I’m not sure if you’re currently taking requests (if not, please ignore)? I was wondering if we could get a Drabble of Lavi playing with his daughter and just enjoying life with his s/o? Like his daughter is super into history too and other cute stuff..Sorry, I just want him to have a happy ending! 😭
(God me too, anon. I would literally die for him. Also I know you said history but my mind instantly went to literature, I am so sorry!)
“With a battle-ready cry, our hero bursts into the room, crying, ‘Turn, hell-hound, turn!’” cried Lavi Bookman in a passionate tone, raising his wooden toy sword.
“Turn, hell-hound, turn!” Parroted his young daughter, raising her own wooden sword.
“’You cannot defeat me!’ mocks the evil tyrant,” Lavi scowled dramatically, raising a hand to his chest. “For the tyrant still believes himself untouchable, for only a soul born of no woman could do him any harm, but alas, our hero proclaims, ‘I was not born! From my mother’s womb, I was untimely ripped!’”
“Ew,” his daughter replied, breaking character, as she stuck her tongue out. Lavi laughed.
“Icky,” he agreed.
“I was not born!” she forged on, but her face was twisted into disgust at the words, which looked comical on a six year old’s face.
“And so, the two set forth and battle!” As soon as the last word left his lips, his daughter charged, clacking their swords together. He rotated his blade this way and that, blocking more than anything. “The battle proved to be an anticlimatic ending for the tyrant who thought himself so much more. A battle of words, a twist of beliefs, all falling on deaf ears, until our hero removes the tyrants head from upon his traitorous shoulders!”
His daughter touched the tip of the wooden blade to Lavi’s neck with a victorious Ha! Lavi fell back onto the bed, sticking his tongue out and pretending to be dead. He could hear the young girl cheering. He peeked his eye open and smiled, taking the opportunity to tickle her when she was least suspecting it. She howled out a loud laugh, trying to wiggle away from him.
“Daddy! You’re suppose to be dead!”
“I’m a zombie, rawr!”
“Zombies don’t rawr! Monsters do!” Lavi raised his hands in surrender.
“Right, right.” His daughter climbed up onto the bed and sat next to him.
“So Macduff wasn’t born?” she asked.
“Nope,” Lavi said, relaxing back onto the bed, his long legs bent over the edge. “They had to remove him from his mom’s tummy through other means. Different than how you were born, at least.”
“I see…” she said. “So I wouldn’t have been able to defeat Macbeth myself?”
“Sure you could,” he assured. “They relied to much on Fate, and that’s why these stories end the way they do. They fall into Fate’s hands itself. The only reason why Macbeth thought someone like Macduff would beat him was because the witches predicted it, but in the end, it was because Macduff had his own score to settle. How he was born didn’t have anything to do with it–not really, at least.”
“I liked the witches,” she giggled. “They talked funny.”
“Lavi,” came a warning voice from the doorway. Lavi lifted his head and saw you standing there, hands on your hips. “Why are you telling our six year old the story of Macbeth?”
“It’s a classic!” he countered in his defense. “And I left a lot of the gorey bits out!”
“I cut daddy’s head off!” his daughter chirped. You slapped your own forehead and groaned. Lavi pouted at his daughter.
Toad's Cave 