#i realise i could be spelling brooch wrong

[fazcinatingblog]

No YOU'RE deciding at 10pm on a Monday night which Italian brooch to get

Also is it pronounced brooch (rhyming with hooch), or "broach" (rhyming with cockroach)

[artzee-bee]

End of all things [2] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: MIraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/ Chat Noir)

Request:”Hello good evening, could you please do where a witch!Reader who always tries to comfort Chat/Adrian when he is feeling down. Cuz you know in season 4 I noticed he’s getting sadder and sadder. The reader doesn’t like to get involved in all these weird happenings and just lay low. Whenever Chat/Adrian comes to the reader’s house they always make him feel at home. That's when things go off, at the final battle where Hawkmoth got the Miraculouses and the heroes thought they would lose. (Y/n) just landed in front of them looking so done with Hawkmoth.Hawkmoth thinks that (y/n) was just a weakling, but he was wrong. (Y/n) is far stronger than Hawkmoth even he will use the all Miraculouses he’ll still lose.”

Genre: Angst

Warnings: canon typical violence

A/N: It is incredibly late right now, I hope this piece makes sense and that you like it! It was a cool request, but complicated for sure :))

Part 1

~~~

You could have sworn that time stopped altogether at that moment. Somehow, even though the disappointment of having lost and the worry you felt for your best friend, you found a little power to look at Hawkmoth. You expected him to be joyful, restless! You expected him to have already put on both the miraculouses and yet, they were resting in his palm. His eyes weren’t even on them.

“Adrien?” he looked at the broken boy on the ground

“We’re not over yet!” he yelled, running towards Hawkmoth as fast as he could, but it didn’t matter how much will to fight he had anymore! Adrien’s body was going numb. It was giving up on him. And Hawkmoth was gaining more power and energy with every second that went by. The villain grabbed the boy by the shoulder, immobilizing him to his chest, the same way you had done with Marinette

“You are weak and powerless without your ring, boy. Stop it at once!”

“No!” the desperation in his voice made your heart crumble

You felt Marinette stir in your hold. You knew she must have been awake and watching by now, but you didn’t let go. You had been unable to protect Chat from losing his powers, from wasting his energy by squirming in the arms of the enemy. You’ll be damned if you let anything happen to Ladybug now! Because even if this was the end, even if they’d never get their powers back, Marinette and Adrien will always be Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

Tears fell from your face as you watched your friend kick and scream in fear and frustration. His hair was sticking to his forehead with beads of sweat

You weren’t sure what you could read within Hawkmoth’s facial expression, but you could tell it wasn’t the confidence from a minute ago. Neither the focus. You could still do something! Under your breath, you began to mutter a chant. You had never tried this specific spell before, but there was nothing left to lose. It was supposed to attract an object of your choosing, to you. Focusing on the image of the miraculouses, held captive in Hawkmoth’s iron grip, you prayed it’d work.

“I don’t want to have to kill you Adrien!” finally, the boy managed to escape and take a few steps back

“What do you care? Just a moment ago you would have done anything it took to get rid of me and Marinette!” 

Hawkmoth turned around to face you almost instantly, noticing the movement of your lips. 

“Stop that!”

You saw his fist tighten and shake slightly. His fear was all the motivation you needed! Your chants grew louder and louder, more confident and powerful. Hawkmoth placed both his hands around the jewelry in an attempt to prevent it from reaching you. Finally, there was a chance you could still win this!

And then there was a hand on your mouth.

And a kick on the inside of your knee.

You fell to the ground in pain, as the person behind you pushed you harder against the concrete. Right then, was the first time you heard Marinette say anything that day. 

“Rena?” her voice broken with despair

“I've never akumatized a hero before” you heard Hawkmoth’s taunting laugh “Can you imagine the possibilities Y/N?”

Tears were brimming in your eyes. Rena was forcing you to the ground with all her force. You heard Adrien call out your name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You had to find a way out of this but exhaustion was catching up to you quickly. You weren’t used to fights! You weren’t used to such powerful spells within such a short period of time!

With all the strength in your body, you focused again on an imaginary spot, in the middle of it all. You closed your eyes and imagined the ball of energy growing bigger and bigger, somewhere between you and Hawkmoth. Winds picked up speed around you. You opened your eyes slightly, and all you could see was Marinette’s horrified look, but you didn’t care. Not anymore. As long as you were still conscious, the fight would go on. The ball of energy went off again, creating the same bomb effect as in the beginning of the fight. Rena flew off of you, allowing you to move just in time to see Hawkmoth fly into a tree, and drop not only the black cat and ladybug miraculouses, but the butterfly one as well.

It seemed like the magic brooch had come undone from the impact. All 3 jewels fell to the ground and Hawkmoth was swallowed by a purple light. As the detransformation came to an end, all that was left was an unconscious Gabriel Agreste

“Dad?” Adrien’s voice felt like a punch in the heart. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. His eyes turned almost red and he took off running after his father, but you were faster and caught up to him before he could reach Gabriel. You tackled him to the ground to prevent him from waking up the villain and possibly causing more chaos.

“Wait, Adrien, we need the miraculouses!”

“No, what I need is to talk to my DAD!”

“Adrien please!” you could barely manage to keep him from squirming underneath you

“Of course” Marinette replied slowly before holding out her hand. You let go of Adrien, but he didn’t get up. He just placed his right hand on top of Marinette’s, as she carefully slipped the ring on his finger, back where it belonged. 

You heard rapid footsteps come your way and saw Marinette run towards the miraculouses, picking all of them in her hand and hugging them to her chest.You couldn’t even imagine the relief she must have felt! She looked like finally, everything in the world was right again. It gave you hope! Adrien visibly relaxed as he watched her too.

“Can I have Plagg back?” he sobbed

Plagg flew out, looking sacred and in distress, but he tried to smile for his boy.

“I’m sorry Plagg.'' the kwami didn’t say anything, choosing instead to nuzzle himself in the crook of Adrien’s neck, in a hug. The boy placed his hand on top of him and began to sob quietly. Your heart sank at the sight and you couldn’t help but let yourself fall on top of Adrien again and wrapping him in another hug. You could hear every beat of his heart and every sorrowful tear rolling down his cheeks. The noise was so loud, you almost didn’t hear Marinette transform back into her heroine self.

You opened your eyes to see her tying up Gabriel, alongside Rena. She gave you a nod, letting you know they got it from here.

“Adrien?” Gabriel whispered slowly. It seemed like he had finally woken up. The boy beneath you slowly raised his head to meet the glance of his dad. Immediately, he pushed you off in order to run to him

“Father. It’s ok! It’s gonna be ok! It’s a misunderstanding, isn’t it?” Adrien ran to him, hopefulness in his voice like he didn’t know he was merely kidding himself

“I did it for a good cause Adrien…”

“No...you didn’t” he insisted

“One day you’ll understand”

Adrien stepped away from the weak body of his father, suddenly horrified at the realisation that Hawkmoth was, indeed, no one other than his own dad. He turned around to see you and Plagg still on the ground where he left you. Tears were quickly making their way back into his eyes as he rushed to you, throwing himself into your open arms. Ladybug picked Gabriel up, and dragged him away, with Rena right on her tail.

Adrien’s cries were muffled by your hair, but his words were still audible, at least to you

“He was my father! All this time”

“I failed everyone”

“No you didn’t Adrien”

“You didn’t know”

“I let myself be vulnerable and gave him the opportunity to take away my miraculous! I could have lost Plagg forever! I let Ladybug down! She lost her earrings and got akumatized and I couldn’t do anything about it!”

“Stop Adrien. It’s ok. It’s all gonna be ok” you tightened your grip around his body “eventually…”

[nyx-aira]

Hi! I was thinking of a young Agatha Harkness x reader fic//one shot where after her fight with the coven, Agatha finds a cottage in the woods to wait out the aftermath, but it turns out reader lives there? I love your work btw!

End my suffering

Requested by @booklovinbi and @midnight-lestrange

Request #2: Hey, can you please do where y/n has kinda the same powers as Wanda, but her color is blue, and she has a fight with Agatha (for who she has feelings, because they were getting close/same for Agatha) During the fight y/n loses and maybe gets seriously injured and waits Agatha to kill her, but instead Agatha kneels and carry her back home, where she takes care of y/n. In the end Agatha kisses y/n and then Agatha is ready to leave but y/n takes her hand and pulls closer for the kiss. Could you write it?

Summary: Agatha is accused of breaking the rules of the coven. As things spiral out of control she injures you badly. What is she going to do now?

A/N: I mixed your requests, I hope that was alright. I didn't follow them exactly but I still hope you like them. Also thank you so much for 200 followers guys, you're amazing.

TW!: Angst, mention of violence, brief mention of blood, brief description of injuries (let me know if I need to add anything)

Tag list: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @king-star @ynscrazylife @booklovinbi @mysticfalls01 @adorkwithaplan

The coven had been your home as long as you could remember, growing up there and learning magic as the town folk had cast you out after they killed your mother, falsely accused of witchcraft, it was quite ironic if you thought about it, sending the one away that was actually a witch. You owed the coven your life and you were endlessly grateful for that, loyal until death.

That's why you didn't question it when you were told to meet up by the waterfalls at midnight. Waiting with your sisters you heard her before you could even see her, pleading with the witches dragging her through the forest, fear clearly visible on her face, Agatha. She was brought onto the platform and bound to the stake, magic bonds restricting her movements. Struggling she looked around, scared, terrified. You hid your face under your hood, averting your gaze, you didn't like this but you had faith in the head witch, believing there must be a good reason for this.

And so the trial began.

"Agatha Harkness, are you a witch"

"Yes I am a witch."

She still struggled against her bonds, fear visible on her face but there was something in her voice, something that made your skin crawl and hands shake.

"Yet you have betrayed your coven."

You gasped at that, growing angry, how dare she betrayed your sisterhood. Revealing yourselves you caught her gaze, shock and hurt crossing her features as she recognised you but you only sent her an icy glare.

"I have not."

"You stole knowledge above your age and station, you practiced the darkest of magic."

"I know..I know nothing of these crimes."

She was becoming desperate, you could hear it in her voice, pleading with the head witch for her to believe her.

"I..I swear it."

"Enough deception!"

At these words Agathas demeanour changed, she stopped struggling against her bonds, straightening up to her full height, all the fear gone from her face, replaced with something you could only identify as pride.

"I did not break your rules. They simply bent to my power."

At this she smirked, watching with delight as the faces of your sisters fell in shock, bathing in the feeling of recognition and fear. You stared at her, unbelieving of what she just said. You knew Agatha, you knew her very well, she was power-hungry and malicious but you could have never fathomed that she'd ever do something like this. Seeing your shocked expression she straightened up a little bit more, the mischievous glint in her eyes glowing brighter.

With a nod of the head witch your sisters began chanting, slowly at first, growing louder every second.

Agathas confident smirk vanished at that, getting replaced by tremendous fear as she realised what was about to happen.

"Wait.."

Her pleas were ignored as they continued the chant. Feeling the familiar rush of magic surge through your body you focused on the task at hand, ignoring the little voice in your head that told you to stop, not wanting Agatha to get hurt.

"No. I can’t control it! I..."

The chanting grew louder, drowning out the desperate cries of the chained witch.

"If only you would teach me! Help me! Please!"

Agatha tried to catch your eyes, you could feel her staring at you, her desperate cries making your heart clench in doubt, a single tear running down your face. Your feelings threatening to break your concentration you pushed them away, ignoring the pain it brought you.

"Mother, please."

You looked up at these words. Mother. You didn't know that. Hadn't been aware that Agatha was the daughter of the head witch. Dread started to settle in the pit of your stomach, you knew how this was gonna end and you found it hard enough already to even think about it. But Agatha was her daughter....

"Please! Mother!"

Ignoring the desperate cries of her daughter the head witch join in the chant. Horror manifested on Agathas face, screaming for help, pleading, but nobody listened to her. It dawned to her that this was the end, she was gonna die.

"No!"

A guttural scream tore itself from her body as she was blasted with the spell. Screaming her lungs out, her cries so loud they must be heard from miles away, her body shaking under the force of the energy, knees buckling, only the chains holding her in place.

Tears streaming down your face as you continued to focus your energy on the screaming witch, the sounds of her agony making you sick, you never wanted this. But your loyalty was to the coven, no matter how hard it made your heart ache and break in two.

You realised something was wrong when you saw the frightened look on her mother's face.

Agatha grunted, her pained screams turning into something else, the blue energy turning purple, capturing you and your sisters, holding you in place. Agatha looked around, seemingly surprised at the new development, her face changing from agony into something more sinister, something more Agatha.

You felt her magic hit you as you screamed out in pain, falling to the ground, ending the chant in an instant. You robbed away on your knees, coughing and panting, your whole body felt like it was burning and you had trouble breathing, everything becoming a blurry mess.

You couldn't see what was happening but judging by the pained screams of your sisters and the dark magic in the air it wasn't good. You groaned, getting up to your knees, a scream getting stuck in your throat when you looked into the dead face of one of your sisters, her lifeless corpse laying in front of you. Scared you looked around to see all of them dead, turned into corpses, no more than rotten flesh and bones.

Your head whipped around when you heard another scream. Looking at the scene that played in front of you, you saw mother and daughter facing each other.

