Fanfic writer for fandoms such as Peaky Blinders, It (2017), Game of Thrones, MCU, You, and more. Usually dealing with triggering and darker subjects. NSFW. Most content not recommended for anyone under the age of 18. Please proceed to consume content with caution.
Hello, I'm Crow. I'm a fanfic writer who usually writes for darker characters with darker themes. This blog may be potentially triggering for some of you. I will tag triggers as I go along, however if something needs to be tagged, please let me know. Please do not interact if you are under the age of 18.
Currently, I Write For:
Game of Thrones
Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)
The Witcher
You (Netflix)
Dune
Peaky Blinders
It (2017 Film)
Westworld
Fandoms I Am A Part Of But Haven't Written For Yet:
House of the Dragon
The Boys
Sinners (2025 Film)
A Court of Thorns and Roses
The Cruel Prince
Shadow and Bone/ Six of Crows
Baldur's Gate 3
I'm very talkative and I love to be bothered, so don't mind dropping an ask or message. Please submit requests, questions, and all else here.
Requests are CLOSED. (July 16, 2023)
I do not have any rules at this time for requests. All that I require is that you ask nicely. I will always announce when I open or close requests.
Here are all of my masterlists. (To be updated soon.)
My usual posting schedule here is Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
Thank you all for being so patient with me. Let's get that out of the way. I'm still here. I spent a good time drafting things and relogging into Ao3 (would you believe lost my log in info???)
A few notes before I start posting again:
Masterlist
I really gotta come up with a comprehensive masterlist that encompasses my old blog, this blog, and my Ao3. I have no idea where to start as I am intimidated by it all. (i have a lot of fics, mmkay?) I welcome any and all ideas.
I already have a Google Sheet containing the archive of my old blog here.
And here is my Ao3
Requests
I usually don't have many rules for requests. However, I had a request that spanned over the course of six, different asks. While I appreciate the enthusiasm of this particular Nonbon, I do not think I can fulfill what they have asked of me. I will state this in rules that requests may only be encompassed in one ask/submission.
And to the Nonbon who came to me with their with detailed and years long thoughts on Peaky Blinders and Thomas Shelby having a secret child with someone in France...this is an incredible idea. I wish I had the time to dedicate to write this for you. Truth is, I do not and therefore I cannot do it justice.
That should do it for now. I'll be switching things around here and I'm editing/drafting up other requests as we speak. I'll be back to normal soon. - Crow
Wanted to say take your time writing!! Work/jobs are utter hell so it's understandable that the requests are taking a bit, I myself have taken a break to try to job hunt and its TORTURE,,,just know that we love ur stuff so idc if its gonna be 10 words or 1000, i shall be sat and waiting patiently while cheering you on!! đ«¶đ«¶
Thank you, Nonbon.
Both work and family have been taking up a lot of my attentions. I am cursed with a double edged sword. I am the eldest daughter and the Very Important Person at my job.
Which, by the way, I am in no means a manager or a supervisor (at least title wise). I am just an overworked secretary who's given 5 new impossible projects a day.
As for job searching, allow me to come in with a bit of personal advice. It is often that one loses their motivation because job searching steals a lot of joy. Please remember that you have value, worth, and grit. It is hard to measure those traits on a piece of paper or worse, to a computer who's job it is to judge you.
Take a breath. Remember you are valuable.
And thank you all for having patience. I'll be back up and running smoothly soon.
Hello! I'm kind of new to the Dune hype ans was wondering if you have any fic recs? I'm making my way through your works but I'm also kind of interested in Gurney fics, do you happen to know of any of those or would yoy be willing to write any?
Thanks in advance :)
(I've read both youvebeenlivingfictional's and salt-is-a-terrible-currency's Gurney x reader oneshots and everything else listed under Gurney x reader on the archive)
Ah, I believe I must have missed this one during my first round of questions when I came back to Tumblr. I cannot recommend Gurney fics because I haven't read any.
This is a gap in my knowledge.
However, the fanfic community is large, helpful, and reliable. I'm sure one of you knows where nonbon can get a good Gurney fic???
