#the hand of the giant and the heart of the brave / must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave!

[lotrmusical]

never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

[foursaints]

sort of a controversial opinion but i want to start seeing peter pettigrew included in aesthetic edits about the death eater squad & their vengeful pureblood decadence

[lumi-waxes-poetic]

The Wanderer: an Old English Poem

Often the solitary one experiences mercy for himself,

the mercy of the Measurer, although he, troubled in spirit,

over the ocean must long

stir with his hands the rime-cold sea,

travel the paths of exile – Fate is inexorable.”

So said the wanderer, mindful of hardships,

of cruel deadly combats, the fall of dear kinsmen –

“Often alone each morning I must

Bewail my sorrow; there is now none living

to whom I dare tell clearly my inmost thoughts.

I know indeed that it is a noble custom in a man

to bind fast his thoughts with restraint,

hold his treasure-chest, think what he will.

The man weary in spirit cannot withstand fate,

nor may the troubled mind offer help.

Therefore those eager for praise often bind a sad mind

in their breast-coffer with restraint.

So I, miserably sad, separated from homeland,

far from my noble kin, had to bind my thoughts with fetters,

since that long ago the darkness of the earth

covered my gold-friend, and I, abject,

proceeded thence, winter-sad, over the binding of the waves.

Sad, I sought the hall of a giver of treasure,

Where I might find, far or near,

one who in the meadhall might know about my people,

or might wish to comfort me, friendless,

entertain with delights.

He knows who experiences it

how cruel care is as a companion,

to him who has few beloved protectors.

The path of exile awaits him, not twisted gold,

frozen feelings, not earth’s glory.

he remembers retainers and the receiving of treasure,

how in youth his gold-friend

accustomed him to the feast. But all pleasure has failed.

Indeed he knows who must for a long time do without

the counsels of his beloved lord

when sorrow and sleep together

often bind the wretched solitary man–

he thinks in his heart that he

embraces and kisses his lord, and lays

hands and head on his knee, just as he once at times

in former days, enjoyed the gift-giving.

Then the friendless man awakes again,

sees before him the dusky waves,

the seabirds bathing, spreading their wings,

frost and snow fall, mingled with hail.

Then are his heart’s wounds the heavier because of that,

sore with longing for a loved one. Sorrow is renewed

when the memory of kinsmen passes through his mind;

he greets with signs of joy, eagerly surveys

his companions, warriors. They swim away again.

The spirit of the floating ones never brings there many familiar utterances.

Care is renewed for the one who must very often send

his weary spirit over the binding of the waves,

Therefore I cannot think why throughout the world

my mind should not grow dark

when I contemplate all the life of men,

how they suddenly left the hall floor,

brave young retainers. So this middle-earth fails and falls each day;

therefore a man may not become wise before he owns a share of winters in the kingdom of this world.

A wise man must be patient,

nor must he ever be too hot tempered, nor too hasty of speech,

nor too weak in battles, nor too heedless,

nor too fearful, nor too cheerful, nor too greedy for wealth,

nor ever too eager for boasting before he knows for certain.

A man must wait, when he speaks a boast,

until, stout-hearted, he knows for certain

whither the thought of the heart may wish to turn.

The prudent man must realize how ghastly it will be

when all the wealth of this world stands waste,

as now variously throughout this middle-earth

walls stand beaten by the wind,

covered with rime, snow-covered the dwellings.

The wine-halls go to ruin, the rulers lie

deprived of joy, the host has all perished proud by the wall.

Some war took, carried on the way forth; one a bird carried off

over the high sea; one the gray wolf shared

with Death; one a sad-faced nobleman

buried in an earth-pit.

So the Creator of men laid waste this region,

until the ancient world of giants, lacking the noises

of the citizens, stood idle.

He who deeply contemplates this wall-stead,

and this dark life with wise thought,

old in spirit, often remembers long ago,

a multitude of battles, and speaks these words:

“Where is the horse? Where is the young warrior? Where is the giver of treasure?

Where are the seats of the banquets? Where are the joys in the hall?

Alas the bright cup! Alas the mailed warrior!

Alas the glory of the prince! How the time has gone,

vanished under night’s helm, as if it never were!

Now in place of a beloved host stands

a wall wondrously high, decorated with the likenesses of serpents.

The powers of spears took the noblemen,

weapons greedy for slaughter; fate the renowned,

and storms beat against these rocky slopes,

falling snowstorm binds the earth,

the noise of winter, then the dark comes.

The shadow of night grows dark, sends from the north

a rough shower of hail in enmity to the warriors.

All the kingdom of earth is full of trouble,

the operation of the fates changes the world under the heavens.

Here wealth is transitory, here friend is transitory,

here man is transitory, here woman is transitory,

this whole foundation of the earth becomes empty."

So spoke the wise in spirit, sat by himself in private meditation.

"He who is good keeps his pledge, nor shall the man ever manifest

the anger of his breast too quickly, unless he, the man,

should know beforehand how to accomplish the remedy with courage.

It will be well for him who seeks grace,

comfort from the Father in the heavens,

where a fastness stands for us all."

[gwydionmisha]

Song of the Worm Cook, Eliza

THE worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave.

Daughters of earth, if I happen to meet Your bloom-plucking fingers and sod-treading feet-- Oh! turn not away with the shriek of disgust From the thing you must mate with in darkness and dust. Your eyes may be flashing in pleasure and pride, 'Neath the crown of a Queen or the wreath of a bride; Your lips may be fresh and your cheeks may be fair-- Let a few years pass over, and I shall be there.

Cities of splendour, where palace and gate, Where the marble of strength and the purple of state; Where the mart and arena, the olive and vine, Once flourished in glory; oh! are ye not mine? Go look for famed Carthage, and I shall be found In the desolate ruin and weed-covered mound; And the slime of my trailing discovers my home, 'Mid the pillars of Tyre and the temples of Rome.

I am sacredly sheltered and daintily fed Where the velvet bedecks, and the white lawn is spread; I may feast undisturbed, I may dwell and carouse On the sweetest of lips and the smoothest of brows. The voice of the sexton, the chink of the spade, Sound merrily under the willow's dank shade. They are carnival notes, and I travel with glee To learn what the churchyard has given to me.

Oh! the worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain, For where monarchs are voiceless I revel and reign; I delve at my ease and regale where I may; None dispute with the worm in his will or his way. The high and the bright for my feasting must fall-- Youth, Beauty, and Manhood, I prey on ye all: The Prince and the peasant, the despot and slave; All, all must bow down to the worm and the grave.

[thesquireinvictus]

THE worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave. Daughters of earth, if I happen to meet Your bloom-plucking fingers and sod-treading feet-- Oh! turn not away with the shriek of disgust From the thing you must mate with in darkness and dust. Your eyes may be flashing in pleasure and pride, 'Neath the crown of a Queen or the wreath of a bride; Your lips may be fresh and your cheeks may be fair-- Let a few years pass over, and I shall be there. Cities of splendour, where palace and gate, Where the marble of strength and the purple of state; Where the mart and arena, the olive and vine, Once flourished in glory; oh! are ye not mine? Go look for famed Carthage, and I shall be found In the desolate ruin and weed-covered mound; And the slime of my trailing discovers my home, 'Mid the pillars of Tyre and the temples of Rome. I am sacredly sheltered and daintily fed Where the velvet bedecks, and the white lawn is spread; I may feast undisturbed, I may dwell and carouse On the sweetest of lips and the smoothest of brows. The voice of the sexton, the chink of the spade, Sound merrily under the willow's dank shade. They are carnival notes, and I travel with glee To learn what the churchyard has given to me. Oh! the worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain, For where monarchs are voiceless I revel and reign; I delve at my ease and regale where I may; None dispute with the worm in his will or his way. The high and the bright for my feasting must fall-- Youth, Beauty, and Manhood, I prey on ye all: The Prince and the peasant, the despot and slave; All, all must bow down to the worm and the grave.

Song of the Worm, Eliza Cook (1818-1889)

[daffenger]

The worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave. [...]

Song of the Worm, Eliza Cook (1869) (full text here)

[25centsoda]

Poem: Song of the Worm Author: Cook, Eliza (1818 - 1889)

First stanza:

The worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave.

I’m learning about worms.

[roscommon-2-rhodes]

Song of the Worm

The worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave.

Daughters of earth, if I happen to meet Your bloom-plucking fingers and sod-treading feet-- Oh! turn not away with the shriek of disgust From the thing you must mate with in darkness and dust. Your eyes may be flashing in pleasure and pride, 'Neath the crown of a Queen or the wreath of a bride; Your lips may be fresh and your cheeks may be fair-- Let a few years pass over, and I shall be there.

Cities of splendour, where palace and gate, Where the marble of strength and the purple of state; Where the mart and arena, the olive and vine, Once flourished in glory; oh! are ye not mine? Go look for famed Carthage, and I shall be found In the desolate ruin and weed-covered mound; And the slime of my trailing discovers my home, 'Mid the pillars of Tyre and the temples of Rome.

I am sacredly sheltered and daintily fed Where the velvet bedecks, and the white lawn is spread; I may feast undisturbed, I may dwell and carouse On the sweetest of lips and the smoothest of brows. The voice of the sexton, the chink of the spade, Sound merrily under the willow's dank shade. They are carnival notes, and I travel with glee To learn what the churchyard has given to me.

Oh! the worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain, For where monarchs are voiceless I revel and reign; I delve at my ease and regale where I may; None dispute with the worm in his will or his way. The high and the bright for my feasting must fall-- Youth, Beauty, and Manhood, I prey on ye all: The Prince and the peasant, the despot and slave; All, all must bow down to the worm and the grave.

-Eliza Cook (1818-1889)

The Poetical Works of Eliza Cook (London: Frederick Warne and Co., [1869]): 181-82.

[berrydoodleoo]

If Ignis were himself, he would no doubt have counseled them against the trip, or at least proposed some kind of clever work around. Gladio would have loomed and grumbled, and then would have been the first to bow at Luna’s bedside with some courtly, if gruff, remark. But of course, Ignis wasn’t himself, and really, neither was Gladio. And Noctis knew it was all his fault.

But Prompto was insistent, and he was trying so hard to be himself and keep things light. He'd taken over Iggy’s duties of cooking and planning their trip, and still found time and energy to help Ignis activate the handicap settings on his phone while keeping up a steady stream of light-hearted chatter. Not to mention visiting Luna and helping out with the rescue and relief efforts. It was like watching someone do a ballet in a field full of giant boulders – three of which were named Ignis, Noctis, and Gladiolus – he just kept moving, kept dancing, and you almost couldn’t see the toll it was taking on him.

Almost.

So Prompto brought up visiting Luna’s hospital room again, as-if casually, mentioning that he’d had word from Weskham as to where she was currently hidden, and that he was sure he could get them in without being noticed by Imperial spies. And besides, Pryna had licked his hand when he’d visited last, which probably meant that Luna was going to wake up soon, any day now, and wouldn’t it be something if she woke up while Noct was there? A kiss from Prince Charming, eh?

Gladio had snorted, an ugly, mocking sound, and Prompto had stuttered to a halt, with an expression like his heart was breaking. Ignis had averted his face, just slightly. Shutting the whole world out. And Noctis had dredged up a voice (his own? someone else’s?) from the vise clamping his chest and said sure, Prom, let’s go.

And so they did.

Traveling the streets of devastated Altissia in Lucian royal black was probably unwise, but Prompto seemed to exude a notice-me-not aura that, in conjunction with the chaos still gripping the city, was enough to let them travel unmolested. They kept to the areas packed with refugees where possible, where everyone had their eyes glued to the screens announcing ferries and how long the current wait lists were (some were hours, most were days) instead of at each other. It did nothing for his nerves, which were a constant jangle, but at least no one stopped them. Or worse, shouted, hey, Prince Noctis!

The hospital was mostly intact, at least from the outside. Upon entering, it became clear that it had suffered a beating, either from Leviathan or the Imperial forces. The first level was still flooded, the polished marble turned treacherous by a thin layer of mud. The smell of mold competed with the smell of hospital bleach, and Noctis almost gagged.

There was a crowd here, too, too many people to fit in the emergency room reserved for the most critical cases. Noctis stood aside as Prompto shuffled about, standing on his toes, trying to find the best way forward without attracting too much attention.

A little kid with a bloody rag tied to his forehead stared at them. Noctis met his eyes and then regretted it, trying to look away and act casual. When he glanced up, the kid had wandered from his sleeping mother to stand beside them, still staring silently.

Prompto almost collided with the kid, and then did a double-take. “Hey!” he exclaimed quietly, and he sounded happy. “Stanford, my man!” He crouched, careful to keep the edges of his jacket out of the water. “How you doin’? Still waiting for a doctor, huh?”

Stanford – he must have been a few years younger than Talcott, too young to be so injured and haunted-looking – nodded, popping his filthy thumb into his mouth.

“Can I take a look, dude?” Prompto asked, gentle, touching the bandage on the child’s head. He nodded again.

It made Noctis’ eyes water, seeing how gentle Prompto was with the kid. He unwound the bandage and checked the wound beneath – the sight made Noctis wince – and produced some wrapped bandages and antiseptic wipes seemingly from his pocket (Noct felt the tug that meant they’d really come from the Armiger). He talked the whole time – man, those are cool shoes, I love chocobos, and how old are you again, dude? like, sixteen, right? or seventeen, you’re in high school, right – trying to coax some words out of him. Stanford was clearly listening, half-smiling at Prompto’s jokes, but was otherwise unresponsive.

