheeks and ears]

Yn: awh,, is my baby all shy? [yn coo-ed at their boyfriend who immediately hid away in yn’s embrace]

Meetnyc2ouples: how long have you two been dating?

Yn: eleven and..? [yn trailed off not sure, seeking help from beomgyu]

Beomgyu: and a half [he completes,, way more composed than before]

Yn: right! Eleven and a half, going strong!

Meetnyc²ouples: can I ask what is your favorite thing about each other?

Beomgyu: this is gonna sound real cliché but I think they just get me way better than anyone else I’ve ever met. I mean they truly feel like my soulmate, my best friend, life partner I mean- yeah,, I don’t know how I lived all these years without them honestly [beomgyu’s gaze is overflowing with love as he answers never looking away from yn, while yn looks away from him ears burning]

Yn: my favorite thing about Beomgyu would be his silly little text messages that I used to- and still receive, I think that laid the foundation for our relationship,, although I cant leave out the cheesy pickup lines he still uses.

Meetnyc²ouples: adorable,, what’s your favorite thing to do together?

Yn: probably exactly what you just saw us doing, since we both work and have tight schedules, we try to find time for each other and that, more often than not results in just us walking around the city, exploring new spots, new people,, uh, yeah, I just love the quality time.

Meetnyc²ouples: oh, and before we leave, what are your names?

Beomgyu: they're yn and im Beomgyu

,,I settled on c² because writing meetnyccouples would look kinda odd,, so using my big brain i squared it!! Hence the name meetnyc²ouples— thank you for coming to my Ted talk!

#yawnzbf #tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x male reader #beomgyu x gn reader #txt x gender neutral reader #txt x male reader #txt x gn reader #gn reader #kpop x male reader #male reader #kpop x reader #interview #txt interview #nyc #nyc couples #university

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victorianpining · 10 months

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The Game is Now

(Well The Game is over a year ago, if you want to be technical about it)

I finally took the time to write up my notes and reactions to the original BBC Sherlock Escape Room Experience! Sorry in advance if things are a little vague at points, we only played through the room once and am mostly running off of iphone notes I wrote 13 months ago. I hope to be able to go back to try out the new Mind of Moriarty room during its run, if this one was anything to go by, it should be a fun time!

My usual disclaimer that while this is a TJLC slanted writeup, I'm just playing The Game for fun at this point, I really am not expecting any of this to lead anywhere. Enjoy your television responsibly, don't idolize television writers, eat your veggies, etc. etc. etc. And spoilers for the room, obviously.

Oh, and huge thank you to @watermotif @betweendoctorsanddetectives and @647763 (and her girlfriend) for playing the room with me! I had a blast suffering with you all <3

The way I'm getting myself to finally actually write this up is by telling myself it's okay if my thoughts are a little informal, especially after this long, so this is going to be written the way I usually structure my outlines in the format of chaotic bullet points. Hopefully it's still readable!

I'm starting my recap of the experience outside of the escape room itself, which was located in what was, for all intents and purposes, a random, abandoned seeming mall in London (it wasn't actually abandoned malls are just like that now)

So imagine you are just walking through what looks exactly like your local, very dead, mall, when there's just this massive wall with dark damask wall paper and the most DFP Sherlock quotes you can conceive of plastered on it. Think "I may be on the side of the angels but don't think for a second I am one of them" "heroes don't exist and if they did I wouldn't be one of them" "I'm a high functioning sociopath" etc. It's already hilarious

You come around the corner from that and there's the gated off "Doyle's Optometrist" office, where you have to page in (I think we had to state our group name, I can't remember exactly how we got in)

Once you're inside the staff helping you are named Stamford. Yes like Mike Stamford. Yes all of them. If you didn't know you were in for psychological torment, you do now

[brief intermission here because some of us arrived early, so they actually let us through to the Mind Palace bar while we waited. It was pretty cool, apart from the guy working there being really pushy about ordering drinks. The bar is Victorian themed with framed pictures from TAB and the biggest one in the room, like by far, was a framed picture of Sherlock and Moriarty's little gun standoff, so you know, that was fun.]

[here we are trying to be normal about it]

[also I went to the bathroom at this point and there was a little sign in the stall which said that the Sherlock theme song was exactly the right length to wash you hands to which was the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen in my life]

Anyway back to the intended order of the experience, Stamford led us back to the optometrist waiting room where we sat calmly while John Watson's voice read out random advertisements. (The only one of these I wrote down was "the eyes are the legs of the face" because it was so random, but there was a set of them)

Also as you will see in the following picture, the posters in here were Bananas

(In case you can't see it since it's small in dash, the purple one behind Mia says "Doyle's Audiographs: for those who hear but don't listen" very evocative of the "I did tell you but did you listen" motif, 0/10 very infuriating)

Stamford came over at this point and brought us back and gave us the rules, which included no photography so photos end here unfortunately

So we were taken to a projector room where John Watson addressed the players, saying that while it says the office belongs to Doyle, this is actually a front for one of Mycroft's plans (ha ha ha (deadpan)) and that he's coopted John into helping. (hah. do you get it? the author and the narrator? hillarious)

It was so clear that Martin did not want to be there. Like yes John in character also doesn't want to be there but Martin literally looked like he was being held at gunpoint. His eyes were dead. Poor guy.

Stamford led us through another room into the 221B living room! Being in here was surreal. Because there are a few groups lumped together at this point, we had a bit of time to look around the room. Rachel found a book about fetishes on the mantle, which was something.

We took our group picture, they let you pick from a few props. I went for the white queen chess piece for Dracula reasons and got bullied into wearing the deerstalker, which was homophobic.

Also the skull was the Yorick version, and I took a moment to stare into ACD's eyes, out of respect, as one does.

At this point the game proper begins! Sherlock's voice comes on (Ben is not on camera other than one brief exception which we will be coming back to later) and starts prepping us for our mission.

I don't remember the context but I think while telling us to be careful in the flat he told us "don't scrape your knees, or do." which was funny considering "the state of her knees"

Mycroft then addresses the audience (hah) only to be interrupted by Moriarty (hah) hacking the TV (hah hah hah)

The mirror above the fireplace? Also turns into a TV that Moriarty hacks. Ha. Ha ha ha ha.

Moriarty informs us that he has kidnapped Mycroft so the point of the game is to save Mycroft from Moriarty (I was fighting the urge to bash my head against the walls of 221b at this point, like I was expecting M Theory but like Come On you're killing me here)

You may be wondering how exactly Moriarty has kidnapped Mycroft considering he is dead. Great question! You don't get an answer apart from Moriarty saying "remember I am definitely dead" in the most sarcastic voice I have ever heard come out of Andrew Scott's mouth. Full psychological warfare at this point. Having a great time. The usual.

Also at this point, while talking about Mycroft, Moriarty compares him to Sherlock, and he definitely listed off a bunch of things but the part that most stood out was he said verbatim "Mycroft is like Sherlock without the fangirls or sex appeal" so uh. Um. Yeah. M Theory Time!!! All Aboard!!! Choo Choo!!!!

We were taken to the first of our three puzzle rooms: the morgue at St. Bart's. Moriarty is introducing the room and jokingly refers to the brief time he spent dating Molly, lets us know that our goal is to break into the computer system (a development which had me thrilled, you know I love the Moriarty as a Virus angle)

Not one full minute after Moriarty joked about Molly being his cover, Molly voice over talks to John (who by the way has a beard at this point, that I had not mentioned) and goes "nice beard!" Hah. Hah.

To get into the computer we needed to put in a date, I don't remember the context for this puzzle but the answer was 2012, the year of Season 2.

The case in the middle of the room then lights up and you're able to see the corpse. On the computer, a database comes in, and in order to get into the server, we need to fill out a series of questions about the identity of the corpse.

