#also if anyone knows the word for the tall teacup I’d appreciate it

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Does anyone else do that thing where they completely forget a word that they want to say in conversation, so you’re just kinda stuck and buffering over the thing that your trying to say. Like, you know what it is, but there’s a blank where it’s supposed to be.

And then there’s times where there’s a word for it in one language, but not the other, and I try to translate it without actually saying it, which is the hardest thing in the world to describe.

Just wanted to know if anyone else actually does this, or if I just need to go through a dictionary or somethin to catch up.

[glxssylaufey]

hello! i hope you are still taking requests!

can i request a oneshot with tom hiddleston where him and the reader are a already a couple and they into a pillow & tickle fight then it turns into a smut? (i rlly love fics with fluff to smut) you may use these prompts that i found!

"quit stealing all the pillows!"

"stop that! i'm ticklish!"

"can i kiss you?"

"i want you right now."

"all mine."

i hope this isn't a lot, i just really love your fics and keep writing! 🦋

ahh thank you sm, i’m so glad you enjoy my writing, love! <3

AND OK THIS IS ADORABLE, you and tommy will always help each other wind down after a long day with cuddles and passion. i feel like he’d be super sweet and gentle with you all night and then he’ll start to get super playful and eventually… well you know. ;)

i hope this is what you were hoping for! enjoy! ❤️

staying in [tom hiddleston]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

summary: tom hiddleston x fem!reader ; you and your loving boyfriend enjoy a relaxing night at home with one another. little did you realize, the night was only just beginning.

warnings: smut (18+), minors DNI, very fluffy, swearing, fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, daddy kink, praise kink

a/n: my dearest apologies for the long wait! i hope you enjoy! requested by: @aestheticallyholland also, keep reading until the end to find my play on words for the title hehe

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The sweet aroma of freshly brewed tea swam through the house as you roamed back and forth in the kitchen. You elevated yourself onto your tippy-toes to retrieve two small cups from the tall cabinet. Seeing how the pair of cups sat neatly on the top shelf away from your reach, you let out a sigh. Of course, you knew who would be the only one tall enough in the house to reach that absurdly high shelving.

“Tom!” you shouted.

“Yes?” he called out from the next room.

“Come help me!” you exclaimed.

Tom was your darling boyfriend that you had met through a mutual friend. You still remember that night your friend dragged both you and Tom to that art museum with them. The both of you grew closer and closer with every conversation or text to where eventually you were inseparable. Even to this day, you smile remembering the day Tom asked you to be his.

“Someone needs rescuing?” Tom quips with a smile, striding into the kitchen. Yup. You had thought to yourself. If anyone would have legs long enough to reach the top shelf, it’s definitely him.

“Absolutely!” you say, playing along. “I don’t know how I’d ever survive if I don’t get my cup of tea right this instance.”

Tom laughs and walks past you to effortlessly pick the two teacups from the cabinet and place them in your hands.

“My lady.” he says with a wink. You giggle.

“Oh, my hero.” you fake a swoon before setting the china cups on the counter. As you being pouring you and your beloved a cup of tea, you feel his body press against your back gently.

His long arms snake around your waist to pull you closer into him. You feel his lips press into your neck, pecking kisses all over your skin.

“The movie is starting, you know.” Tom informs you. You hum slightly, feeling his lips form a smile in the nape of your neck.

“Well, you wanted tea, mister.” you laughed, turning to present him with his cup. “Ta-da!” you exclaim, making Tom chuckle.

“Oh, what would I do without you?” he sighs, taking the cup into his hands before leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead. You smile before going to reach for you own cup.

“Hm, I don’t know. Brew your own tea?” you joke, taking a small sip. “Needs more honey.” you say, turning around and placing the cup onto the surface. Tom rolls his eyes dramatically, setting his cup on the counter.

“And I need your company.” he states slyly. Before you could question what he meant, Tom scoops you into his arms causing a squeal to escape your lips.