I don't know if you're still doing request, if you're not ignore đđ, but could you do a part 4 of the Peaky Blinders story where reader is the youngest brother and he snitched, you kinda left on a cliff hanger and I was hoping you could finish it, please and thank you. đđ
Pairing: Shelby Brothers X Youngest Brother!Male!Reader
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Authorâs Warnings/ Notes: This is Part Four of a Set of Imagines that highlight physical sibling abuse, physical violence, death threats, and suicide ideation. This last imagine was difficult for me to write. Perhaps, that's why I let it hang until now. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. MINORS DNI.
[ Part One ] [ Part Two ] [ Part Three ]
Thomas Shelby froze in his spot. For the first time, the consequences of his actions laid out perfectly in front of him. Your words repeated in his head as his eyes studied the cold metal against his daughterâs chin.
âIâm all the way down now, Thomas.â
The sentence echoed and haunted him in ways he hadnât comprehended yet. He took a big, steadying breath.
âLet Lizzie and Charles leave.â He asked of you first.
âTommy.â Lizzie snapped. âI am not going anywhere without her.â
âPatience, Lizzie.â You said. âHeâs negotiating. Heâs choosing where his priorities lie. Be glad he thought of you for once.â The biting words struck a cord with both Thomas and Lizzie. You spoke a hard truth out loud for the house staff to hear.
Yet, Thomas didnât lunge forward and he didnât yell at you. He negotiated again. âThis is between us, yeah? Let Lizzie and Charles leave.â
Your tongue pushed the flesh of your cheek in thought. âAlright.â You shrugged.
Lizzie looked at Thomas immediately. âIâm not leaving without her. Do you hear me?â
Thomas didnât look at Lizzie. His jaw set. You were always too clever for your own good. There was a reason you went to school while he, Arthur, and John ran the business. All four of you were born from your fatherâs cruel seed. There was a darkness in each of you.
Unfortunately, you suffered the most under your fatherâs care. Thomas never said it out loud, but he thought he would be protecting everyone from you if he sent you to school.
âLeave Lizzie.â Thomas order. His chest grew tight. âSend the entire house staff home.â
âGood man. Less audience.â You smiled.
Lizzie urged him again. âThomasâ
âDo as I say. This isnât up for negotiation.â Thomas finally flickered a gaze to his second wife. Lizzie nodded in silent understanding. As soon as Lizzie was made to leave, Ruby squirmed in your lap. Your free hand covered her mouth. Thomas stiffened.
âNow, how to get Ruby out of here?â You teased. âHow will you manage to get yourself out of this one, Tommy?â You almost giggled. Ruby shared a frightened look with her father.
Thomas made the obvious choice. âLet her go. Point your gun at me.â He said calmly.
You shook your head with pursed lips. âI canât do that. Youâd wrestle the gun out of my grip and kill me. Then, I wouldnât have anybody to drag to hell with. No. You are last. Just like Luca Changretta warned you.â
Thomasâs eyes narrowed. âHowâd you know that? That was a private conversation.â
âYou always underestimated me. Do you know how that feels?â The grip on your gun tightened. âTo be the weakest one? To be pushed aside?â Ruby whimpered in your lap. You thought about this exact moment. You thought about it the entire ride over to his house.
âYouâre not doing this because you think youâre the weakest one.â Thomas retorted. âYou didnât answer my question.â
âI know.â You simply said, not at all flinching. You werenât scared of him. Not anymore.
âYou know?â Thomas said it slower.
âI know everything.â You blinked slower. âThe finances. Your enemies. What people say. What we all think of you. You know, you forget that I exist. That I have ears, too. And Iâm Shelby.â
âNo one forgot you were a Shelby.â Thomas spat. He pointed outside towards the city. âI made your life absolutely perfect out there!â
âAnd then you took it all away!â You laughed. âLike a toy you couldnât share anymore. Well, look at us now.â You nudged the barrel of the gun into her skin.