One of the filters is the relationship status of the corpse with three options, single, married m/f, and married m/m. I let out the most exhausted sigh of my entire life and hit married m/m without even looking at the corpse. (we briefly removed it because the room was giving us clues out of order that made us think for a moment that this was wrong, it was not, the corpse is gay, you have to not assume he's straight. Do you get it?) (war and strife on the planet earth)

So the clue for that is that the corpse has the name Stephen tattooed on him (really? of all the names? Stephen????) and you're meant to figure out that he wouldn't get a tattoo of his own name. Or just be so mentally exhausted that you intrinsically know the corpse is going to be gay because of course he is.

If that wasn't enough, the corpse was also a member of the Royal Navy who was left handed. Hi John.

At this point my friends in the room with me pointed me up to the TV in the corner, which was showing random news feed but the ticker tap at the bottom was advertising BBC Dracula, which was fun.

When we were finally getting into the cage the server was in, Moriarty kept ominously chanting "let me in"

Again, don't remember the context, but one of the clues in this room was identifying the heart

We discovered the corpse died of a horrific virus (hah) just as Moriarty hacked into the server thanks to us (once again was genuinely enjoying the code stuff, this is a 10/10 from me, makes fadow better for everyone who has done this silly escape room sdhgakjdsg)

The second room was Mycroft's underground office and our task from Moriarty was to locate where his agents were stationed throughout the world and once again send off his virus. I was giggling.

Flipping around with switches on Mycroft's desk, we found that the mirrors on either side of the room were actually windows! Because of course they were!

Sherlock comes in with a clue at this point and lets us know something to the effect of "Mycroft likes to hide clues in photographs" which was uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... normal.

Those are my only notes for this room and I don't remember literally anything else about it so sorry about that on to....

The final room: The Victorian Operating Theater! Oh boy!!!

Moriarty has been using us to access the genetic code (hah) for a virus (hah) last scene in the Victorian Era (hahahahahahahaa). He literally phrases it as "an old treasure brought into the modern day." Hillarious.

Then the absolute highlight of the experience: there's this giant console thing in the middle of the room that comes to life with all these screens, and on them including Moriarty taunting us and, the absolute 12/10 winner, footage of Sherlock wandering around 221B. This is the only Ben footage you get and not only does it confirm the "Moriarty is always spying on Sherlock" part of M Theory, it's very similar to the wall of monitors I came up with for fadow. Fellow Moriarty fan Mia and I were dying at this as much as we were able to while still trying to solve the room.

Moriarty freed Mycroft but had infected us with the virus (this is why I joke that Moriarty gave me COVID, because I caught it this day and it might as well have been from him)

His plan was to unleash the virus on the world unless we could stop him

This room was more physical puzzles than mental, and we had to cure the brain, the heart, and the lungs respectively. The brain and the heart are obviously big Sherlock meta staples so since then I've been like "why the lungs tho?" My best guess is it has something to do with breathing new life into an old story, but that's just a guess

While we were solving it and making progress Moriarty came on to rant something like "the game was over! You should have known when to give up!" Flames, flames on the side of my face.

When we won, Sherlock insulted us, but Mycroft then came on to compliment our efforts and talents, which was a great way to leave off.

Apparently only 20% of people actually solve the room, and we were in the top 20% of that, all while trying to take in the meta of it all, go League of Furies!!!

Final thoughts: this really was like if watching the show was a thing you could live through in real time. If you've ever wanted to be tormented by Mofftiss in a more visceral way, this room is exactly what you're looking for. Also shoutout to Andrew, who acted his absolute heart out, 15/10 thanks for all the M Theory, it was delicious

Also once again to reiterate, I can't believe James Moriarty gave me COVID, after all I have done for him, rest in pieces except he isn't even dead all the way.

I guess 4 months of not being able to breathe fully was the real lungs meta all along.

Can't wait for the Mind of Moriarty game next though for real, that's gonna be Bonkers, if one of the scenes is a virtual version of the waterfall scene from TAB I think I would combust on the spot

Thanks for reading!!! Sorry this took me forever only to be such a casual writeup in the end, but hopefully this recreation of my mental breakdown in a mall was entertaining.

#rebs blogging #the game is now #tjlc

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gaslightgallows · 2 months

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Please imagine a pithy title about fresh starts here.

(crossposted from Patreon)

Coming into 2024, I had big plans for how I was going to get back on track and get back to posting once a week and yeah, obviously, that hasn’t happened.

But what I have been doing is looking at my Patreon and at my own projects and figuring out some things I need to do differently. Last April, I changed my nom de plume because I wanted a fresh start. Now it’s time to give this entire Patreon project a refresh.

Here’s what’s happened so far:

Deleted my old A.F. Linley website and gave up the domain; the cost for hosting has risen by $200/year and I wasn’t using it as much as I thought I would back in 2018. Also I kept getting spam emails through the contact page.

Took down my Smashwords account; the single title I had managed to self-publish, a short story collection called Creeps, Ghouls and Jewels, had some serious formatting issues that it was not going to be worth the time/money to correct. Plus, I’m not happy with the changes that have come since Smashwords merged with Draft2Digital. (I’m considering moving to Payhip for future self-pubbed titles but that’s a discussion for a different post.)

I’m starting the process of taking down my Redbubble shop and....Okay, actually, I might have done that already? I just went to grab a link to the site in case anyone wanted to order a Moonicorns t-shirt before I deactivated but uh, it looks like it might’ve deactivated itself? Anyway, merch isn’t the right direction for me at this time, but I’ve still got all the actual designs and I really do like the “Finishing Things is Hard” logo, so I’m definitely going to hang onto that and slap that onto some stuff at a different print-on-demand site in the future.

Here’s what’s happening next:

New posting schedule: Starting in April, patrons will receive one short non-fiction post every week (500-1k words) and a piece of fiction every month (2-2.5k words). Oddments posts will continue to be free to read, but these take a decent amount of research and will be sporadic, basically happening around patron-only posts.

Revised patron tier perks: Getting rid of physical rewards and adding more digital ones. More details to come.

Current and long-time patrons: Thank you for sticking around while I get my shit together. I say that frequently. I mean it every single time.

Potential new patrons: Hello. I have just met you, and I love you. My name is Ethan, I live in a 200-year-old house and I’m writing a novel called The Lion’s Paw. It’s set in 1925 and is about an immortal queer disaster woman and what happens when 400+ years of terrible decisions catches up with her.

(I will neither confirm nor deny that she was inspired by H.G. Wells from Warehouse 13.) (Yes I will confirm it, she totally was.)

There are séances and ghostly possession and psychics, there is historical romance, and psychological horror, there are haunted houses and artists behaving badly and a lot of ladies making out.

I post about my writing process and all the weird little historical niches that pop up during my research. Frequent topics include:

Spiritualism

Cryptids

Historical curiosities

Medical quackery

Weird tech

General oddball occurrences and serendipitous intersections of history, folklore, and culture

And sometimes when I’m really bored I write short fiction via random prompts.

If any of that appeals to you, please consider subscribing! I’d love to have you along for this journey and my caffeine habit needs all the support it can get.

=====

Banner photo by Ryan Snaadt on Unsplash.

#patreon #original writing #the lion's paw #warehouse 13 #pinned post #reblogs welcome!

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bookwyrminspiration · 6 months

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KOTLC Graphic Novel: B&N Virtual Event Summary

There are no spoilers

Shannon Messenger was accompanied by Stuart Gibbs, author of Spy School and other series, who asked the questions

Enjoy!