Agatha was getting burned by her own mother. The head witch flying high in the air, focusing all of her energy on Agatha, trying to kill her. But it wasn't working, the blue energy turned purple, the head witch grunting as she started to crumble, turning older until her corpse hit the floor, the lifeless body dropping down not far from you.

You watched as Agatha looked at her hands, seemingly surprised by the sheer power of her magic. Shrugging it of she grasped the end of her dress as she ascended the stairs of the podium, looking like the dark goddess she was.

You held your breath as she crouched down in front of her mother, taking the brooch from her neck and pocketing it. She got up to leave when she caught a glimpse of you, still moving, alive. Her face darkening she marched towards you, hands igniting with purple magic, eyes pitch black and full of hatred, she was angry.

Your eyes widened in horror as she stalked towards you, frantically trying to get up. Your head was pounding, everything was spinning and you just felt sick. You're whole body burning like it was on fire but at the same time shivers rocked your limbs, making it impossible to move, not taking your trobbing leg and hurting ribs into consideration. It was quite possible that you had broken a couple of bones when you were slammed against the tree. Your head was starting to ring as you tried to stay conscious, the pain intensifying, you felt like you were burning on the inside, your body aflame.

In an weak attempt to protect yourself you tried to bring up an energy field, a spike of agony shooting through you as you tried. It felt like you were being ripped apart, your magic attacking you, hurting you. A feral scream tore itself from your throat, tears blurring your vision even more, feeling something drip down your nose you realised it was blood. The torturous sensation continued to move through your body, stealing your breath, making you feel like your organs were torn apart.

Black spots started to appear on your vision and you dug your nails into your thighs, trying to stay awake, trying to distract yourself from the hell you were going through. It wasn't working, the pain becoming too much you let out another strangled gasp, forcing some air into your lungs, everything was on fire, your body burning from within.

You didn't realised you were crying, tears mixing with the blood on your face, you couldn't take it anymore.

You heard footsteps move in your direction. In your pained agony you somehow managed to open your eyes, recognising the familiar silhouette of Agatha and her purple magic.

You stared at her for a long time, laying bloodied and bruised on the ground, dying. You took all of your strength to say the next words, feeling like knives slit your throat as you did.

"Please...just end my suffering..please.."

You pleaded with the other witch, your voice nothing more than a whisper, bringing you immense pain just from speaking. You wanted it to end, you couldn't take it anymore. Waiting for Agatha to bring you mercy you didn't realise she was crying, crouching in front of your broken body, not knowing what to do.

She had hurt you, she had done this to you, it dawned to her. Horror prominent on her face, this was her doing. Agatha let out a wrenched sob, clutching her chest, this was her fault, she had hurt you, had cursed you.

And now you were so scared of her that you were pleading with her to kill you, seeing it as the only option.

In your fragile state you realised that she was moving towards you, expecting the final blow you shut your eyes, praying that your pain would end.

Instead you felt gentle fingers on your forehead, soothing your pain and caressing your face. You instinctively leaned into the touch, seeking the feeling of calmness and peace that emitted from Agatha. She carefully turned you around, pulling your head in her lap, laying her hands on your chest she began chanting a spell you weren't familiar with, purple glow surrounding both of you, a familiar feeling surging through your body. The pain became less prominent, the feeling of burning up inside turning more into a fever than actually hurting you. Your head cleared up as well, still fuzzy but you could form a coherent thought again without screaming in agony.

After what seemed like an eternity the purple glow faded, leaving you exhausted, tired and still in a lot of pain, groaning as you felt your definitely broken ribs.

Agatha laid a soothing hand on your cheek, whispering comforting words as she shifted her position, a jolt of pain moving through your body at that. She apologised immediately and in your hallucinating state you could have sworn she pressed a short kiss on your cheek.

Gently hoisting you up she picked you up bridal style, whining at the movement your head lolled to the side, burying it in her neck.

The last thing you remembered was Agatha tightening her hold on you and the rush of wind, then everything went black pulling you into blissful nothingness.

When you woke up everything hurt, your head was ringing, your chest was hurting and you were sore, everywhere. You groaned, trying to sit up but a gentle hand pressed you back down, the scent of lavender and magnolia hitting your nose. You abruptly open your eyes, staring at Agatha who sat perched on the edge of your bed, still holding your hand, a concerned look on her face. You looked up at her in panic and saw silent tears running down her cheeks, her lip quivering.

"I'm so sorry angel."

You wanted to answer her but your voice was raspy and it just hurt using it, in fact everything hurt, making you feel tired and exhausted.

Agatha passed you a glass of water, gently holding your head as you greedily gulped down the liquid, spilling a little bit on the covers. She placed the glass back on the nightstand and checked your head for your fever, sighing in relief as it had gone down significantly the last couple hours.

Starting to shift in bed you let out a horrified gasp as you saw your body. You were only wearing a long linen top and the sight that greeted you was horrifying. Your whole torso was covered in cuts and bruised, bandages wrapped around your chest and left leg, your skin a mix between blues and purples.

"I tried to heal as much damage as I could, love, you have to believe me but even my magic has its limits, I'm so so sorry."

You could hear the sadness in her voice, the guilt and the pain at seeing you like that. Agatha was devastated and she didn't try to hide it.

The next days passed in a similar manner. Agatha taking care of you, making you food, reminding you to drink and changing your bandages. You still didn't know where you were or how exactly you got there but as you could barely move from the bed you decided that answering these questions could wait.

You were still very weak, dizzy spells hitting you out of nowhere and your limbs still sore. You were tired all the time, spending most of the day either sleeping or somewhere between conscious and the alluring darkness that sometimes threatened to overcome you.

Agatha was at your side most of the time, not comfortable with leaving you alone since you had passed out on day three, giving her a major scare. She would often sit by your side, reading some kind of spell book or practicing some easy spells. Her presence had a calming effect on you, her magic pulsing through the air and sparks of it landing on your skin. It felt different than before, darker, more powerful but not with an ill intent behind it. It was more of an old friend, welcome you back, it was alive and dangerous and you found yourself more often than not captivated by the powerful witch next to you, weaving spells through the air, her dark magic singing to you.

Your magic had changed as well, what had been blue energy before was now orange with a hint of pink. You didn't understand it, neither did Agatha but something had happened, something had changed inside of you, inside both of you and it was showing.

It was another stormy afternoon, rain hitting the windows and wind howling outside. You were feeling better now, able to walk around the cabin which was located in a part of the forest you've never been before. You're broken bones had been healed completely, curtsey of Agatha who had been going through all the spell books available to find the right healing potion. The dizzy spells were gone as well but the darkness lurking in the corner of your mind, luring you to follow it was still there, still prominent and it was tempting. Your magic did not return to its original colour, it also changed in its appearance, more of glowing whisps than the crackling blue energy it was before. You also felt different, more aware, more awake and most importantly, you could feel Agatha. Her emotions and feelings, tickling the corners of your mind. She was a mess. Guilt and sadness still dominant, feeling responsible for you. There was also something else, something you couldn't decipher but it left you feeling lighthearted and giddy.

You were sitting by the window seat reading one of Agatha’s spell books, more complicated than any spell book the coven had ever allowed you to read, you found out that you liked Agatha’s method of learning way better. Trying out a new spell the coral mist weaved around your hands, turning into an energy ball and then back into the unassuming whisps that always followed you around. You couldn't stop it and Agatha didn’t know why either. You figured you didn't mind, it was as if your magic was protecting you, always following you around if the need to defend yourself should arise. Putting the book back on the shelf you looked around your little cabin, it had become your home in the last few weeks, deeply hidden in the forest, surrounded by so many protecting spells you had lost count. You liked it here, the quiet of the forest and the closeness to nature, it was peaceful.

Agatha was out collecting some herbs and flowers, you had offered to go with her but she was still fussing over you, always making sure you were okay, having her hands on your body in any way, shape or form. Holding your hand while you were sitting together and reading, sitting close to you when you were having lunch, her leg brushing up against yours, an arm around you if you were taking a small walk, almost as if she'd expect you to fade out of existence this very moment. You didn't mind if you were being honest, you liked the way she cared about you, like she genuinely cared for you. It made you feel all fluttery and giddy but you dismissed the feeling as just being happy you weren't alone.

Roaming around the cabin you searched for something to pass the time as you waited for Agatha to return. Settling for reading some poetry you walked back to the window seat, tucking your feet unter your body you started reading, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the windows as the rain started to get heavier.

You didn't hear the door open or Agatha stepping inside, too focused on your poems. That's why you let out a shrill shriek as you felt her cold hands on your neck. You whipped your head around to see her smiling down at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You both started laughing and had to take a moment to calm down again.

Wiping tears out of your eyes you looked at her, the rain had made her hair somewhat curly, a rosy tint to her cheeks from the cold outside, her hooded cape hiding most of her dress and corset. You found yourself lost in her baby blue eyes, the colour reminding you of the stormy sea and the rainy sky, you were mesmerised by her beauty. Shaking your head you came back to reality, Agatha looking at you with the same look she had on her face every time she looked at you. There was this feeling again, the feeling you couldn't decipher, not even with your newfound powers.

"What are we making for dinner today?"

Your voice seemed to snap her out of her thoughts and she took of her cape, placing the basket with flowers and herbs on the counter. She had also brought some vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin. You've always had a green thumb and magic didn't limit you to seasonal vegetables and berries which was useful if you were living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Walking over to the fireplace you looked at what you had to work with, Agatha stepping right behind you, her hand draped around your waist.

"See something you can work with hun?"

The nickname made you blush as you sorted through your ingredients, seemed like today's dinner was gonna be vegetable soup and some of the bread you had made a couple days ago.

While Agatha was magically cutting vegetables you were hearing the fireplace, lighting it with a flick of your hand, the coral mist protecting your hands from the orange flames. Preparing dinner together you and Agatha whirled around the kitchen, the other witch always touching you in some way, whether that was her just "passing by" or needing something from behind you, brushing your hand when she passed you something. Her actions made you smile, the fluttery feeling returning to your stomach and you couldn't brush it of as easy anymore.

As you waited for the soup to finish you cleaned up the kitchen and Agatha set the table, moving plates and glasses through the air, the familiar feeling of her magic present. You felt two arms wrap around you waist and you gasped in surprise as you felt her warm body pressed against your.

"Take a seat dear, I'll handle the rest."

Ignoring your protests she stirred you to the table, pulling out a chair for you and making you sit down. She squeezed your hand and gave you a short kiss on the head, rubbing your arm as she continued to clean the kitchen, making a show out of it to make you laugh.

You were wheezing from her dance number with the broom, Agatha dramatically giving a bow in your direction and shooting you a not so subtle wink.

She brought over the tray with the soup and bread, the tray floating besides her as she gracefully took a seat, placing down the food in front of you.

She was telling you about her walk in the woods, how she had seen a baby fox and the beautiful flowers she found near a cliff. You were mesmerised by her voice, wanting to listen to her for hours, just hearing her talk made you feel at peace. Made you feel at home.

As the sun set the two of you moved to the living room, cuddling close to each other as the cold of the night started to set in. You both had your magic to keep you warm but this didn't stop you from laying your head on Agatha’s shoulder, shuffling closer to her side as she began to read out of your poetry book you had spent the afternoon with.

You felt yourself getting tired as she continued to read, burying your face in the crook of her neck, her fingers absently stroking your hair as she recited old poems about love and passion.

Agatha smiled down on your sleeping form as she put the book away, careful not to wake you. She looked at your relaxed face, a little smile on your lips. You were beautiful. She had always thought you were but with her strict mother and the coven she had always pushed these feelings aside, having had more important matters at hand. But now, now there was no denying that she had fallen for you, had fallen for you a long time ago. The last couple of weeks had shown her that, she loved waking up to you bustling around the cabin, always finding new things to do. She realised that she never wanted to live without you ever again. The reason why you were here reminding her that her perfect little world could easily be crushed. The images of you laying on the forest floor still haunting her dreams sometimes, making her want to climb into your bed and hold you close, never ever letting you go. She had sworn herself that she would protect you, no matter what she had to sacrifice for it.

Gently getting up from the couch she picked you up, carrying you to your shared room, carefully placing you on your bed, tucking you under the covers she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Getting up to go to her own bed she felt your hand grasp hers, looking at you she saw you half asleep looking up at her with a loving smile on your face.

"Stay please."

Your request caught her off guard but she quickly caught herself as she climbed under the covers, you body cuddling close to her the minute she did. Wrapping her arms around you she pulled you closer, savouring the feeling of your body so close to her. She felt you bury your head in her chest, mumbling something that sounded an awful lot like I love you, her heart starting to pound faster at these words. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ears she closed her eyes, feeling happy and content as you fell asleep in her arms.

"I love you too angel, I love you too."

You woke to the sun shining through the window, grumbling you flicked your hand to draw the curtains when you heard a slight chuckle from behind you. Agatha. You remembered last night, how you had asked her to stay and how good it had felt to fall asleep in her arms, giving you the feeling of safety and home. You turned around to see her proped up on her elbow, a beautiful smile visible on her face.

"Good morning sweetheart."

"Have you been watching me all this time?"

Her cheeks started to turn a scarlet hue at your question. She nervously looked down at her hands, playing with little whisps of her magic.

"I didn't had the heart to wake you, you were sleeping so peacefully dear."

Now it was your turn to blush, your cheeks turning the colour of your magic that always surrounded you. It wavered around your hands, like the fog that surrounded your cabin in the mornings.