Thomasâ jaw ticked. âYouâre going to let her go. Sheâs got nothing to do with this.â
âShe has got everything to do with this.â You argued. A slow, but angry smile took over your features. âMoney doesnât just disappear. Not when you have an extraordinary amount of it.â You swallowed hard. âYou didnât stop paying my tuition because you ran out of money. No.â
You shook your head angrily. You made sure to look into your older brotherâs eyes. You wanted him to see how much you looked like John. Like Arthur. Like your father. Or worse, how much you looked like your mother.
âYou chose to stop paying my tuition and then you put all of my money into a trust for Ruby.â You said.
âYou shouldnât know that. The only peopleâ
âI killed her.â You chuckled, interrupting Thomas. âPolly? Our aunt? Our aunt? Yes, she was there while you moved that money. She told me. So, I killed her.â
Thomasâ eyes went wide. His blood went cold as if you dragged him twenty thousand leagues into the deep blue sea. His shoulders straightened. He blinked, changing course.
âThat is my daughter, Y/N.â
âSheâs my niece, yeah.â You nodded, agreeing. You waved the gun around a bit, emphasizing your point. The barrel tucked back under Rubyâs chin. âBut, maybe our family legacy shouldnât go on. None of us should go on anymore.â
âYouâre sick, Y/N.â Thomas nodded. âI have made excusesâ
âYouâve hit me.â You interrupted him again. âYouâve threatened to kill me. Beat me. I could go on. You have no excuses. Youâre Tommy-fucking-Shelby. You want everything and then when you get it all youâre going to kill yourself because you only ever think about yourself.â
Thomasâ fingers clenched into a fist, cracking as he did so. His daughter looked too stiff in your lap. As if she were a pretty doll instead of a little, laughing girl.
âPlease, Y/N.â He said.
You put the gun by your ear, leaning forward. âWhat was that?â
âLet my Ruby go. Now. Please.â He struggled through the words. They hit your bloodstream, almost making everything you ever went through worth it. Your older brother was finally breaking. His jaw clenched. His eyes edged on tears.
That was when you decided to apologize to your niece.
âIâm sorry you had a shitty father. I did, too.â You said into her ear. âYou deserve better. May God bless you.â Your finger pulled the trigger, killing Ruby instantly. The bullet ripped through her, spreading her blood all over you.
Thomas fell to his knees. The scream he let out was a horrifying one. It was nothing like you ever heard before. And it was exactly as you hoped it would be.
You did it. You finally broke your brother.
You took the gun, pointing it at yourself next. Everything you wanted went to plan.
Thomas screamed, charging at you. âNo! No, no, no!! Donât you fuckiâ
BOOM.
THUD.
The room went silent for a few seconds. In those moments, Thomas sat there horrified. His youngest daughter and his youngest brother. Both in one go. Blood didnât spread easily on carpets. It seeped, making the fibers remember what took place here today. Thomas couldnât reach for either of you. Instead, he just stared.
First, Grace.
Then, John.
Now, it was Polly. Ruby. And then you. One of your eyes stayed normal. It looked up at Thomas, watching him, warning him.
Hi crow đ my house has been flooded due to all the rain (I live in Australia) and between losing everything inside and the war in Ukraine itâs been a very bad week emotionally. Can I request a geralt x reader fic full of fluff and cuddles đ„ș Iâm in a very cuddly mood xoxo
Pairing: Geralt X Female!Reader
Fandom/Franchise: Witcher
Author's Notes/Triggers: No triggers here. Only FLUFF.
âTell me a story.â You smiled, crawling into his bed.
He let out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes. He almost hated it, all of it. The quarantine you both were forced under. The cottage at the edge of nowhere in the mountains. He itched from not being able to at least leave the property. However, you made it entertaining, at least.
He pulled at a sweater sleeve, wondering which one he could pick from. A better idea came to mind.
âI think you owe me a story.â He smiled at you, remembering something.
Your eyes widened. Your smile brightened into a laugh. âNo, thatâs not fair. I canât leave here.â
âAll the more reason to tell me. You, like me, are trapped. And you owe me the story.â Geralt patted a spot on the bed for you. You collapsed into the mattress. Your feet neared his shoulders. He took his opportunity and started to rub at your soles. His powerful thumbs dug into the aching spaces of your feet. Â Sighing, you turned your gaze to the window outside. Another snowstorm would set in soon.