Event's theme was Iggy Celebration--Shannon chose to wear dark blue, as it's secretly her favorite Iggy

It's officially called Dark Blue Iggy in the books, but the actual color nomination from fans was "tardis blue". She couldn't use that for potential legal issues, but she knows it's actually Tardis blue, making it her favorite

Shannon can't take credit for Iggy's changing color

She'd made him pink in book 2, and so a fan at an event asked her what color he'd be in the next book

Shannon asked her what color she wanted him to be. This fan, dressed in head to toe purple, leaned in and very seriously said "Orange." So Iggy was orange

Opened it to fans after that--but sadly never got the name of that one fan to thank her properly ("Whoever you are girl in purple, thank you!")

Book 10 doesn't have an official release date because Shannon's still writing it (as fast as she can!)

Iggy's color options for Book 10 are still undecided as well

Shannon thanks everyone immensely for their patience; "it's my focus! I want to get to them as fast as possible," but she also wants the book to be good and worth the wait

"Naive Shannon thought the later I got into the series the easier the books would be to write. WRONG!"

she has so many planted seeds to keep track of and constantly feels the pressure to one up her previous books

"I kinda wish I'd set the bar a little lower from the beginning"

She can't make a perfect book; there's always going to be someone who doesn't like something

She's reached the point of realizing her plans, and it's a delicate balance. You don't want reveals to feel like they came completely out of left field, but also don't want them to be like "I guessed that six books ago"

Finding the balance between feeling earned and still surprising is a daunting task ahead of her; it's more labor intensive than she thought it'd be

Stuart Gibbs points out that even if it takes a while, Shannon gives us a lot of book per book, so it's worth it

Shannon never intended to write such long books; she used to say every time that the next one she'd get the hang of being concise and it would be shorter, but everyone stopped believing her by book four

Was a graphic novel adaptation ever part of her plans? Secretly yes--she started as an art major and loves seeing illustrated versions of her characters. The highlight of her year is the cover art, and graphic novels are entire books!

It was on her author bucket-list, but she wasn't sure it'd would be possible; some books just don't work as graphic novels and they're expensive for publishers

When she found out she got the adaptation she "did a happy dance I was very grateful no one could see"

How involved were you in this process? Very involved, since her publishers know she has an art background

They let her pick from writers who auditioned--she wasn't sure that was a great idea because she didn't know if she could be objective; "no, I wrote it this way because it needs to be this way!"

Celina "knocked it out of the park" with her audition

For Gabriella, the artist, she was exactly what Shannon was looking for; she wanted a new style--Jason Chan (the cover artist) is incredible, but she wanted the GN to be distinct and more illustrated

She describes the GN as "like Disney meets manga," cartoonish but not

Shannon gave notes on rough drafts, inked pages, and colored versions--she's sure they got sick of her notes by the end of it

She remembers thinking "certain Keefe jokes MUST make it in," but then seeing them in the visual format they realized "huh, this joke isn't funny anymore"

Anything that surprised you about the process? Definitely some of those Keefe jokes not working, but also the fact they had to split it. At first she thought they could work it all into one, but emotion takes longer to convey visually, and they were "robbing the heart out of the book" by trying to fit it in one

Shannon jokes everything she writes ends up longer than they expect

Do you have any idea about part two? It's in the works, but it's a herculean task for the artists, so it all depends on them; "do not blame them at all! this is a daunting, daunting, massive work load"

Shannon owes Gabriella "all the cookies ever"

it's a very tight timeline, so they'll share the release date when they have it, but for now just let the artist do their thing

Was it weird to spend so much time with book 1 again? Forget anything? Want to change anything? There were some sentences she wanted to rewrite--"a book is never done, it's just due"

Thought about adding Gisela in book one, since she wishes she'd introduced her then; she always knew she'd play a huge role, but thought it'd be more clever to not introduce her until she was ready to bring her into play.

Now she disagrees with that decision and wishes she'd been there from book one, but decided that "it's not bad the way she did it, but it would've been more elegant" so she didn't change it

Does Gibbs have anything he would change about his book? He says you don't always know which characters will catch on, some some that become important he wishes he spent more time with in the beginning--"if I'd done this in book one, I couldn't done this in book 7!"

Any movie news? Hollywood is so much hurry up and wait, a ladder with thousands of rungs; they got caught at the script stage when the writer's strike happened, and even though the strike ended that doesn't mean the gears start turning again immediately.

the script is the most important thing, especially since KOTLC would be a very expensive movie, so the more solid the foundation the better the chance they have of getting greenlit

Her fingers are crossed; she wants a movie/show, but she wants it to be a good movie/show

Fans often don't realize how much work it is and how out of the author's hands it is

Reader questions! (name spellings are to the best of my ability)

Celiana: what advice do you have for young authors? Focus on writing and enjoying that part of the process before publishing! Publishing is stressful and complicated

Shannon throws the question to Gibbs. He says a lot of the times fans tell them they don't like their writing, it's their first draft. "Well that would be the problem."

Very few people hit it out of the park on their first try. Editing is a super important part of the process!

Shannon writers her books weird (editing intensely as she goes because she's always behind on deadlines, and hopes to go back to normal one day), but before that she'd have 2 or 3 drafts each. Book 1 was draft 20, Exile was draft 3, Everblaze was 2.

Gibbs does about 10 drafts each (though admits his outlines process isn't nearly as rigorous as Shannon's)

Shannon reached a point where she said "I don't think I'm smart enough to do this alone anymore!" Her books are like houses of cards, and she simply doesn't have time for the drafts to fall apart

She and her team frequently painstakingly plan things out--and even then sometimes have to scrap things. Remember that scene we rigorously went through last week? "it's not working! Now what?"

Mary Claire: Was it hard for you to find a publisher? Yes. First she got an agent, as that's important when traditionally publishing. She got her at draft 13--said that while she loved the book and its idea, you could tell this was Shannon's first book.

They went through a few edits and thought draft 15 was the one, but she got LOTS of rejections

her confidence was shaken, and draft 16 turned into a mess

At draft 18 it was sold, and then they went through 2 more versions with an actual editor; "so so much rewriting..."

Gibbs tried to get published as a kid, but was rejected throughout all of his schooling, so "to heck with this! I'm going to Hollywood to write movies"...which was actually pretty similar

he came back to writing 15.5 years ago during the last writers strike--"hey maybe I should try this book thing again"

They don't share their experiences to scare you; it's worth it, but you have to love writing to be an author given how much work and rejection it is

That's why Shannon says to enjoy the writing stage as long as you can; you need to fall in love with writing and with your story and truly believe in it

Were you always reading as a kid? Writing stories? When did you decide to write a book? Shannon was very focused on art as a kid and wanted to be a Disney animator, but her art doesn't work for that; she can't draw what's in her head, she can only copy, which "makes me about as useful as a camera"

She thought she could learn the skill, but couldn't in art classes; she realized she was always going to be frustrated if she kept at it

She'd started college at 16 and now her life plan was falling to pieces, so her mom advised her to take a class for fun

it was a film class, since she thought she'd be able to watch TV for school

she was, but her teacher also encouraged her to go to film school since she could finally bring things out properly on the page how they were in her head

"You have a lot to learn, but I see something in you." "Cool, I'm a film major now. Answered!"

Turns out film is too collaborative for her and she wanted more control; "there's those book things, I guess I could try those."

She doesn't regret the journey

Addie: How do you et the ideas to write? Shannon wishes she had a tree that sprouted money and great ideas, but really ideas are everywhere and it's a matter of paying attention.

You don't need your whole idea all at once--can be small like "I wonder if that hat...wasn't a hat at all!"

She knew she wanted to work with elves, and she knew she wanted to strip the magic from the story in favor of sci-fi/superhero logistics. The rest came bit by bit

Some days she couldn't write fast enough, others it was "oo, what if they wore capes?"