He submitted to the cleaning with only a little tearyness. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t about anything Prompto had said.

“Do you have more magic potions?” he asked hopefully.

Prompto winced, shooting a quick glance at Noct. They’d agreed early on not to share their potions with people – it was too easy to trace them back to Noct, and Ignis was always concerned they would run out at the worst possible moment (which, to be fair, they had done so more than once).

“Not at the moment, little dude,” Prompto was jittering, hurrying to finish wrapping the bandage, “but uh, maybe later, I can, uh–”

Noctis reached into his back pocket and summoned a potion from the Armiger, the same trick Prompto had just pulled. It was weak – he just hadn’t been able to summon the magic for a proper Elixir once it was clear they wouldn’t help Ignis’ eyes – but it would help ward off infection and help with pain management. For a little while.

Stanford’s eyes lit up, and he started to snatch the glowing bottle from Noct’s hand. But then he hesitated. “For – for me?” he asked, staring up at Noct with the hugest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Yeah.” Noct tried to smile for him, extending the potion a bit further. “Of course.”

Stanford accepted the bottle, hugging it to his chest as if were a precious treasure. Now his eyes glowed with happiness, watching Noct, and he stood obediently still as Prompto finished retying the headband that kept his bandage in place. “Can I share it with my mom?” he eventually asked.

Noctis glanced at the sleeping woman, and wondered what was wrong with her. Was she injured, too, or just exhausted? “Yeah,” he said again. “Just don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

Would the woman even accept it, if her son told her he had a magic potion from a strange man? Well, maybe she would assume it came from a doctor, or that it was still the harmless bottle of (Noctis checked) apple juice it had started out as. Albeit glowing apple juice. Well, marketing, right? Maybe it wouldn’t seem too weird.

It was Stanford’s to do with as he chose. If he wanted to give it to his mom, or a total stranger, or pour it down the drain, Noctis wouldn’t stop him. He just didn’t have the energy.

Stanford’s eyes went even wider, but he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said.

Brave little man. Noctis tried to smile for him again, moved his lips in the familiar gesture, and the kid tried to smile in return. If his own forced smile made him look as sad as Stanford’s did, Noctis mused, then it was no wonder people kept flinching away at the sight.

~

They found an un-monitored stairwell, the door blocked off with yellow tape. It quickly became clear as to why it was locked down – some tree branches and half a gondola were poking through the battered walls, tossed through marble and concrete by Leviathan’s rage. Worse, there were puddles of slimy water everywhere.

Prompto kept ahold on Noct’s arm – Noct realized he’d been doing that since they left their borrowed refuge in the Secretary’s home, as if Noct would drift away without the anchor – as they made their way up the stairs. “I don’t think he’s gonna keep it a secret, man.”

Noct had to blink himself back to the present. “Huh?”

“Stanford. With the potion.”

Noct shrugged. “Didn’t get the impression he was talking much.”

“Noct…”

“It’s not a big deal. We’ll be out of here soon.”

Prompto seemed deflated, guiding him up the stairs. “Yeah.”

Noct let himself be led. What did Prompto expect him to say? Maybe he wanted Noct to go back down the stairs and offer to help everyone else in the room. Give out their store of potions, grab some bottles of water and start enchanting those, too. Act like a king for once, instead of piece of luggage that had to be carted to and fro by people smarter and more capable.

“I just feel bad, you know?” Prompto said, his voice echoing a bit in the humid, smelly space. “I’ve never done anything to deserve you guys – traveling with you guys, using your magic, seeing the gods, I – I don’t deserve any of this – this magic, this specialness, I’m just –” He swallowed. “And then there’s kids like Stanford, and man, I just don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything.”

Noctis let his arm slide through Prompto’s grip until he could squeeze his hand. They paused, side-by-side as they sidled around a piece of crushed stairwell, and Prompto squeezed back. Hard.

~

Noct started feeling floaty once they left the stairwell. Parts of this floor were still in use, despite the damage and the flickering lights. But Prompto knew the way, avoiding the lighted areas, and led him to a dark hallway behind more yellow tape.

Noct felt his steps slowing. He and Prompto’s arms, connected by their held hands, stretched like a rope between two ships tugged in opposite directions. They reached a door, Prompto produced a key, and Noct thought he might faint. He pulled free of Prompto’s grip to lean against the wall, heart laboring, spots filling his vision.

Luna. Luna was on the other side. Once he saw her, it would all be real.

He needed more time. Time to get ready, time to be better, time to be the King she believed he was. All he could picture was her face – somewhere between the child he’d known and the woman he’d seen in official broadcasts – crumpling in disappointment, and the fact that it hadn’t happened (yet) did nothing to lessen the pain. Gods. Gods. He couldn’t do this. More time—

Prompto’s face appeared, looking worried and frantic, and then Noct was being hauled into the unlocked room despite his sluggish limbs. He heard the door shut behind them, closing them in safely. And when he opened his eyes, he was in Luna’s hospital room.

“Dude,” Prompto was whispering. “Breathe.”

Noct nodded.

“Breathe. Breathe.” Prompto pressed a quick, awkward kiss to his forehead. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Noct breathed, or tried to breathe. When he opened his eyes, he could see Luna in her hospital bed, traced in appallingly bright sunshine, and he swayed again. Prompto caught him, held him up, held him in place. Just held him, really.

For a minute, he had the inane thought that Clarus and Gladio were on the other side of the door, and if they came in they would see Noct snuggling with Prompto and the game would be up. And then he remembered that Clarus was dead, that Gladio wanted nothing to do with him, and that this wasn’t his father’s hospital room, after the stroke that nearly claimed his life a year ago. Something about the smell, the beeping, the seafoam green of the curtains and blankets, must have taken him back. And his dad was dead, anyway, dead like Clarus, dead like Ignis almost was, dead like Luna almost is….

“I can’t do this,” Noct whispered, when Prompto backed off to give him a little space.

Ignis would have said, yes you can, Highness. Majesty. Gladio would have said, don’t give me that crap, you’re gonna do your duty if it kills us both. Luna would have said, none of us know what we can do until we do it, or fail trying. But I do believe in you, Noctis.

Prompto just whispered, “I know, man.” Noctis met his eyes, briefly, and the love and sorrow there stole his breath. “That’s why I’m here to help.”

Noctis glanced back, thinking of escape, about making excuses and stepping out, running away, back to the Secretary’s house and the room where Ignis and Gladio tip-toed around each other and the smothering silence. And then he swallowed, and squeezed Prompto’s hand, and nodded, meeting his eyes one more time.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Prompto led him forward, into the light.

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 3-Where Loyalties Lie

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Potter!Reader

Summary: A forbidden romance is betrayed when the very dark wizard who is out to kill you is your lovers master...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie​​​ @drewswannabegirl​​ @teamnick​​ @jiaraendgame​​ @agirlwholovescoffee​​​ @outerbongs​​ @jaxxandcomet​​ @velyssaraptor​​ @baby-pogue​​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​​ @kaitieskidmore1​​ @ma10427​​ @ifilwtmfc​​ @lasnaro​​ @justcallmesams​​ @judayyyw​​ @lonely-kermit​​ @gviosca​​ @iamaunicorn4704​​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​​ @fernweh-fangirl​​ @runway-to-my-aid​​ @eb15​​ @hurricane-abigail​​ @tangledinsparkles​​ @amanda-rotigliano​​ @hxfflxpxffs​​ @bannerbubble​​ @hybridfamily​​ @coldlilheart​​  @fandom-phaser​​ @sunwardsss​​ @http-cherries​​ @bibliophilewednesday​​ @evaporatedrosepetals​​ @thetomatosaucee​​ @tomatosauceagent​​ @redosmo​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​​ @obx-direction-sos​​ @they-reblog-once-in-a-blue-moon​​ @iraniq​​ @nekee-lilac02​​ @gracielou0518​​​ @aplaintart​​​ @wollymalfoy​ @thefandomplace​ @poguestyleskye​ @butterflydior​​ 

Part 2

Note: I’m so happy for the love and support you all have given me! Thank you for 500 new friends, I am grateful for each and every one of you! I can’t wait to put out more stuff for you guys! 

Would anyone like for me to continue the series for how Draco and y/n raise Scorpius and go through the trials of parenthood? Maybe even include their wedding and wedding night😛...let me know in the comments or message me!

================================

Draco pushed me into the main room, his family eyeing me now. I spotted Hermione on the ground, I went to move towards her. I was stopped by an unspeakable pain, a screech left my throat as I fell just feet from her.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouted, waving her wand at me again.

I convulsed on the floor, screaming as the pain shot from my head to my feet. I rolled to my side, heavily breathing. I scooted to Hermione, her hand barely mustering the energy to hold mine. 

“Since this filthy Mudblood won’t talk, perhaps you will Potter. Where did you get the sword?” she seethed.

“Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” I panted.

“Draco! Your wand at the ready, torture this disgusting Halfblood until she admits her faults.” Bellatrix commanded.

“She said she doesn’t know, maybe they’re telling the truth for once.” Draco answered, trying to hide his fear.

“Either you do it, or your father kills them.” Bellatrix hissed, Draco’s face going pale. 

They cleared to the other side of the room, leaving just Draco and I with Hermione limp on the floor. Tears started to leak from his eyes, my heart shattered. His hand shook that held his wand, bending his head to let out a sob.

“It’s ok, do what they say.” I spoke, Draco shaking his head.

“I can’t, I can’t do it.” he sobbed, fervently shaking his head.

“Draco please! It’s the only way we’re getting out of here!” I pleaded.

“What is the meaning of this Draco!? Do it!” Lucius boomed, Draco still sobbing.

“I can’t hurt the girl I love!” Draco shouted, his family gasping. 

“You cannot be serious!” Lucius shouted, Hermione’s grip on my hand tightened.

“Fine, if you cannot man up to the task...CRUCIO!” Bellatrix shouted, repeating the spell over and over.

Draco tried to come to my aid, but his father fought to hold him back. He cried as he watched me suffer one of the three Unforgivable Curses, shouting my name as I screamed in pain. I couldn’t even put into words what the pain felt like, an excruciating void of unending beats was the best way to put it. 

I tried to reach out for Draco as blood started to fall from my ears and mouth, him trying to do the same with the restriction of his father.

“Please Bella! Stop, please!” Draco yelled, falling to his knees as Lucius scrapped to get a hold of him. 

“That’s enough Bella,” Narcissa spoke, pulling on her sister’s arm.

“Consider yourself lucky you belong to the Dark Lord Potter. For your friend, I can’t say the same.” Bellatrix sighed.

There was a sudden commotion as Harry and Ron burst into the room, firing off spells. Draco pretended to drop one of ours, rolling it my way. I fired one at Lucius, knocking him several feet away. It was a struggle trying to get up, only to be snatched by Narcissa, my muscles too weak to fight back. Bellatrix held a knife to Hermione’s throat, Harry and Ron dropping their wands at her command. 

I looked at Draco, his eyes wide with worry. There was a squeaking sound from above us, looking to see Dobby unhinging the chandelier. It came crashing down, giving enough distraction for Hermione and I to break free. I launched myself at Harry, he held me close as we all huddled to apparate out. I took one last look at Draco, he mouthed those three little words. I mouthed them back, tears shining as we apparated away.

===============================

Harry was headed to the Ravenclaw common room to find the Grey Lady, while I tried to make the Room of Requirement pop up. Just when I was about to give up, I heard creaking behind me, turning to find the Room of Requirement. Harry appeared next to me, dragging me with him. 

We looked around the disastrous area for what felt like hours, clapping my hands over my ears when I heard the telling sound of the Horcrux’s. I whipped around to find Harry holding the tiara that belonged to the Helena. Just as I reached him, a voice I knew all too well sounded in the room.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here. What brings you two here?” Draco taunted, Crab and Goyle holding their wands at us as Draco did. 

“I could ask you the same,” Harry answered, tugging on my wrist so that I was behind him.

“You have something of mine,” Draco spat, eyeing me before looking back to my brother.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix? You knew it was me, and you didn’t say anything.” Harry asked, tilting his head.

“I would never hurt her,” Draco whispered, the other two Slytherin’s giving him a confused look.

“If you truly loved her-” Harry hissed, now my turn to grab his arm to pull him back.

“Harry!” I exclaimed as they all held their wands higher, at the ready to fire at us.

“Don’t be a prat Draco, do it!” Goyle seethed, Draco gulped before moving his eyes to meet mine.

In a split second, I whipped my wand out. Firing at Draco, disarming him. He turned and ran as his friends continued their assault, Hermione coming to aid. I shouted for Draco, watching as Ron ran after the Slytherin’s. 

After some digging, Harry and Hermione plopped back to the ground. Ron came out of nowhere, snatching Hermione’s hand as he claimed that Goyle set the place on fire. Indeed he did as a giant fire in the shape of a snake came bounding after us. 

I grabbed Harry’s hand as we weaved through the stacks of rubbish, not finding a way out. I whipped my head in search of Draco, wondering if he made it out alive. My chest burned from the fire, and the thought of the love of my life being dead in the very same room. 