You looked at Agatha, messy hair framing her face, piercing blue eyes staring at you as if you were the single most important thing in the world, purple magic swirling around her hands. She looked like a goddess.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a hand caressing your face, you looked up to see Agatha hovering over your body, holding your hand, your faces so close you could feel her hot breath. You gave a her a short nod and at that she closed the gap in between the two of you.

Your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, her body flush on your. This kiss was everything you dreamed it would be and so much more. You felt like your nerves were on fire, the only thing you could feel was Agatha and her magic. It curled around you, making your skin tingle and cheeks flush, melting together with your own magic, intensifying the experience. You felt Agatha deepen the kiss and you let her, pouring all your emotions into it, never wanting it to end. You could feel every single emotion of the witch on top of you, happiness, adoration, joy, passion and love, so much love. You could feel her, feel her soul spark with joy as she finally had found you, finally had found the missing piece, her other half, her soulmate.

When you broke apart the room was basked in purple and coral light, your magic swirling around the room, connected with each other. You looked at Agatha who had a loving smile on her face. She pulled you up and you were basically pulled into her lap. Cradling your face you could see some tears in the corner of her eyes. Wiping them away she speaks, her voice not more than a whisper.

"Please tell me this is not a dream."

You shake your head and take her hands in yours, absently drawing small circles on them.

"No definitely not a dream."

At this Agatha smiles, crushing her lips on yours for another passionate kiss.

You knew the future wasn't gonna be easy but together you were unstoppable.

You had found your missing half, your soulmate.

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @aubsenroute, @ccboomer, @somebodyswatson

Chapter Eighteen Privet Drive

Harry couldn’t bring himself to sleep in a bed. Though he was grateful for the house, he felt uncomfortable, like he was intruding on someone else’s privacy. He supposed there was some truth to that feeling.

On his first night in Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry had carefully checked every room to confirm that the house was empty. He found no sign of life except the occasional spider scurrying for cover under the rug. Once he was sure that he was alone, he used one of the spells in his Defense Against the Dark Arts books to Charm all the windows with Breach Brooches. He didn’t know why the book said brooches made the best vessel for the spell, but he raided his Aunt Petunia’s jewelry collection for brooches and pins. She hadn’t had enough for every window, but there were a few earrings and, structurally, how different was a brooch from an earring? He hoped it would be enough.

Once each window was protected, he closed off the rooms and sealed the doors with Proximity Peals, just in case. Since then, the only parts of the house Harry had entered were the downstairs bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room.

He always slept behind the sofa, so that if someone did enter in the middle of the night, he had cover for a duel. It was the safest he could be, all things considered.

After getting off the train, it had taken Harry nearly a week to find his aunt and uncle’s house, and in that week of searching, Harry had decided that he did not care for the suburbs.

Foraging for food in the wild had been challenging, but it had not felt dangerous to slip away from camp, especially with the help of the Cloak. And while the crowds in the city had been stressful, there had been so many people and so many places to find food, Harry had not worried so much about someone noticing if he snatched a few bread rolls.

Here, Harry found it far more difficult to go unnoticed. Without the protection of the Cloak, he was not sure how long he could have gotten away with nicking food before some nosy passerby thought it was their business to recount the pastries on display. In London, he could even have blended in without the use of the Cloak, as he had briefly in Knockturn Alley. There were no such options here.

He also had a harder time finding places to sleep. There were very few places to find shelter, not like London where there were plenty of trees, bridges, and alleys to hide in. Occasionally, he would stumble across a children’s playground and at least felt somewhat protected, but otherwise, Harry had not truly felt comfortable sleeping until he had finally arrived at Number 4 Privet Drive.

He hadn’t remembered the exact address when he had first set out, only what the house had looked like when he had arrived on the night of his twelfth birthday, and a street name: Privet Drive. He did remember his Aunt Petunia’s perfectly manicured garden, and though she had not been around for the last few months to tend it, Harry thought it still looked rather lovely. He wondered if his aunt and his father might have more in common than they realised.

Harry had taken to tending the garden when it was dark out, since he did not know how else to repay his aunt and uncle for using their house. Gardening was the most pleasant thing he’d had to occupy himself since he, Ron, and Hermione had fled Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It felt productive, it helped him feel closer to home, and, when he was pruning his aunt’s potted roses, he didn’t think too heavily about the diadem.

With the loss of the diadem, the urgency of his quest had evaporated. He had reviewed his weeks in London as thoroughly as possible, and he had no explanation for the missing Horcrux. The only times his pack had not been physically on his person since he had left Ron and Hermione had been while he was in the lake, but even at those times, he had used the Cloak to hide his pack, and it had never been truly out of his sight.

The only thing Harry could think of was that it had been removed between the morning he had put it into his pack and the night he had left. But it seemed absurd to him that Ron or Hermione would take the diadem without telling him. He couldn’t fathom it.

With no leads on the diadem and no leads on the cup, Harry’s perspective on the situation was rather hopeless. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, passing his days on Privet Drive, but he didn’t know what else to do. Even if he wanted to reconnect with Ron and Hermione or the Order, he wouldn’t know how.

So he read his books on Defense Against the Dark Arts, practiced what spells he could, and tended his aunt’s garden.

He was practicing his Human Transfiguration using the mirror in the bathroom, hoping he could get good enough at changing the shape of his nose that maybe he wouldn’t need Polyjuice Potion, when he heard the click of a deadbolt sliding out of place.

A high pitched whine filled Harry’s ears as someone crossed the threshold of the kitchen door. He was simultaneously glad that his alarm system worked and annoyed with himself for setting it on the door itself. It occurred to him that if he’d thought to set it on the edge of the garden, he could have bought himself more time to escape.

“Bloody hell,” someone hissed, “why won’t the damn thing shut up?”

The high-pitched whine of Harry’s alarm system stopped abruptly.

“Thanks.”

So there were at least two of them. Harry pressed himself against the wall of the bathroom and watched the hallway through the mirror. He readied his wand. He’d gotten much better at silent spellcasting in these last few weeks of practice, and thought even if there were multiple Death Eaters, he could take them one at a time, without alerting the others.

Harry tightened his grip on his wand as the footsteps grew closer. He focused on the Body-Bind Curse with every thought he had, prepared to cast it before they had a chance to fight back.

He moved suddenly, quick as he could, and fired at the figure in the hallway. His spell crashed into a hastily conjured Shield Charm and Harry ducked as a Stunner shot past his ear.

“Wait!” a familiar voice shouted, and Harry froze.

It wasn’t a Death Eater at all that he was aiming his wand at. It was Sirius. Behind him stood Regulus, also with his wand drawn.

Though they had ceased firing at each other, none of them lowered their wands.

“You are Harry, aren’t you?” Sirius asked.

Harry searched his memory desperately for a question, something only Sirius would know the answer to, something that would let Sirius know he really was Harry. He had never been good at coming up with the right sort of questions, something Lily had often reprimanded him for. James had done all the interrogating at the Burrow. All he could manage to recall was the very stupid joke that Sirius had once used with James and Tonks.

“What do you call my mum?” Harry asked.

A grin broke out on Sirius’ face, which was confirmation enough for Harry. “Lily. Or Evans when she’s especially cross. What do you call mine?”

Harry couldn’t quite bring the punchline to his lips. Not that he had any affection for Walburga Black nor any fear of swearing in front of Sirius, but he was too overcome. He threw himself into Sirius’ arms. Though he tried to hold it back, at least one choked sob broke through. Sirius pulled him close against him.

“Merlin, Harry, you have no idea how glad we are to see you, but what the hell is wrong with your face?”

Harry laughed weakly. “Practicing,” he mumbled into Sirius’ shoulder. He supposed he must look odd, with a misshapen nose, and Sirius had never seen him unshaven before. It was no wonder Sirius had cursed him back.

“If we’re going to stay for a while,” Regulus said, “then perhaps we ought to reset the alarms.”

Sirius did not release Harry. If anything, he seemed to cling more tightly. “No one’s stopping you, Reg.”

Harry, too, did not want to let go. He could not quite believe this moment was real.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“You sure as hell didn’t make it easy,” Sirius grumbled. He finally released Harry from the hug, but only to hold him at arm’s length and take a good look at him. “Are you alright? Truly?”

Harry nodded.

“You gave us a real scare with your run-in with Greyback. I thought your mum and Remus were going to tear London to pieces looking for you.”

Regulus returned from resetting the kitchen door. “Could we at least do this somewhere more comfortable than halfway into the bathroom?”

They moved the reunion to the living room. Harry took a moment to return his nose to normal while Regulus examined the fireplace.

“I tried putting a fire in there my first night,” Harry said. “It doesn’t work.”

“Looks like one of those electric contraptions.” Sirius moved aside some of Harry’s books and cast a Non-Flammable Flame on the table. Regulus pulled the armchair closer.

“Is it just you here?” Sirius asked as he settled into the sofa beside Harry. “Where are Ron and Hermione?”

Harry bit down on his tongue. “We split up,” and he could tell by the dark look in Sirius’ eyes that this wasn’t going to be the end of that conversation, no matter how desperately Harry wanted it to be.

“What about you?” Harry asked quickly. “Are Mum and Remus alright? Is there news about Dad?”

Sirius rubbed his hand across his mouth and watched the fire. “Everyone’s safe, except we don’t have news about James. The Ministry did a pretty thorough sweep of Grimmauld Place, but if they know what happened to him, they aren’t saying.”

Harry clenched his jaw to try to still his trembling lower lip. He remembered the photograph Moody had shown him of the first Order of the Phoenix. More than one of the people in that photograph had vanished without explanation and were never seen again.

When Harry was certain he could speak without his voice breaking, he asked, “How’s Mum doing?”

“We stay busy,” Sirius said. “Busy helps. I should probably let her know we found you.”

“Only if you want her Apparating into this room and setting off every single one of Harry’s alarms,” Regulus murmured.

Sirius laughed. “A good point. Where’d you learn to do that, anyway? Every window was spelled. I was afraid to get as much as a Patronus in to send you a message. The only reason we finally came in the back door was because we decided if it was you, it wouldn’t hurt to announce ourselves.”

Harry gestured at the small stack of books. “I think it’s from one of the ones you and Remus gave me. Is he alright? It was just the full moon —”

“He’s alright.” Sirius rubbed his shoulder, like the memory of the full moon brought up the memory of an injury. “We haven’t… had access to the Wolfsbane these last few months, let alone a place to brew it. Puts Remus in these moods.”

“I suggested the castle,” said Regulus.

“The castle?” Harry frowned.

Sirius shook his head. “You admitted to me that on several occasions the armor in that castle has tried to kill you. I’m not about to take any Muggle-born or werewolf friends within a mile of that place. For all we know, the castle is loyal to Bellatrix.”

“It couldn’t hurt to try with Andromeda.”

“It could hurt very much! Like a severing your head from your neck sort of hurt.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.

“The Blacks have — or had, I suppose — an estate out in the countryside,” Sirius explained. “But it’s been the center of a feud for generations. The feud supposedly ended when my mother and father married and it should have gone to me, until I got disinherited, so it should have gone to Regulus, until he faked his death so it might have gone to Bellatrix. As if that wasn’t complicated enough, my uncle got it in his head to claim ownership in his will and leave it all to Andromeda. But she’s only as much of a Black as I am, so not only is the legality of it complicated, the inheritance magic is a mess.”

“I’ve been using the castle on and off since I escaped Azkaban,” Regulus said. “That hippogriff I escaped Hogwarts with has been staying there, too. The grounds, at least, have been safe, even if the interior is… questionable.”

“I will bring up using the grounds for the next full moon,” Sirius said, “but I don’t want to get Tonks’ hopes up.”

“Tonks?” Harry asked.

Sirius hesitated. He took in a deep breath and let it out before he finally spoke. “Things aren’t… easy for anyone right now. I mean, I know you know that, but all of this has been really hard on Drommie and Tonks. Ted’s on the run, and it’s not exactly a secret who Tonks married. After Remus’ close call at the Longbottoms and again in Godric’s Hollow, Tonks is being watched really closely by the Ministry. I think I’ve seen her maybe three times since James was captured. Remus has seen her once. She wants us to find a safe house, and she wants to stay there with us to have her baby. All of that is easier said than done.”

“I’m sure even this house has a watch on it, doesn’t it?” Regulus asked.

Harry nodded. “They come by about once a week. They aren’t very subtle, and they’re easy to hide from, especially with the Cloak. They — er — they noticed that I’d pruned the roses back the other day, but they decided the neighbour must have done it.”

Sirius shook his head. “What were you thinking, doing something as obvious as working in the garden?”

“Busy helps.” Harry did not feel like explaining exactly how much it had helped him keep his peace of mind. “How did you two manage to find me? I thought if anyone was going to catch up with me, it would be Greyback.”

Again, Sirius watched Harry closely, trying to parse through Harry’s clipped answers. And again, he let Harry change the subject, but Harry knew how stubborn everyone in his family could be. He was not looking forward to a more private conversation with Sirius.

“Greyback might have trouble tracking you through a train station of Muggles and unusual scents,” said Sirius, “but not Padfoot.”

Regulus snorted in disbelief.

“I don’t mean it was easy,” Sirius amended, “just that I’m better at it than he is.”

“You followed my scent all the way from London?”