Elizabeth: what do you do when you have writers' block? Shannon doesn't like to call it that because that makes it seem scarier than it is; to her it's just being stuck, and she plays the "what if?" game

What if I got rid of the previous scene? What if they went here instead? What if, what if, what if? Open yourself to new possibilities

Gibbs is a big going for a walk person for when you're stuck. We all get stuck, not just young writers. he also likes hiking--walking but not coming back for a while.

At this point a poll was sent to the audience asking them to choose between 5 pairs. Bolded won with percentage included afterwards

Teleporting or light leaping? (63%). Eternalia or Mysterium? (63%). Bathe a T-Rex or Pet a Verminion? (55%). Telepath or Empath? (62%). Cape or No Cape? (60%)

Shannon's surprised the Keefe fans didn't pull through with the Empath vote

No matter what Shannon writes, someone's going to be unhappy, so she started pulling back on appealing to fans and prioritizes what fits the story

Marissa: Will Iggy ever go back to grey? That's up to the readers! Shannon leaves it completely in our hands, so if we ever nominate and vote for grey, she'll write it.

Shannon thanks everyone for reading and being patient, as she's writing as fast as she can

When a book is released she usually celebrates with a dessert; she ordered a bunch of fall flavor donuts from Krispy Kreme today, so she's not sure if she'll save one for tomorrow or get something new

It's dangerous that she can just push a button and donuts will show up at her house (doordash)

Gibbs and Shannon hope everyone love the graphic novel as much as they do--and stay tuned for part 2!

#kotlc #kotlc graphic novel #i feel like there's less new knowledge than usual in an event but that makes sense #since a graphic novel adaptation is very different from a new book #anyway. hope you enjoyed and find some of this interesting or useful!#i've pared my notes down a little so there's a few things that didn't make the cut #but i think it's still pretty thorough :)

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piratekane · 3 months

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i read a lot of books in january so i figure that i'd give y'all a quick rundown on what i loved, what was terrible (affectionate), and what was also terrible (derogatory).

top reads:

Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid okay, why did no one tell me how good this book was? i knew the show was about music but wasn't super into giving it a watch. i was not expecting the format at all but boy did it set up a compelling story. billy and daisy truly were the bitch4bitch relationship everyone needs. 5 stars

Locklands by Robert Jackson Bennet this is the final installment in the founder trilogy and what. an. ending. the first, Foundryside, was a solid start with a weird plot point at the end but and it picked up in Shorefall with more lore (that i loved) but really blossomed into something amazing in Locklands. the POV changed, the villain evolved, the lore - i love a good magic system, truly i do, and it just came together for me. came for the sapphic romance (of which there is not much in Foundryside) and stayed for the story. would recommend to my cousin. 5 stars

terrible (affectionate):

Yearning by Gun Brooke this was just... okay, so. aliens. aliens and a femme-butch cop (you know the type) and a high-femme librarian (you also know this kind) whose clinical exterior is broken down by the sudden realization that she can be queer because she's actually living in a town filled with descendants of aliens. it was quick and easy and i just kept going, "aliens. fucking aliens." 3 stars (no alien-makeout scene)

terrible (derogatory):

Wild and Wicked Things by Francesca May i tried to like this one. i really did. Great Gatsby meets Practical Magic isn't my cup of tea but my cousin recommended it and she reads for a living so i said sure. that cousin is uninvited from christmas next year. the pacing was so off and the two main characters were either "edgy" or a wet mop. their romance was terrible (edgy-witch too edgy to be in love) and felt forced. the story either zipped through major plot points that needed work or just. dragged. on. almost did not finish but it would have haunted me not to 1.5 stars

honorable mention:

i read Nevernight by Jay Kristoff again. it's a classic. mia and ash, my favorite murder children. i will read godsgrave posthaste 10 stars

plans for february:

Faebound by Saara El-Arifi i'm reading this one now and i like the premise so far. Samantha Shannon gave it a stamp of approval, hence my willingness to give it a shot. guess we'll see!

Roots of Chaos series by Samantha Shannon a friend just reread A Day of Fallen Night and it's got me longing for 800 page books all over again. might have to just give in

queer fantasies really anything that's queer fantasy. if y'all have recommendations, throw them my way!

okay so that's that, see you again next month!

#me @ me all the time #a pirate reads #a pirate does many things it's just that this one is reading and drinking right now and for the foreseeable future

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arvoze · 4 months

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Do you have a comic or story I can read somewhere with your Pokemon OCs? 🥺

currently, no! but i do plan on making a comic about them eventually, and i'd like to get it started this year (it will be called verdant ventures!). it will most likely be in the visual format of these, which i made specifically with VV in mind. verdant ventures, in comic format, will be a comedy slice-of-life where most pages won't be entirely connected, but i'll dip into multi-page stuff whenever i feel like it, & will have little bits of story stuff sprinkled in. i do comedy and SoL first and foremost, but character interaction & exploration of serious subjects are both incredibly important to me, so those will show up too :-] the MCs of the comic/story are my cacturne & breloom & nuzleaf, who are brothers (not by blood but should only be seen as such). i lurve them

my pmd ocs can all be seen in my toyhouse folder, but the bios i gave for my main guys are extremely old and outdated (i just can't be bothered to wipe them). i've only recently been posting about them on tumblr in regards to crossposting on twitter! but i ramble more about them in the tags here haha.

i write a lot about them, but not usually in any cohesive way. i did write a vague this-is-how-this-would-happen for one event between my guys, though, that i haven't uploaded in full anywhere (i did consider doing it today, actually!)

unfortunately, for now though, the best way to learn about my guys is just through my occasional posting (i haven't drawn much since december last year). but if you have any specific questions about anything, i've been meaning to fully accept random questions on/off anon to answer eventually :-]! i appreciate your interest! ^__^

#speaking of asks. i do still have to answer sikos question about calamity.....#i've just got a lot of owed/etc art to get around to still before i can figure out VV for real #(& a lot of otherrrr stuff to think about like pmdnd related things and the likes)#im a very busy boy whilst simultaneously getting absolutely nothing done whatsoever.........

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thedawningofthehour · 6 months

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6, 14, 17, 18, and 29 for the fic writer asks (or however many of those you want to answer!! I know thats a lot sorry lol)

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

@spectralsleuth's Little Scraps of Wisdom. It's the perfect blend of just fluffy enough to not require tons of mental energy, but also serious and angsty enough to keep my attention. Also the format makes it really easy to pick a section and just dip in-perfect for my ADHD ass.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Doth, at least parts of it. The whole thing wouldn't translate well to visual media-there's tons of introspection, conversations that wouldn't be all that interesting visually. (at least not animated-you don't really get Cersei Lannister-esque performances from animated characters) Stuff like the actions scenes, big scenes with multiple people speaking, those would probably translate the best.

My Dishonored fic, god no. It's video game media and it's very obvious that that's the source material. It would be incredibly boring if you weren't in Daud's head the whole time.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

Uhh. Like. So much stuff?

For doth, it's been insanely broad. On any given day, my writing window might be filled with Wikipedia pages on scientific topics, cultural, history, law. Right now I have a bunch of pages open about military tactics and technology, a Google Maps of NYC, and then some articles on nobility and royal titles.

For The Red Queen, I had to learn a lot of architecture terms when writing Daud running around doing backflips off rooftops. I don't even think half of them even made it into the text, but I had to know what he was perched on top of like a daddy seagull. I also did a whole dive into the Black Death for that one. Oh, if you want an interesting fact, did you know the plague was actually carried by fleas and not rats like many assumed? That's partially why it was so bad in cities. Poland actually had a much lower death toll than the rest of Europe in part because of its high Jewish population (mostly refugees because many cities blamed them for the plague-because of fucking course they did) who washed more frequently than the average peasant at the time and their neighbors decided to get in on that too. Milan survived relatively unscathed because whenever someone showed signs of plague, they and their family members were walled up in their homes and set on fire.