We bumped into some brooms, taking off to find the exit. I looked all over for Draco, not spotting him. Harry then caught my attention, whisking around to go back from where we just were. I sobbed in relief when I saw Draco, his eyes lighting up when he caught sight of me. I grabbed his arm, tugging him so he could jump on the back of the broom. He held tightly to my waist, his lips moving to kiss my cheek. 

The blast from the fire knocked us off the broom once we reached outside of the Room of Requirement, Draco kissed me before taking off. Harry stabbed the tiara with the Basilisk fang, knocking both of us back. 

==================================

My heart crumbled after Harry and I took Snape’s tears to watch his memories. Not only did both of us have to die to completely destroy Voldemort, but that we might not come back. I thought of Draco, that we would never get married, have children, and grow old together. Neither would Harry, but this had to be done. 

We found Hermione and Ron at the bottom of the stairs just in front of the castle. huddled together. They stood once they saw us, knowing what Harry and I were about to do. Hermione crushed Harry into a hug, Ron leaning down to hug me tight. 

“We all had a feeling this is how it would have to end, no one just wanted to accept it.” I spoke, pulling back to smile sadly at Ron.

“After us, it’s just the snake. Kill it, and you’ll kill him.” Harry said.

Hermione tugged me to her, crying into my shoulder. I rubbed her back, sniffling to hold in my tears. Once I pulled back, I took Harry’s hand as we made our way to the Forbidden Forest. Harry found the Resurrection Stone in the snitch, holding my hand tightly. We looked around to see our parents, Remus, and Sirius. Our mother held her hand out, I instantly went to her. My hand went through her’s, my heart clenching when I couldn’t feel her.

“You’ve been so brave my babies.” she spoke, her voice melodic as it rang in my ears. How I wished I could have heard her voice my whole life.

“You’re nearly there,” our father said, his features resembling Harry so much they almost looked like the same person. 

“Does it hurt? To die?” Harry asked Sirius, my eyes leaving my mother’s to look at my Godfather.

“Quicker than falling asleep.” Sirius quipped, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I wish more than ever that none of you had to die, not like this.” I croaked, Harry nodding in agreement.

“I never wanted any of you to die for me,” Harry spoke, looking around at our lost loved ones. 

“Remus, Teddy he-” I started.

“Others will tell him what his parents died for, and one day, he’ll understand.” Remus smiled, his eyes looking between Harry and I. 

“You’ll be with us?” I asked.

“Until the very end.” our father answered.

“Stay close to us.” Harry said, grabbing my hand again.

“Always,” our mother replied, my eyes tearing up as they disappeared. 

===========================

Voldemort had been defeated, finally freeing Harry and I from our life long torture. No more looking over our shoulders constantly, no more people that we loved would have to die for us. I could be with Draco...if I ever saw him again. He fled with his parents after Harry and I revealed to everyone that we were in fact still alive. 

“We did it,” I gasped, laughing as Harry and I embraced one another.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were walking across the bridge that separated the castle from the outside world, mindlessly kicking the cement that littered from the battle. 

“So what will you do with the most powerful wand in the world Harry?” I asked my brother, turning to face him.

I watched in horror as he broke the wand, throwing the pieces over the edge. He did the right thing though...

“Y/n...” Hermione mumbled, pointing at something behind us.

I turned around hesitantly, my heart soaring at the sight in front of me. Draco stood at the other end of the bridge, once he saw me turn he began walking. I took off in a sprint, tears rolling down my cheeks. He jogged the rest of the way, meeting me in the middle as I crashed into his arms. He spun me around, both of us laughing joyously. I pulled back to look into his eyes, a second later his lips were on mine. 

Draco held tight with his arms around my lower back, my feet still off the ground. I licked my way into his mouth, challenging his tongue into a dance of passion. I moved one hand to fist it in his hair, tugging it slightly to hear him moan into my mouth. He sat me down gently, pulling away to lean his forehead to mine.

“You came back,” I sniffled, intertwining our hands.

“I’ll always come back for you my love,” he whispered.

“I love you Draco,” I smiled.

“I love you more y/n,” he sighed, pulling me into his embrace once more.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 3: I See Fire

part 2

Part 3

Viren: Well how do you suggest we get him out?

Claudia: *grins, brandishes marshmallow on toasting fork* Unharmed is just another kind of harmed

Viren: Claudia no

Claudia: Claudia YES

I See Fire

Angst rating: 9/10

Viren is clever enough not to take the Silvergrove on alone, no matter how badly he wants Ethari to make him a magic key. Aaravos could be cooking in that pod for a while longer, but Viren still has a trustworthy and badass ally at his side.

Oh yeah, it's Claudia Time again!

Claudia is a powerful and imaginative dark mage, and she has the tainted Sun staff. So, you're the magefam, and you've made it to Xadia, to the edges of the Moonshadow Forest. And all you need to do to get the power of your dreams is to threaten one soft craftsman. But how do you find one specific Moonshadow elf in a hidden Moonshadow village somewhere in the middle of a giant spooky magical forest?

You burn him out.

Credit once again to@random-fandom-ramble for reminding me of this forest fire headcanon, because it fits so well. and so I don't get all the blame for this one, lol

Because see, that's not ordinary fire. Oh, no. That's dark magic fire. We've seen that before. It leaves permanent scars. Remember Sol Regem's eyes?

That's going to be the landscape when Claudia's fire gets through with the Moonshadow elves' home. Where I live on the US West Coast, they name forest fires, and if they combine, they get called complexes. So maybe we can name this fire the Dark Tragedy Complex? Because I do have to wonder... you could start a dark magic forest fire easily with a tainted Sun staff, but how do you put it out?

Two things are going to happen if these events should unfold. One is angsty. The other is also angsty but then amazing.

Firstly, Viren is going to get what he wants. He'll find Ethari, whose tree burned down :(. He'll show him the coins, and he'll offer a trade. Build what he wants and make it work, and Ethari can have his family back, uncoined and free.

And Ethari will say yes.

He'll say yes no matter what anyone else tries to persuade him to do, and I hope they do try, because see: Ethari has to make it look good. He has to make it look like he's all in on Viren's plan, to Viren. Even if that means turning his back on his people in their time of greatest need.

Secondly, the Moonshadow elves are going to be collectively homeless and bereft, hungry, injured, terrified, angry. They will have nowhere to go. They will be a people without a home. And no one else in Xadia will help them. Maybe they're too terrified to hide Ethari's people in case doing so brings Viren down on them, too. We've seen how ordinary elves flee in terror from dark magic. Maybe they're all fighting other issues, too. Viren knows all about stretching resources too far during times of crisis. Whatever the case, there will be no welcome anywhere in Xadia for the Moonshadow elves of the Moonshadow Forest.

But here's where it gets amazing. Because one hand will reach out. One small hand, from across the border. Good King Ezran will stand up on the seat of his throne and say, "You can stay here. I have forests. You're tired, you're hungry. You need medicine. Let me help."

And I'm gonna cry like a little baby.

How many cycles does this break, how many circles does it complete? Moonshadow elves used to live in Katolis before the border was created. When humans were under threat of total annihilation, the Moonshadow leader's daughter spoke up and asked for mercy. That mercy came in the form of land reassignment, and the Moonshadow elves had to give up their ancestral home, their Nexus, and travel east across the new Border. But that mercy got paired with justice, and the life-loving Moon Druids probably had to swear some kind of blood promise to keep an eye on the humans forevermore, and to kill any individuals who got out of hand, as if their sins were the Moonshadows' responsibility now.

That's got to breed a little resentment, a little superiority. "Look what we sacrificed for you, and this is how you act. Ungrateful." And maybe that was partially Luna Tenebris's goal: to hold to her vision of justice, she had to make the elves who shared her arcanum feel a little resentment. Moonshadows love life, but we can't have them being too soft to keep Xadia safe from dark mages, now, can we? I will never stop cackling over dragon politics okay, never

But the Moonshadow elves never figured on King Ezran. A soft boy who refused to let his father's assassination harden his heart, because every life is genuinely important to him. I've seen headcanons for Ezran getting the Sun, Earth, Ocean, and Stars arcanum. How about Moon, too? Because this is very Ethari of him, and if these stories of Viren's plan and the Moonshadow elves' displacement were actually to happen in tandem, the contrast between Ezran's soft choice and Ethari's hard one would be mindblowing.

Ezran completes the circle by inviting the Moonshadow elves to return to Katolis, to their ancestral home. They left long ago, paying the price for an act of mercy, but they were welcomed back by the mercy of humans, repaid after a thousand years, repaid in the face of tragedy. Tragedy on all sides. Tragedy Ezran wants to stop from happening, by being brave and caring and soft, and by being the first to break this thousand-year cycle between Katolis and the Moonshadow elves.

Rayla is his friend. And these are her people. It won't matter what they've done, only that they need help in a time of great desperation. And of course he'll help them. He's Ezran, and he's Katolis's greatest treasure.

Oh, what's that you say? Inviting the Moonshadow elves to settle in Katolis again would make it easier for Rayla to live with Callum in the future? Oh gosh, how about that? What a deal. *smug matchmaker noises*

And once the Moonshadow elves understand that they're safe and begin to trust Ezran--which could happen very quickly, because saving a Moonshadow elf's life when you didn't need to is a really fast way to prove you're trustworthy--maybe Ezran will be encouraged to take the next step toward peace, and eventually other elves and dragons will come to meet together to talk it over. And Ez will offer them jelly tarts, which they will love.

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem. What if we are gifted with Iron Man Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost- almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone: Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would know that Ethari would have to stay close to Viren of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. And making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Runaan and Ethari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future, or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What beating Viren looks like, I can't guess yet. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in thwarting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

part 4

[pink-peony-princess]

Isn't She Lovely?

"Please, please go to sleep" I whispered desperately, as I rocked back and forth in the small room. Gracie our one month old daughter was distraught, I'd tried everything feeding her burping her, changing her, laying her down, rocking her and still she was crying. I was at the end of my wit and I really didn't know what to do. To make matters worse Shawn, the love of my life and husband of six months had gone out for the day with his little sister and even though he told me before he left to call if I needed abything, I was reluctant. This was his first full day off from work as an E.R. doctor in almost a month. Normally he'd spend the day with me and Gracie and he'd tried to do the same thing today, but I was insistent when his sister contacted him that he spend the day with her. The last thing I wanted was to get in the way of that.

But I was really starting to regret it now. It felt like no matter what I did, nothing would stop the unchecked sobs that left poor Gracie's mouth, her face was red and blotchy from the tears and her skin clammy from the force she was exuding.

"Sshh, sshh," I lulled, trying to comfort her, but it was no use, my voice could barely be heard over her cries. Finally I gave up, placing her in her crib which only caused her to cry harder and went down stairs to find the formula which we kept on hand for times like this when there was no other solution. For some reason she always seemed to settle when she was fed formula. Strange, maybe, but it worked, and I wasn't about to say no to something that might calm her down. We were both exhausted.

I made the bottle quickly rushing around the kitchen, conscious of the fact that she was upstairs squawking her little head off. I was just heading back up stairs when I remembered her dummy on the counter and turned back to get it,but there must have been water on the floor from when I was rinsing the bottle that I'd somehow missed, because the last thing I was aware of was falling and not being able to catch myself, whacking my head on the counter,landing harshly on the floor and then black.

The next thing I was aware of was the vague sound of a lock being turned and then a shadow in the doorway to the kitchen which I couldn't quite make out in my hazy state before a frantic voice yelled out, way to loudly for my pounding head,

"Shawn, you need to get in here now!"

There was the sound of quick footsteps, only making my head hurt more, before Shawn was squatting down so his face was level with mine. I had never seen him look as worried in all the time I'd known him than he did right now. His brows furrowed, mouth tipped slightly downwards as he studied me.

"Baby, what happened? Why is Gracie crying? Are you okay?" he fired question after question at me, but my brain was still too frazzled to take much in.It felt like when you wake up from an extra long nap and you're all disoriented. And all I could take in was pain, both my head and side were throbbing and I couldn't help but hold my side around my ribs in a weak attempt to stop it hurting.

The look of concern only grew at my silence. Finally the gravity of the situation actually hit me and it all came flooding back, Gracie's crying,my unsuccessful attempts to pacify her, the kitchen and my fall.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I sobbed into his chest, tears now streaming down my face. "It's okay baby, tell me what happend? Aaliyah would you go and get Gracie please?" he asked, looking up at her from the floor.

She nodded, and left the room quickly ,leaving us alone momentarily.

"I'm so sorry," I continued to mumble into his chest between sobs as Shawn rubbed soothing circles into my back, waiting patiently for me to calm down enough to explain what had happened. I must have looked like a complete mess.

"Baby, I'm not mad, I promise," he whispered leaning back again to look at me. "I'm just worried, you scared me so bad," he admitted, kissing the top of my head. "Now what happened?"

I just looked at him still feeling overwhelmed and guilty. How could I let this happen?

"Tell me what happend?" he whispered again, brushing the hair out of my face.

"I was coming down here to get the formula, she's been crying all day, and I'm so tired and sore Shawn!" I hiccupped.

"Why didn't you tell me, honey? You should have called or texted," he half scolded, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"And I feel so stupid, I can't even get my own baby to feed properly and she's crying all the time, and my scar is excruciating," I cried. My C-section scar had been hurting for a little over a week now and when I'd looked at it, it looked red and I knew it was probably infected, but I was too scared to do anything about it, so this was the first time Shawn was hearing about it.