“No, though that would have been much easier, if you hadn’t boarded one of a hundred different trains. But I managed to pick up on the smell of your blood, and it led us to a flat in London.”

Harry frowned. “I never went to any flat.”

Regulus pulled a small white card from his cloak and handed it to Harry. Harry squinted at the silver writing printed on it. It appeared to be a card for an art gallery in London. There was information for contacting the gallery printed on the front. He turned the card over and found the gallery owner’s name: Nigel Brooks.

“He said he gave you something to put on your wound,” Sirius said, “and that was the trail I was able to follow.”

“That is not what he said.” Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Alright, he practically said it. Did you have a better explanation for why Harry’s blood would be in that flat?”

“I’m only asking that you tell the story correctly.”

“Should I mention the part where you tried to Alohomora a Muggle keypad entry?”

Regulus bristled. “And I suppose your method of breaking it was much more sophisticated.”

“I short-circuited it. There’s a difference.”

Harry had seen enough of Sirius and Regulus’ fights to know there would be no end to this. Part of it was pleasant, a bit of normalcy in the middle of everything, but Harry’s patience for it was not as strong as it used to be.

He handed the business card back to Regulus. “So Nigel told you I went to Surrey?”

“Not in so many words,” Regulus said.

“He refused to tell us anything at first,” said Sirius. “He said we weren’t police, and he had no way to be sure that we weren’t friends of the man who had been chasing you. A surprisingly reasonable Muggle. Didn’t even care that I said I was your godfather. We finally convinced him to at least tell us he’d gotten you onto a train.”

Regulus coughed.

“Oh, what did I forget now?”

“I convinced him. You looked like you were going to beat the answer out of him, which would not have helped our case.”

“Yes, fine. Anyway, he told us that you were safe and he had put you on a train out of London. Which was lucky, because Lily was so desperate for information she was about ready to wring the life out of Shyverwretch and set fire to the Leaky Cauldron.”

“It wasn’t Shyverwretch’s fault,” Harry said hurriedly. He’d had enough time to turn the scene in the poison shop over in his head, and he didn’t blame Shyverwretch for the choice he had made. “Greyback threatened his great-granddaughter.”

“I believe you,” Sirius said, “and Lily probably will, too. Shyverwretch is an old family friend. He helped Lily cultivate her Wolfsbane garden back when she first started brewing it, and she used to give him the extra at each new moon harvest. If he’d known who you were, he might have been more likely to help you.”

“I didn’t think —”

“You couldn’t have known any of that,” Sirius assured him. “What’s important is that you made it to safety, and no one else got hurt.”

A knot that Harry didn’t know he had been carrying unwound itself in his chest. He did not know how much he had needed to hear someone tell him he had done the right thing, that running had been the smart thing to do.

“Once we knew you were out of London, we relaxed a bit,” Sirius continued. “The Ministry and the Death Eaters were still scouring the city, convinced you were hiding nearby for whatever reason, but Regulus and I started searching elsewhere. We made a list of every train you could have gotten on, then asked around. Regulus insisted on Obliviating everyone we spoke to, even if they didn’t know anything, so it took about three times as long as it should have.”

“The last thing we needed,” Regulus interrupted, “was several hundred Muggles across five counties looking for Harry. It was necessary for his protection.”

Sirius shrugged. “This morning we got our first real lead. A woman said she thought she’d seen you, but she couldn’t be sure because your hair was red at the time. She said you were on the train that went out to Haslemere. I thought that this might be where you were really headed. And, here we are.”

“I’m sorry you went through so much trouble,” Harry said. “I didn’t know how to reach you, how to tell you where I was.”

“It’s better this way,” said Sirius. “If we couldn’t find you, neither could You-Know-Who.”

Harry frowned. He had never heard Sirius hesitate to use Voldemort’s name, not once, but before he could ask, Sirius stretched and got to his feet.

“Speaking of reaching,” he checked his wrist watch, “I’d better get down to the office to make tomorrow’s paper.”

“What?”

“Tonks, Remus, and I have been using the classifieds in the Times to get messages to each other. It’s unlikely any blood purists are checking it, but we code them anyway. I need to let them know you’re safe.” His Flame disappeared as he pocketed his wand. “If I’m not back in, say, two hours you should leave. Not that I’ve been one to crack under torture before, but better safe than sorry.”

Harry’s stomach twisted, but Regulus looked more displeased by the loss of warmth than the prospect of Sirius being caught and tortured.

Harry followed Sirius to the door and carefully reset the alarm as he left. When he returned to the living room, Regulus had cast his own Non-Flammable Flame Charm, but he had not put it on the table as Sirius had. He had cast it in on the arm of his chair, and carefully warmed his hands against it. He settled back into the chair, much like a cat curling up beside the fireplace. Harry supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.

“So you’ve decided to finish the quest on your own?” Regulus asked.

Harry tried to swallow the bitter taste that surged suddenly, but it was hard for him to forget that Regulus had refused to join them in Godric’s Hollow and had turned down Harry’s request for help destroying the diadem. He knew, rationally, that Regulus was doing something else at Dumbledore’s behest, but between failing the Horcrux quest so miserably and failing to get Cedric’s help, Harry found it easy to blame Regulus for his own shortcomings. He considered walking back into the kitchen without a word. It would be the sort of thing Regulus deserved, after how many conversations Regulus had avoided without even the pretense of a polite excuse.

But even though the short walk to the kitchen was tempting, Harry sank down onto the couch and buried his head in his hands. He might be angry with Regulus, but there was not another soul who knew about Horcruxes as intimately as Regulus did, no one else who had kept Dumbledore’s confidence and knew the truth of what Harry faced.

“I messed up,” Harry finally said. “I thought — we needed to do something, get information from the Ministry or destroy the diadem but it was all too risky, so I just thought I would take on that risk alone.”

“Your adventure in London might have gone very differently if your friends had been with you,” Regulus said, “for better or worse. There’s no way to know, so it’s best not to dwell on what you can’t change.”

“It isn’t that.” Harry rubbed at his scar. It ached, dully, and if he focused on it and his anger, he could glimpse flashes of the thief that still consumed Voldemort’s thoughts. He steered away from his anger and focused on his grief. It hurt differently than his scar did, and Harry hadn’t decided if the pain was better or worse.

“I — I lost the diadem,” he confessed. “I don’t know how or when, but it’s gone. And I don’t have any leads on the cup, and I can’t figure out why Cedric won’t help and I — I don’t know what to do. I’ve failed at everything Dumbledore left for me.”

He did not dare look at Regulus’ reaction. Regulus was traditionally impassive, but Harry did not want to risk seeing his own disappointment with himself reflected on Regulus’ face.

“The diadem has been destroyed,” Regulus said.

Harry jerked his head up. “What?”

“Your friends took care of it.”

Harry stared at Regulus, now angrier than ever with Regulus’ reticence. How could Regulus withhold details from him now, of all times?

“But when? How?”

“They found the Sword. I understand it came with some cost, but they were able to use it to destroy the diadem. You haven’t failed yet, Harry.”

As comforting as it was to know that there was still a glimmer of hope, it did not help Harry feel like less of a failure. His friends had succeeded without him. All the more reason to let them finish the quest without him.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t help us find the cup. I thought I could use the Ministry somehow, but I don’t think I can go back to London.”

“I will give you what I know of the Lestrange estate from my time before my death and arrest. It might help you make a plan.”

“But you won’t come with me, will you?”

Regulus pressed his lips into a firm line. “Dumbledore asked me to —”

“Dumbledore’s dead.” Harry was surprised by how quickly the words came and by how much they still hurt to speak. “He messed up and trusted Snape when he shouldn’t have, and he trusted this quest to me, and I can’t do it. I can’t.”

Regulus watched Harry, face still and unreadable as ever. There was no comfort in his eyes, but there was also no judgement. If anything, he seemed to be evaluating Harry’s anguish the way one might evaluate a difficult crossword.

It made Harry wish, more than anything, that he could talk to Sirius or Remus or his mum about the quest. They would comfort him. They would tell him it was going to be alright. They would offer to help. They would offer to do it for him.

But asking for their help had already cost him his father. He couldn’t ask any more of them.

“Forget it,” Harry said dully. “Just — tell me what you can and I’ll figure it out from there, I suppose. That’s what Dumbledore wanted, isn’t it?”

Regulus was quiet for another moment longer. When he did speak, his voice was low, and full of so much restrained emotion that, for the briefest moment, Harry thought he had changed into Sirius somehow.

“I have never been particularly adept at asking for help,” Regulus said. “I learned early on not to rely on my parents nor even Sirius. When I finally did trust someone, I was the one who broke that trust. Dumbledore, for all his flaws, was an incredibly wise man. He knew the value of asking for help. He gave this quest to you, Harry, because he knew that he could not finish it on his own, and he knew that I could not either. He never asked you to take it on alone.”

“But he did tell me to leave my parents out of it.”

“It’s like you said: Dumbledore’s dead. He’s not here to stop you from telling Sirius all about Horcruxes. I think your mother would eagerly help you plan a raid on the Lestrange estate.” Regulus looked down at the wand in his hands. His lips trembled, and Harry did not know what to do or say. He had never seen Regulus look so distraught, so lost.

“Why not tell them?” Regulus whispered. “Why not tell them everything?”

“And let what happened to my dad happen to them? Or something worse?” Harry shook his head. “That’s why I went off on my own in the first place.”

It was like watching a puzzle put itself together, one piece at a time. Regulus slowly composed himself. He straightened in his chair, so he no longer resembled a lounging cat. His face became hard and still. He looked as stately as any of the portraits in Grimmauld Place, when they were quiet, at least.

“You have friends, Harry,” Regulus said, “friends that Dumbledore trusted to help you. There is no shame in asking for that help.”

Despite Regulus’ suggestion to tell his parents about the quest, his advice had suddenly shifted from asking his family to help to getting help from “friends that Dumbledore trusted to help you.” That didn’t include his parents, nor Remus and Sirius. It also did not include Cedric. He wondered what Regulus might know about Dumbledore’s decision to leave Cedric out of the will, but before he could ask, the kitchen door slammed open and a high-pitched screech filled the house.

Harry dove behind the sofa and Regulus disappeared suddenly. Harry thought for a moment he had Apparated silently somehow, until he saw the swish of a black cat tail behind the television.

“Harry! Regulus!”

It was Sirius’ voice, but Harry didn’t understand why Sirius would make an entrance like this. He stayed hidden, even as Sirius walked into the living room. He threw a newspaper down on the table.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” he snapped to the apparently empty room, “it’s me. My mum’s a bitch and Harry, you once smuggled a dragon out of Hogwarts, and Regulus, when you were five you stole Andromeda’s doll collection and hid it in my bed because you were upset that she and I left you out of a game of Exploding Snap.”

Harry supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that five-year-old Regulus had been able to not only exact revenge on his cousin but frame his brother as part of that revenge. Still, he waited for Regulus to reveal himself before standing up.

“What was all that about?” Regulus said as he adjusted the collar of his cloak. “What are you thinking, barging in like that —”

“We’re leaving,” Sirius said. “Now. They’ve found James.”

[beyondconfessor]

The Infernal Contract

[2/16] Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: "Was that–“ she asked, feeling her voice rise with anger, "a failed attempt at a Caligari spell, Faustus?"

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

Zelda entered the suite and set her shopping bags down, onto the counter, while keeping a hold of the bassinet in her right hand.

"Ah, Lady Blackwood," Faustus said, from the dining table, where he seemed to have finished a late dinner. "I see you've been enjoying the Night Markets."

"Just a few essentials," she promised, looking over at him. "I'll go and change Judas and then I can show you." Though she doubted he would be all that interested. She'd purchased a new dress, a few brooches, an enchanted day planner for when she returned to the Academy, as well as a few rare plants for Hilda's garden.

The Night Markets were an excellent place to pick up ingredients or spell casting objects for your traditional charms, but some of the vendors sold some more boutique enchantments. It was a bit of roulette, however. Sometimes you would get a dress that never tore, and other times you may pick up a necklace and find that it'd been cursed and the vendor was trying to pass it on.

Zelda adored the Night Markets and especially took pleasure in haggling with witches until she made the vendor throw their hands up in frustration and submit to her offer.  

Taking the bassinet into the bedroom, she bathed Judas and changed into his sleepwear before setting him down into his crib. But it was as she turned to grab her bag for a cigarette that she noticed something sitting on her bedside table.

It was a reasonably large box shape, wrapped in a smooth, brown paper.

Zelda felt a rush of excitement as she walked over and lifted the present up with two hands and examined it from all angles. There was a card, attached to a ribbon on the top. Written in sharp penmanship was her name as Lady Zelda Blackwood.

Zelda felt her heart sink with disappointment, realising it was not from Lilith.

She had not seen the demoness since the week before. Nonetheless, she had found herself lately taking evening walks in the hopes that Lilith would melt out of the shadows with a smirk, and take advantage of her somewhere inappropriate.

She carried the present to the dining area of the suite, where Faustus was enjoying a cup of coffee. "Ah, I see you found it," he said while setting his cup down on its saucer. "I saw it in the window of a shop and couldn't help myself. It's a DaVinci original, you can see his design if you open the top."

"That's very sweet," she smiled. Reaching up, she tugged the ribbon undone and gently peeled back the brown wrapping paper. It revealed an antique musical jewellery box, made of redwood. Lovely, but relatively young for her. She shuffled through the drawers, finding them all empty but one which held a photo of her.

