Quisling | SnK | Erwin x Reader

The year is 1939.

And Europe is on the brink of war.

Tucked away in the idyllic countryside their farm remains unscathed for the best part of the year. The first snow of winter arriving without a hint of what is to come. Caught in the blast of a grenade Levi returns home, but it's merely a shadow of the man she'd grown to love that arrives on the doorstep. In the midst of trying to keep Levi from slipping away, she finds herself faced with an all new fear.

The enemy is not only within their borders but at her door.

Totally alone, and out of her depth she struggles to come to terms with the cruel hand fate has dealt her. In between trying not to get herself killed, she is lead on a treacherous path of deception. Unable to tell friend from foe she must figure it out for herself, what it is she must do.

Lay down her life? Or aid in the downfall of her homeland?



This series will be based around the German occupation of France during WWII. Though it will not be entirely historically accurate, there will be parts that will follow the actual timeline of the war. 

Lastly,  I hope you enjoy, & thank you for reading! Comments & feedback are always welcome!

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1. What if this storm ends?

What if this storm ends?

Pressing back against the barrel it's rough edges were ignored when the frayed and chipped wood stabbed at her, a slight adjustment of her positioning easing the discomfort. Searching in the pockets of her coat the crumpled roll up was slowly taken out, her fingers smoothing it until it resembled a roll up once more before (y/n) brought it to her mouth. Biting down on the end, the bitter taste of the dry tobacco burnt the tip of the tongue. Though, like the barrel, it was easily ignored. Staring across the desolate farmland (y/n) struck the match held between finger and thumb, watching it slowly crackle it was brought to the tip of the still slightly crumpled roll up. Lighting it quickly the flame was snuffed out with a flick of the wrist.

(Y/n) knew from the days of the trenches never to light more than one cigarette with a match. The deep indent of missing flesh beside her left temple served as a potent reminder of that.

Dazed and confused from the close to home shelling,  (y/n) had wandered into a field. Coated in dust and blood, she'd fallen into a trench. Too stunned to move (y/n) had laid in the mud, blood and excrement for what felt like hours, but in truth what had been only a few short minutes. The dulled tread of a boot on a hand frightened (y/n) into moving, and in turn brought a gun muzzle to be pointed between the eyes. It must have been overwhelming for the then five-year-old (y/n), as she could not recall the events between the moment of her discovery, to the moment the bullet ricochet off Private Tommy's helmet, and lodged itself in her skull.

All that (y/n) did know, was not to use the same match more than once when lighting roll ups.

Uncrossing her legs (y/n)'s boots crunched against the freshly laid snow, toxic smoke intermingling with her chilled breath, it temporarily blocked the view of the dead fields.

Overhead the low droning of the distant bomber planes grew louder, and more fierce in their approach. A hand cupping both eyes to block out the low winter sun (y/n) bit tighter on the roll ups tip. Up above, the flying mechanisms of destruction were not those of her homeland. Which begged the question, of just how far the Germans had pushed over their borders.

"(y/n), please come inside."

A weak, breathy voice called across the white washed field, bringing (y/n)'s hands back down against her side, a hand paused to take the roll up from between her lips. The paper sticking against the dry skin, a sting of pain came when it pulled away. Running her tongue over the small welt (y/n) pushed off the barrel, boots crunching over the snow she walked with caution around the barn. It was only then (y/n) realised how bold the barns colour was, bright red it contrasted sharply with the crisp white floor.

It could seen for miles.

Throwing away the roll up (y/n) pushed past the barn, the concern of it being almost like a beacon forgotten at the sight of the man slumped against the gate of the now empty horse field. Breaking out into a brisk jog (y/n) bent to pick up the fallen crutch, a hand slipping beneath the outstretched arm (y/n) gripped the small man's shoulder. Moving her body to replace the crutch that had fallen from his grasp.

"Levi, you're going to kill yourself walking around like this!" Angry at Levi's insistence to leave the house, when he was almost stood at death's door (y/n) pulled him tight against her side. The chill that ran up her body, not from the winter's bitter bite, but from Levi himself.

"I woke up, and you were gone." Weak and rasping, (y/n) caught a faint edge in his voice, a slither of his old self, breaking through. With a pained smile (y/n) whispered an apology, her legs moving slowly so as not to exert Levi's worn and broken body in the walk back home. Slowly Levi moved a shaking hand to rest over the one that (y/n) had wrapped around his side, their fingers clicking together neatly, Levi managed a weak squeeze.

Tipping in toward Levi their heads knocked together lightly, a small smile breaking up Levi's pain filled pants "I'm sorry."

Hearing the quiet apology (y/n) sighed in response.

Since Levi had returned from the front line, he'd become an entirely different man. Possessing a timidness that (y/n) never thought was possible of him, it made (y/n) wonder what he'd witnessed on the front lines, to change an active and assertive man, into a quiet and suddenly dependent one. Not once in their eight years of being married, had Levi ever depended on (y/n) for anything.