"Hey, the last thing you are is stupid, I don't ever want to hear you say that again," he spoke fiercely. "You are the mother of my child and the love of my life." He kissed my hair softly.

"Can I have a look?" he asked, moving to lift my top up.

I nodded, letting him know it was okay.

He lifted the fabric and there was the scar looking more red and angry than ever.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me?" he asked searching my face. The worst part wasn't the pain I was in, but the fact that he looked genuinely hurt that I hadn't asked him for help. I really couldn't tell you what had stopped me, but the way he looked at me now made me feel so guity. I let out a whimper as he gently touched the area surrounding the wound testing for I don't know what.

"Baby this is infected. You'll need antibiotics and cream for this," he explained, moving to sit on the floor in front of me, taking my hands in his.

"Promise me next time, you'll tell me okay. Even if you think it's nothing okay. You know I'm always here for you." he squeezed my hands gently as he spoke. I nodded not trusting my voice as I felt a new wave of tears coming.

"I didn't want to worry you, you were out with Liyah, and I didn't want to bother you." I paused unsure of how to go on.

Thankfully he seemed to understand and broke the silence for me.

"You've knocked your head on something honey, you've got a small cut above your left eyebrow." He reached up to the bench grabbing the kitchen towel roll and tapping at my face gently, before showing me the red paper.

"It's not as bad as it could be, but I'll still need to clean it."

"I can do it," I insisted. He frowned, clearly disapproving. He knew I didn't like it when he went all medical on me.

"Lilah, no offense baby, but you're in no state to be doing anything medically related right now. You're clearly exhausted, you've hit your head and from the way you're holding your side I'd bet you've bruised a few ribs."

"Come on, let's go into the bathroom and we'll get you cleaned up and you can have a nice long bath, with some Epsom salts and I'll see about getting you on some antibiotics and cleaning your scar okay?" he smiled encouragingly.

I went to open my mouth, but he stopped me mid-word, holding his finger to my lips with a smile. "No buts, I know you don't like it when I worry, but it's my job, both as your husband and as a doctor, please let me do it."

He led me into the bathroom, helping me to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, before reaching up into the cabinet and pulling the giant first aid box down.

"You know," he spoke as he opened it up and surveyed the contents for a moment. "Asking for help doesn't make you a bad mum. If anything it'll make you an even better mum- if that's even possible," he smiled. "Because you will have the support there when you need it. Me your mum, my mum even are Aaliyah are all here for you Lilah."

I dropped my head as what he was saying sank in. I could have avoided all of this if I'd just swallowed my pride and asked for help.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again.

"Baby, you don't need to be sorry," he murmured coming over to stand in from of me holding what looked like cotton swabs. "Head up for me honey," he spoke, tapping under my chin with his pointer finger.

I lifted my head as he asked and made the mistake of looking him in the eye. That was all it took for another round of tears fuelled by exhaustion and humiliation to well up as I faught to stop them falling again.

"I'm just going to wipe the blood away so I can see the cut a little better okay?" he asked, stepping closer so his legs were on either side of mine. I nodded, trying to be brave.

Once he'd cleaned by head up and placed a plaster on it for good measure he turned his attention to my scar. "Lift your top for me again Princess?" he asked as he turned to get more cotton swabs, disinfectant and cream from the box.

"This is going to sting, I'm sorry honey," he warned as he poured the yellowish liquid onto one of the swabs and moved to pull the fabric of my shirt up further."Ready?" he asked, watching me carefully.

I nodded,clenching my fists. "Try to relax honey," he encouraged, dropping my shirt and placing a comforting hand on my thigh instead.

Sure enough as soon as the liquid came into contact with my skin I wanted to scream.

"Deep breathes Lilah," he encouraged as he wiped the area a few times. "Nearly done."

I tried my hardest to not move, but I couldn't help he whimper that slipped through my lips. Shawn frowned, his hand giving my thigh a slight squeeze.

"What do you want to have for dinner tonight bub? I could do Carbonara?" I knew he was trying to distract me from what he was doing, but I was greatful. It gave me something to do other than focus on the intense burning that was still eminating from my stomach.

"That would be nice," I smiled, I could feel my stomach rumbling at the thought.

"Okay, we'll do that and we can have a movie night how does that sound?" he asked as he finally removed the swab,and placed it in the bin.

"How you feeling Lilah?" Aaliyah asked a few minutes later, stepping into the bathroom as Shawn wiped some soothing care onto the area.

Gracie was now asleep in her arms, no hint of the earlier upset apparent on her face. She looked like a sleeping angel.

Shawn placed the cream on the counter and went over to take Gracie gently from his sister kissing her softly on the head as she fidgeted slightly getting comfortable in her daddy's arms. I could just make out him speaking softly to her, " I heard you've been giving your mommy a hard time little lady, maybe save that for when daddy's home so we can play two man defense," he whispered.

I couldn't help but laugh at the way he spoke as though she could understand everything he was saying.

"Hey, who said you could listen in, this is a private conversation between me and my girl." he hugged her closer to his chest a fake scowl on his face as she grabbed a fist full of his shirt in her sleep,

"She's half mine," I quipped back with a grin.

"Touche," he smiled, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a feather light touch watching as she scrunched it in response.

"How about you take a bath honey, I'll start getting dinner going," he suggested as he carefully passed Gracie back Aaliyah.

"But what about Gracie?" I asked.

"Her aunty has her hey baby," Aaliyah smiled down at Gracie from the doorway.

I smiled, I knew that between Aaliyah and Shawn they could handle her, so I nodded and they both left, though Shawn not before placing a soft kiss to my temple and whispering an "I love you."

...

It was several hours later and Shawn had made dinner and put Gracie down, Aaliyah having left leaving Shawn and I to cuddle on the sofa 10 things I hate about you playing softly on the T.V. though I was so tired from the day's events that I wasn't really paying attention to the movie, instead enjoying the warmth radiating from Shawn his soft breathing lulling me further into sleep.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell me," he murmured as he traced patterns into my thigh.

I sighed, snuggling into him more.

"It's okay, it's me, it's just all new, and I guess I wasn't expecting it to be so hard," I admitted.

"You know, I'm always here right, whenever you need me, my family comes before anything."

"I know." And I did know, Shawn was never exactly quiet about his love of protectiveness of us.

"You and Gracie are my life," he spoke.

Just as he said that a soft whine started from down the hallway signalling that she'd woken.

I sighed going to get up,"No," he spoke firmly, pushing me gently so I was forced back into my little cacoon on the sofa. "I'll go."

"Are you sure, I'm fine to get her," I started.

"Babe, you've had a tough day,let me look after my girls," he pleaded with the best puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen, even for him.

I nodded, letting him go, watching as he made his way down the hall and into our daughter's room.

A few moments later he returned, little Gracie in nothing but a nappy due to the hot summer night, her whines having turned into soft little grunts as she lay on Shawn's shoulder.

"Hi bubba," I sang as Shawn sat down again, moving her to his right shoulder so I could keep talking to her. "What are you doing up so late ha? You're gonna be so tired in the morning little lady." As if on cue she started crying again, more forcefully than before.

I sat up holding my hands out ready to take her, a reflex reaction, but Shawn shook his head "I wanna try something," he told me, shifting her slightly and unbuttoning his shirt to show his toned chest. Her placed Gracie down and as soon as her skin touched his she settled. I smiled, watching the cute scene unfold before me.

"She knows daddy's got her and it's all okay,hey baby," he cooed softly and unapologetically, rubbing firm comforting circles into her back. "I can't believe we made her," he whispered in awe minutes later when she'd fallen back to sleep, resting soundly on Shawn.

"I can, but isn't she lovely," I moved to ever so softly stroke her hair, it was like angel's hair, still perfect,she was perfect, still so innocent, oblivious to the big bad world outside our perfect little family.

"She's the most lovely girl in the world, she takes after her mommy like that," Shawn smiled, turning to peak me on the lips. And in that moment I felt that everything in the world was right. That no matter what happened I would always have my perfect little family and that was all I needed.

[pinkpeonyprincessblog]

Isn't She Lovely?

"Please, please go to sleep" I whispered desperately, as I rocked back and forth in the small room. Gracie our one month old daughter was distraught, I'd tried everything feeding her burping her, changing her, laying her down, rocking her and still she was crying. I was at the end of my wit and I really didn't know what to do. To make matters worse Shawn, the love of my life and husband of six months had gone out for the day with his little sister and even though he told me before he left to call if I needed abything, I was reluctant. This was his first full day off from work as an E.R. doctor in almost a month. Normally he'd spend the day with me and Gracie and he'd tried to do the same thing today, but I was insistent when his sister contacted him that he spend the day with her. The last thing I wanted was to get in the way of that.

But I was really starting to regret it now. It felt like no matter what I did, nothing would stop the unchecked sobs that left poor Gracie's mouth, her face was red and blotchy from the tears and her skin clammy from the force she was exuding.

"Sshh, sshh," I lulled, trying to comfort her, but it was no use, my voice could barely be heard over her cries. Finally I gave up, placing her in her crib which only caused her to cry harder and went down stairs to find the formula which we kept on hand for times like this when there was no other solution. For some reason she always seemed to settle when she was fed formula. Strange, maybe, but it worked, and I wasn't about to say no to something that might calm her down. We were both exhausted.

I made the bottle quickly rushing around the kitchen, conscious of the fact that she was upstairs squawking her little head off. I was just heading back up stairs when I remembered her dummy on the counter and turned back to get it,but there must have been water on the floor from when I was rinsing the bottle that I'd somehow missed, because the last thing I was aware of was falling and not being able to catch myself, whacking my head on the counter,landing harshly on the floor and then black.

The next thing I was aware of was the vague sound of a lock being turned and then a shadow in the doorway to the kitchen which I couldn't quite make out in my hazy state before a frantic voice yelled out, way to loudly for my pounding head,

"Shawn, you need to get in here now!"

There was the sound of quick footsteps, only making my head hurt more, before Shawn was squatting down so his face was level with mine. I had never seen him look as worried in all the time I'd known him than he did right now. His brows furrowed, mouth tipped slightly downwards as he studied me.

"Baby, what happened? Why is Gracie crying? Are you okay?" he fired question after question at me, but my brain was still too frazzled to take much in.It felt like when you wake up from an extra long nap and you're all disoriented. And all I could take in was pain, both my head and side were throbbing and I couldn't help but hold my side around my ribs in a weak attempt to stop it hurting.

The look of concern only grew at my silence. Finally the gravity of the situation actually hit me and it all came flooding back, Gracie's crying,my unsuccessful attempts to pacify her, the kitchen and my fall.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I sobbed into his chest, tears now streaming down my face. "It's okay baby, tell me what happend? Aaliyah would you go and get Gracie please?" he asked, looking up at her from the floor.

She nodded, and left the room quickly,leaving us alone momentarily.

"I'm so sorry," I continued to mumble into his chest between sobs as Shawn rubbed soothing circles into my back, waiting patiently for me to calm down enough to explain what had happened. I must have looked like a complete mess.

"Baby, I'm not mad, I promise," he whispered leaning back again to look at me. "I'm just worried, you scared me so bad," he admitted, kissing the top of my head. "Now what happened?"

I just looked at him still feeling overwhelmed and guilty. How could I let this happen?

"Tell me what happend?" he whispered again, brushing the hair out of my face.

"I was coming down here to get the formula, she's been crying all day,and I'm so tired and sore Shawn!" I hiccupped.

"Why didn't you tell me, honey? You should have called or texted," he half scolded, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"And I feel so stupid, I can't even get my own baby to feed properly and she's crying all the time, and my scar is excruciating," I cried. My C-section scar had been hurting for a little over a week now and when I'd looked at it, it looked red and I knew it was probably infected, but I was too scared to do anything about it, so this was the first time Shawn was hearing about it.

"Hey, the last thing you are is stupid, I don't ever want to hear you say that again," he spoke fiercely. "You are the mother of my child and the love of my life." He kissed my hair softly.

"Can I have a look?" he asked, moving to lift my top up.

I nodded, letting him know it was okay.

He lifted the fabric and there was the scar looking more red and angry than ever.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me?" he asked searching my face. The worst part wasn't the pain I was in, but the fact that he looked genuinely hurt that I hadn't asked him for help. I really couldn't tell you what had stopped me, but the way he looked at me now made me feel so guity. I let out a whimper as he gently touched the area surrounding the wound testing for I don't know what.

"Baby this is infected. You'll need antibiotics and cream for this," he explained, moving to sit on the floor in front of me, taking my hands in his.

"Promise me next time, you'll tell me okay. Even if you think it's nothing okay. You know I'm always here for you." he squeezed my hands gently as he spoke. I nodded not trusting my voice as I felt a new wave of tears coming.

"I didn't want to worry you, you were out with Liyah, and I didn't want to bother you." I paused unsure of how to go on.

Thankfully he seemed to understand and broke the silence for me.

"You've knocked your head on something honey, you've got a small cut above your left eyebrow." He reached up to the bench grabbing the kitchen towel roll and tapping at my face gently, before showing me the red paper.

"It's not as bad as it could be, but I'll still need to clean it."

"I can do it," I insisted. He frowned, clearly disapproving. He knew I didn't like it when he went all medical on me.

"Lilah, no offense baby, but you're in no state to be doing anything medically related right now. You're clearly exhausted, you've hit your head and from the way you're holding your side I'd bet you've bruised a few ribs."