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

I like the entire exchange between Leo and Draxum on the roof. There were a lot of details written into those lines that gave extra information or conveyed something about their mental states.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

I've played around with writing out Cass's consensual kidnapping and walking in on Gale being brainwashed, with some blurbs about her adjusting to life in the Hidden City. They never really got past scraps, but I can post this scrap.

She’s just getting back from school, last week before winter break, her head swarming with final this and final that. Tom says hello to her from where he’s working at the dining room table. Casey says hello back and promptly excuses herself to go work on her final paper for English.

He should be happy about that. She’s actually doing her homework.

Tom’s not bad, she supposes. He’s nice enough and doesn’t try to catch her coming out of the shower. He and Cindy offered to pay the fee if she rejoined the hockey team this year. But he gets on her every last nerve. She’s their first foster and they are absolutely trying too hard. At least Cindy isn’t home enough to annoy her.

She shuts her bedroom door and drops her backpack on the floor. Ugh. She could kill whoever invented academic papers. Well, the Odyssey isn’t going to write about itself.

“I have to say, this wasn’t-”

Casey whirls around, grabbing the first thing she registers-some Hello Kitty knick-knack she keeps on her dresser, in this case-and hurls it at the intruder.

Draxum bats it away, barely raising an eyebrow.

#doth asks #ask game

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curiouslycaffeinatedcephalopod · 2 months

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entry 03

do not be afraid to use technology if using paper based methods of note taking, planning and scheduling and journaling.

when i first started my research project i was afraid of using only applications and software such as Notion, drives for storage, Microsoft Word AI grammar assistance etc. I was afraid because i was told (and anxious about it myself) that i could lose my data and information if i didn't have a backup on paper.

this resulted in me not quite meeting my weekly deadlines with tasks and goals because i was spending time "backing up" all my data, planning, schedules, meeting notes, everything.

Whilst i definitely agree with others that you should have a back up, a lot of these applications and software are so well developed and have really well functioning servers, there is such a minimal chance of just losing everything. it would be more logical to make back ups on other storage platforms/drives than keeping everything in paper AS WELL. this is so time consuming and sends you in a panic every time you need to upload data, write notes, prepare documents, edit documents, review data and leaves you with notes you made hastily (and anxiously) which often times never even helped me as the notes were illegible because i was in such a rush.

of course, a paper based method for laboratory notes is a good idea as devices are not recommended in the labs if you're working with biological matter/chemical substances - pencil down your notes and then you can go home if you have the time and the need to write it onto a notion page or type up a document so that you can review the protocol and how you performed during and the outcomes, any changes you may need to make etc.

you can use notion for your research scheduling and planning and just keep a very simple bullet journal/notebook for day to day notations and planning. i had been told to make sure i have a paper based record of everything i wrote on my notion but i think you can keep an abbreviated version and rather keep a copy pasted document of this and/or screenshots and store that across multiple drives (or one if you're not an anxious academic like me, haha).

if anyone tells you how you should do something so intricately personal to each student/researcher because they do not like the interface you use (yes, i was told i should not use the one thing that has worked for me because it was too difficult for the other party to understand or review), it is obviously nice and kind to try and provide things a format they understand, but do not stop doing the thing you enjoy and that actually helps you reach your goals.

context for number 3:

i found notion through various content creators in the research realm, with mixed recommendations ranging from yes it works well to no not for me. i struggle with planning and procrastinating and academic challenges so i decided to give it a go. honestly, the fact that it was aesthetically customisable was a big plus. that is just simply something that makes me want to work. the next thing was its cross compatibility with other apps and software i used, primarily google. it helped me keep track of upcoming meetings, events and urgent tasks and provided a way for me to visually see my progress. but someone i was wokring with, whose opinion mattered very much to me, had mentioned that they were not a fan and that they did not have the time to use the interface, even though the interface was not our primary mode of communication regarding my research project, it was simply a way for them to see how i was spending my time or planning to as a student of theirs. needless to say, i gave up because their way took way too much time already. it is not a problem or a topic that requires someone to blame, i just was in the midst of an already overwhelming time in my project and had to just do what i needed to survive (lol).

anyways, the lesson i learnt was, after falling a couple months behind because of poor planning and compatibility with how i was going about my most important component of my research was that you really need to prioritise the thing that works for you. whether that is paper based or digital.

but you cannot spend every moment fearing that notion will drop off the face of the earth with all your notes and plans along with it. i wasted so much time stressing and creating paper and digital back ups of EVERYTHING. i have now had to spend essentially a month organising things across multiple emails and drives just to get a start on my next big project. the most important lesson will definitely be that you need to train and teach yourself to know what are things that require a back...

you do not need 17 backups, paper and digital of plans passed and plans to come, you will quickly be reminded or be able to recall most such things as they will stress you out and haunt you so much anyways.

however you certainly do need a sufficient back up of data that belongs to the university as part of your project, or any personal methods of tracking such things.

anyways, sorry for the long rambles i post, i am using tumblr as a way to have a blog until i can actually get a website and publish better and more concise posts. i hope you still enjoy reading or at least find some solace or advice in between it all!

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shivunin · 8 months

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Hullo! ✨🌺

Hope things are going great for you, beside the slow oil change!

In the meanwhile, for the fic writer ask what about..

1, 2, 23, 65, 75? :3

Honestly? Yesterday I watched a rainstorm start over the mountain near my work. It has barely rained all summer, but the sun came up and painted the mountain red and the rain was grey and soft over the top and I almost cried because I am happy to be alive and watch the rain.

So, aside from the slow oil change, things are going great c: I hope you're doing well also and that your holiday was restful 💗

(Fic-writer ask)

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multichaptered fics?

Both? There are benefits and downsides to each. One shots are quick to write and I (generally) think I do a good job of packing a lot into a smaller word count, but there is a limit to how much ground I can cover in that space. Multi-chapter fics are fun because I can say so much more and work a lot of turmoil into the story, but I have to keep my own attention on just one thing for long enough to finish (which has been harder lately).

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Lol well. Both? I have a general outline of events for longer stories and I feel out the tone and emotional beats as I go. Sometimes I get really into it and have to throw out the outline entirely (this happened in both Wander and Your Fate, actually) because I've found a better resolution. If anything doesn't work, I can always fix it in editing.

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

Actually, on that note: editing is not your enemy! Have fun with it. I took a writing class in college with this professor who adored the process of editing. For one assignment, we had to print out our whole project and line it up vertically somewhere- stuck to a wall or hung on a line. I clipped mine together and pulled each page off as I read it (like one of those old calendars) without touching or changing anything and it gave me a totally different perspective of the process.

Editing is not making something perfect; it's a journey in and of itself, a lovely part of writing because you finally get to see all of your own work together even if it's not quite there yet, and I love it. So, get creative with editing. Transfer it to a new format (that you can't change, preferably) and read it with fresh eyes (you can always make notes on the side if your feel compelled). Or read it aloud or hang it on a laundry line or doodle in the margins.

So in short, my writing advice is: have fun with editing! Editing is your friend!

65. Tell us what you're most looking forward to writing in your current project or a future project?

Ooh. Either Maria deciding to go out in a blaze of glory or Fenris finding out she is gone c: I'm writing it as soon as I get home!

75. What scene in [fanfic name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it?

Hmm well, I'm going to take this generally. I think the scene in Wander when Emma and Cullen are talking in the library after he pulls her unconscious from Darktown. It was hard to decide how much she would tell him about how she's really doing and how much she'd hold back and it went through a lot of iterations before I was happy with it. I wanted it to be clear that they still love each other even though they've both changed so much, but they aren't really ready to trust each other (or themselves) again. It was a tough balance to strike, but I think I got it eventually!