When Levi came back home (y/n) had felt a heavy weight in her chest. The shock of the moment she'd found Levi hopping up the path on a set of crutches, still lingered. Each time (y/n)'s eyes fell upon the stump that was Levi's right leg; her stomach would somersault violently. It was even more painful when they made eye contact. Levi's one remaining eye was cold and haunted by the things he had witnessed.

Keeping them both balanced (y/n) used a booted foot to kick open the small wooden gate. The snows gathered on its ledges falling in clumps into their once bright, and vibrant garden.

Path hidden by the white blanket, they moved slowly towards their old cottage. Windows frosting up slowly (y/n) eyed the icicles that crept down from the overlap of the roof, with disdain. The winter looked as though it would be a cold and bitter one.

Pausing on the paved doorstep (y/n) removed the hand that held onto Levi's wrist, the cuff of her coat shook down to grip the cold metal of the door handle, she paused. Levi's one eye fixed on her; it was clear he needed a response to his apology, other than her silence.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Levi." Assuring him softly the feel of his cold lips brushing against her cheek relieved some of the weight in her chest. It gave her heart a gentle flutter that she'd not felt in a long time, with his head moving closer, the soft strands of Levi's hair tickled against her cheek.

"I love-"

Bodies stumbling forward, pushed by an unknown force (y/n) barely managed to keep her footing. Shoulder hitting roughly against the wooden edging of the front door, a hiss of pain leapt from her mouth.

Righting their bodies (y/n)'s eyes crept wide at the distant bark of a gun. The sound scratched violently at both ears; it felt like it had physically taken hold of her brain and rattled it, slamming it around the inside of her skull.

Slowly, everything fell into silence. A dark, deathly, quiet that filled (y/n) with dread.

Across the door, a thick crimson liquid splashed as the weight at her side became heavier. Unable to process what she was seeing (y/n) held tightly to the limp hand that still held her own. Their fingers knotted together she felt Levi's seize her own before they went limp.

"Levi?"

Whimpering (y/n)'s jaw quivered as she remained staring at the sullied door of their home. A wet warmth was spreading across (y/n)'s shoulder, it seeped through the coat, soaking the shoulder of her shirt she refused to turn and look. Body twitching (y/n)'s knees slowly buckled, unable to keep the now dead weight at her side up right, they sunk onto the doorstep.

Levi's still form slumped forward in their decent as (y/n)'s hands tried to make a grab for him, they shook almost uncontrollably, the fingers oddly numb they could not keep a hold on Levi. Mouth open in a silent scream (y/n) could only watch when Levi's head fell forward, meeting the door with a dull, and lifeless thud.

Though, there was little left.

No longer able to tell the difference between hair, blood or brain matter (y/n) shrunk back. Frozen in place as Levi's limp body slid down the door,  it fell into a heap at the entrance of their home.

Fingers reaching out (y/n) didn't stop when the crack of a gun reloading sounded from behind her shoulder. The rough crunch of the snow did not instil fear like it should have. (y/n)'s fingers kept reaching until they closed around a fistful of snow and pebbles. The orders given didn't even reach her ears; it was as if they floated on passed, evaporating into nothing just like the sharp bursts of smoke that left her mouth with each panting breath.

Hair whipping around her face (y/n) twisted her neck, both eyes painfully wide, they burned with the strain and the winter wind, but still, they did not blink. Though partially obscured with the tears that slowly began to collect at the edges of them, she recognised the object pointed at her. Once more, just like the day she'd stumbled into the trench, (y/n) was staring down the muzzle of a gun. Though fate, this time, was not on her side, and she was not in the sanctuary of her allies.

Staring past the cold metal that had taken Levi's life with the same ease of extinguishing a flame (y/n) met with the hard, and emotionally void gaze of the man brandishing the weapon.

Though his mouth was moving, (y/n) could not hear what he was saying. A loud buzzing had filled both ears, drowning out anything that tried to reach them. Palm burning from how tightly (y/n) gripped at the Pebble dotted snow her, fingers tightened their hold.

Arm swinging out in the same instance the man turned the gun around, the butt of it brought up to his side (y/n) threw out the compacted snow as the man drove the gun downwards.

Like a strained band snapping, (y/n)'s body leapt into action. The ice ball temporarily distracting the foreign soldier it was thrown hard enough to pop his nose, blood spilling rapidly her body lurched forward. Using both shoulders (y/n) slammed as hard as she could into the soldier, further staggering his movements he tumbled back. A hand catching the calf of (y/n)'s leg he almost brought her crashing down with him, a quick kick to the man's arm, and (y/n) managed to break his hold.

The man's shouting having alerted the other slowly approaching soldiers (y/n) could see their grim, grey outlines against the flurry of snow. Guns in hand, they shouted orders back and forth.