"Come on, let's go into the bathroom and we'll get you cleaned up and you can have a nice long bath, with some Epsom salts and I'll see about getting you on some antibiotics and cleaning your scar okay?" he smiled encouragingly.

I went to open my mouth, but he stopped me mid-word, holding his finger to my lips with a smile. "No buts, I know you don't like it when I worry, but it's my job, both as your husband and as a doctor, please let me do it."

He led me into the bathroom, helping me to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, before reaching up into the cabinet and pulling the giant first aid box down.

"You know," he spoke as he opened it up and surveyed the contents for a moment. "Asking for help doesn't make you a bad mum. If anything it'll make you an even better mum- if that's even possible," he smiled. "Because you will have the support there when you need it. Me your mum, my mum even are Aaliyah are all here for you Lilah."

I dropped my head as what he was saying sank in. I could have avoided all of this if I'd just swallowed my pride and asked for help.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again.

"Baby, you don't need to be sorry," he murmured coming over to stand in from of me holding what looked like cotton swabs. "Head up for me honey," he spoke, tapping under my chin with his pointer finger.

I lifted my head as he asked and made the mistake of looking him in the eye. That was all it took for another round of tears fuelled by exhaustion and humiliation to well up as I faught to stop them falling again.

"I'm just going to wipe the blood away so I can see the cut a little better okay?" he asked, stepping closer so his legs were on either side of mine. I nodded, trying to be brave.

Once he'd cleaned by head up and placed a plaster on it for good measure he turned his attention to my scar. "Lift your top for me again Princess?" he asked as he turned to get more cotton swabs, disinfectant and cream from the box.

"This is going to sting, I'm sorry honey," he warned as he poured the yellowish liquid onto one of the swabs and moved to pull the fabric of my shirt up further."Ready?" he asked, watching me carefully.

I nodded,clenching my fists. "Try to relax honey," he encouraged, dropping my shirt and placing a comforting hand on my thigh instead.

Sure enough as soon as the liquid came into contact with my skin I wanted to scream.

"Deep breathes Lilah," he encouraged as he wiped the area a few times. "Nearly done."

I tried my hardest to not move, but I couldn't help he whimper that slipped through my lips. Shawn frowned, his hand giving my thigh a slight squeeze.

"What do you want to have for dinner tonight bub? I could do Carbonara?" I knew he was trying to distract me from what he was doing, but I was greatful. It gave me something to do other than focus on the intense burning that was still eminating from my stomach.

"That would be nice," I smiled, I could feel my stomach rumbling at the thought.

"Okay, we'll do that and we can have a movie night how does that sound?" he asked as he finally removed the swab,and placed it in the bin.

"How you feeling Lilah?" Aaliyah asked a few minutes later, stepping into the bathroom as Shawn wiped some soothing care onto the area.

Gracie was now asleep in her arms, no hint of the earlier upset apparent on her face. She looked like a sleeping angel.

Shawn placed the cream on the counter and went over to take Gracie gently from his sister kissing her softly on the head as she fidgeted slightly getting comfortable in her daddy's arms. I could just make out him speaking softly to her, " I heard you've been giving your mommy a hard time little lady, maybe save that for when daddy's home so we can play two man defense," he whispered.

I couldn't help but laugh at the way he spoke as though she could understand everything he was saying.

"Hey, who said you could listen in, this is a private conversation between me and my girl." he hugged her closer to his chest a fake scowl on his face as she grabbed a fist full of his shirt in her sleep,

"She's half mine," I quipped back with a grin.

"Touche," he smiled, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a feather light touch watching as she scrunched it in response.

"How about you take a bath honey, I'll start getting dinner going," he suggested as he carefully passed Gracie back Aaliyah.

"But what about Gracie?" I asked.

"Her aunty has her hey baby," Aaliyah smiled down at Gracie from the doorway.

I smiled, I knew that between Aaliyah and Shawn they could handle her, so I nodded and they both left, though Shawn not before placing a soft kiss to my temple and whispering an "I love you."

...

It was several hours later and Shawn had made dinner and put Gracie down, Aaliyah having left leaving Shawn and I to cuddle on the sofa 10 things I hate about you playing softly on the T.V. though I was so tired from the day's events that I wasn't really paying attention to the movie, instead enjoying the warmth radiating from Shawn his soft breathing lulling me further into sleep.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell me," he murmured as he traced patterns into my thigh.

I sighed, snuggling into him more.

"It's okay, it's me, it's just all new, and I guess I wasn't expecting it to be so hard," I admitted.

"You know, I'm always here right, whenever you need me, my family comes before anything."

"I know." And I did know, Shawn was never exactly quiet about his love of protectiveness of us.

"You and Gracie are my life," he spoke.

Just as he said that a soft whine started from down the hallway signalling that she'd woken.

I sighed going to get up,"No," he spoke firmly, pushing me gently so I was forced back into my little cacoon on the sofa. "I'll go."

"Are you sure, I'm fine to get her," I started.

"Babe, you've had a tough day,let me look after my girls," he pleaded with the best puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen, even for him.

I nodded, letting him go, watching as he made his way down the hall and into our daughter's room.

A few moments later he returned, little Gracie in nothing but a nappy due to the hot summer night, her whines having turned into soft little grunts as she lay on Shawn's shoulder.

"Hi bubba," I sang as Shawn sat down again, moving her to his right shoulder so I could keep talking to her. "What are you doing up so late ha? You're gonna be so tired in the morning little lady." As if on cue she started crying again, more forcefully than before.

I sat up holding my hands out ready to take her, a reflex reaction, but Shawn shook his head "I wanna try something," he told me, shifting her slightly and unbuttoning his shirt to show his toned chest. Her placed Gracie down and as soon as her skin touched his she settled. I smiled, watching the cute scene unfold before me.

"She knows daddy's got her and it's all okay,hey baby," he cooed softly and unapologetically, rubbing firm comforting circles into her back. "I can't believe we made her," he whispered in awe minutes later when she'd fallen back to sleep, resting soundly on Shawn.

"I can, but isn't she lovely," I moved to ever so softly stroke her hair, it was like angel's hair, still perfect,she was perfect, still so innocent, oblivious to the big bad world outside our perfect little family.

"She's the most lovely girl in the world, she takes after her mommy like that," Shawn smiled, turning to peak me on the lips. And in that moment I felt that everything in the world was right. That no matter what happened I would always have my perfect little family and that was all I needed.

[sneyrwrites]

hi! can i request for a levi x reader scenario where the reader is a really powerful titan shifter and levi finds out about it. slight angst and fluff would be great. im apologize if this was confusing, this is my first time requesting anything.

Don’t worry! It’s perfectly fine, and this was so fun to write i went a little overboard and this ended much longer than what i intended.

Also, this has spoilers of the last chapters of season 1, specifically, when the female titan appears!  if you haven’t got there yet, feel free to send another ask letting me know and I’ll work on a spoiler free one.

Thank u for requesting! xx

|Wordcount: 3183 | |Warnings: Curse, spoilers.| 

“TRUST”  TITAN SHIFTER!READER X LEVI ACKERMAN

Well... things escalated quickly.

As if being a titan shifter yourself wasn’t enough, now you were in Levi’s squad and needed to protect Eren, another titan shifter like yourself. Being in the trial traumatized you, proving your fears were funded. They wanted to open him up like a fish. You wouldn’t expose your integrity like that.

Honesty was overrated.

How could you explain the fact that you couldn’t remember since when or how you got the power? You knew as much as they did about how the shift worked, being as lost as Eren was with that part of yourself. In fact, before Eren Showed up you’d thought you were one of a kind, an oddity meant to be feared, cursed to hide your real potential.

The fear of what they could do to you was enough to not share your abilities with Erwin, and when the new kid, came around you were too deep into the lie to just be like “Oh hey, by the way I’m also a titan shifter and I stood in the sidelines as hundreds of my comrades died without helping... I’m not selfish at all haha... Please don’t kill me.”

You feared what Levi would do if he found out, he’ll hate you for sure. The trust could never be earned again, he’ll be too hurt. The late night chess and tea encounters you had with him would be lost forever. You’ll be lucky if he didn’t decapitate you himself, titans had taken everything away from him after all.

The expedition was going like normal at first.

You were riding in between Nifa and Eren, wondering who would make it out alive. You trusted your squad, and you knew they were going to make it, but the people your were acquainted from other teams were in danger, and a flash of jealousy surprised you, Eren could shift if he wanted to, but you had to settle for just watching the massacre, trying to fight and save whoever you could with only those weak as fuck swords.

Your eyes went to Levi riding ahead of you, his back straight with a confidence only someone extremely strong and brave had. You admire him, and worked hard to improve inspiration by his example, your wounds heald so the only thing you had to fear was your secret being discovered.

But even so, the stench of fear was in the air, specially coming from the new recruits, the overall mood was thick and heavy, and there was also the fact that no one knew what was the mission in real life, the only thing we could do really was trust our superiors.

An hour into the expedition launched a guy from another regiment came to give the reports. You were too busy looking at the green flares shooting up in the sky as to know what he said, and for Eren’s expression you didn’t want to know either. Petra went away to carry the message under Levi’s commands and as soon as she left black smoke rose to the clouds.

An eccentric.

Dread collied in your stomach as you reached for your gun to shoot a new signal and noticed a forest of giant trees up ahead. Was Erwin really going to make you go through that titan’s den? What was going on?

The sun was blocked by the high treetops, and you and your squad made your way through the somber trail- Your exact thoughts and confusion was clear in your teammates faces, as Eren complained to Levi about the whole situation.

The new kid looked towards you, fear pooling in his green eyes, and you tried to look as calm and composed as you could, but the sweat was pearling your forehead, so it wasn’t convincing. You didn’t like the situation one bit. Turning your head to the front, you called Levi’s attention.

“Captain Levi...” You started, he turned to you and his expression softened a little, but a few tense lines remained. “Wh...” Your question was cut short by the sound of a shot, a black trail ascending behind your back. You were in deep shit.

“Take out your swords. Whatever is coming will appear all of the sudden.” Eren’s fear was almost palpable now, and as you turned to observe the signal once more you saw it.

A female titan coming from the side.

“Captain! We need to switch!” Petra’s plea to leave the horses behind to have a better chance was full of terror, but Levi didn’t react, not a single muscle constricting.

The female titan broke through a bark and a piece scared your horse, almost hitting you.

“(Y/n)!” Levi shouted, turning to you.

Once you calmed your horse down enough to have control over it, you resumed your escape, a few feet behind. Encouraging the frightened animal you tried to smile at Levi, letting him know you were okay, but his eyes were back to the front, a scowl in his features.

Looking behind you, you could see the short distance you had between the female titan and yourself. If you kept that pace she was going to catch you. And she wasn’t just an eccentric. She was just like Eren and yourself. You could see it in her focused eyes as she grabbed cables, turning and squishing your partners' bodies as if they were made of nothing but clay. An urge to transform and rip the bitch’s head off was so strong it was almost hurting you, but you had to believe in the capability’s of your commander. He must have a plan, and you and your freak power wasn’t taking into consideration. It was better to stay out of it.

But she kicked your fucking horse.

Your body flew across the air, and you could hear Petra and Oolo screaming your name, but you collided against a tree and the sound of something breaking muffled their voices, the crack reverberating into your very soul. As you were Falling to the hard floor, the only thing that was on your mind was your squad, she was about to get them and for once you were sure it was worth the sacrifice if it meant they would survive.

Rolling to your side you saw Levi’s shot a flare and the sound of an explosion made your ears ring.

That was the plan all along? To catch the fucking titan!? And to think you almost blow your cover for nothing. Fucking Erwin and his secrecy.

You tried to get up, but pain shot through your arm. For sure it was broken, and to make it worse the bone was sticking out. It would be fine in a few moments, not being that serious of a wound, but you were dangerously close to the rest of the surveys. If they saw you like that it might raise suspicions.

Sucking in a breath, you grabbed your wrist and pulled to adjust the bone back in place. The crunch and the stabbing pain making you groan The steam started to raise from the wound and a sigh came out of your mouth, the skin in your arm starting to regenerate .

“(Y/n)...?” Levi’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and the fear nestled in your throat, constricting it. You hide your arm behind your back in a desperate and pathetic attempt to hide the truth.

You turned to him and wished you never saw him in that state. His eyes open and lost, confusion misting over his face. You looked at him fora couple of seconds, and you knew he had seen, the deep frown and his slack mouth were a clear indicative. To say he was shocked was an understatement.

“What the fuck!?” He said, drawing his blades out, the pain of betrayal flashing across his eyes. Shame rushed trough you, and your heart broke at the thought of him being disappointed. That was the last thing you wanted, but still managed to do it in your own incompetence. “You’re one of them?”

Levi took a step forward raising his sword, but you turned around and took off, incapable of stand for another moment the broken look he was giving you, his rushed footsteps followed after you. Tears slipped out of your eyes and without looking back you shot your Odm gear at the farther tree you could and allowed the pressure of the gas take you away from him and from the people you called home. Too afraid to explain yourself to them..

Levi didn’t follow after you.

You had screwed up, and badly. If only you had been honest from the beginning maybe this would’ve turned out better than it did.

Why were you even scared? Levi was trustworthy and a logical person, the fear wasn’t going to phase him enough to kill you without hearing an explanation.