#me answering both to every question lol. sorry i am a bisexual I'm not here to make definitive choices #ask response #ask game response #thank you again for asking!! i miss being around to talk as much. i fear our schedules are sort of opposite now #ironically it is hard to edit on mobile so please excuse any typos lol

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jarateblog · 9 months

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The Ultimate Gary Numan Album Recap

(long post, you don't have to read it unless you really want to)

Because my OCD willed it into existence. Over the past couple weeks I've been relistening to each of Numan's albums and felt like I'd just write short reviews/recommendations for each of them. I planned to make a page on my website for him, but I may just end up copy-pasting this post on there or embedding it in some fashion since the blog function here works pretty well. Without further ado:

Tubeway Army (1978)

His first album with his initial band lineup still going under the name of Tubeway Army. Early demos heard on The Plan compilation show how rooted these tracks were in the stereotypical punk sound of the late '70s, but his songwriting and alien-like vocals made them unique and fun to listen to. The addition of synths to the final renditions of the songs that ended up on this album punch and feel overwhelming on a good stereo, illustrating Numan's common retelling of discovering synthesizers for the first time. While I feel it may be a hard sell for some on first listen because of Gary's idiosyncratic voice, I feel approaching with an open mind will provide a satisfying listen.

Replicas (1979)

Still under the Tubeway Army name, this is technically their last album and the transition to Gary's "solo" career. The Tubeway Army lineup would still be his backing band until 1981. This album is one of his most successful though and it makes sense. There are even more synth-heavy hits that utilize the electronic sound in place of guitars, and an overlapping but loose set of narratives about a dystopian future of androids going about their dingy, daily lives. I feel his lyrics are probably at their most creative here, as they aren't as repetitive in their format as they would kind of become from here on. A high recommend for a listen to the full album, especially if you're familiar with "Are 'Friends' Electric" or "Down in the Park," two of his most popular singles.

The Pleasure Principle (1979)

Artists in the '70s were cracked. Making two albums within the span of a year is insane, especially when they're both masterpieces. Outside of the obvious worldwide hit "Cars," every track is worth a listen on here too. If I were to critique, however, this is the beginning of Gary finding one instrument sample and sticking to it for a few years before finding something else to use to death. The string synth heard on "Cars" is everywhere on this album, even right from the beginning on "Airlane." It's far from a bad sound, it's actually really cool, very sci-fi-esque, but it's still worth noting that you'll hear it pretty frequently until around '82. With the strings, however, every track feels like an orchestrated event with a rock touch, and the bass and drum work is sublime.

Telekon (1980)

An even more grandiose event than The Pleasure Principle. The opening of "This Wreckage" is still one of the most satisfying introductions to any album for me. The lyrics have a sense of finality to them, partially because Gary planned to retire from the fame and elaborate live shows after its release. It is overall a great close to his self-dubbed 'Machine-Era,' although I'm not a big fan of every song on here to find it a complete masterpiece. The singles released around this era are some of my most favorites of his, however, like "I Die: You Die" and "We Are Glass."

Dance (1981)

Man, did this one take FOREVER to grow on me. Perhaps the most experimental of Numan's work, his original band went on to form their own ill-fated group Dramatis (that Gary still featured on) while he brought on many well-respected producers and instrumentalists to help bring this project to life. It's got ambience, jazz, funk, and rock, and is a long ride in comparison to his previous albums, reaching almost 50 minutes in length (two songs are almost 10 minutes on their own!). It's one of my favorites now though. I'm so glad I gave it another chance after so many years.

Even though I had a hard time getting into it originally, I feel that anybody who has had a longer stake in music than me would find appreciation much quicker than I did.

I, Assassin (1982)

The first album of his that I'm a bit more mixed on. While I feel instrumentally, it is outstanding, this is also one of Gary's most inconsistent vocal performances. Fretless bass provided by Pino Palladino is what gives this album a distinct, sometimes improvisational sound, but it is often marred by lots of vocal drags of Numan's that either don't fit with the funky, danceable grooves, or fail to flow into each other well. Regardless, there are still great tracks like "War Songs" and the B-Sides "The Image Is" and "Noise Noise."

Warriors (1983)

His last album on the Beggars Banquet label, and what feels like another end to another era of his music. Continuing with the experimental, ambient, and funk inspirations from his previous two albums, this album is highly mixed by the public. It took some time for me to fully appreciate, but I like this album about just as much as I, Assassin, if not more on occasion. Unfortunately, this was the beginning of consistent female backing vocals being introduced to his music (something Gary has documented before as a recommendation from Beggars, who must've started losing faith in the uniqueness of his voice). They aren't that bad here, though, the '80sisms of their presence had yet to come I think. Gary's vocals are much more consistent and confident here too (perhaps as a response to the backing vocals being added). Personally, I feel the singles "Warriors" and "Sister Surprise" are the most catchy, while the many other tracks fit well as deep cuts despite their slower compositions.

Berserker (1984)

His first album on his newly opened Numa label. This era started off with a bang that would be nearly impossible to follow up on subsequent albums in the decade. Numan's new ghostly image is paired with heavy drums, icy synths, an occasional oriental theme, and remix-like production edits. Not every song is a masterpiece despite Gary owning full creative control over his music at this point, as he still brought the backing vocals with him and they're even more prominent than last time. He must have taken the haters' criticisms to heart... There is a heavier focus on a pop-funk sound too, which can at times date this record. I still love it despite its flaws and would consider it one of my favorites of his.

(Side note: Gary uses an old slang/offensive term for lesbian on "This Is New Love," but within the context of the lyrics and album concept he isn't condoning the use of it. I guess you could call it a MF DOOM situation, IYKYK)

(Side Side note: Albums from the rest of this decade into 1994 are nearly impossible to listen to in full on streaming services because the current rights holders are lazy, make bad digital transfers, and Gary's ashamed of this era in retrospect. I don't blame him for some, but it's not all bad. The stuff is easy to find on YouTube though. Numa records really didn't release copies outside of the UK either, so a lot of the stuff is absurdly expensive today and piracy is the only feasible way to listen in 'high' quality without going broke.)

The Fury (1985)

While Berserker felt like the perfect start to a new era of Numan's career, The Fury dives further into what I found to be the weaker aspects of it. Opening track "Call Out the Dogs" seems to question the lack of radio play he's been receiving, and this becomes a common theme for MANY, and I mean, MANY of his songs in this decade. In later interviews, Gary has often discussed feeling insecure during this period, and that lead to very uninspired lyrics.

Other tracks are honestly just kind of disgusting to listen to because they require you to suspend your disbelief that Gary is some sort of stud who gets all the ladies (I mean, look at the cover, who wouldn't want a man in a white tux???/s He's legitimately sexy as a DILF nowadays tho ngl). The female backing vocals are at their most prevalent and grating too, often overpowering Gary's own and exuding a level of '80s cheese that no one should have to be subjected to (no offense to the singers, they just shouldn't have been on this album).

I will still say that the song "Tricks" is really good though. I wish the stems for this album would leak or something, because minus the vocals it is quite fun to listen to. There are even more metallic sounding synthesizers that paired with the funky rhythms could really stand on their own. It's noticeably lower in budget than Berserker though, using many stock samples that ignore the sound experimentation he used to employ. I don't hate this album, but it is very mediocre and insulting in comparison to what came before and after.

Strange Charm (1986)

A more positive package than The Fury, thankfully. About 7/8 of the songs on this album are good, great, or amazing, with some being his very best. "My Breathing" is a long, Mideast-inspired piece which he occasionally performs live today, and "New Thing from London Town" is a foreboding collaboration with Bill Sharpe from Shakatak (who'll show up later). Thankfully, the backing singers are actually in the back for the majority of this album, which helps enhance the experience like on Warriors rather than overpower it like on The Fury. There's a broader use of electronics here too, helping it stand out among his other albums from this era.