"Take a look at the dancer," Faustus said, standing up. "She reminds me of you."

Zelda raised an eyebrow, before lifting up the lid of the musical box. She watched as a tiny dancer, with red hair and an emerald-coloured dress, spun around to a music box tune.

She knew that tune...

Its porcelain hands were high in the air, her skirts twirling round and round and round as Faustus stepped close and placed a hand on her waist as he whispered something lovely into her ear. His voice was warm in her ear, coaxing something wrong her.

Zelda could feel herself fading away, her vision blurring as she watched the girl spin round and round.

What was he saying? It sounded like...like Latin?

Her head spun, it was as if the world was fading away and she was becoming small inside of her self, unable to draw her own breaths or reach out.

Zelda recoiled as electricity shot through her right hand. She snapped away, turning around to face Faustus as the hypnotism washed from the expanded magic, leaving her with a splitting headache. "Was that–" she asked, feeling her voice rise with anger, "a failed attempt at a Caligari spell, Faustus?"

Faustus cleared his throat, stepping back. "Of course not, Zelda. You know I would never dream of doing-"

She snapped the lid of the music box down and glared at him. Her head pounded, feeling like the pressure would burst through her skull pierce through her eyes. The magic felt oily against her own, bubbling like a residue against her psyche.

In all of her life, she'd never had a man dream of placing such a spell on her. As her rage narrowed her vision, she noticed the silver knife within reach.

No. It was too dangerous given his stance as interim anti-Pope. She'd have to be smart about this.

Turning away, she drew a deep breath and pushed the outrage down in her chest. First, she needed to worry about her family, then she could kill him.

"What in Heaven made you decide to do this?" she asked, rifling through the drawers of the box to pull the picture of herself. Once in grip, she smashed it against the table. "Did I not promise to submit to you, to serve you as Lilith serves the Dark Lord in our very vows not two weeks ago, Faustus?"

Faustus was beginning to look more and more awkward as he shrunk backwards. "Yes, of course. It's just that..." he trailed off, clearing his throat. "You were..."

"I was what?"

"Arrogant in a way a wife shouldn't be." He stood still then, lifting his chin up to hold against her.

Zelda laughed despite herself. "Arrogant? Oh, that's rich. No, I don't think that was the problem Faustus, I think you're just a little bitch, but if this is how you want to play, you won't win." She stalked forward and grabbed his wrist, hissing a hex against him. Her nails dug into his wrists, piercing through to seal her curse to his blood.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice panicked as he tried to break free of her grip and failed.

Zelda smiled before she let go of his wrist, feeling the expended magic drain from her. She'd pay for that price later. For now, she wanted him to suffer.

"A jilted-bride hex," she said, before stepping back and adjusting the sleeves of her shirt as she gave him a tight smile. "I have no idea what you planned with your curse, but if you thought you would ever have me or any other woman again after what you just tried, you're sorely mistaken."

"Zelda, honestly, this is absurd," he said, walking over to grab her by her arm.

"Careful, Faustus. A wedlock curse isn't easily broken. I'd hate for your manhood to become diseased next."

Faustus stepped away, his face caught between anger and horror. The threat hung there between them, a dark reminder that he wasn't the first man to disappear after breaking her heart and if he wasn't careful, she would personally ensure he was the last.

He turned away, wiping his hands over his mouth, looking for some way to have the final word.

Zelda watched him, feeling the magic flex in core as she prepared herself against whatever he might try and throw at her.

Faustus turned sharply on his heel, raising his hand to point at her. For a moment, he looked like he was going to curse her back before he closed his mouth and shook his head, his shoulders sagging. "I can't even look at you," he said with as much vehemence as he could muster.

It wasn't much, and as he walked away into the bedroom, Zelda felt a tightness in her chest unwind. Had Faustus not been up for Anti-Pope, she was sure he would have tried to retaliate. But a missing wife so soon on the honeymoon would have raised eyebrows. Zelda may not be loved and adored by the coven, but they would certainly wonder about her absence.

Zelda exhaled and felt herself sink against the kitchen counter. He would plot and scheme and find some way to wield power over her again if she didn't somehow smooth the situation over. No matter her growing bitterness to that man, she would not waiver on her wants when they were within sight. Sacrifices had to be made in the pursuit of power, she could concede where necessary to ensure the endgame remained in place.

Still, she wondered how it went wrong so fast. His misogyny may have tripled since their wedding, but a Caligari spell went against the Satanic Bible. Free will was gifted by the Dark Lord after the False God so chose to forbid it. It was with his persuasion that humans and witch kind alike were blessed with the ability to determine their own fates.

Taking the music box, she walked over to the trash and dropped it there, taking pleasure in knowing that Faustus would have spent a pretty coin on it. Then, she washed her hands with salt to cleanse any magic residue, before pouring herself a drink.

The headache still throbbed as she sat down on the settee. It would eventually go away, but it would likely be a few hours. Zelda had enough spells blow-up in her face over her centuries to know that the headache was the result of a cast spell backfiring against its target. Which meant for all intents and purposes, the Caligari spell should have worked, but hadn't.

Zelda looked at her hand to where Lilith's ring sat.

She played with it, twisting it on her finger before dropping the hand away into her lap. Whatever reason Lilith had for granting her the gift, she was thankful for it. Zelda had no idea what nefarious plot Faustus had for her with that spell, but it made her all the more sincere to the notion that Ambrose was innocent.

Which meant that Sabrina was right, and if she was right about that, then there was every possibility that Faustus had murdered Edward and Diana.

No, she couldn't stomach that thought.  

She took a sip of her whisky and considered her options. How long would Faustus wait before his rage over-boiled the pot? She thought it over, at every angle, and decided that it was easier to catch flies with honey.

After an hour had passed, she walked into the bedroom. Faustus sat on the end of the bed, his head in his hands, his jacket removed and shirt undone - no doubt from having tried and failed to get an erection to see if her curse had landed true (it had).

"I've decided," she began and watched as his head tilted towards her. "That you had some rather important business here to attend to given that you are the interim anti-pope. As such, you have sent me to return Greendale with Judas and prepare for your return in a week."

Faustus swallowed and looked directly at her. There was a rage in his eyes, but he had enough sense to push it back.

"No one needs to know of our dirty laundry, Faustus. In time, you will learn that I can be very discreet, but make no mistake, if you try something like that again, I promise you that not only will your very precious manhood become incurably diseased, but it will be publicly removed by my hand."

"Understood," he said, though his eyes still stared at her with rage.

"I'm glad we can come to an agreement. I expect I will see you in a few days."

--------------------------------

Zelda arrived in Greendale mid-afternoon feeling all the more at ease to be on home soil. She walked up the front steps of her home and pushed the door open, just as it seemed Ambrose was opening it.

"Ambrose?" she questioned with a sharp look as if to say: shouldn't you be in the dungeon at the Academy?

"Auntie. Good to see you," he said, though his eyes were darting around behind her.

"It's just myself and Judas, but if you're hiding here, leaving through the front door is not the way to do it," she said, pushing him back inside and shutting the front door behind her.

"I...had thought you were Sabrina."

She quirked an eyebrow at him as she carried Judas and set him down on the kitchen countertop. He'd begun to fuss, soft mewls turning to hiccups that would like turn to screaming soon. It was likely time for his afternoon feed. "And what has Sabrina gotten up to now?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Clearly not," Zelda said as she went to the fridge, pulling out the goat's milk. When she turned around, Ambrose had his face in his hands, a look of horror on his face. "Well, spit it out, Ambrose, I haven't all day."

"She..." he fumbled, trying to find the words. And then the whole story came tumbling out, about the witch hunters, Sabrina's alleged death and resurrection, her forceful burning of the angels and her healing properties which no one knew she had a talent for –- something that would have manifested in her early years at the very least.

And now, it seemed, her dear niece could apparently control the weather.

Zelda paused, drinking in the story. With everything that happened in the last six months, it wasn't entirely far-fetched. Sabrina's powers had been growing at an unprecedented rate. Still, weather control, resurrection, healing? Sabrina could do many things, but she'd always been awful at things that required patience and attention to detail.

"Auntie?" Ambrose prompted. "I'm worried. I know he's your husband, but Father Blackwood despised her before. He will see this power as a threat. Please, you can't-"

Zelda raised her hand, silencing him. "I know," she said. "Believe me."

Her nephew sighed, great relief falling from his shoulders before he looked up at with sweet, kind eyes. "I take it that Rome didn't go well?"

Zelda rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "He tried to use a Caligari spell. On me," she scoffed as she took out a saucepan and filled it with water. "In all my centuries, I've never had a man even consider such a violation against free will."

"Did he...?"

"Does it look like he succeeded?" she asked, before turning back to the stove pot and placing the bottle into it. "No, he immediately failed, like the washed-up warlock he is." Zelda stared at the bottle, feeling the anger rise and then sink away deep into the pit of her belly. Anger made for magical accidents, and she couldn't afford that at the moment. "I'm fine, Ambrose. Truly."

"Yes, but your neck is..." he trailed off and then a red began to tinge across Ambrose's cheeks as he realised what the marks were. "Oh."

Zelda brushed her hair back over her neck, adjusting her blouse collar as she quietly cursed Lilith. "They're not from him," she said, before taking the bottle out the bottle from the water, testing it against the temperature against her wrist.

"So, the Dark Lord, then?"

Zelda looked up, feeling heat rush across her face at the very memory of not just that first night, but re-visitation. Lilith's touch left an imprint on her, both literally and metaphorically. "I would have thought that they would have faded now, but apparently not."

"Yes, well, infernal marks tend to leave an impression," Ambrose said, looking them over before he darted his eyes away. "I had thought that the, um, well that it was a legend told to terrify brides before their wedding."

"Evidently not," Zelda said as she held the bottle for Judas and turned the stove off. A silence carried over the room as Ambrose rocked on his heels, looking as though he was holding back a hundred and one questions. Sooner or later, they would come tumbling out, and Zelda had no desire to feed any more half-truths towards him or any other inquisitive mind.

"Where did you say Sabrina was?"

"Oh, she went to speak to her school teacher. The one that-"

"Wardwell," Zelda seethed. The woman got under her skin more than any of Sabrina's other teachers, with her snide remarks about how she knew best and was far more worldly given her excommunicated state because of how dearly trusted by Edward she was –- bullshit.

And her ability to procure spells to magnificent degrees, the likes of that haven't been seen in centuries? No, there was something up with this woman, and she didn't buy the fact that she loved Edward one bit. The way she spoke of him was cold and distant, not some jilted lover holding onto the pieces of her heart.

Sure, Edward kept his secrets, and he was undoubtedly paranoid enough to seek outside help, but that woman did not know her brother better than she did.

"And Hilda?" she asked, instead of pressing the issue.

"At the Academy, I believe. Where is Father Blackwood, if I may ask?"

Zelda's heart sunk. "He's in Rome. He's been made the Anti-Pope, in the interim until the Cardinals can arrange a meeting."

"The Anti-Pope?" Ambrose said weakly. Zelda could see hope shredding in his eyes as he exhaled out a short, deep breath and stumbled against the kitchen counter. "Satan save me, I'll be executed within the hour of his arrival."

"Ambrose, we will find a way out of this. Even if it means placing you in hiding."

"Hiding," he whispered, nodding. "They'll have all of witch kind after me if I left. There'll be a bounty against me."

Zelda had no words of comfort to offer. She reached out and squeezed at his hands, hoping that was enough. There would be some way out of this, she was sure of it. It was just a matter of finding out what. (If only murdering Faustus wouldn't fix the issue.)

"Does Sabrina have any ideas?" she asked.

"One, I think, but she wanted to meet with Wardwell first."

Zelda nodded. "Then I suppose we trust her. After all, it's not over until a banshee sings."

Ambrose smiled weakly and nodded.

"Now, why don't you upstairs and keep out of sight. When Sabrina arrives, you can run off and do whatever needs to be done."

"Thank you, Auntie."

"And Ambrose, I meant what I said. We will find a way out of this. We're Spellmans, we survive."

Ambrose nodded t her, but the movement was morose. As he turned away, Zelda could see him slump forward, footsteps heavy as he made his way up the staircase, towards the attic.

Zelda burped Judas, before moving him upstairs where she bathed him and changed him into new clothes before placing him back into his bassinet to sleep in what had meant to become Leticia's nursery, now refurbished as a joining spare room to what had been her own room.

Not that it was really her room since she married.

Zelda stepped through the door and looked over the contents of her old room. Everything had been packed, ready for the move to the Blackwood Manor on the outcrops of the Academy. Her dresser contained a few items, in case she needed to stay for any reason, and the bed which had a throw she'd procured from Morocco forty years prior, remained in place.

Everything else was gone, likely waiting at her new residence for her to unpack. She couldn't even think about doing that.

What was she going to do now, she wondered. Stay in a marriage where they both held a knife behind their backs, or divorce after a few weeks, ruin their chances at power?

Satan forgive her, the fallout from the church would be catastrophic for decades. Not only would it weaken his position as the Anti-Pope (which she didn't care for) but it would also undermine her own search for power. Faustus would likely turn his anger back on her, and then where would she be?

Powerless and at war with an adept warlock.