âWhere to begin.â Your lips pursed in deep thought. âThe King was looking forâŠa female companion. Now, not many people know this, but Vizimir and his queen have an open relationship.â You added that last sentence as a disclaimer. âThey only have that one rule.â
âNo whores.â Geralt smiled, knowing the rule all too well.
You gave him a delicious look. âI had heard Vizimir was looking for a partner and I knew he would have me in his list. And well, who wants to be a part of his mess? Anyways, I decided to start flirting with Radovid. He picked up on my affections immediately. Then, he invited me to his room one night exceptâŠsomeone else was also there.â
âJaskier.â Geralt smiled at you. His grin was embarrassingly bright. He started to fill in the spaces.
Your cheeks flushed. âYes, well, your friend, Jaskier wasâŠinteresting.â
âYou liked him.â Geralt chuckled at you.
âIâwell what if I do?â You tried owning up to it. Geralt moved from his spot, crawling over you until he blocked your view of the ceiling.
His mouth found your neck, kissing there gently. âHm, you might like him. He needs more friends.â Geraltâs hands crowded your face. He kissed you softer, reminding you that you both had nothing but time on your side. Geralt spoke more between kisses. âStill doesnât change that Jaskier took your virginity instead of the prince.â
âItâs an embarrassing story.â You nudged his chest playfully. His hands ran though your locks only to pull you to him again. The soft kisses melted your bodies together. Warmth and friction created a new tension between you.
âEmbarrassing for who?â Geralt laughed into your shoulder, kissing you there. âFor Jaskier who canât even look at you without blushing? Or you who still canât decide who she likes better, Radovid or Jaskier?â
You sighed. Your body rolled to the side, but not far. Geralt held you in place as you reached for your half glass of wine. You drained it, but not without a drop of wine spilling at the side of your mouth. Geraltâs tongue swept at the leftover wine, kissing you deeper for a moment. His hand cradled your head as your hair dangled to the floor.
You gasped for air when he pulled back. âAnd what if end up liking you?â
Geralt pulled you back into bed. âThen, Jaskier wouldnât be so hurt. Heâd move on. Always has. Never kept a lover for long. Radovid, on the other handâ
âStop. I donât want to tease him.â You quickly declared. Your cold feet tangled with his legs. Two of your fingers traced Geraltâs chest. âHe was already a mess when he found out I was quarantining with you.â
âIâm not surprised.â Geralt chuckled. âIt wouldnât be the first time he lost a lover to me.â
You lifted your head. A devious smile appeared. âNot the first time? You would claim me so easily?â Your body wiggled against his to tease. He grabbed your sides, covered you both in furs, so the bed was dark and too warm to leave.
Geraltâs mouth found the side of your neck and kissed until marks bloomed on your skin.
âI may have told the prince that I would be returning you with marks of my own making.â He smiled into your skin. You wanted to protest, but his hands were warm. Your eyes closed as his kisses turned lazy on your mouth.
I need you to know I looooove your writing but I am the biggest fattest sucker for your Thomas Shelby stuff. It. Ugh you scratch just the perfect itch it's literally perfect. i love it, I love him, I love you (don't tell him pls)
Thank you, nonbon.
I won't tell Tommy. A toast to one of the best men for dark fanfic!
Fr tho I get such bad love aggression for her she just deserves the absolute world đ„č crazy thing is though if she had to choose between me or the world she would 100% choose me every time đ„Č
My thing with Leo bonhart is that he absolutely would be cruel and horrible even after he has reader? Like he may not be directly sadistic to reader, but he would definitely get so much joy in making them witness his brutality, and then forcing them to thank him for his protection. Like itâs all a big game to him, reader isnât a match for him, heâs a bounty hunter so they canât escape, and heâs literally killed witchers before so no man would be able to take reader from him. I feel like he would just take joy in dragging reader around as he hunts for his next bounty and then watching as his next victim cry to them for help only for them to look away because what can reader do to help?
Author's Notes: This is Part Two. read Part One Here.
When I opened my eyes, pain shot through my legs. I closed them again, feeling the white-hot burn of my lower back throbbing.