“Thomas!” you giggle as he starts carrying you bridal style into the living room. “You wanted tea!”

“Yes but I’m afraid I’ll go crazy if you spend another second away from me.” Tom laughs, placing you down onto the couch. He then quickly crawls on top of you to press open mouthed kisses into your neck once more.

“I was only gone for ten minutes!” you claim.

“Exactly.” he laughs. “You’re incredibly slow.”

“Hey!” you say, grabbing a pillow to playfully wack Tom in the side with. He turns to look at you with a devilish smile.

“Oh, you’ll regret that!” he exclaims before lunging at you to tickle you, causing you to burst out into tears of laughter.

“Tom! Stop that! I’m ticklish!” you laugh uncontrollably, trying to push him off you.

“Don’t mess with the God of Mischief, darling!” he says, before attacking your neck again with nips and pecks, his hands still mercilessly tickling at your sides.

Hooking your legs around his slim waist, you jump and pounce on Tom, sending him onto his back. You pin his arms above his head, looking into his crystal blue orbs.

“Or what?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. Tom stare deeply into your eyes, taking note of how stunning you appeared above him. Tom allows his head to fall back ontoo the couch, letting him lay completely under your touch.

After a moment of breath, Tom begins to grin. You watch as his piercing eyes rake over your form.

“What is it?” you ask softly. Tom brings his gaze back to your eyes and sighs joyfully.

“You’re just so beautiful.” he whispers, causing you to blush. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, looking up at you with pleading eyes. You couldn’t bare to resist him any longer.

With your grip still locked on Tom’s wrists, you bow your head to connect your lips with his. As the kiss deepens, you feel him slip his tongue into your mouth, making you moan in pleasurable surprise.

Tom begins to slowly sit up, allowing you to slide further into his lap. You move your hands from his wrists to cup his face while his arms drop to his side. You then feel Tom’s hands slither up your legs to caress your thighs, making you squirm. When the kiss breaks, his eyes are immediately connected with yours.

“Already writhing under my touch, Y/N?” he questions quietly. You blush, looking away in embarrassment.

“No, darling. You know better.” he corrects you, brings his fingers under your chin to lead your face back to in front of his. “Never be ashamed of the pleasure I give you.” he says before bringing you into another kiss. This one was shorter. You disconnected from his lips quickly to speak, still tasting him on your tongue.

“Tommy…” you whisper, your voice almost cracking.

“Hm?” he hums.

“T-the movie.” Is all you could trust yourself to say. You feel him groan against your skin, his hands traveling up your spine to rub soothing circles over your back.

“That can wait. I want you right now.” he insisted. His suggestive words go right to your core as you begin to feel yourself become wet. One of his hands then slowly drop to the bottom of your shirt. He takes the fabric and slowly begins to move it upwards.

“May I?” Tom asks kindly.

“Please.” you whisper, lifting your arms to allow him to undress you. Tom gently discards your shirt onto the floor before removing his own, revealing his broad shoulders and long torso.

You place your hands on Tom’s chest to feel his bare skin against yours, allowing you to feel closer to him. You then press small kisses across his chest while you sneak your hand down to undo Tom’s belt. Though he was swift to stop you.

“Ah, ah. Ladies first, my love.” he tells you as he grabs your hands to halt their movements. He lifts you up slightly to place you flat onto your back on the couch. You sigh in pleasure as you feel Tom kiss his way from your neck down to your clothed breasts.

Both his hands travel up your stomach to knead your breasts through your bra. You groan, relishing in your boyfriend’s praising touch. One of his hands snake towards the back of your bra, skillfully unclasping the straps. Once the lacy fabric falls, Tom’s eyes roamed all over you body with want and hunger. He took note of how the cool air hit your nipples, causing them to harden for him. Tom hums in appreciation, gently pawing at your tits.