Sitting on top of a branch high enough for no one to see you, you left the faucet open, and the tears fell free, sobs rocking your body. You had lost everything in only a second of careless behaviour, and now you couldn’t go back home. There was nothing left for you.

Time was lost to you, but it couldn’t be more than fifteen minutes, when your weeping session was interrupted by a terrified scream.

“Petra!” Oolo’s voice got to your ears, 

Gunther and Eld could no longer tease you about your crush on some mystery man

Everything was lost in such a short amount of time.

The Tree you were sitting on trembled, and absentmindedly you looked down to its base, the smiles of your squad still on your mind.

Eren’s half head had rolled to the base.

The sight detonated something within you, almost as if your soul had broken in half, and now someone was triturating it into a million more.

A scream that would put any Banshee to shame erupted from somewhere deep in your core. Your hands grasping your hair and pulling, trying to relief in someway the anguish you were feeling.

You were going to kill her, it was all her fault. You’ve lost everything because of her.

The sharp pain on your scalp was followed by a burning hot sensation washing over you. Only half conscious of what was happening, still too shocked to realize just how things got out of hand. You got up from the floor.

When did you fall? You couldn’t remember.

Steam rose from the severed head. A lingering touch of conciousness was still present, and you felt the failure, your teammates efforts had been in vain, and you couldn’t help them in time.

Your broken cry scared the birds away, and with a blood thirst you’ve never felt before you took off, in search of the female titan.

Zooming through trees, you ran in the direction the head came from. And soon you saw her trying to run away. Eren was nowhere to be found, and that only fuel you.

You didn’t stop once you reached her, instead deciding it was best to send both of your bodies to the floor in a mess of wrestling limbs. Managing to get her under you, your fist collided against her body. 

You were trying to feel anything, even if only a tingle of pain, to dissipate your frustration and grief, but the stupid titan’s body was like a protective shield.

You roared and in a desperate attempt you head-butted her, skulls cracking on impact.

The blonde titan looked at you with open and scared blue eyes, now sporting an evident bent in her forehead. If she was trying to get some kind of mercy, it was not going to happen, not after she obliterated your friends like they were just bugs, not even worthy of a second glance.

Twisting and turning behind your weight, she was desperately trying to get up, and twisting her hips she managed to throw your body away. But it was not the end. You were so lost to the pain than once you regained your balance you grabbed her once more. 

Standing behind her, your fingers grasped her jaw, and you pulled up, trying to return the favor of what she did to Eren. Muscles ripped because of the brute force, as she desperately tried to claw at your arms. As you had her mouth open, you were going to keep going until you rip her to shreds, put the sight of two horrified people stopped your movements. 

Your body locked up when you and Levi made eye contact, Mikasa by his side staring horrified at you. You were barely aware of the titan, still thrashing against your arms, but there was no use, you were too strong and you had the upper hand. 

In a flash Levi strapped one of his hooks into the tree next to your head and dived into the female titan’s mouth, retrieving Eren’s body covered in filthy saliva. He then went back to where Mikasa was, but his eyes never left your body. 

Your conciousness came back when his steel orbs caught your attention, and shame rushed through your body. There was no way you’ll confront Levi after he saw you as a titan. Mikasa grabbed Eren’s body in her arms, but you didn’t wait around to see how things would turn out. 

Turning around you sprinted to the exit of the woods, once you were out, there was no way for him to catch in the open field without his ODM.

“Wait!” Levi’s screamed, but that didn’t stop you at all.

You had almost made it, but suddenly the world titled and your titan form fell face first into the ground. In that moment whatever remainded of conciousness you had abbandoned you,  the las thing in your mind was Levi’s dissapointed look before everything dissapeard.

The light was annoyingly disrupting your slumber.

A groan left your lips, eyes still closed. Who opened your curtains? You always kept them close to prevent a thing like this from happening. As you tried to sit up on the bed, you couldn’t feel your forearms at all. That was weird.

“I see you woke up” Someone’s voice alerted you, and the sleepiness flew out the window.

Opening your eyes, you noticed Levi leaning against the wall in front of you. His face like stone, not a single emotion coming out of him. His storm grey eyes locked on yours, staring with an intensity that rose the hair in your neck.

Trying once more to get up you found yourself incapable. You looked at him in disbelief of his audacity.

“You fucking chopped my arms out!? What the actual fuck Levi!?” Indignation sparked in your chest, how dare he? You were planning on disappearing forever, finally letting the Survey Corps in peace.

“Was it all a lie?” The hurt in his voice stopped you mid-sentence, his words showed what his face didn’t, and it broke your soul a little bit more. 

You didn’t respond, your eyes downcast. He took a step towards you, leaving his spot at the wall. You could almost feel the warmth radiating from his body, and you tensed up at his proximity.

“I asked you a question... Was it all a lie cadet?”  He used his authority, the threat implied in his sentence. "(Y/N)… why?” 

“It scared me… " You whispered, looking up at his impassive face. “I don’t know how I got it, and I thought… I don’t know.” You tried to swallow the knot in your throat, but it was no use. The tears would fall soon if this conversation was to continue.

“So you don’t trust me?” He claimed, an eyebrow rising in questioning.

“Don’t be dumb.” You protested, there was no use in being formal and respectful with him at the moment. “I’ve followed your ass to death a thousand times. You know more about me than myself. I told you I was scared, you’re not in charge, if someone found out before Eren showed up I was going to be executed. Just look at what happened in the court room. ”

Exasperated, Levi uncrossed his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose, almost as if he was imploring for patience. His voice was clipped and harsh when he spoke again.

“You surely don’t trust me if you thought I would allow that dumbass. I would’ve ended whoever attempted to harm you.” 

 A breath hitching in your throat, surprise sucker punching you in the gut. But ten times more shocking than his confession was the fact of him circling you with his arms.

His hands found the back of your head, and he guided your head against his chest. The position was surely not comfortable for him, standing  next to the bed and leaning over, but still, he didn’t let go. His hand caressed your hair, and the tenderness of his touch made you cry again.  Levi’s grip on you tightened, and he stayed quiet, as you let all the stress and fear leave your body in the form of tears.

You wanted to hug him back so badly, but because of your lack of arms you couldn’t do it. Once the sobs stopped, he let go of your body. His eyes scanning your red eyes and wet cheeks. You wanted to wipe your tears, so he wouldn’t see them, but it was impossible at the moment, your hands still not regenerated.

“I’m sorry about your arms. But I couldn’t let you go away like that.” He sounded ashamed, which was a kind of out of character of him. Levi’s icy fingers caressed your cheeks, as he caught a stray droplet that was sliding down your face." Erwin wants to see you in his office, but I’ll take you there when your arms grow back… Would that make you feel safer?.”  He asked, concerned.

“Yeah… actually that would help.” Going face to face with the commander who you’ve been lying to for years, without a way of defending yourself was scary. 

“All right.” He conceded.

As if it was the most common thing in the world Levi moved the covers away and sat by my side. A blush crept up your neck at the close proximity.

“What are you doing!?”  You asked, flustered. Since when was the stoic captain so comfortable being in someone else’s personal space?

“Shut up. After everything that happened, the least you could do is let me rest. It’s been over 48 hours since I had a nap.” He laid down and pulled the covers up to our shoulders.  “I’ll be more at ease if I monitor you, just in case someone tries something funny… Unless you’re opposed to the idea?” His eyes bore into your own, making the temperature of the room rise a few degrees. What were you supposed to reply? Shaking your head no you settled next to him, looking at the roof as you tried to ignore Levi’s proximity, pleading your heart to slow down, afraid he might  hear it. 

“Good.” He answered, closing his eyes  “Oh, and (Y/n)… I’ll always have your back,  you can trust me so don’t lie to me again. Got it?” 

He turned around after that, his back now to you. 

Your heart sped up even more, and the feelings for Levi you tried to hide for such a long time resurfaced. And, no matter what his cold demanor was, at moments like this you could tell he cared for you too. 

You knew you’ll be all right if he was on your side. 

✘ Masterlist

[allthingshetalia]

Hello! I don't mean to pressure you, but how long does responding to requests take? I've sent a Russia and child!reader request 2 weeks ago and I'm just not sure if you got the ask or it got swallowed by tumblr

It depends on the request. Some asks I have writers block for and others ask I get excited to answer it and I know fully what I want to write about it and I can get it done quickly. Tumblr eats quite a few asks. Sometimes I can get up to 10-15 asks a day. Like when I just opened my inbox up yesterday and I already have 24 asks in my ask box. Because of that a lot of asks end up getting lost in the abyss of my inbox and I don’t even see them, until a month later and I feel horrible for that. I completed a large amount of asks over the break and have them scheduled but I don’t remember seeing anything about a child and Russia. I remember seeing your little icon but I think that was for something else. So sorry for the wait!!!

But for now here’s some Russia with a child!

Your tiny feet pattered down the long hallway. The dim light casted shadows all over the walls causing the beat of your heart to increase. You finally stopped infront of an large wooden door. A small rope was attached to the handel. You could just reach the door handle on your own but you could never get a good grip on it to open it. The rope allowed you to open it with ease.

Tugging the rope, the door softly opened and you peaked your head through it. The large Russian heard his door click open, causing him to look away from his paperwork. He smiled softly when you saw your small head peak from the other side of the door but frowned once he realized what time it was.

“What are you doing up, Sunflower?” He asked softly. He pushed his large swivel chair away from his desk and opened his arms for you. You quickly pushed the rest of the door open and bolted to the safety of his arms. He picked you up and held you softly to his chest, rocking you back and forth humming a light lullaby. You lifted your head away from his chest and looked at him.

“I had a bad dream.” You whispered. Ivan nodded his head knowingly and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arm was tucked under your butt holding you up close to his chest and he stood up from his seat.

“What gave you such a bad dream?” He hummed. His other hand pressed against your back to make sure you didn’t fall. His fingers drummed against your back lulling you into a relaxed state.

“I don’t know.” You admitted. “It wasn’t super scary as most of them are. I was lost in a park and couldn’t find you.” You admitted. You watched as the walls of the hallway turned into the walls of his bedroom.

“That is scary. I’m just happy you aren’t crying. That just shows how brave you are.” Ivan soothed. He pulled his heavy blankets back and laid down with you still on his chest. You both sighed comfortably as he pulled the covers up so they were covering your chilled legs, that you bedtime shorts failed to cover.

“You don’t like it when I cry?” You asked. You sleepily lifted your head and rested your chin against his chest, waiting for an answer.

“I hate it when you cry, Sunflower. It hurts me very much. But everyone must cry sometimes, even though it can hurt.” The large Russian pressed your head against his chest again, his strong heartbeat thudding against you ear. His hand patted your back softly, reminding you that he is there- and he always will be.

Headcons

While Ivan May not be your first choice in who you think would be great at raising a child- he is magnificent with children

His whole demeanor is very fairytale like

He’s very tall, he had rare violet eyes, he had snowy hair

He’s built like a warrior/giant type figure, especially with his long coat that’ll flow in the wind

Kids are very naive and trusting

Which will give him the perfect opportunity to show how good he actually is!

He is especially good with little boys because a lot of them wanna be like him when they grow up

He is very protective of things that are near and dear to him

That being said his children would be quite sheltered from the world

This doesn’t mean they will be weak or dependent

They will just have a more positive outlook on life

He is great at hide and seek

He’s not great at hiding because of how large he is but that is great for kids because they don’t want to have to look through a whole house to find him

He’s really good at finding though and it’s funny because he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know where they are adding to the innocent suspense

His children will have a variety of coats and winter attire that is the most fashionable and adorable thing he can find

Snowman are always outside the house

And snowflakes and little drawings are hung up in the window causing the intimidating house to look a lot softer

I also know for a fact that Belarus would be the best aunt ever!

So would Ukraine but she wouldn’t be around as much

Belarus would be so much fun to play with even though she is quite serious she would make sure you had a great time

She would also be the disciplinary though

So if you want something (like going to bed late, or having another scoop of ice cream) you go to Ivan

You would definitely get a pet

It’ll probably be something like a hamster or a fish to start out with but you’ll have a dog or cat before you know it

Lots of fireplace cuddles and drinking hot coco

He will honestly be such a great dad and no one can convince me otherwise!!!!

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 11: Long Live The Queen

(from ‘The Conman and the Maid’ Series)

…in which Y/N tries to prevent a war, and Harry has to move on.

Word count: 6k

AU: princess!y/n, conman!harry, prisoner!harry.

Series description: Y/N is a princess and Harry is a prisoner in her castle. With his help, she escapes from her arranged marriage in search of a happy ending, if there is one.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

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Y/N had thought of all the worst ways this could go wrong. She could be dragged to the throne room for an audience with Her Majesty, before getting locked up in a dungeon. Her father had taught her that the scariest monarchs weren’t always the most ruthless, but often the most naive. Those were the ones who ended up making senseless judgments that would take great dynasties with them to hell. In Y/N’s head, Calanthe was that kind of monarch.

As soon as Y/N crossed the castle portcullis, two royal guards were appointed to escort her to see the Queen. She was treated more like a guest than a wanted subject, which made her fear for what was waiting for her in the throne room. They’d confiscated her sword and dagger the moment she’d unmounted her horse, so if Calanthe’s executioner was waiting behind the door to surprise her with an axe, then all she could do was pray that he would miss. It was a stupid scenario and politically impossible, but she doubted Calanthe knew anything about politics.

