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moonculus · 3 years

Text

terrible things ~ wilbur x reader

angst

warnings: death, weapons, kissing (all non-descriptive)

pronouns: implied she/her

notes: inspired by the song, terrible things by mayday parade. i apologize in advance <3

☾　‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙　☽

that’s when i met your father, the boy of my dreams. the most beautiful man that i’d ever seen.

“mommy?”

you looked away from your coffee cup to meet your child’s bright eyes staring back at you.

“yes, honey?” you asked, smiling softly.

“what happened to my father?”

immediately, you felt your heart tighten. you had put off talking about your husband for as long as you possibly could. phil, techno, even tommy. everyone who cared for you worried about you. you had thrown yourself into caring for your child, barely even giving yourself time to feel.

“when you’re older, baby,” you tilted your head sympathetically.

the daughter clung to your leg, pouting up at you with puppy eyes. the same her father would make whenever he wanted a hug or kiss from you. you were never the disciplinarian. to be honest, neither of you were. you hoisted your daughter onto your lap, preparing yourself emotionally.

“well, since i was your age, i was convinced i would be a leader. no one could ever tell me i needed a husband, i thought boys were frivolous. while my friends would talk about crushes and cooties, i would talk about sword skills and the inner workings of our country. i never thought i’d need anyone. until i met your father…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you swung your wooden makeshift sword at a tree, grunting as it was stuck in the bark. you pulled at the handle, kicked at the stump, and eventually plopped down in the grass beside it, frustratedly.

“need some help?” a soft voice asked you.

a small boy your age crooked glasses and a yellow sweater he seemed to be quickly outgrowing.

“no. i can do it myself,” you huffed, brushing yourself off and attempting to pull the sword out again.

“my dad says it’s always best to accept help, even if you think you don’t deserve it.”

“my dad used to say if you can’t do things on your own, you shouldn’t do them at all.”

“your dad’s wrong,” the boy shrugged, leaning against the tree.

“do you mind?”

“i’m wilbur,” he grinned, sticking his hand out for you.

“i’m tired of this,” you folded your arms against your chest.

“well, tired of this. do you want to be friends?”

“my dad said friends make you weak,” you muttered, shifting from foot to foot.

“your dad’s wrong,” he repeated, smiling. “anyways. sometimes, everyone needs a knight in shining armor.”

with a swift hit to the handle in exactly the right place, the sword fell to the grass. your chest rose and fell as you glared at the weapon.

“thank you,” you mumbled.

“i’ll take a friendship as an apology.”

you rolled your eyes at him, a smile threatening to cross your face.

“fine.”

wilbur’s face lit up with a toothy smile.

“but,” you began, pointing a finger at him. “only because i owe you.”

“oh, of course,” he nodded, stifling a grin.

“y/n. my name. i’m y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated. “i like it. i’ll see you around, y/n.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“and then what happened?”

your curious daughter that had been squirming in your lap, now settled, relaxing in your arms.

“well, a few years passed, and we became practically attached at the hip. inseparable…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i can tell by your eyes that you’re in love with me

“stay together- be safe!” phil called after the two of you, as if you would’ve gladly left the other alone.

“we will!” you chorused, already bolting away.

the once short and underdeveloped boy had grown into a lanky, somewhat scrawny teenager. stretch marks dotted his knees from an unexpected growth spurt at twelve. he had long since ditched his glasses, claiming that he was too mature for his crooked lenses. suspiciously, he had adopted the spectacles back once he had overheard a conversation between niki and yourself in which you told her you thought boys with glasses were cute.

the two of you flopped onto your backs at the same willow tree you had first met. it had become a memorial of the start of your friendship, a place you visited often.

clouds drifted through the sky, the both of you pointing out ones that looked like ducks and cats.

“d’ya ever think about your future?” wilbur asked you out of the blue.

“yeah. i’m gonna be a ruler. you can be one of my royal consorts,” you shrugged.

“what’s a consort?”

“i dunno, i heard my mom use it once. i suppose it’s like an advisor of some kind. you’re my second in command!”