“You’re so stunning.” he says in pure awe. He lowers his head down to capture one of your firm nipples into his hot mouth. He sucks on it gently, making you arch your back into his mouth. Your head falls back as he returns the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through Tom’s light and wavy locks, giving them a tug every so often. His warm and wet tongue felt heavenly in comparison to the chilled room. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, making you buck your hips up into him. You were absolutely craving that friction.

“P-please Tom, I need more.” you whisper. Tom glances at you before giving you a devious smile.

“As you wish.” he says simply before sinking down the couch further towards your burning heat. His hands follow, gently caressing down your bare tummy to the band of the pair of sweatpants you had worn for the night in. 

Tom then hooks his fingers in the hem of your pants before looking up at you for your approval with his puppy dog eyes. Although this was not the first time you and Tom had been intimate with one another, you still felt safe and comforted whenever Tom asked your permission for anything and everything. You soften your eyes and give him a soft nod. Tom’s smile grows impossibly wider before he places one last final kiss on your stomach right bellow your belly button.

He removes both your pants and panties in one swift movement, tossing them near by your shirt. Tom takes in the sight of your glistening pussy, ready to be touched. He brings his thumb down onto your sensitive clit, rubbing small circles into your body. You moan out in ecstasy upon feeling his fingers finally touch your needy body.

“Mmm.” Tom practically growls, admiring the sight of your bare cunt. “All mine.” he whispers. With no further warning, Tom dives into your warmth, devouring your dripping pussy.

“Oh, fuck!” you mewl out, arching your back off the couch. This spurs on Tom, his clever tongue beginning to work faster.

You pull at his hair, causing him to moan into your pussy. He ate you like a man starved, his talented tongue licking up every last drop of your sweet juice. You grind yourself onto face, his hands giving your thighs a gentle squeeze before he lifts up his head once again.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and make a mess of my face, Y/N?” he asks in that delicious british accent of his. “Do you want my fingers?” he questions.

“Yes! Yes please, may I please take your fingers into my pussy?” you moan out. Tom smiles against you before pushing a single digit into you. Your moans echo through the house as Tom quickens his pace. He’s quick to find your sweet spots, causing you to push yourself further down onto his fingers.

“You are hugging me so tightly, Darling. I think I ought to stretch you out.” he whispers sinfully before adding in another finger. Once they settle deep inside you he scissors his fingers inside of you ever so slightly.

“Thank you!” you cry. “Your fingers feel amazing, daddy.” you say. Tom grins, his fingers starting to pump in and out of you. He hits your g spot perfectly, making you impossibly wetter.

“I can feel how close you’re growing.” he claims, looking up into your eyes with darkness. “Go ahead, love, cum for me. Show me how much you love my fingers.”

“Yes, daddy! I’m cumming!” you moan. With that, the coil in your stomach snapped with intense pleasure, the wave of your orgasm rushing over you completely.

Tom’s fingers slowed to let you ride out your high. Once his fingers stilled, he pressed one last kiss to your clit before slipping his soaked digits from your sopping pussy.

“Look at this mess you’ve made.” Tom says with a devilish smile. “Go ahead, my girl. Clean it up.” he tells you before bringing his dripping fingers to your mouth. You open obediently, moaning once you taste yourself on the thickness of his fingers.

Your tongue swipes and rolls around his fingers as you made sure to suck on them for good measure. Tom watched you intently, his teeth bared and mouth slightly open while he sighed deeply.

“Fuck, I love you.” he said breathlessly before bringing your face in to kiss him. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting all of you at once. Once this kiss broke, he immediately brought his lips down to your breasts.

“May I make you feel even better?” he pleads with a gentle tone, his eyes asking you for permission to bed you. “Please, Y/N, let me take you.” he whispers into your ear while his hands continued to massage your sides and hips.

As he sucked marks and hickies into your skin you moaned slightly at the sensation of his talented mouth.

“Oh, Tom! Yes! You make it feel so good.” you whisper, your head dizzy with euphoria. Tom stops to glance up at your eyes with a smile.

“Please, I need you.” you nod with a whine.