“Your Royal Majesty,” the footman announced as the guards open the giant doors, “Princess Y/N of Isolde.”

The throne room was brightly lit by multiple floor-to-ceiling windows on each side, marble pillars holding up the ceiling as it arched high above. Y/N raced through her memories back to the last time she’d been here. She’d been a child running barefoot down this same aisle, up the steps to her uncle’s throne, where he sat with a shiny crown on top of his grey head. He’d let her sit on his lap as they’d listened to music and watched the people dance all around. It had been magical.

This room looked almost the same as the one in her memory, but at the same time, so much different. They had removed all royal gold decorations and replaced them with black curtains to mourn the death of the King. The whole kingdom had to wear black. The whole kingdom except for its new ruler.

The top of the velvet-carpeted stairs was occupied by two thrones; the smaller one was empty as its previous master was now seated in the one for the King. Calanthe, with Edgar’s gold crown on top of her pretty head, was holding a sceptre and wearing a red dress, the full skirt of which was so large it covered half of the throne.

Y/N had heard that Calanthe was beautiful, but standing before Theros’ new Queen, she must say that Calanthe’s beauty was one of a kind. So full of rage, yet so vulnerable. Calanthe didn’t look like a queen; she looked like a sad girl who was forced to wear the crown. After all, Calanthe was just Egon’s age. Harry’s age.

Just the sound of his name in Y/N’s head caused her icy heart to burn. The fire was immediately put out when Calanthe tapped the sceptre on the stone floor. The white-bearded man standing on her right, whom Y/N hadn’t noticed until now, bowed his head as if Calanthe had said something to him, then he turned to Y/N, his frown rather fierce.

“Princess Y/N of Isolde, I suppose you have forgotten courtesy, as you have yet paid respect to Queen Calanthe. After all, you are a guest in Her Majesty’s court.”

“My apology, Your Majesty.” Y/N curtsied despite herself. “I was not aware that I was a guest.”

“How so, Princess?” Calanthe finally spoke, her voice was loud and challenging.

Hands clasped behind her back, shoulders back, Y/N returned the Queen an equally intense gaze. “You have made me a wanted subject and offered a monetary prize for whoever would turn me in. I felt more like an enemy than a guest. But perhaps Theros has conformed with a new kind of hospitality since the King passed away.”

“Insolent girl!” The sceptre hit the floor so loud the sound echoed within these high walls. Calanthe’s beautiful face was taut with anger as she raised her voice, “How dare you stand before a monarch and speak in that tone?”

Y/N balled her fists. “How dare you wear red while the entire kingdom is in mourning?”

She heard the clinking of armours as the guards shifted from their posts, waiting for an order from their queen to take Y/N away. Chin lifted high, Y/N pretended not to know of her offence and stared back at the Queen, as if challenging Calanthe to behead her if she could.

“The dead are dead. The living must go on,” Calanthe said with an expression as cold as ice. “After all, sadness is weakness. I would rather be hated than pitied.”

Y/N almost said that she felt both hatred and pity for the Queen, but she kept that to herself. “Sadness is not weakness,” she said. “Those who accept sadness but not surrender to it are the strongest people in the world.”

“Don’t be arrogant, Princess.” A hidden smile was detected in Calanthe’s mocking tone.

Y/N took a breath and unclenched her fists. “When a man speaks so highly of himself, he’s called brave. When a woman does so, she’s arrogant.” She arched an eyebrow. “As a woman yourself, Your Majesty, you ought to know that.”

The old man – who Y/N believed was the Lord Chancellor – opened his mouth to tell her off, but was interrupted by Calanthe’s raised hand. She gave her sceptre to her footman who accepted it with both hands. Y/N stood still as the Queen rose up to her full height and descended the steps toward Y/N. Calanthe appeared smaller and less intimidating than she had on the throne. She motioned for the guards, the footman, and the Lord Chancellor to leave the two of them alone.

“But Your Majesty…” said the Lord Chancellor, seemingly reluctant as his eyes were fixed on Y/N.

“Don’t worry, my lord,” said the Queen over her shoulder. “She doesn’t have any weapon.”

Y/N flashed a mischievous smile at the old man, meaning to say she didn’t need any weapon to take down the Queen, especially while Calanthe was wearing this ridiculously enormous dress that she could barely move in. The Lord Chancellor frowned ferociously at Y/N but dared not to disobey the Queen’s order.

The doors were shut, and the throne room grew more tranquil than before.

“I know you know I didn’t murder my uncle,” Y/N blurted out, her eyebrows drawn as she watched Calanthe slowly circled around her, eyeing her up and down.

“I don’t know if you’d done it yourself, Princess. But you must have taken part in the murder. After all, the North has been our only enemy for centuries. Even while my dear sister-in-law was still alive, the alliance between our kingdoms felt rather forced.”

Y/N had to refrain herself from rolling her eyes. “The grudge between our houses has nothing to do with my personal feelings for my uncle. I loved him dearly. He was family.”

Calanthe stopped in front of Y/N once again, her fingers laced together resting flat against her stomach. “But your brother had always hated my dear Edgar. Are you telling me you’d betray your brother, your King, for the South?”

“I’m not here to discuss the matter of war–”

“Ah.” Calanthe lifted a finger. “Who said anything about war? Or is that the reason you’re here? To threaten me and declare war if I don’t agree to whatever terms you’re about to offer?”

“Quite the opposite actually,” Y/N calmly replied. “If you accused me of the murder of my uncle, then you’re falling right into Egon’s trap. The North would never start a war with the South for no reason.” I’m that reason, she meant.

“How do I know for sure you weren’t sent here to say these things?” Calanthe stuck up her tiny nose. “For all I know, you could be your brother’s pawn.”

“My brother hates me,” Y/N said with a straight face since it was a fact she’d learned to accept.

Calanthe nodded understandingly, but Y/N knew she had completely misinterpreted Y/N’s intentions. “You ran away with a man, didn’t you? How courtly,” Calanthe said, her lips arched in a ridiculing manner. “With that, I have more reasons to not trust anything you’re saying, Princess.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty–” Y/N’s voice was rough, but Calanthe didn’t let her finish.

“Your brother must have something against you. Perhaps...your lover?” The word stabbed Y/N in the guts, and she believed Calanthe could see it. A smirk stretched the Queen’s dark red lips. “You and your family have so many flaws. The biggest one yet was that you don’t usually use your heart, and when you do, you let it control you.” Calanthe stopped shoulder to shoulder with Y/N, her face so close Y/N could feel the Queen breathing down her neck. “I heard your father died because of a broken heart. Will you die the same way, too? That, I’d love to find out.”

Y/N bit her lip as she clenched her fists, fighting the temptation of yanking Calanthe’s shiny curls and slamming her to the floor.

“I could offer you a deal,” Calanthe said, pulling away. “Be our ally. Tell my court your brother was the one who’d murdered the King, and you’ll be alive to see your lover again. After all, he’s a Southerner, isn’t he? If you’re telling the truth, that your brother hates you, your people probably hate you, too. So you have nothing to hold onto in that rotten kingdom. I take the North, avenge our beloved Edgar, and you’ll finally have the life you want, with someone you truly love.”

A traitorous thought crossed Y/N’s mind, and she almost told Calanthe exactly what Calanthe wanted to hear. But then her mouth clamped shut and she stared at her feet. She would choose Harry above everything else, but if to be with him was to sacrifice the lives of thousands of innocent people, she couldn’t do it. Harry would never let her do it.

“I’d like to refuse that nonsensical offer, Your Majesty.” She wasn’t thinking when she said it with the most condescending tone, but she didn’t regret it. “Unlike you, I cannot accuse anyone of murder without any proof.”

Calanthe gave a mirthless grin. “Then you must not leave my court until the trial and hope we’ll find proof that you didn’t do it. Guards!”

“I’m not your enemy, Your Majesty,” Y/N said as the guards came to take her away. “You’re making a big mistake.”

“Brave of you to tell a queen she’s making a mistake,” Calanthe said over her shoulders and proceeded to ascend the stairs back to her throne. “Escort the princess to her room,” she said, sitting down. “We’ll treat her as a guest until the trial.”

“You don’t hold people hostage before finding proof that they’d committed a crime,” Y/N said when the guards were right behind her, so close she felt the coolness from their armours against her bare arms.

Calanthe looked her directly in the eye, and for one moment, the Queen forgot she was supposed to show no weakness. “Your family murdered mine, you whore,” she hissed, her voice trembling with dark emotions. “You and your brother will pay for the crimes your foolish father had committed.”

Y/N thinned her lips to hold back the curses piling on her tongue, then she let the guards take her away.

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“Harry, you need to leave the house,” his sister had said. So he’d listened and left the house.

It’d been a week since he’d lost Y/N and he’d been doing nothing since. He felt numb all over from lying in one place and only getting up whenever he must. He hated this. This whole ‘after her’ bullshit. Sometimes he hated it so much he just wanted to rip his heart out so he wouldn’t have to feel anything again.

He couldn’t even allow himself to think about what she might be doing now, because whenever he started to form a single thought about it, it ended up being bad, terrible, the worst. For all he knew, they might be torturing her. Then he reminded himself that it was better for her to be in Calanthe’s court than in her brother’s. Calanthe wasn’t the best queen, but she wasn’t cruel.

Anyway, tonight, he went out.

There was this tavern that he and Stefan used to visit when they’d been young boys. After the war, he’d come on his own, sometimes with Kenny, and the people there didn’t hate him so that’d be a good start. He mostly fooled the rich, never the poor. So it was better to always surround himself with the ones from the lowest class.

When he’d left his house, he’d brought with him a bottle of ale he’d stolen from the sisters’ cottage, from Mary, after he and she had done the nasty thing he couldn’t even think about without wanting to vomit. He should have been a better person and appreciated every moment he’d had with Y/N. Most of the things he could recall had been awful. Sadly how those were the memories he had to cling to now that she was gone.

Anger and sadness made him bitter and dramatic. Y/N had told him so.

Before stepping into the tavern, he met a lady who’d arrived in a carriage. She looked like one of those rich wives who had too much time and money on their hands, so they went to these poorer areas to discover what it felt like to truly ‘live’.

Well, bad news for you, lady. It’s not all that great. Harry would trade lives with her any day. Rich people like her could be invited to royal balls and such. If possible, he could borrow her looks to get into one of those parties where Y/N might be and watch her from afar, just to make sure she was happy and well.

Anyway, no more Y/N. Not tonight.

He pitied the rich lady, but when she flashed a shy smile at him, he saw an opportunity. Before he knew it, he’d started a conversation with her, lied that he wasn’t from here, just a merchant passing by, and offered to buy her a drink. He hoped to have stripped off all those flashy jewellery on her flawless body in some cheap inn and left before dawn.

As he escorted the stranger into the tavern, Y/N’s ring on his finger sparkled in the candlelight as if reminding him of what she’d said before she’d left, about wanting him to be a better man. He pushed those words to the back of his mind. What was the point of being a better man if it wasn’t for her?

He drank and drank and realized the lady was a better drinker than he’d thought. Most of the ones he’d got involved with in the past would have dragged him to their carriage already. This one had been ranting on and on about how much she hated her husband, and that she’d only married him because her family had wanted her to. Harry poured her some more ale so she would stop talking; if he felt sorry for her, he wouldn’t be able to steal from her.

For a second, in his mind, Y/N had managed to dig her way up and turned into the lady sitting right in front of him. Y/N would look good in these clothes. Because they were more fitting for a princess. Although he bet the dresses she wore were a thousand times more costly and beautiful. He would never get to see her in them.

The lady opened her mouth to speak. And Y/N disappeared.

As the tavern got more and more crowded, the lady paid for the drinks, tapped Harry on the shoulder, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. She said she’d wait for him in her carriage and go wherever he wanted to go next. Watching her strut back to the front door, he could only imagine one place he wanted to go. Home. With his Y/N-scented pillow. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d been pathetically in love with her.

Discontented and a bit woozy, he got up and gulped the ale from the bottle he’d brought. For a reason he couldn’t explain, it tasted better than regular ale. The only thing he didn’t regret about that night with Mary had been drinking this.

“Have you heard? They finally caught that princess.”

A high-pitched voice caught his attention. He whipped around to find a group of fat old men sitting around a small table. Their faces were as red as the drinks in the cups, and they were laughing too loudly, probably too drunk to care about anyone else.

“She killed her uncle,” one said. “I hope they hang her. The bitch will go to hell for her sins.”

“I heard she ran away with a prisoner,” another chimed in. “She must be a dirty little whore who loves poor men’s cocks.”

"Bet she'd suck my cock. I'd fuck her real good."

Blood rose up to Harry's face as he squeezed his fists too tight they were shaking. He was just about to launch himself at them when a small hand locked around his wrist. He turned fast, about to fight, but then the flicker of fear in Kenny’s brown eyes froze him to the spot. He let her tug him through the crowded tavern, his feet following hers without knowing why. The next moment, they were outside the back door. Though the night air chilled his skin, he felt hot from inside. Just like that night with Mary.

What was happening to him? His heartbeat was as loud as thunder. The scenes around him started spinning. He leaned back against the brick wall. The moonlight was too bright, the muffled voices from inside were too loud. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long breath of fresh air to cool his lungs. When he blinked and his sight was clear, he found Kenny staring at him.