Tripping back across the garden of her home (y/n) bent quickly to retrieve the soldiers gun, adrenaline pumping her fight or flight instinct had made a swift round-a-bout turn. With a sparing glance at Levi, a cry choked back, her feet soon pounded across the snow, almost slipping as she tore around the corner of the cottage. The sharp ping of a bullet narrowly missing her body, she felt the shards of the brick hit against her cheek.

Fingers biting into the cold metal of the gun all (y/n) could do was run, the shouts of the fast approaching enemy at her back fuelling her forward. The vast stretching fields were wide open past the cottage; she was totally exposed and without cover. The closest being the woods that made up the edge of the desolate farm, they were still a great distance from her, and already her lungs were burning. Still, even though her body was already tiring, she refused to bow down.

Veering sharply to her right (y/n) managed to keep up her pace, the bark of the guns behind firing round after round, they sent up little snow blizzards as they hit the cold ground. Though her mind was in disarray, (y/n) knew not to keep running in a straight line, and so, almost with a spring in her step, she gave a lurch to the left that narrowly took her out of the path of another bullet.

Surely they'd have to give up. (y/n) was not worth anything, there was no information she could offer, she had nothing to give them. Though (y/n) was under no illusion what they could potentially do, she was certain she'd turn the gun on herself, before they caught up.

Pushing her body harder (y/n) could sense that one of her pursuers had closed their distance. Their presence setting the hairs at the back of her neck on end (y/n) was close to the woodland, just one more push of speed and she'd be able to lose them in the trees. The sound of her pursuers boots across the snow almost crippling (y/n)'s will, they were almost upon her.

With one last dash of hope (y/n) suddenly twisted, body ducking to avoid the outstretched arms (y/n) used the butt of the gun, bringing it down with as much force as her arms could manage it hit upon the soldier's hip. A sharp cry of pain sounding from the man he staggered away, the outstretched arms falling to hold the area she'd hit (y/n) failed to see the second incoming soldier.

The man did not hold back as he slammed into (y/n)'s side. Elbow out it caught (y/n)'s rib, the gun falling from her grasp the impact buckled her instantly, their bodies collapsing into the snow.

The cold substance would have been welcoming on her heated skin, if not for the man she was in a confused tangle of limbs with. Legs kicking (y/n) fought back as the man made to restrain her, his companion she'd recently hit scrambling across the snow to assist.

Slowly (y/n)'s body tired, a forearm firmly pinning her chest, the man was practically laying on her to keep her still. The burning of his breath running over her cheek (y/n) felt the other man take a firm grip on her ankles, locking them down all she could give were violent jolts of her body. Barely able to turn her head (y/n) felt her body go limp, with all the fight in her body bleeding out, a strangled cry sounded her defeat.

Seeming to understand that she'd given up, the pressure on her chest slowly removed until eventually she was released. Rolling onto her side (y/n)'s arms wrapped around her quaking body, legs curling up (y/n) buried her chin against her chest.

The trees that loomed above seemed to mock her. Telling (y/n) just how close she'd been to slipping out of their clutches, her knowledge of the layout would have proved to be her greatest ally, and in turn, would have worked against them. Had (y/n) of just pushed that bit harder, and not stopped, she would have been in their shadowy depths.

"Fraulein?"

Blinking laconically (y/n) could only vaguely make out a voice, the blood rushing in her ears almost deafening. It struck (y/n) oddly, though it sounded calm, and a little short of breath, it was calm.

"Fraulein!"

Sounding far more peeved the second time, it made (y/n)'s head turn. There was no point in angering them; she was very literally at their mercy now. Almost blinded by the spots that danced across her vision (y/n) could only just make out the black object that floated in front of her. It took a few more blinks, and slowly its edges smoothed out to reveal a gloved hand.

"Get up!"

The order came in a German-accented French. It sounded funny too (y/n)'s ears, but it was clearly understood. Rolling onto her back (y/n) unfurled both arms, ignoring the offered hand (y/n) used the weak appendages to bring herself up. Legs still burning it made her stagger off to the side. Limbs twitching with the unexpected exertion, her head swam with the sudden movement.

Expecting to be allowed to fall (y/n) was startled by the arm that caught her. Jolting back rapidly both arms flailed when the arm once more grabbed her and tried to keep her upright. Reeled in quickly to the weapons owner (y/n)'s arms managed to raise, the backs pressed against the chest to keep distance between their bodies, and allowing her room to push him back (y/n) stared defiantly up at the man.

"Fraulein."

The tone was warning enough, trying to discourage the small amount of fight she'd managed to muster, though (y/n) still pressed hard against the man.

"I suggest you comply," pushing back against her the man lowered his head until their faces were pressed nose to nose, his face hidden beneath both helmet and some fabric mask "Unless you want a bullet in your chest?"

Sounding out the threat as a question, like (y/n) had an option, the man finally managed to get a firm grip on the back of her coat. The fabric pulled tight it restricted (y/n)'s movements.

Swallowing hard (y/n)'s arms relaxed. Reminding herself that she was now at their mercy, a deep inhale dispelled her want to fight back.

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