“Don't worry, my dear. I'm here to keep you happy." he reassures you with a sweet tone. After pecking one last kiss onto your belly, Tom sits up onto his knees to unfasten his belt buckle. The sound of metal clanking filled the room as you continued to watch him.

Once Tom dropped his jeans along with his boxers, you witnessed his hard cock spring into action and bob up and down obscenely. You could feel yourself practically salivating over the delicious sight of his twitching member. You could spot a small pearl of precum leaking from his red and angry tip. Tom must've caught you staring because he chuckled to himself, snapping you out of your daydreaming.

“See something you like, love?” he leases, his voice smooth and deep. You nod eagerly, sitting up to allow yourself a better view of your godly boyfriend.

“Mm, yes sir.” you hum, giving him a wink. “This view just might be even better than that plump backside of yours.” you teased, making Tom scoff with a smile.

“What a tease.” he laughs before, hooking his hands on each of your thighs to yank you closer to him. Your wet entrance pressed against the tip of his cock, causing you to moan out from the sudden contact.

“Do you want me, Y/N?” he asks, placing his hands on either side of your head to position himself above you.

“Always.” you say truthfully.

“Show me.” he requests.

After a brief pause, you give him a mischievous smirk. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist and pushed your heels into his lower back, forcing his cock to slide inside of you.

You and Tom both throw your heads back in a moan, flooding in the passion you had for one another. Tom pulled your body closer to his so he was completely flush against you, his cock nestled deep inside your pussy. He could feel you pulsing around him, begging him to move.

“You are perfection, fuck!” Tom moaned out as he pulled out completely only to slam back inside you. Your back arches off the couch due to the snap in his hips.

“Yes! Thank you, daddy!” you cry. “Oh, yes, p-please make me cum, daddy, please.” you babbled on, his body driving you near insanity.

“Shh, shh, relax. I’ll get you there, it’s alright.” he whispered before leaning down to gently kiss a tear that had fallen down your cheek. “Now be a good girl and let the whole neighborhood know exactly who is making you feel this damn good.”

With that, Tom set a merciless pace of harsh thrusts against your softness. The sound of skin slapping skin flooded the room, quickly followed by Tom’s grunts and your moans.

“Fuck, Tom, feels so good! Please don’t stop!” you moan, wrapping your arms around his strong neck for leverage.

“Believe me baby, I wouldn’t dream of it.” he grunted, hips still rolling deep into you. You could feel every ridge and vein rubbing inside your walls, hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

Your nails dug into his broad shoulders, making him hiss into your ear in bliss. His thrusts began to falter, signaling that he was getting close. You pull yourself closer to Tom, wrapping your legs around his strong hips even tighter.

Tom settles from his hands down to rest on his forearms, connecting his chest with your own. You could feel his rapid heartbeat against your sweaty chest as he lowered his head to kiss you.

You bring one of your hands to tangle into his dark blonde locks, deepening the kiss. You both moan into each other’s mouths, adoring the feeling of being so deeply connected to each other. With one particularly hard thrust, you scream in ecstasy when his dick ruts into your g spot. Tom smirks into your neck, knowing he just found the spot. His thrusts quicken, being sure to hit that spot deep inside you every time.

“Fuck! Oh fuck, daddy, I’m close!” you cry. “Please let me cum, I’ve been such a good girl for you, daddy!” your filthy words fill Tom’s ears, making him growl.

“Not yet, darling. Hold on just a little longer.” he gasps, his thrusts becoming sloppier. You knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“T-Tom, please!” You feel yourself tighten around him, making Tom moan and give one last sharp thrust before spilling inside you.

“Fuck yes, Y/N, cum!” he moans, his cock stilled in your pussy. You scream, the coil in your tummy snaps, making your orgasm flood over his cock. You could feel Tom’s warm seed fill you up, making you gasp in pleasure. Once the room fell still again, so did Tom. He gently lowered himself onto you, careful not to crush you with his weight. You hugged him close to your bare front, rubbing his shoulders and back to soothe the red marks you had clawed into him. The two of you panted in the now silent room, recovering from your highs. You feel Tom begin to move to remove his now softening cock from your pussy. You quickly cease his movement by stopping his hips with your hand.