“I saw what you were doing in there,” she huffed. “What happened? Where’s Rain?”

His heart stopped at the sound of her name. It wasn’t really her name. Still…

She was what he saw. She was there in front of him. He clutched her shoulders and yanked her into his arms. She seemed startled but didn’t push him away, so he gripped her tighter.

“What’s wrong?” She sounded different, but every single muscle on his body was aching for her, he couldn’t care less.

“Please come home with me,” he said.

“All right,” she agreed, stroking his back. “Everything will be okay, Crow.”

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When Harry woke up, he was almost blinded by the light. He shielded his eyes with one arm and tried to move his aching muscles in order to sit up. It felt like someone was pounding on the back of his head. His skull hurt so badly he wanted to smash it like a pumpkin.

Before he could wonder if this was a dream, reality, or after-death, he saw Gemma sitting on the mattress right beside him, her legs folded, her chin in her hand.

“What happened to me?” he asked, kneading his temples to ease the headache.

Gemma screwed up her face in question. “Don’t you remember anything from last night?”

“I was at a tavern,” he said to his lap.

“You were going to steal from an innocent lady, Harry.”

Though he wasn’t looking at Gemma, he could imagine how sad and disappointed she looked. He remembered it now. Well, most of it. He’d been at a tavern, with a rich lady, and then there were these men, and then…

“I thought you wouldn’t do it again,” Gemma interrupted his thought. “After you got caught–”

“I got caught for saving a woman from evil men who tried to rape her. I never got caught for stealing and cheating,” he snapped. “The rich aren’t innocent, you know. All the money they got was from exploiting people like us.”

When Gemma exhaled sharply into her palm, he expected her to get up and storm out of the room. But then she said, “If Kenny hadn’t shown up, you would have got into a fight, Harry. Someone in that tavern could have died last night.”

Harry felt a chill coursing right through him. “Kenny?”

Gemma nodded, the corners of her lips turned down. “She brought you back here and left right away. You should apologise. She was very mad.”

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

He wasn’t sure if he did. He didn’t even know what had been a dream and what had been real.

“You said you loved her,” Gemma cried out. “And you called her Peach and that was awful, Harry. You know she still loves you.”

Harry shook his head rapidly. Impossible, he thought. He’d seen Y/N in the flesh. It’d felt so real that he wasn’t sure if it’d been a dream. One moment it’d been Kenny, then the next he’d found himself hugging Y/N.

Just like that night with Mary.

“The ale!” he exclaimed, making Gemma flinch. “It was a love potion. It made me see things. It made me see her. Those...those sisters have...m-magic powers. They’re real witches.”

“Witches?! Heaven’s sakes! What are you–”

“I have to go.”

“Go where?” Gemma shot up to her feet and chased him out of the room. He was about to grab his sword when she jumped right in front of him, arms spread, panting. “You’re not going anywhere, Harry.”

“I have to,” he breathed heavily, holding her shoulders. “I have to...I have to find the sisters. They can save Peach. They saved her once. They’d do it again.”

“Stop!” Gemma shouted, which wasn't like her at all. He stiffened when she crashed into his, her arms tightened around his waist. “I’m not letting you go again, Harry,” she cried into his chest. “I know you don’t care about your life but Ma and I do. If you leave now, chances are you won’t ever come back. The princess chose her destiny and you need to let her go. You’re hurting yourself and all the people who love you.”

“What if I tell you I must go?” he asked, tears stinging his eyes. “I can’t sit here and...and let her suffer on her own.”

“It’s her fate, not yours,” Gemma trembled as she pulled back to meet his eyes. “You have to choose, Harry. Her or us.”

“Gemma, please…”

“Her or us, Harry,” Gemma thundered, her eyes glossy and sharp. He regarded her face for a long moment while a thousand thoughts raced through his mind.

Gemma wasn’t wrong. If he died from trying to help Y/N, it wouldn’t matter to him, but there’d be no one to look after his family. They would be miserable. He’d promised to let Y/N go and be a better man, so would she be happy if he went against her words, even if it was to save her? Of course not. She might even despise him. She didn’t have a family, and he almost abandoned his.

“All right,” he told his sister, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “I’ll stay. But can you help me with something?”

“Anything, as long as you stay,” she said with a faltering smile.

“Can you find someone to deliver a letter for me? I’ll write to those sisters in the woods and ask for their help. That’s...the least I can do for Peach.”

“I believe Caleb knows someone who can help you,” Gemma said as she placed her hands over his and squeezed. From the look she was giving him, he believed there was something more. “Talk to Kenny, Harry,” she said at last. “If you care for her, she deserves to know how you truly feel.”

“We’ve already had that talk.”

“When you admitted that you were in love with Y/N?”

“I never–She knew anyway. I-I think she knew,” he stuttered.

Gemma pursed her lips, seemingly not so pleased to hear that. “You can’t expect her to just know what’s in your heart without telling her. If you can’t love someone in return, the least you could do was be honest about it. Talk to her, will you?”

Gemma raised her eyebrows pleadingly. So Harry sighed as he gave a nod. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to her.”

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Y/N had been here for a week or more; she wasn’t sure. She only knew she was going insane. The one person she’d interacted with was the maid assigned to clean her and bring her food. This felt like her childhood all over again. At least when her father had ordered to have her locked up, she’d known she’d be free when the time was done.

This morning, after she’d got dressed, the door swung open and it wasn’t the maid who came in. The little footman she’d seen in the throne room cleared his throat as he stopped in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back. “Princess Y/N,” he announced. “You’ve been requested for an audience with Her Royal Majesty, immediately.”

Two possibilities:

1. Calanthe had finally changed her mind.

2. Egon was here.

However, the latter seemed more likely.

From what she’d heard from the guards attending the door, Egon had been on his way to Theros since he’d received the news of their uncle’s death. He must have done it. Somehow he’d created all this chaos and everyone was playing the part he’d assigned for them. Y/N couldn’t think of any way this could get worse than this, but she knew better than to build her hopes up.

“Has the Queen changed her mind?” she asked the little man as the guards escorted them across the courtyard. He didn’t answer and continued walking ahead of her. Watching his tiny head bobbing as he went got on her nerves. She sucked in a breath and raised her voice, “Or is my brother here to see me?”

The man let out a huff but didn’t face her or slow down. “You ask too many questions,” he grumbled. “Just wait until you see Her Majesty.”

“Why can’t you tell me now? What’s with this dramatic suspense anyway?”

When he finally slowed down and looked at her over his shoulder, it was to shoot her a disapproving glare. If it weren’t for these giants in armours stalking behind them, she would grab his tiny head and bang it against the wall. It was weird how this was the normal way the members of the gentry treated people below them (she was certainly not below him, but Southerners had always looked down on her people), yet she hadn’t noticed it before because she hadn’t met kind people like Harry and his family.

His face flashed through her mind and vanished the moment they entered a long corridor leading to the throne room. They passed a group of men dressed in all black. They might be the Queen’s courtiers. Why were they wearing those mysterious black cloaks with giant hoods that covered their faces? And where had she met them before?

In a matter of seconds, when they crossed paths, one of them lifted his head to gaze straight into her eyes. She nearly gasped out loud as she snapped her head back to watch him walk away. Those scars on his mad face. She’d only got a glimpse of it, but she knew she was the one who’d left those marks. And he was the one who’d attacked her.

She lurched forward in the opposite direction, but the guards caught her arms and twisted them behind her back to drag her toward the throne room. She tried to break free but they were much stronger, it was no use. She would have managed to escape and catch up with those men if she had her sword.

Why were they in Calanthe’s court?

Had one of them murdered her uncle?

Could Calanthe be the one behind all this? What were her motives anyway? Revenge wasn’t worth committing this gruesome crime. Especially when uncle Edgar had saved her life and loved her unconditionally.

“Your Royal Majesty, Princess Y/N is here.”

Suddenly, nothing made sense anymore.

“Go in there and don’t forget to show courtesy,” the man told Y/N as she shrugged the guards away and straightened her sleeves.

This time, she scowled at him. “I never forget. I'd only return courtesy once I receive it.” Then she ignored the startlement on his face and entered the room.

“Dear sister!” Oh fuck. “You’re safe!” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Egon’s arms closed around her, hard. His hugs were the most unpleasant; it always felt like he wanted to strangle her. She believed he might actually do that once they got out of here. Right now, he had to play his part.

He released her from his grip after what seemed like forever, then grabbed her face and swept his eyes down her body with a look of pity. She knew he felt nothing from deep inside. He could mimic human’s emotions but he couldn’t feel them. She’d heard her maids joke that when he bled, his blood turned to ice. It wasn’t until now that she believed it.

Thud Thud Thud

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the sound of Calanthe’s sceptre hitting the floor. The Queen must have seen that reaction but didn’t make any remark about it.

“Lovely,” she said wryly. “However, I believe we weren’t done with our...discussion.”

“Oh, we were.” Egon smiled at the Queen, whose face was taut with rage.

It was only now that Y/N surveyed the room and saw no more than five Northern soldiers. Egon always travelled with at least ten. Maybe he wanted to show that he’d come in peace, which was far from the truth.

“I’m taking my sister home,” he asserted.

“And I cannot stop you,” said Calanthe from her throne. “I just want to make sure that you do realize what it would cost you and your people. In my court, people don’t just come and go as they please.”

“She’s not one of your subjects, Calanthe. She’s the princess of Isolde,” Egon said as he tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s face. “Soon to be Queen of Attwell.”

“What?” Y/N mumbled as her heart jumped. Murmurs from the courtiers got her ears buzzing but couldn’t take her attention away from her brother, who smiled devilishly at her. She should have seen this coming.

“I beg your pardon?” Calanthe asked. For the first time, Y/N had to agree.

“She’s going to marry Kavan Gennady, Prince of Attwell,” Egon announced to the whole court. The whisperings grew louder.

“Didn’t she run away with a prisoner?” Calanthe mocked, and everyone started talking on top of each other. The Queen slammed her sceptre on the ground and the room fell to silence once again.

Y/N knew Calanthe had said that to shame her, but she was glad someone had reminded Egon of what she’d done. Maybe he’d reconsider his decision to marry her off to Kavan Gennady.

“After our investigation, it turned out that she was kidnapped.”

Everyone gasped at the same time.

“Were you?” Calanthe’s gaze jumped to Y/N, who hadn’t got a chance to answer when Egon interjected.

“Anyway, my sister’s marriage is none of your concern, Calanthe.”

Calanthe grimaced. “She’s a murder suspect and you’re about to take her from my court before the trial.”

“If she’s a murder suspect, show us all the evidence.”

“There shall be evidence presented at the trial.”

“So there’s no evidence,” Egon proclaimed, spreading his arm as he spun around like he’d just performed a magic trick in front of Calanthe’s court. The audience was awfully quiet. All eyes focused on their new Queen, who was unable to hide her distress.

“If you leave my court now–”

“There shall be a war,” Egon challenged with his nose stuck up. “I think I’m more aware of how politics work. No offence.”

Calanthe slammed her sceptre once again and jumped to her feet. “How dare you say that to a queen?”

“Because I’m a king, Calanthe,” Egon said, his expression stone cold. “And when I’m here, I’m not bound by your rules. Neither is my sister.”

“Are you challenging me?”

Egon gave her question a dismissive wave. “My presence in your court is already a challenge, my dear. I’m taking Y/N with me whether you like it or not. And you and I shall meet again on the battlefield. Ifyou’re going to be there, of course.”

The Lord Chancellor leaned in to whisper something in the Queen’s ear. Nodding her head, she sucked in a breath as anger coloured her face. Soon she was almost as red as the colour of her dress. “We shall,” she agreed. “Your heads will look so good on my curtain wall.”

“Don’t flatter me. Red looks better on you, Calanthe,” Egon said and motioned for his soldiers to escort Y/N out of the room. Y/N shot an apologetic glance at Calanthe before she left, and in that moment, she saw fear crossing the Queen’s tiny face.

As soon as they stepped into the courtyard, Egon smacked Y/N across the face and sent her straight to the ground. She winced, cupping her cheek which burnt after the slap, but she didn’t get up until two of his men hauled her up by the arms.

Egon brushed her hair out of her face and pinched her cheeks hard. “Did you really think you could escape me, you stupid bitch?”

She breathed harshly through her nose, holding his aggressive stare. “Please, Egon,” she muttered. “Don’t do this. Thousands of people will die. Women and children–You might die!”

He tossed his head back and burst out laughing as if she’d just told a joke. “The other kingdoms have turned their backs to Theros,” he said, his face scrunched up again. “Do you really think they would respect a woman as a ruler? Don’t be stupid, dear sister. Just look at the faces in that room. They could not wait to witness her defeat. Most of them might even surrender before we attack this castle. So no, I’m not afraid of death. Death should be afraid of me.”

Y/N tried to turn her face away, but her arms were restricted and Egon was pinching her cheeks so hard her jaw began to ache.

“You see, this is why women don’t rule,” he said through his gritted teeth. “They let their feelings guide the way, let their hearts make decisions. You, just like her, are only a pawn.”

“No,” she managed to speak.

“No?” He squeezed even tighter as if he wanted to pluck her jaw out of her head. “Oh, right. You’re not a pawn, are you? You’re going to be a queen.” His brows drew together as he bared his white teeth like a predator, his hot breath fanning her face, his eyes going dark. “Long live the Queen.”