Metal Rhythm (1988)

As the name implies, there is a heavier focus on using loud, reverb-heavy drums, akin to many industrial acts of the late '80s. Unfortunately, because it seems Gary had never listened to bands like Cabaret Voltaire, Ministry, or Skinny Puppy at the time (or he had but was too afraid to take the risk), this album still leans heavily into the pop-funk style like The Fury. Minus the often uninspired or questionable lyrics...

On "Voix": "I don't like young girls, I don't like boys; I like some bitch to scare me, I like that noise"

?????

...there are some tracks that hit exceptionally well. He even played "Voix" well into the '00s, although he never bothered to improve the lyrics. About half of the songs here are good and catchy, but they come with some caveats. The rest are bland attempts at radio-friendly sounding music with generic synth pads and repetitive choruses although the lyrics often gave stations reasons not to air them.

(Another side note: Because his own Numa Records were running low on funds, Gary had to move to Illegal Records in the UK and I.R.S. Records in the US. Therefore, most countries outside of the UK finally received this album as New Anger a year later with an extremely botched track lineup. The original is still probably the preferred way to listen, IMO, but this album as New Anger is available for streaming)

Automatic (1989)

Throughout the '80s, Gary collaborated with Bill Sharpe of the band Shakatak to provide vocals to what were mostly Sharpe-composed synth-pop songs. This album is a sort of compilation of all their tracks from 1984 to 1989 (minus "New Thing from London Town" which featured on Strange Charm), with this album's own "I'm On Automatic." They are very of the time, but well-produced, catchy, and fit together regardless of the years each track originally released. I feel Gary could have utilized more input like this in his sound during the mid-to-late '80s on his own albums, because as it stands, this is one of my favorite (partial) projects of his! According to him in later interviews, he considered collaborating more, but didn't want to rely on other people for his image and career. Which, I suppose that's understandable. Still, for as rough as the '80s had been on him, it may have been better for his mental health in the end.

Outland (1991)

Probably my least favorite album of his.

*GASP,* the imaginary Numanoid I made up in my head reading this goes

Sort of an experimental album like Dance, in the sense it attempts to build an atmosphere with "Interval" tracks and segues. Musically, many songs just feel off, like they're in the wrong key, but it's more likely that it's just an unfitting choice of instrument samples being used. They're often stock or cheap sounding.

It again goes for a pop-funk sound with some more prominent soul influences. "Confession" is a guilty pleasure, "My World Storm" is pretty good, and "Dream Killer" is one of his better ballads, but I can't really stand to listen to the rest. It's not that they ooze too much cheese that it's fondue, they're just... failed attempts at making fromage bleu... I don't know where the fuck I'm going with this.

You may like it. As implied above, there are actually many fans of this album in the community. My thoughts below will probably discredit all my other reviews anyways.

Machine + Soul (1992)

Funny that both Numan and Aphex Twin sample the same thing around the same time lol. Gary's self-proclaimed "low-point" to pay off debts. He claims that this album is musically sound, but not a Numan album, and to that I say BULLSHIT because he's been making non-Numan albums for about a decade at this point if going by his implied definition of what makes one! Anyways, beyond the romanticism of claiming this is the worst to push everything afterwords on a needless pedestal, this album is FINE. It's a perfectly FINE record. It's dated by about 5 years in its style and production, but so was Outland.

Hell, I'd even call some songs good. Great, even. The title track rocks. "Generator" is a slightly embarrassing but catchy pop song. "The Skin Game" is relentless though. One of my least favorite tracks that oddly became one of my favorites upon revisiting. It's actually quite introspective for this time in his career. The lyrics are very self-deprecating when reading into them and it makes sense that Numan almost quit his career after releasing this album. It's veiled under backing vocal refrains that mimic a standard pop song, but it's actually quite bleak. Sounds like something off Cabaret Voltaire's CODE, just half a decade too late. "I Wonder" and "Love Isolation" are two of my favorites of his as well. They evoke a lot of what makes his subsequent '90s releases so good. The B-Sides and Demos of this album (and admittedly many his '80s albums) also really demonstrate that he could make some killer ambient, ominous, or somber tracks that just wouldn't fit with his desire to appeal to radio-play.

You could also tell that he had to really push the runtime for tracks to reach about 50min in total with samples and room to let the drum machines just go, but there aren't many tracks that are hard to listen all the way through. "Poison" is one exception, which has an off-key sounding trumpet reminiscent of Outland and a poor attempt at Gary trying to rap... I think? The Prince cover of "U Got the Look" is fine but sad as Gary rarely covered any artist throughout his career. Plus, Prince should've been the one covering Numan.

Sacrifice (1994)

If Machine + Soul HAD Gary's soul and desires to make what he always wanted. While this album was a sign of things to come, for better or for worse (lyrical themes focusing too much on hardcore atheism basically, something he would only allude to in passing on previous albums), this album is a perfect example of making something with what you have. The ultimate industrial mindset as it were. His to-be wife supposedly introduced him to a world of music he hadn't experienced in his chase for attempted radio-friendly material, including Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails' mainstream industrial records of the time, and the new influences are worn on this album's sleeve while still feeling completely original.

Gone are the backing singers with the exception of the one and only TJ Davis (yes, of Sonic R fame) who adds to the emotion of "Scar" in its chorus and bridge. Every track is amazing on here to me, so it's undeniably my favorite album of his along with Replicas and Dance. Sure, it's lacking any sort of production that should have been expected at the time, and for such a relatively high-profile artist, but it has such raw emotion and energy in it that was sorely missing from his albums in the decade preceding it. It was almost entirely created and produced by himself, with some additional guitar and help from M+S producer, Kipper. So, with no live percussion, Gary just intentionally programmed the drum machines and sequencers to be relentless in their composition while he could focus on singing.

May not be everyone's cup of tea, but it's certainly how I like mine. It's just a shame it's not available on any streaming services.

Exile (1997)

Thanks to the turning point of Sacrifice and a conveniently released tribute album by Beggars, his resurgence into popularity seemed to help Numan release this album with a greater budget and worldwide release. You can actually stream this album! While Sacrifice had many moments of introspection and outward atheism, Exile creates a fictitious narrative where there is no distinction between Heaven and Hell. Some fans left at this point because of the concrete shift in lyrical topics. I personally don't care as I'm not religious myself, but I don't have a hate boner for it like Numan. I feel the lyrics could have been fleshed out more for a better defined world that he is describing though.

Although the tracks still rely heavily on drum machines, there is a heavier focus on live guitar, even an acoustic which shows up in the final, eponymous track, ending the album on a somber but foreboding note in its strummed chords. The rest of the album feels fittingly dark for its themes and expression, and Gary's vocals are often shrouded in reverb like he's singing in a black, empty room. There's an official extended version of this album (as well as the rest of his Numa releases minus Strange Charm for some reason), and it's well worth listening to on its own even though some tracks are pretty lazily edited to be longer (like the opener/lead single "Dominion Day").

Pure (2000)

Probably the first true album of Gary's modern era, so his recent albums can be referred back to here for their song structures. As a result, this is where I slightly fall off of the hype train as sacrilege as that may sound coming from me. There are still some elements of the previous Sacrifice and Exile albums here (mainly the keyboard samples), but a greater focus on utilizing live studio recorded equipment that leans further into what I self-dub "headache-metal." Think of NIN from The Fragile onwards, or bands like Pearl Jam, Breaking Benjamin, etc (I know that's A LOT of crossover but if you grew up in the '90s or '00s you probably have at least an inkling of what I'm getting at).