She could handle losing the coven. Her faith was more than church walls and a priest. Satan knew Sabrina had brought her fair share of humiliation to the church. But her leaving Faustus wouldn't just affect the two of them or her family. There were others involved.

She sat down at the end of the bed and clutched at the bedding as if it could steady her –– what of Judas, she wondered, of Prudence and Leticia? Who would look after them if she fled back to her family? Prudence was just a girl, no matter how bold she acted, and Faustus would swallow her whole to keep her from stealing his son's legacy.

No. She would stay.

She would build iron walls against him, but she would stay, for herself, for her family and for the family she'd married into. And if she had to quietly murder Faustus and bury him in the forest, then so be it.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she found herself suddenly praying to Lilith for strength, whispering the old prayer into the dim light of the room. It'd been a long time since she'd made such a prayer, Sabrina had been just a babe in her arms, newly an orphan with nowhere else (worthy) to call home.  

Zelda opened her eyes to the dark, feeling a shiver run down her spine. The path was long and wretched before her, but she was a Spellman by blood and Spellmans survive.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

⚔️🏰🐲 - DMODT 31 update

Levi had the feeling Eren was keeping something from him. They hadn't been physically intimate since getting drunk together, but he'd expected that. Eren had said he wasn't ready, and Levi respected his omega's needs. No. There was something else that was wrong. The way Eren's smile didn't quite meet his eyes. The way Eren seemed to drift out during conversations, and the way he'd wake with a start and whimper in the middle of the night, only to roll away from him when Levi tried to ask what was wrong. He knew Eren wasn't feeling all that great about the clutch, but this felt as if something else had happened and he had no idea what. The alpha could only think that it had happened while staying at the military barracks, when he'd been forced to talk to Petra about her completely unacceptable behaviour. Petra had been in a position of power while at the port barracks, her words and her actions carried a lot of sway, so when her engagement to him dissolved and he appeared with a new lover, the soldiers had all looked to Eren in disgust... which Petra has encouraged. She'd encouraged them to ignore Eren completely, as he simply Levi's whore. Having heard all about the fight the alpha had had with Mikasa, Levi had thought Petra might pull her head in. Mikasa may have been mad at Eren, but she still loved him, and hadn't taken too kindly to Petra trying to manipulate her against the teen. Petra hadn't appreciated being talked to in such a manor by Mikasa, and it'd very nearly turned into a sword fight over Eren's honour. Levi had been mid conversation when a scratch had appeared on his cheek, Eren's magic had healed it the moment it appeared, and when he'd asked Eren, Eren had said he'd punched himself in the face as he'd pulled the blankets. Which was honestly a very Eren thing to do... yet... What if it hadn't been? The stomach ache that had felt like a knife to his gut, he blamed on possible lasting cramping from after the birth... but once again, what if it hadn't been? He didn't want to mention the cramping, in case he upset Eren over the clutch, or in case it was related to Eren's coming heat. Now that they were on their way back home, he really felt as if he should have. He was sure the moment had passed, and he'd been left behind. The matter weighed heavily on Levi's mind as he carried out his duties. Erwin had organised a series of visits for them, and even a trip to the theatre to see some play that hadn't made a lick of sense to him. Eren had played his part beautifully on Levi's arm. The teen smiled, waved and was polite to everyone who spoke to them. Levi very much the proud alpha as his omega did, yet none of it felt right. When Eren fell asleep on his shoulder at the theatre, the teen had flinched and jumped away when Levi shook him awake. Mumbling out an apology, Eren moved to sink into his side, with a clear stiffness in his form. Maybe this was all too much too fast? He'd grown used to the pageantry of royalty and aristocracy, but Eren hadn't. He'd spent his crucial years in a sanctuary, then spent most of his time at the castle studying, before leaving to live with dragons. He hadn't had manners drilled into him, or every aspect of high society interactions. Talking to Erwin, they agreed he needed some form of lessons. At least in dancing, and dining. If Eren could hold his head high for both those tasks, than everything else could be covered. It was also decided that Armin would return home with them, Mikasa and her squad to return after all their duties were transferred back to Petra and her squad, though he'd promoted squad member Eld to leader, in a petty move to punish Petra for her pettiness. Whatever was going on with Eren, he could only pray that the teen would either break down completely, or open up and dump everything on him, as at the moment, it hurt to watch him silently suffering. * After Eren's run in with Zeke, he'd forced himself back together and reassigned himself his original self gifted mission of finding Armin. Again he'd walked through the barracks, and again he'd found himself ignored... until he finally found a semi-familiar face. He could never forget horsefaced Jean, his beard had made him somewhat better looking, but in Eren's eyes, he was still a braying arse... so, he turned his attention to Sasha. Smiling the best he could, he jogged over to the pair who engaged in conversation with their friend Connie. He liked Connie. Connie managed to always ruin his own arguments over how smart he was, yet it wasn't in an obnoxious way. It was because he was always talking big and bolstering his own ego, that he pushed himself much harder than most people. Reaching them, Sasha gave a bow with a giggle "Your majesty" "I'm not the prince" Giving him a wide grin, Sasha nodded "I know, but you're like sleeping with him... which means you can get me more food, right?" Snorting, Eren shook his head "I doubt I have any kind of power there, but I can ask" Jean crossed his arms with a huff "I don't know what he sees in you, and those freaky scales" "I'd rather my scales than your horseface. Sasha, have you seen Armin?" Sasha hummed, raising her hand to her chin as she tapped her jawline with her pointer finger "I think he was in the kitchens with Mikasa. All the meals have to be triple checked... I don't know why they wouldn't let me do it..." "Probably because you'd eat the whole meal" "I joined the military to eat new and yummy foods... but it's always rations. When are we going to get meat!?" Sasha was practically drooling "Sasha, can you show me to the kitchen's, please? I have no idea how everyone finds their way around here" "We're not your soldiers. We didn't agree to give our lives for you" Eren raised an eyebrow at Jean, reminding himself he needed to be strong and couldn't show any possible kind of weakness "I'm not asking you to give your lives, I was asking Sasha if she could please help me find the kitchen" "Will there be food?" Was it so hard to do one small favour?" "I can ask" Sasha grabbed his arm, Eren forcing himself not to tear it out of her hold. Sasha wasn't about to beat the shit out of him just to make herself feel better "You're the best!" The cook refused to give Sasha extra food, as she was man handled out the kitchen. It was a rather comical sight as she clung to the steamed potato she'd stolen. Sitting at the kitchen table, Armin brightened at the sight of him "Eren, come sit with me" Ignoring the unhappy cooks, Eren did just that. Armin seemed so very happy "Did everything go well with Levi last night?" "You have no idea. After what happened with Mikasa, Levi walked both of us home. He stayed for tea" "The way you make it sound, it sounds like there was more than tea" Armin blushed "It wasn't like that. We talked about all sorts of things, until we both realised we talked all night" "Oh, Armin. I'm so happy for you" "I... I have some of his hair. I found it once he left, on the back of the chair that is. I didn't just take it. You can do a test right? With some of his hair?" "How do you know it's not yours? You're both blond" "I don't... but no one else in the house has blond hair. It... won't cause an explosion, will it?" The twinkle in Armin's eyes was filled with hope "No. But I do need a few things for it to work" Armin let out a kind of muffled squeak, before taking a deep breath "What do you need?" "A bowl of milk. Some blue ink, and a piece of chalk. As well as some of your hair and his" "That's all? No crystals or herbs?" "If I was using Eldia magic, it would be a whole lot more complicated. Historia taught me this, because she thought I could use it to make money if living at the castle didn't work out" "Really?" "I didn't know if I'd be allowed to come back, or even move back in. Now, do you think you get everything?" "I have chalk and inks in my bag... I just need a bowl of milk" "Do I want to know why you have chalk and ink?" "Sometimes you have to draw out things for dock workers to understand. Not all of them can read, then you need the ink because you have to fix the invoices" "Armin, I was joking. You need to calm down. We don't know the outcome. It could say anything" It was also a little bit late to be wondering if Erwin had any spells on him like the ones Eren placed on Levi. Though his were prayers, and Eren's healing came through the brooch his boyfriend wore, and their bond. But if there was something in place, it should have been activated when Obsydin infected him... "Don't say that. Eren, he's so smart. He has so many ideas of how to improve things..." "Ok. Ok. I know. I just don't want you to be hurt" "How accurate is this?" "Fairly. Most of the time. Things can affect it, like your friend dying of old age before you get me everything I need" The cook didn't want them messing up her table, but Eren promised to clean it with magic. Drawing a medium sized circle in front of them, he drew a small series of symbols inside of it "What's that?" "Purely decorative" Armin elbowed him "Then why are you drawing them?" "Because I'm teasing you. I only need the outside circle" Armin pouted at him, holding out his hand until Eren returned the chalk. Placing the bowl in the circle, Eren poured the milk in "Why milk?" "We all start our lives feeding on milk. Now, I need the hair" Handing over the few hairs he'd collected, Eren dropped them in the bowl. Armin a little enthused as he pulled out way too much. Plucking out a few strands, he dropped them in "Now the ink" "What does the ink do?" "It tells me what the answer is" Adding three drops, it hardly looked like anything other than a mess "Now what?" "Now you let me work" The spell worked by reading people, like Historia did when she healed someone. His magic didn't work that way, so he was kind of reading more the intentions of Armin and Erwin. He didn't totally get it, but when he'd tried with Historia and Ymir it'd worked. Gently letting his magic seep into the bowl, the milk and ink began to boil "Eren" "It's fine" Slowly the boiling settled, the ink still swirling. It was all very simple, and made for even the stupidest person to read. A heart if they were meant to be, and a split heart if they weren't, so when it just came back as two separate little circles, Eren was confused "Well?! What does it mean?" "I don't know. I've never seen this before" "Ereeeen" "I don't know... maybe it means you're not meant to be together just get? I mean, there's like two circles... and they're two of you..." "Nooo. You were supposed to tell me" "I'm sorry" Armin sighed dramatically "How will I ever know?" "I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not as good as Historia. She'd be able to do this with her eyes closed" "This means I'll have to ask her" "You still talk to her?" "No... I want to though... I miss Draecia" Sliding the bowl over to Armin, Eren cleaned the table down as he'd said he would. The whole mess dropping it's self in the scrap bucket, as he'd done a proper job of cleaning off everything ever spilt or soaked into the wood "I miss it too, but I told you..." "Yes, yes. Rod lost his shit and we got kicked out" Eren hated having let Armin down. He'd been so hopeful that he'd be able to give his friend good news... He wasn't supposed to write to Historia... but... he couldn't let Armin be broken hearted like this. He wouldn't be responsible for another person he loved being hurt because of his actions. He'd rather take a hundred thousand beatings, than risk pissing Zeke or Rod off. Rod had a whole country of dragons at his disposal, while Zeke had the whole of Marley, and the Marley royal family who'd no doubt seek revenge if anything was to happen to the prince. This being nice and meek thing pissed him off. He was a dragon. He had powers that mages could only dream of... Powers that could erase Rod and Zeke from existence with just the click of his fingers, but it just wasn't worth it... Yet, seeing Armin's pain... he had to do something. Armin deserved love and to be happy. Writing to Historia, Eren erased the tiny royal insignia from the leather pouch of the pigeons leg that would carry his note to Historia. With a little bit of magic on her end, the tiny two inch, by half an inch note would grow to a full standard page. He'd explained everything in it. From the clutch, to being Levi's public lover and then to the compatibility spell. Fuck, he missed her, and Ymir. He missed playing in his dragon form, and chasing those stupid boulders over the hills. More and more people were learning he was a dragon, which meant those less than desirable were bound to find out too. It was even more important that he didn't make any grand shows of his lineage or with his magic, lest he find himself chopped up into tiny pieces... Draecia was now feeling more and more like a dream, and longed to return. Trying his hardest to forget he'd written to Historia, the next few days were spent entertaining Zeke until they left. There were a great number of things he got to see as he walked at Levi's side, but the worst experience was their trip to the theatre. He'd never been to one before, so hadn't expected it to be so boring. The story was weird, jumping all over the place, with random singing that sent him to sleep. He'd been so excited for it, only to fall asleep against Levi. His boyfriend scaring the crap out of him as he shook him awake. It'd been months since he'd had a nightmare about his mother's death, and now he'd had three in the space of 4 nights... none of which were appreciated, and all of which left his magic sparkling in his fingers as he tried to save his mother from her death. Not even having Levi by his side calmed him down, which was unusual. Historia's reply hadn't come until after Zeke and his party had left for Marley. The pigeon landing on the window ledge of the commander's room and cooing until Eren climbed out of bed to let it in. Returning to bed, Levi shuffled closer. His boyfriend nuzzling into his lap as he sleepy wrapped an arm around his waist, while Eren unfurled the small reply, before his heart dropped and his stomach flipped. He had no idea how to deal with the contents of the letter, and could only pray that no one in Zeke's party had intercepted it before he'd had the chance to read it. If Historia was to be believed, he needed to seek Erwin out immediately, for Armin was in danger from outside forces. Well, all of them always were, but that's what the magic reading had said, and Historia would know best. She'd preformed the reading hundreds of times for her and Ymir "Mmm, Eren? Everything ok?" He couldn't just up and leave with Levi cuddled into him "Yeah. It's ok. Go back to sleep" "' smell worried" "I'm fine. Get some more