“well, i’m fine being your second. as long as you don’t let it go to your head,” he nudged you, smiling.

you rolled your head to the side, meeting gazes with wil. his eyes searched your face, and for a second you were confused. you had barely even acknowledged the thought of crushes- you didn’t know what they felt like. later on, you could assume it felt a little like this.

the two of you leaned in, connecting your lips gently. neither of you had any clue what you were doing, it was both of your first kisses. as soon as it began, you pulled away. you didn’t miss the blush creeping into wilbur’s cheeks, just as he didn’t miss the smile you tried to hide behind your hand.

“i- crap. i li-“ wil stammered.

“i know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ew, cooties!”

“you’re right, cooties. that’s why you never kiss boys,” you pointed at your daughter.

“anyways, we loved each other. we had since the day we met, just were too young to know it…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

im asking you, please. you know that i love you, will you marry me?

“gods, you look beautiful, honey,” niki cooed as she placed flowers behind your ears.

“you think so?”

“i know so! wil is going to be speechless.”

“we haven’t been out for weeks, with all of the battle preparations,” you sighed, placing your face in your hand.

“don’t remind me. there you are, perfect!” niki smiled, squeezing your shoulders gently.

“thank you so much, i owe you.”

“oh, hush. you owe me nothing,” she dismissed. “now, hurry! he’s waiting.”

there was a calm breeze as you walked to your willow tree. the air smelled floral and familiar, like it was curated just for you. you heard the soft strum of a guitar, and your steps quickened.

a grin plastered itself across your face as you saw your love, surrounded by blue petals and lanterns, plucking the strings of his instrument. it was a scene out of a movie as you took a seat in front of him. he smiled at you softly, not speaking until the melody finished.

“i love you,” he began, clasping his hands around your own. “i have loved you since i’ve known you. you are my muse, my meaning. without you, i’d perish beyond means. i promise i’ll care for you when you’re sick, when you take up half of the bed, when you insist on midnight walks- i’ll take it all.”

by now, tears of happiness were falling down your face, you practically already nodding.

“y/n y/l/n,” he started, pulling out a dark ring.

you interrupted him, throwing your arms around his neck and all but tackling him to the ground.

“will- you- marry- me-“ he laughed in between kisses. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

“yes, yes. of course it’s a yes, you idiot. i love you,” you smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“but if you lived happily ever after, where’s dad?”

again, your heart felt pained. your eyes filled with tears as you squeezed your daughter’s hand.

“sometimes, it was just never meant to be…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

please don’t be sad now, i really believe, you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

you were married as soon as possible, only your close friends and family invited to the wedding at the willow tree. a few months later, you were expecting. once you told wilbur, he was ecstatic. your family was growing. alas, the past few weeks had been strained. wil had grown further apart from you, feeling as if he were worlds away while he laid next to you. it all became clear, all the pieces clicking once the three of you stood in the final control room.

“wil, please. you’re going to have a child- you have me! you can’t do this, think of everyone,” you pleaded as phil held your arm.

“i’m sorry, my love. truly. i wish there were another way. i will never stop loving you. never,” he smiled sadly, his fingers dancing across the button that would annihilate your entire nation.

“it was never meant to be.”

phil held you close as you sobbed, his shouts at his son drowned out by the sounds of explosions. once the dust settled, you saw your boy, the same one who had always had the brightest eyes, dull and lifeless as he stared at you.

“i love you,” he mouthed as he nodded at phil.

you didn’t quite understand what was happening, not until it happened. your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your screams as the man’s blade plunged itself into it’s target. you scrambled to your lover, his soul already left his body. you cradled him in your arms as long as you could before his father had to carry you away from him.

from that day forward, you pledged to throw everything you could into daughter- the legacy of your late husband. you swore you’d never leave her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

don’t let it get you, i can’t bare to see the same happen to you.

“he’s gone?” she breathed out, tears falling down her little face.

“yes,” you sniffled, failing to hold back your own tears. “yes, he’s gone. but he loved us very much, even if he never got to meet you.”

your daughter clung to your shirt, not fully understanding everything. you would explain to her later more in depth, when she was old enough to understand.

“you were his unfinished symphony. his little melody,” you smiled down at her.

melody would learn to understand her father through stories from you, her uncles, and her grandfather. the two of you continued to visit his final resting place- the willow tree you had buried him at. for a while, it had only reminded you of misery, memories you’d never get to relive. but, ever since melody had been born, the tree was rejuvenated. it even seemed to sway as if it were listening when you spoke.

your wilbur, his love, and your baby, melody.

your symphony.

☾　‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙　☽

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