Therefore, this may be just the perfect album for those who like those bands! It's just not my thing, personally. That's where I like the more fast-paced tracks like "Listen to My Voice" or slow but calmer songs like "Little InVitro" (which mourns his wife's miscarriage). He never fully devolves into screamo territory, but he does do a lot of yelling here. This album is LOUD. Like, the first album of his I had the turn the volume DOWN for. Potentially a result of the loudness wars.

Jagged (2006)

The time between Pure and Jagged was filled with smaller collaborations, remix projects, and touring. His touring band started getting involved more in the recording process though, with guitarist Steve Harris finally being given the credit he deserves (I have one of his guitar picks, so I'm biased!). I think Gary was also trying to find someone to help produce this album, leading him to Ade Fenton, who briefly joined his live band on keyboards and has now been his main producer for the past 15+ years. Ade's production work isn't as prominent here, but there is a greater use of electronics than on Pure throughout. It's a bit more of the same though.

Many tracks blend together in sound and lyrical topics (though the latter is expected if you read my parts on Sacrifice and Exile). Tracks "Halo" and "Haunted" are pretty good, but that's probably because I've heard them live a couple times that I can recall them from those experiences lol. This album feels LONG though. Over an hour for 11 base tracks. The slow pace of most of them doesn't help.

Thankfully, two years later, Jagged Edge released (and thankfully, is available on streaming, unfortunately the original version for comparison isn't) and helps give some tracks a more distinct identity. It's a remix album worked on by a number of people including Fenton and members of Sulpher (who produced Pure) that polishes up some demos and edits of final tracks. There are two discs, but I think the first beats out the second in content. So, kind of like Rush's Vapor Trails.

Dead Son Rising (2011)

An odd release from the past two decades of his work, at least in the sense that it's only about 40 minutes in total when removing the edits of two existing tracks. Some call this an EP, especially for its limited physical release (requiring you to stream or go broke nowadays), but I think this project has the perfect length for an album. Because it doesn't stretch into the hour territory, songs can comfortably last for 3-5 minutes and feel memorable. Unlike Pure and Jagged, I can actually name every track on this album! The lyrical themes are a lot more abstract here too, helping distinct them from 'unfiltered atheism' like his previous few albums.

The production is a lot cleaner, so guitars are less muddy and headache-enducing. "Big Noise Transmission" and "Not the Love We Dream of" are some of my favorites of his career, and I got so hyped when I first heard him play "The Fall" live. Highly recommend this for its modern production and length. Definitely my favorite release of his in the 21st century so far.

Splinter: Songs from a Broken Mind (2013)

An album inspired by recent marital issues and bouts with depression Gary had been dealing with. Thankfully, during the production of this album, things seemed to work themselves out. Songs are often very emotional and slowly build to a powerful climax, utilizing string sections akin to what was present in the late '70s/early '80s for him, just with heavy electric guitars spruced throughout. There are very few up-tempo tracks but "Love Hurt Bleed," a standout that I'm still convinced plays better live than on here. "I Am Dust" is outstanding and the music video for it is probably the only one worth watching out of the rest of his 'videography' (I kid, but most MVs for him are very low-budget and just focus a camera on his face the whole time).

Despite how negative I may sound on here, I do really like this album. It's perhaps just a bit too long and some tracks could have been scrapped and used as B-Sides. I also have a bit more appreciation for the officially-released demos on the Deluxe version that clearly have less of producer Ade Fenton's touch. Feels more dark and gothic than Ade's definition of ""industrial.""

Savage: Songs from a Broken World (2017)

Likely his most accessible modern album, especially for how many new fans it introduced to his work (myself, kinda included, it's complicated). Inspired by a story he supposedly wrote (but for the life of me cannot find a published copy of) about civilization in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, with a heavy emphasis on the Middle Eastern region for aesthetics and compositions. There are more uptempo tracks than on Splinter, but many can still blur together and sound the same, and that's nothing to say about the slower tracks that fit the structure of stuff seen since Jagged.

Gary's vocals are at an all time peak, however, and his own daughter Persia (who helps fit in the regional theme by name alone) adds some additional backing vocals. You can barely tell she's there half the time though, along with Steve Harris or Tim Slade (guitar and bass, respectively), because everything has been post-processed with the same booming, heavy synth sound (supposedly Omnisphere software). It's cool when used sparingly, like on Splinter (even NIN uses a similar sound on The Fragile), but it's too repetitive at times. There aren't really excuses to not diversify the palette even slightly when this album had 4 years in the oven and in the 21st century no less. The Pleasure Principle was made in less than a year in the '70s, so its repetitiveness I feel has its excuses to exist (plus, it still sounds more diverse thanks to the help of the Tubeway Army lineup's bassist and drummer).

Don't want to shit on it too much, it's not a terrible album, but I really wish its success didn't give Gary and Ade Fenton the idea to just keep going in this direction. It's certainly a gateway album for those looking for some heavy electronic rock/metal/industrial, but I feel after listening to the rest of his catalogue this album gets pushed further back in listening preference for me. I've seen many a new fan whose enjoyment of this album just lowers as time goes on too.

Intruder (2021)

At times, diet Savage. I personally find the songs on here much more sonically diverse, but the compositions are very familiar to the past two decades. I'm convinced "Saints and Liars" is just a repackaged "My Name is Ruin" for how similar their chord progressions are. This album was inspired by a poem by his youngest daughter as part of a school assignment that questions the destruction of the environment from the Earth's perspective. Right up my alley, as a tree-hugging freak myself!

As an album released in 2021, there are a couple moments that allude to COVID like on "The Gift," one of the Earth's methods to alarm the population to their actions. It's overall an interesting concept, but it still could have been further fleshed out. The lyrics mostly mirror vague topics and atheism again.

I've seen him live 3 times since its release and I've nevertheless enjoyed every show he's performed. I'm just hoping the future takes a step in a fresher direction, like what Dead Son Rising had going for it.

Conclusion

I can be very critical of Numan's output, especially in recent times, but it is because he is one of my favorite artists that I know can make some amazing and memorable works regardless of who he collaborates with. I wouldn't call him my FAVORITE artist, but my near-religious regimen of listening to him every other day speaks otherwise. Perhaps it is a form of Stockholm Syndrome because I am too deep into the pipeline at this point. I'll shamefully call myself a Numanoid, I collect too much of his shit to be considered anything else.

He's a very open person with official released interviews available from even extremely early on in his career. We know his story better than many, so it's a bit of a shame when some, including himself, overlook certain aspects of his history and the context behind it in order to glorify certain aspects (such as in the case of M+S's reputation). Then again, I can't claim to be a scholar as I have yet to listen to EVERY interview that's easily available. There's definitely gaps I'm missing or have been misinformed on as well.

In my honest opinion, I really do not have high hopes for the rest of this decade of output as long as he sticks with Ade Fenton. Even his oldest daughter is looking to make a break in the industry and he is producing her album (and is a bit too close to her in pictures... That's like at least 20y in age difference...). He's a perfectly competent producer, better than anything I can do, but he has so little diversity in his sound choices and I feel Gary's (and potentially Raven's) sound has suffered as a result. Gary has had an issue with a lack of experimentation too, his lenience is why Ade can continue what he does, but as much as I didn't care for Sulpher, they were at least providing something a bit less samey when it came to Pure and Jagged Edge. That's why I'm afraid of the Sacrifice, Exile, and Pure remakes due to release some time this decade. They deserve better production, yes, but their charm will undoubtedly be lost in translation.

All I can do is stay positive, however, and continue supporting his efforts until I can obviously tell he's running out of steam and wants to retire. I doubt that though, he's got too much energy and flexibility for his age.

Anyways.

How original, a tier list. Here are my objective facts, not opinions /s.

This is not concrete, but about the same as it's been whenever I've made it other years. Savage has only moved down while M+S has moved up though, lol. Maybe one day it will usurp it, you never know.

#gary numan #album review #retrospective #music #choppost

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