sleep" "'k" Stroking Levi's hair, Eren felt bad over hiding the contents of the letter from his boyfriend, but as it contained information about the curse, he couldn't just show him the slip of paper. Historia was worried that the clutch had come so many weeks before his heat, and felt it was most likely because the spell hadn't worked the way they wanted. He wouldn't know for sure until Levi's rut hit, but she did warn him to be prepared for the worst. He didn't know how he'd deal with everything if the spell didn't hold. He didn't know how to tell Levi he'd done something incredibly desperate and ruined everything for them. He could only pray that it was because he was mostly human that that was why his heat hadn't come. The teen didn't have a chance to speak to Erwin until after breakfast. Slipping the note into Erwin's hand while at breakfast had been an quiet feat. The alpha somewhat perplexed as to why Eren's hand was resting on his leg, until he finally looked down to see the paper. Taking the note, Erwin pocketed it. Eren's heart was racing the whole time, even after he saw that Erwin was making no move to open it. God. It was all so much more complicated than he'd ever imagined it could be. When breakfast ended, Erwin excused himself, only to return a few moments later to ask for Eren's "help". Following the man out the dining room, he was shown into a small office of sorts, his nerves starting to betray his new "there's absolutely nothing wrong with me attitude", especially when Erwin produced the note and waved it in his face "What is this?" "What does it look like?" "Don't test me Eren" "I'm not aiming to. I wasn't going to contact her, but with the clutch and the weird reading..." "You stole my hair?!" "I didn't steal anything. Armin found them on the chair. He's been in love with you, since before I returned. I was trying to be a good friend" "A good friend..." "Yes! God. Do you think I knew you two were related?! Let alone..." Erwin shoved his hand over his mouth "This can't be true. I would know if I had a brother" Raising his right hand, Eren pulled Erwin's hand off his mouth "But would you? Really? Because as far as I remember, it was common practice to send children away to be raised as commoners, where they were safe" Erwin glared at him coldly "The royal advisors never mentioned anything" "It's not my fault. I didn't know either" "Does anyone know about this?!" "What? No. I told Historia I did a test between two friends using their hair and got that result. She doesn't know it was you" "Right..." "I'm serious here. He is my best friend. We grew up together. He's more like a brother than a friend... and he's in love with you" "I don't give a fuck. Did you tell Levi?" "What?" "Don't play stupid with me. Did you tell him?!" "No! Why would I? I didn't know what to do, and I could hardly show him that letter. He has more than enough to worry about" "About your failed spell. I knew..." "You knew what? That I wasn't trust worthy. That's what you're thinking, isn't it? I know better than to run around spreading state secrets, especially with the way things are. So no. You're the only one who's read that, other than me. Armin is your little brother. I don't know if it was by magic, or whatever, but I can't change that" "You're not to tell him. I command you not to tell anyone about the contents of this letter" Eren growled "Stop with the fucking commands! Whenever you're scared, that's what you default to and I'm sick of it" "Know your place..." "My place?! Ha! You and Levi both decided my place needed to be made fucking public, when I was more than happy in the shadows. I've been following your charade and do you know how much pain you've caused Levi!? His whole life is dictated as playing the prince you're too much of a coward to be" "Shut your mouth" "No. I'm doing everything I can for Levi, and all I ask is that you keep Armin close and safe" "What you're doing is hardly good enough" Slapping Erwin, Eren's eyes widened at his own actions. The alpha looked murderous "I... I'm sorry" Pushing past Erwin, Eren ran. He couldn't believe he'd lost his temper, but at the same time, this was Armin's life. His best friend... he'd never thought his reading would turn out like this. He never would have done anything if he'd suspected... how could he have suspected? It wasn't like every blond person in existence was related, and Armin's parents were supposed to have been adventurers who's hot air balloon had crashed. That was why he'd grown up with his grandfather. Had Grandpa Arlert know? And had Armin's mother really been his mother? With magic, a whole new person could be brought forth in the womb of another. Maybe the woman herself hadn't known? But no. Semen and blood were needed... as were highly trained mages. He couldn't fucking breathe. Blind to where he was running, he crashed right into Levi "Eren!" Starting to cough, he half collapsed into his alpha's arms "Eren, what's wrong? Is it your lungs?" Nodding, he felt miserable for lying. Especially when Levi lifted him "You're ok. We'll get you down to the kitchen and get the kettle steaming" Nodding, his lungs continued to protest oxygen. Levi kept him on his lap as Eren breathed in the kettle steam. When the towel was removed, he collapsed back against the man "Eren?" "Better. I panicked, and couldn't breathe" That bit was true "I noticed. Do you know what set it off?" "Yeah, but it's ok. I'm sorry for making a scene" "No. Your lungs aren't your fault... as long as your ok now" Why did Levi have to be so kind? "I'm ok... just a little sleepy" "We'll be leaving soon, do you want to head back home a little earlier?" Eren shook his head, coughing lightly as he curled further into Levi. He had to be ok. He'd had a shock, but he'd covered it with a few carefully constructed words "No. Don't cut your visit short because of me" "We've fulfilled our duties, and honestly, I miss the cleanliness of the castle" "Trust you to miss that. I bet what you really miss is your tea" "You can't be too ill if you can tease me like that" "I'm just sleepy" "I noticed you've been having nightmares" Of course he had... "It's fine. They're old dreams of my mother. I don't know why I've dreamt so much of her of late" "Do you know where she's buried?" "Probably in one of the pit graves of Shinganshima..." It hurt to think of how many people were just piled into them to prevent disease spreading. Each and every one of them deserved a proper funeral, but it wasn't possible. In some cases, who families had been wiped out, so even if there had been a funeral, there was no one left to identify them or to grieve for them "I'm sorry" "It is what it is. I think I just need to take a nap" "I'll come with you. I know these small episodes take a lot out of you" "I'll be fine on my own. Make sure everything here is truly fine before we leave. It'll mean less paper work" Levi nuzzled into his hair, sighing softly as he did "Trust you to be thinking of the kingdom. At least let me take you back to our room" "I'll be fine" "This is for my sake. I can't concentrate if I don't know for sure" Why couldn't he have crashed into someone else?! Not Levi... almost anyone but Levi would have been better than this "Fine, but you need to go to work" "I will" After that, they'd left earlier than scheduled. Erwin was avoiding him, and refused to meet his eye, while Armin was confused as to why he was coming home in the royal carriage with the three of them. On the way back to the castle, Eren practiced locking down his emotions. He went about all his new duties as gracefully as he could, though more than once his mask nearly slipped. He was an unknown element in the lives of those in Eldia. The Prince they so looked up to, was now walking around and sleeping with a scaly freak. Despite how widely he smiled, or how loudly he laughed, most of the population really wasn't sure about him. By the time they reached the castle, he'd hit his limit. Excusing himself and Armin, he dragged his best friend off to his tower, only to find it ransacked. Most likely by a master or two who were still loyal to Marley. Armin insisted they needed to tell the prince out of concern for Eren's safety, yet how could he go running to Levi over something so minor? He'd take one look at the destruction and know straight away that the perpetrator was looking for his clutch. Eren was so fucking tired of conflict. He just wanted Eldia safe. Lying and promising to tell the prince later, he and Armin then spent most of the day cleaning through the tower. The worst of the damage was in his bedroom, though he was lucky they hadn't stolen the gifts Levi had gifted him in Draecia. Well, gifted him after they'd returned from Draecia. Somehow they'd survived everything, and now we're hiding in a small alcove behind the picture frame that hung above his fireplace. Everything Levi gave him was his most precious of possessions, including his tower. If his boyfriend thought he was leaving his safe space, he had another thing coming. Once the tower was clean, Eren cooked a small dinner for himself and Armin, before the pair of them showered and headed up to bed. He didn't even think to lock the door, which lead to a very awkward wake up when Levi found him in bed with Armin. He didn't know who was louder, Levi as he demanded to know what was going on, or, Armin when promptly screamed at the sight of Levi at the end of the bed. Dobbed in by his best friend, Armin had explained how they'd spent the day cleaning the tower after finding it trashed, then both passed out from exhaustion. Never would Eren have guessed Levi would calmly accept Armin's words, then decide he was joining them. That was how Eren found himself sandwiched between Levi and Armin. Armin kind enough to sleep on his back so Eren could cuddle into his, they never would have fitted otherwise. Despite the awkwardness and way Armin was trying not to laugh out of nerves, Eren fell asleep between the pair.

[songofwizardry]

teamwork

part 1 of a motley crew, a series of nine (nein!) ficlets to celebrate the end of critical role campaign 2

(set around episode 18, whispers of war) Nott and Caleb steal from a pawn shop (just like old times), and Nott considers the new things she's learnt about her boy.

i'm doing a series because i'm full of emotions about this campaign ending, and of course I have to start with Caleb and Nott! you can find the fic on ao3, or under the cut.

It was a simple enough job. Get to this pawn shop and see if there was a potentially-enchanted ring in there, maybe steal the shop’s ledger and see if the ring had already been bought. Between the need to Detect Magic and the chance to swipe something shiny, it was a job made for the two of them.

Jester, of course, had offered to come with, talking about distracting the shopkeep with her duplicate. Nott had declined.

She still wasn’t sure why. There was something in her chest every time she’d looked at Caleb since that night, prickling, hurt and angry and sad and fond all at once, and she wanted the chance for it to be just the two of them (Just like old times, ja? Caleb had said as they walked out of the inn, a half-smile on his face) for a little bit.

Now, as they walked through the streets, Nott kept her hood low over her face, her mask on, and her hand in Caleb’s. They were playing the father-and-daughter part again, and Nott allowed herself a smile, because she still found the roles ridiculous.

“Here we are,” Caleb said, squeezing her hand, as they arrived outside the shop.

Nott peered up at the building, careful not to let the hood fall off. The facade may have had a coat of paint once, but it was hard to tell what colour it had been. The windows were boarded up. The door was slightly ajar, but there was no light coming from the inside. “Looks like shit,” she said.

Caleb laughed, a short, quiet chuckle that ended almost as soon as it started. He always laughed like that, Nott was realising. “You are not wrong.” He squeezed her hand again, and Nott squeezed back, feeling the knot of feelings twist tighter in her chest. “Come on.”

Inside, the shop wasn’t much better—a poorly-lit maze of shelves, stocked with a mess of trinkets; a desk where a human woman with a shawl dozed; a large sign reading “NO RETURNS! NO CREDIT!” in barely-legible handwriting.

Nott left the conversation to Caleb and played the part of the curious child, hanging on to his hand and peering around the shelves. It was mostly crap—cheap knickknacks, rusting jewellery. She craned her neck, trying to see the end of the shelf, and there—something that caught the light, glittering.

She turned her attention back to Caleb, who was spinning some story to the shopkeep about how the brooch he held (an illusion) was the last memento of his dead wife. She could feel his hand trembling slightly in her grasp.

“Papa,” she said, pitching her voice even higher than it normally went, “Can we go look over there?”

“Ah—sorry, ma’am, I will be right back, if you do not mind us looking around?” The shopkeep grumbled some sort of agreement, and then Caleb was bending down next to her, saying, “Now, schatz, we can look, but you remember what I said about how we are not buying anything, ja?”

Caleb’s voice was soft, and even though she knew it was just a con, just pretending, Nott wondered if – when – Caleb had been on the other side of this conversation, if this was something his parents had said to him, in a small shop in a small town, and she had to force down a sudden burst of emotion. “Ye-es, papa, I remember,” she said, dragging out the vowels.

She hadn’t ever heard Luc whine, or complain, but she had imagined it plenty of times.

“Okay, good,” Caleb said, smiling, and let her pull him further into the shelves.

The moment they were a little more hidden from the shopkeep, Nott shut her eyes, took a breath, and focused on the job, and not on the complicated mess of emotions lodged in her throat. Her fingers twitched towards her flask, but she was pretending to be a child, and that wouldn’t do. She opened her eyes, and Caleb was watching her, but he didn’t say anything.

“There,” Nott said, softly, pointing towards what had caught her attention—a polished silver ring, missing a few stones, but with a white gem still in the centre. “Is that it, Caleb?”

“Give me a moment,” Caleb said, letting go of her hand. His hands and lips moved in the familiar motions of Detect Magic, and Nott tried not to stare (tried not to think of when, and how, he had learnt to cast this spell, and who had taught him, and if it had hurt—) and scanned the shelves instead, searching for something shiny to distract her.

Just as she’d settled on a strange pocket mirror with an etching of green leaves around the edge, and slipped it into her sleeve, Caleb said, “Ja, I think that is it.”

“Got it,” Nott said, and without her asking, Caleb slipped in front of her, examining a shitty necklace intently and blocking her from view as she dropped the ring into a pocket. She tugged on his hand, and picked up the necklace in his free hand, and led her back towards the counter.

Nott tuned out most of the conversation Caleb had with the shopkeep – selling off the illusionary brooch, complimenting the shitty necklace and paying for it – focusing instead on the weight of the two stolen items in her pockets, and the light, freeing rush of an easy, simple, job.

Within a few minutes, they were back out on the street, still hand-in-hand, and Nott looked up at Caleb, grinning, almost forgetting that she shouldn’t be showing her teeth. “That was easy.”

Caleb gave another one of his half-smiles. “Well, we are a good team.”

“Obviously.”

Caleb was silent for a few more minutes then, as they wound through the streets back towards the inn, and Nott was ready to start distracting herself with pickpocketing a grumpy man who was walking alongside them, when Caleb said, “You have been staring at me a lot recently, my friend.” Nott looked up, but Caleb wasn’t looking at her—he was very intently looking forward. “Is there, ah, something on my face?” he added.