âOh, be careful now. Sh, sh, sh.â I heard a familiar voice. The older woman tutted. Her hand rubbed my lower back. I gasped whenever her fingers grazed a sensitive part. âThere, there.â
âAunt Beth?â I whimpered. My lip quivered from a deep sense of relief.
Bethany Barwell smiled. âOpen your eyes and see me well. Youâve had a rough go at it, havenât you?â Her hand continued to soothe. My whole body started to shake as I cried into her lap. I inhaled the sweet scents of home. A real home, I thought. The colder air outside. The burning incense absolved me. The slow crackling fire nearby kept me warm.
My eyes slowly opened to see my great aunt Beth. She gave me her saddest smile. I didnât have to say anything. She already knew.
âWe buried them all. Burned their caravans. We thought the same fate for you until yesterday.â She explained. Her hands offered to support me. I sat all the way up, slow and painful. My eyes focused on my legs. âWill I be able to walk?â
âIf you can feel pain, youâll be able to walk again.â Beth said. She rose from her spot, going over to her small kitchenette. âYou were shot in the back. The young man who shot you brought you in your fatherâs car.â
Finn.
I took a steadying breath. My eyes closed. I didnât want to cry especially not after I knew it was Finn who shot me. Forgiveness was at the bottom of my list. I bit the heel of my hand, reminding myself that I shouldnât mourn Finn. However, I could mourn what we shared. A fond friendship.
Finn was lost now.
âYouâre more than welcome to stay with us.â Aunt Beth told me. âHeal. Grow. Live. Itâs all better when youâre away from the city.â
âYou always said everythingâs better in the country.â I smiled back. My eyes flitted to outside. No horses here would be made to race or pawns in a bigger game. They were wild. More importantly, they were free.
I recovered as much as I could over the next several months. My left leg gave me trouble now and again. I used a cane to maneuver around most of the time. I mended clothes. I skinned whatever animals were brought to me. My life became exceptionally simple. It was a relief to say the least.
I thought of Finn less and less. One night, my anger poured out in horrible ways. I drank so much that I took a caravan with the suitcase full of pictures of Finn out into a field and burned it. I watched the flames reach heights taller than the trees. Some of the men were pissed, but my Great Aunt Beth stopped them.
âLet her.â She advised. âSometimes a broken heart needs a funeral, too.â The words struck most of the men deeply. In fact, many our people were used as soldiers, pawns in the big Shelby game. How many had died in the name of Thomas Shelby?
Becoming a young woman didnât happen overnight. It happened in small doses. I noticed the changes in my body like one would notice the growth of a plant. Steady and healthy. Some of the young men in our community started to show their varying affections. Great Aunt Beth gave me clothes more fitting for a woman.
Years passed by the same as seasons. If spring was childhood, then I bloomed over summers. I found myself enamored with horses more than ever before. I rode them often, knowing their quirks and personalities better than people. All of that came to a halt one day.
Great Aunt Beth couldnât exactly look me in the eye. âCurses are a tricky thing. Most are desperate to be rid of them rather than preventing them.â
I stood angry and resentful in my motherâs wedding dress. The mirror did little to calm my growing nerves. âWhat happened to you promising me I could live among you?â
âIt was an offer. Not a promise. I know better than to promise anything to anyone.â Her words hurt more now than ever before. Of course, she never promised anything. Bethany Barwell had seen more curses than blessings in her life. She told me this curse was something I had to mend.
It was enough to cover my eyes and have a distant cousin take me down a wedding aisle to a strange groom. Bethâs silence spoke volumes. She loved weddings. Ours were often drunk and happy. Not this one. She kept to silence like a grudge.
When my groom lifted my veil, I immediately understood why.
Finn Shelby, now a young man, stood in front of me smiling and grateful.
This was the curse. He shot me and a series of unfortunate circumstances befell the Shelby family. It had to be enough to marry a traitor into their kin. I glared at Finn with an anger I hadnât felt since I burned the caravan.