“Wait, please.” you whisper. Tom stops, afraid he hurt you, his worried eyes snapping to meet yours.

“Are you okay? Have I hurt you?” he asks, frantic. You place your hand on his cheek to calm his nerves.

“Shh, I’m okay... I just… miss you being this close.” you say, hugging him once more. “Can we stay like this just a little longer? Please, just stay inside me tonight.” you ask tiredly, certain you were already drifting off.

Tom smiles, and presses a lingering kiss into your temple before resting to cuddle you with his cock nestled inside you.

“Anything for you, my love. I’ll stay in tonight.”

[p-eppermintea]

Lather

AO3 LINK

Pairing: Erwin Smith / Levi Ackerman (Eruri) Characters: Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman Rating: Mature Warnings: N/A Word Count: 2630 Tags: Fluff, soft!Levi, First Kiss, Slightly implied praise kink, Hair Washing, Bathing/Washing, Flirting, Intimacy Excerpt / Summary:

“You know,” Erwin mumbles, brushing his palm softly against Levi’s forehead, “that I like to take care of you. Right?”

“Yes.” The simple word comes out as just a breath.

//

In which I’m really weak for Levi being soft with Erwin

Erwin’s knock, deep and solid, resonates throughout the hallway. He balances two teacups set upon a platter in his other hand.

There’s an irritated growl from the other side of the door and a series of clattering sounds, followed by the thump of footsteps on wooden floors. The door opens, and Levi pokes his head through. “What?” he hisses. He looks up at Erwin and raises an eyebrow. “Erwin.”

“Levi,” he replies. He holds up the platter by way of explanation. Levi furrows his brow and looks up at him in confusion. They stare each other down until Levi finally opens the door, stepping back behind it so that Erwin can come in.

It’s hot inside. It’s slightly bigger than most bathrooms – a bathtub, basin, countertop, mirror, and a toilet. The bathtub in the corner of the room is full of water and filling the room with steam. Erwin is only in there for a few seconds before he feels the first signs of sweat forming on his forehead and the back of his neck. Next to the basin, upon which Levi’s neatly folded clothes are hanging, is a short stool.

Levi closes the door behind him and carefully takes one of the cups from Erwin. He’s dressed only with a towel around his waist – clearly, he was just about to get into the bath. His torso, and all of his muscles and the ridges of his bones shine with a mix of water and sweat. He smells nice; he must have washed beforehand. Erwin tries not to look too hard.

Levi holds his cup by the rim and sips slowly, all while watching Erwin. He swallows, and Erwin watches the bob of his Adam’s apple with quiet appreciation. “What do you want, then?”

“Just thought I’d bring you some tea.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Erwin confirms.

Levi just looks at him, mouth slightly parted and his hands on his hips. His hip is cocked to one side as he studies Erwin’s face. What he’s looking for, Erwin isn’t really sure. A reason for his interruption. Perhaps there’s a problem with Levi himself, or the Survey Corps, or anything else to do with their professional lives. He’s searching for a hint of an ulterior motive, maybe.

“I hope you won’t mind if I stay a while,” Erwin adds.

“You want to stay,” Levi says slowly, “while I bathe?” He sighs. “Look, Erwin. If there’s something you need to talk to me about, I’m sure it can just wait.”

Erwin raises one thick eyebrow. “Can I not just simply enjoy your company?”

Levi gives him a look that would seem incredulous and awfully disdainful to those who didn’t know him. Erwin knows him well, though. He sees the subtle flashes of confusion and consideration behind his eyes; and admittedly, there’s still a hint of annoyance. But he still shrugs his shoulders casually. “Fine,” Levi huffs. He sets his teacup down on the countertop next to the basin.