Nott considered all the answers before her. She could lie, and make something ridiculous up, but Caleb would see through that, and that felt rude. But I want to look at you, really look, and make sure you’re here and you’re okay didn’t seem like it would go down well either. She chewed on her lip, opened her mouth, closed it again. Caleb’s hand was shaking in her grasp—not just trembling, but proper tremors, the kind she saw in him more often than she’d like.

“Are you scared?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

At that, Caleb turned to look at her, just for a moment. He shrugged, and turned back to the road. “Always, my friend.” There was something tight in his voice, something that Nott wanted to reach out and soothe, but she didn’t know how.

“You don’t have to be,” she said, and then, realising how stupid that must sound to a person like Caleb, added, “I mean, not with me, you know? I wouldn’t—I mean, I wouldn’t do anything, but, you know that.” She paused a moment to swear in her head at how ridiculous that must have sounded, and then pushed on. “And—I’m only staring because… it’s nice to know you’re here. You know. Still here.” It was only half the truth, but she supposed it was better than none of it.

They were round the corner from the inn now. Caleb, still not looking at her, said, “I, ah, wouldn’t leave you. Not now. Not without—” He shook his head, seemed to give up, and shrugged.

Nott resisted the urge to smile softly, to reach up and ruffle his hair, to roll her eyes in fondness—all things this goblin body didn’t do very well. Instead, she squeezed his hand. “I know,” she said.

Caleb met her eyes, briefly, and smiled, small and fleeting. “Okay, ja. Good.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

🏰⚔️🐲 - DMODT- 31 update. I'm off to bed

Levi had the feeling Eren was keeping something from him. They hadn't been physically intimate since getting drunk together, but he'd expected that. Eren had said he wasn't ready, and Levi respected his omega's needs. No. There was something else that was wrong. The way Eren's smile didn't quite meet his eyes. The way Eren seemed to drift out during conversations, and the way he'd wake with a start and whimper in the middle of the night, only to roll away from him when Levi tried to ask what was wrong. He knew Eren wasn't feeling all that great about the clutch, but this felt as if something else had happened and he had no idea what. The alpha could only think that it had happened while staying at the military barracks, when he'd been forced to talk to Petra about her completely unacceptable behaviour. Petra had been in a position of power while at the port barracks, her words and her actions carried a lot of sway, so when her engagement to him dissolved and he appeared with a new lover, the soldiers had all looked to Eren in disgust... which Petra has encouraged. She'd encouraged them to ignore Eren completely, as he simply Levi's whore. Having heard all about the fight the alpha had had with Mikasa, Levi had thought Petra might pull her head in. Mikasa may have been mad at Eren, but she still loved him, and hadn't taken too kindly to Petra trying to manipulate her against the teen. Petra hadn't appreciated being talked to in such a manor by Mikasa, and it'd very nearly turned into a sword fight over Eren's honour. Levi had been mid conversation when a scratch had appeared on his cheek, Eren's magic had healed it the moment it appeared, and when he'd asked Eren, Eren had said he'd punched himself in the face as he'd pulled the blankets. Which was honestly a very Eren thing to do... yet... What if it hadn't been? The stomach ache that had felt like a knife to his gut, he blamed on possible lasting cramping from after the birth... but once again, what if it hadn't been? He didn't want to mention the cramping, in case he upset Eren over the clutch, or in case it was related to Eren's coming heat. Now that they were on their way back home, he really felt as if he should have. He was sure the moment had passed, and he'd been left behind. The matter weighed heavily on Levi's mind as he carried out his duties. Erwin had organised a series of visits for them, and even a trip to the theatre to see some play that hadn't made a lick of sense to him. Eren had played his part beautifully on Levi's arm. The teen smiled, waved and was polite to everyone who spoke to them. Levi very much the proud alpha as his omega did, yet none of it felt right. When Eren fell asleep on his shoulder at the theatre, the teen had flinched and jumped away when Levi shook him awake. Mumbling out an apology, Eren moved to sink into his side, with a clear stiffness in his form. Maybe this was all too much too fast? He'd grown used to the pageantry of royalty and aristocracy, but Eren hadn't. He'd spent his crucial years in a sanctuary, then spent most of his time at the castle studying, before leaving to live with dragons. He hadn't had manners drilled into him, or every aspect of high society interactions. Talking to Erwin, they agreed he needed some form of lessons. At least in dancing, and dining. If Eren could hold his head high for both those tasks, than everything else could be covered. It was also decided that Armin would return home with them, Mikasa and her squad to return after all their duties were transferred back to Petra and her squad, though he'd promoted squad member Eld to leader, in a petty move to punish Petra for her pettiness. Whatever was going on with Eren, he could only pray that the teen would either break down completely, or open up and dump everything on him, as at the moment, it hurt to watch him silently suffering. * After Eren's run in with Zeke, he'd forced himself back together and reassigned himself his original self gifted mission of finding Armin. Again he'd walked through the barracks, and again he'd found himself ignored... until he finally found a semi-familiar face. He could never forget horsefaced Jean, his beard had made him somewhat better looking, but in Eren's eyes, he was still a braying arse... so, he turned his attention to Sasha. Smiling the best he could, he jogged over to the pair who engaged in conversation with their friend Connie. He liked Connie. Connie managed to always ruin his own arguments over how smart he was, yet it wasn't in an obnoxious way. It was because he was always talking big and bolstering his own ego, that he pushed himself much harder than most people. Reaching them, Sasha gave a bow with a giggle "Your majesty" "I'm not the prince" Giving him a wide grin, Sasha nodded "I know, but you're like sleeping with him... which means you can get me more food, right?" Snorting, Eren shook his head "I doubt I have any kind of power there, but I can ask" Jean crossed his arms with a huff "I don't know what he sees in you, and those freaky scales" "I'd rather my scales than your horseface. Sasha, have you seen Armin?" Sasha hummed, raising her hand to her chin as she tapped her jawline with her pointer finger "I think he was in the kitchens with Mikasa. All the meals have to be triple checked... I don't know why they wouldn't let me do it..." "Probably because you'd eat the whole meal" "I joined the military to eat new and yummy foods... but it's always rations. When are we going to get meat!?" Sasha was practically drooling "Sasha, can you show me to the kitchen's, please? I have no idea how everyone finds their way around here" "We're not your soldiers. We didn't agree to give our lives for you" Eren raised an eyebrow at Jean, reminding himself he needed to be strong and couldn't show any possible kind of weakness "I'm not asking you to give your lives, I was asking Sasha if she could please help me find the kitchen" "Will there be food?" Was it so hard to do one small favour?" "I can ask" Sasha grabbed his arm, Eren forcing himself not to tear it out of her hold. Sasha wasn't about to beat the shit out of him just to make herself feel better "You're the best!" The cook refused to give Sasha extra food, as she was man handled out the kitchen. It was a rather comical sight as she clung to the steamed potato she'd stolen. Sitting at the kitchen table, Armin brightened at the sight of him "Eren, come sit with me" Ignoring the unhappy cooks, Eren did just that. Armin seemed so very happy "Did everything go well with Levi last night?" "You have no idea. After what happened with Mikasa, Levi walked both of us home. He stayed for tea" "The way you make it sound, it sounds like there was more than tea" Armin blushed "It wasn't like that. We talked about all sorts of things, until we both realised we talked all night" "Oh, Armin. I'm so happy for you" "I... I have some of his hair. I found it once he left, on the back of the chair that is. I didn't just take it. You can do a test right? With some of his hair?" "How do you know it's not yours? You're both blond" "I don't... but no one else in the house has blond hair. It... won't cause an explosion, will it?" The twinkle in Armin's eyes was filled with hope "No. But I do need a few things for it to work" Armin let out a kind of muffled squeak, before taking a deep breath "What do you need?" "A bowl of milk. Some blue ink, and a piece of chalk. As well as some of your hair and his" "That's all? No crystals or herbs?" "If I was using Eldia magic, it would be a whole lot more complicated. Historia taught me this, because she thought I could use it to make money if living at the castle didn't work out" "Really?" "I didn't know if I'd be allowed to come back, or even move back in. Now, do you think you get everything?" "I have chalk and inks in my bag... I just need a bowl of milk" "Do I want to know why you have chalk and ink?" "Sometimes you have to draw out things for dock workers to understand. Not all of them can read, then you need the ink because you have to fix the invoices" "Armin, I was joking. You need to calm down. We don't know the outcome. It could say anything" It was also a little bit late to be wondering if Erwin had any spells on him like the ones Eren placed on Levi. Though his were prayers, and Eren's healing came through the brooch his boyfriend wore, and their bond. But if there was something in place, it should have been activated when Obsydin infected him... "Don't say that. Eren, he's so smart. He has so many ideas of how to improve things..." "Ok. Ok. I know. I just don't want you to be hurt" "How accurate is this?" "Fairly. Most of the time. Things can affect it, like your friend dying of old age before you get me everything I need" The cook didn't want them messing up her table, but Eren promised to clean it with magic. Drawing a medium sized circle in front of them, he drew a small series of symbols inside of it "What's that?" "Purely decorative" Armin elbowed him "Then why are you drawing them?" "Because I'm teasing you. I only need the outside circle" Armin pouted at him, holding out his hand until Eren returned the chalk. Placing the bowl in the circle, Eren poured the milk in "Why milk?" "We all start our lives feeding on milk. Now, I need the hair" Handing over the few hairs he'd collected, Eren dropped them in the bowl. Armin a little enthused as he pulled out way too much. Plucking out a few strands, he dropped them in "Now the ink" "What does the ink do?" "It tells me what the answer is" Adding three drops, it hardly looked like anything other than a mess "Now what?" "Now you let me work" The spell worked by reading people, like Historia did when she healed someone. His magic didn't work that way, so he was kind of reading more the intentions of Armin and Erwin. He didn't totally get it, but when he'd tried with Historia and Ymir it'd worked. Gently letting his magic seep into the bowl, the milk and ink began to boil "Eren" "It's fine" Slowly the boiling settled, the ink still swirling. It was all very simple, and made for even the stupidest person to read. A heart if they were meant to be, and a split heart if they weren't, so when it just came back as two separate little circles, Eren was confused "Well?! What does it mean?" "I don't know. I've never seen this before" "Ereeeen" "I don't know... maybe it means you're not meant to be together just get? I mean, there's like two circles... and they're two of you..." "Nooo. You were supposed to tell me" "I'm sorry" Armin sighed dramatically "How will I ever know?" "I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not as good as Historia. She'd be able to do this with her eyes closed" "This means I'll have to ask her" "You still talk to her?" "No... I want to though... I miss Draecia" Sliding the bowl over to Armin, Eren cleaned the table down as he'd said he would. The whole mess dropping it's self in the scrap bucket, as he'd done a proper job of cleaning off everything ever spilt or soaked into the wood "I miss it too, but I told you..." "Yes, yes. Rod lost his shit and we got kicked out" Eren hated having let Armin down. He'd been so hopeful that he'd be able to give his friend good news... He wasn't supposed to write to Historia... but... he couldn't let Armin be broken hearted like this. He wouldn't be responsible for another person he loved being hurt because of his actions. He'd rather take a hundred thousand beatings, than risk pissing Zeke or Rod off. Rod had a whole country of dragons at his disposal, while Zeke had the whole of Marley, and the Marley royal family who'd no doubt seek revenge if anything was to happen to the prince. This being nice and meek thing pissed him off. He was a dragon. He had powers that mages could only dream of... Powers that could erase Rod and Zeke from existence with just the click of his fingers, but it just wasn't worth it... Yet, seeing Armin's pain... he had to do something. Armin deserved love and to be happy. Writing to Historia, Eren erased the tiny royal insignia from the leather pouch of the pigeons leg that would carry his note to Historia. With a little bit of magic on her end, the tiny two inch, by half an inch note would grow to a full standard page. He'd explained everything in it. From the clutch, to being Levi's public lover and then to the compatibility spell. Fuck, he missed her, and Ymir. He missed playing in his dragon form, and chasing those stupid boulders over the hills. More and more people were learning he was a dragon, which meant those less than desirable were bound to find out too. It was even more important that he didn't make any grand shows of his lineage or with his magic, lest he find himself chopped up into tiny pieces... Draecia was now feeling more and more like a dream, and longed to return. Trying his hardest to forget he'd written to Historia, the next few days were spent entertaining Zeke until they left. There were a great number of things he got to see as he walked at Levi's side, but the worst experience was their trip to the theatre. He'd never been to one before, so hadn't expected it to be so boring. The story was weird, jumping all over the place, with random singing that sent him to sleep. He'd been so excited for it, only to fall asleep against Levi. His boyfriend scaring the crap out of him as he shook him awake. It'd been months since he'd had a nightmare about his mother's death, and now he'd had three in the space of 4 nights... none of which were appreciated, and all of which left his magic sparkling in his fingers as he tried to save his mother from her death. Not even having Levi by his side calmed him down, which was unusual. Historia's reply hadn't come until after Zeke and his party had left for Marley. The pigeon landing on the window ledge of the commander's room and cooing until Eren climbed out of bed to let it in. Returning to bed, Levi shuffled closer. His boyfriend nuzzling into his lap as he sleepy wrapped an arm around his waist, while Eren unfurled the small reply, before his heart dropped and his stomach flipped. He had no idea how to deal with the contents of the letter, and could only pray that no one in Zeke's party had intercepted it before he'd had the chance to read it. If Historia was to be believed, he needed to see Erwin out immediately, for Armin was in danger... at least that's what the magic reading had said.