âY/N.â He sighed. âYouâre beautiful.â
My gaze narrowed at my groom. âYou shot me.â I whispered so only he could hear me. âFuck you.â
Request for dark! Paul and Chani both liking the reader and deciding to confess together but reader is just like confused on the sharing so sheâs no but needless to say they arenât really taking no for an awnser
Pairing: Paul Atreides X Chani X Female!Reader
Fandom/Franchise: Dune
Author's Notes/Triggers: mild, but as always, please consume content cautiously.
The room had gone mostly silent. You, dressed in jewels and metal and fine silk, stood before the pair of them. Your eyes flickered between them. Chaniâs armor was different. Here, she didnât need the flit-plugs or a still suit. She wore metal and chainmail so fine that it appeared to be a second skin. Paulâs gloves were splotched red.
You opened your mouth, but Chani spoke first.
âLet us go first.â Her voice creaked in the same sadness as the day you left them on Arrakis. Her hand floated in the space between you and her. âWe didnât intend for this to happen. None of us wanted what happened today.â
Chaniâs voice was full of reason now. It contrasted from the spirited outburst you saw a half hour before.
âWe only wanted to talk.â She said.
âYou come here. Dressed in armor that fits you perfectly only to talk?â Your own voice carried an awful edge. Your head shook. âI donât believe either of you. This was planned.â
âWe couldnât let you marry him.â Paul interjected.
âSo, you kill him?â You snapped at Paul. You stepped forward, but Chani blocked you.
âIt wasnât supposed to go this way.â She assured you.
âThen, how was it supposed to go?!â Your eyes searched hers. âTell me!â For a moment, Chani looked as if your words cut her cheek. The next, she dipped her eyes to Paul. They shared a look between them.
âWe were supposed to arrive last night. We were going to tell you and then take you from here.â Chani explained.
Your heart started to race, making your chest tight. It was Chani who held your hands first. You pulled from her immediately. âNo.â You reacted. âDonât touch me.â
âWeâre not trying to scare you. Weâre here to save you.â Paul stepped forward. You stepped back.
âNo.â You shook your head in a panic. âI was fine. Thisâthis was an order. Meant to bring together the empire.â
âI was wrong.â Paul explained. He shared a panicked look to Chani. âWe both were. Ordering you, forcing you into a marriage was my fault.â
âForcing me?â You gasped. âI liked Abram.â You voice filled with the tears you werenât ready to cry out yet. âAbram was, was good. He was their heir. He was.â Was. It hurt you too much to say it. Even now. Was. Not Is. Was. So much happened in a span of minutes.
Paul and Chani stiffened in their spots. You couldnât see how their blood boiled underneath their skin when you admitted you liked Abram. Chani cleared her throat.
âWeâre taking you home.â She declared.
âNo.â Your brow furrowed underneath your wedding veil. âIâm not going anywhere with either of you.â
âYou are.â Paul argued.
âIâm staying right here. Iâ
âI love you.â There was quiver in his admission. His eyes fluttered. âChani and Iâ
âI loveâwe both do.â Chani agreed. The admission was sloppy, clanky at best. It certainly didnât follow any kind of romance book you shared with them before. Your eyes flipped between them.
âWhat is this?â You asked. âI donâtâ
âWe spoke and we decided to keep you. Have you.â Chani tried to gently explain.
âThatâs notâI am notâŠâ Your voice trailed off. The room filled with stifling air. Your chest struggled to breathe evenly. âWhat are you asking me?â
âTo come home. Be angry, yes, but be angry with us at home.â Paul explained firmly. âShare our bed. Share us.â
âUs? There is no such thing. Marriages areâ
âDo not stand there and tell me how things should be!â Chani finally snapped. She stopped in front of you. Her hands cupped your cheeks. âYou have etched valleys into my heart. I cried when you left.â
Shock turned you cold. âPaul is to be emperor, and you are his lover andâ
âWe could marry.â Paul suggested. âRight now.â His eyes seemed to suggest he was still feeling high after murdering Abram.
âNo.â You shook your head.
âNo?â Paul swallowed hard. There was a cruel twitch in eye you knew he reserved for those who had danger coming. You tried to leave, but Chani held onto your wrist. The slick, clicking sound of a cuff sounded off around your wrist.
You lifted your gaze to Chani. âLet me go.â
âI canât.â Chani said. Her voice grew possessive. âYouâre coming home. Youâre marrying Paul. Then, you will join our bed. You are ours, Y/N.â
Could u write something about Paul Atreides? Something like his wife going into labor and him seeing the baby for the first time?đ„șâ€ïž
Pairing: Paul Atreides X Female!Reader
Fandom/Franchise: Dune
Author's Notes/Triggers: Mild, or if childbirth is a trigger, please avoid or consume content cautiously.
Paul Atreides, a Rising Emperor, nearly kicked his guard out of the way when his ship finally touched ground. The doors barely opened and he somehow managed to wiggle out while hearing warnings and curses of his guards behind him. He tripped on the ground, scraping his hand.
âFuck,â he cursed. His feet started flying into the sprawling palace. One of his guards finally caught up to him.
âYour hand, my lord, itâsâ
Paul whirled around at his guard. âMy hand means little. My son is coming. Your concerns should lie with the future, not the present of the empire.â His tone snapped as it should. A messenger reached him a little too late to announce the news. He was heading towards another planet to accept a surrender of arms when he received the news. He knew he should have stayed. Paul forced his entire platoon to turn tail while flying.
Now, he was late. He broke his own promise to his queen.
He heard the echoing, pained screams first. His feet couldnât fly fast enough. The marble floors did little to grip the sole of his boots. He collided with a wet nurse and a swordsman. The swordsman held Paul tight.
âMy lord, you ought toâ
âYou do not command me!â Paul snapped. His emotions frayed. âWho are you to suggest anything to me? Let me though! Immediately!â His eyes went too wide, enough to see his pupil all around. His wifeâs screams echoed the hallway again. This time, it was followed by small displays of encouragement. His jaw ticked. âLet me through or you will be last of your bloodline, do you hear me?â
Both the wet nurse and the swordsman stepped aside.
Paul pushed the doors open to see his wife in her own battle. Her legs spread open with various hands on her bare thighs. Another set of hands held the head of his son, bloody and raw and new. Her personal guard, Ghanna, held her hand tight. The sight of his queen, breathing heavy and covered in sweat, froze him.
He was often told that men and women had their own battlefields. Men against men on land or in air. Women against the gods. This was the fiercer battle, he thought. Bringing forth a life that had not existed before was something he revered now. Here she was, her crown falling off her brow, carrying the weight of being a mother to the empire and being a mother to the future emperor.
Something dark came over him then. A heavy responsibility and sense of duty stilled him in his spot. His queen laid back after the baby was born. The cord was cut by the healer. Then, Paulâs son was brought to him. He was wet, crying, and scrunched in the face. The white blankets dampened with holy, royal blood.
Paulâs thumb swept across his sonâs forehead. His mind swept with quick visions all at once. An ascension, a baptism of blood, a young man surrounded by power on the lion throne. Paulâs breath caught.
âLeon.â He named his son. It was a gentle tone but a firm choice. One that ignored his wifeâs desires, but she had not known his visions. Paulâs gaze met with hers.
Devastated and recovering, she held his gaze as her limbs shook. She strained to see her son. Paulâs steps went slower now. Not to antagonize her or prolong her wait, but to protect. He felt as if he was carrying the thinnest glass. He knelt to her level, placing the babe on her chest.
âYouâve done so well.â Paul kissed her forehead. âIâm sorry for not being here.â
âBut youâre here now.â She whispered. Her hand felt the soft head of their child. âYouâve named him.â
Paul went quiet for a moment. His eyes sunk into hers. The way they always had when he grew reluctant. âHe isnât of my house. Nor yours. Heâs something new. We have made something powerful.â
âOur son is not your visions.â She tried to soothe.
Paul shook his head. âNo. He is something far greater than you or I.â He swallowed hard. He gazed at his queen, feeling as if he was inadequate. He was Emperor, a Harbinger of Death. But what was death compared to the power of life? His fingers cupped her cheek. âI saw his future just as I saw yours when I touched you for the first time. He gets his power from you, and so that is what I named him. Leon, a lion, a sun, our power made flesh.â