Erwin takes the small victory in stride and pulls the short stool up to seat himself close by to the bath. The stool is tall enough that his feet can sit comfortably on the floor without his knees being too high up for comfort. He sets his cup carefully on the floor next to him and crosses his legs, folding his hands neatly in his lap.

He wonders; does Levi think that he’s not worth spending time with? Or perhaps that Erwin, in particular, wouldn’t want to – that maybe he doesn’t like him. On the contrary, actually. Of course, Erwin likes him. His strength both on and off the battlefield is admirable, and while his spiky personality is off-putting to most, to Erwin, it only adds to his charm. No one else would have the courage tell him how it is like Levi does.

Yes, Erwin likes Levi Ackerman quite a lot.

Levi shoots Erwin one last calculating look and drops his towel. Erwin looks away after that so as not to be rude, but he glances back in time to see Levi sinking down into the tub. His eyes close easily and he sighs as his chest, shoulders, and eventually the bottom of his jaw, are submerged in the steaming water.

Erwin feels a strong pang of affection for Levi in that moment. It’s rare to see him in such a relaxed state.

Levi slips further into the water until it engulfs his entire head. He stays there for a few seconds, and Erwin can only just see the bubbles that emerge from his mouth, and rise, rise, rise, until they burst at the surface.

Levi sits forward again, rubbing water out of his eyes. He slicks his hair back in one fluid motion and turns to look at Erwin with one eye open. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Surely you’re not just here to sit and stare at me while I take a bath like some kind of pervert.” He says it very matter-of-factly, and Erwin huffs out a short laugh at that. “So…?”

He fights to stop himself from the cheeky, “Well, what if I was?” that burns in his throat. Instead, he just shrugs. “It’s been a long day. A little relaxing company seemed in order.” Erwin leans forwards and rests his head on his hands. “Besides, with the amount of times you’ve barged in on me in the bath, I thought perhaps… a little bit of payback.”

Levi rolls his eyes. He leans back, draping his arms against the sides of the tub and throwing his head back. Water drips down from his fingertips and onto the floor. “You’re weird.” There’s a semblance of amusement in his voice.

Erwin hums in agreement. He unbuttons the top button of his shirt, the heat of the room finally starting to feel too overbearing. “I’ve never claimed to be anything different.”

Levi’s head lolls towards Erwin, eyes closed. He has a blissed-out look on his face, and Erwin wonders if he ever got to have many baths underground. This kind of comfort seems rare, for him. “Have to wash my hair,” Levi grumbles. “Pass me the soap by the basin, will you?”

Erwin obeys wordlessly, utilising his long limbs in order to grab it without having to step away. The bar is small next to Erwin’s large hands. He holds the soap out to Levi, and their fingers brush delicately – but he hesitates to let go of it. Levi wordlessly raises an eyebrow at him. “May I wash your hair?” Erwin asks, tentatively. He braces himself for Levi to spit an insult at him, but he just looks at him.

He sighs and pulls himself up slightly. “I guess, if that’s what gets you off,” he mumbles. He turns to look at Erwin “Don’t,” he hisses, looking at Erwin straight in the eye, “pull on my hair.”

Erwin can’t help the grin that forms on his lips. “I’ll be careful, I assure you.” The flirtation in his voice is stark and comfortable.

He pulls his stool closer so that he can sit himself back down at the head of the bath. He reaches over and holds his hands just above the water, with the soap bar tucked safely in one fist. “Do you mind?” His voice is quiet, being so close to Levi’s ear. Levi hums in affirmation. Erwin dips his hands into the water. They brush against Levi’s chest on the way out, and he swears that he sees him breathe in sharply. He puts his fingers under Levi’s chin and moves his head to rest against the edge. Levi just looks up at him, calm. Comfortable.

He slowly rubs the soap between his palms, working up a thick white lather. He starts to gently rub the soap into Levi’s hair, starting with the ends, and then getting into the roots and his scalp with his fingertips. He massages his scalp firmly but gently, and Levi’s eyes slip closed. His mouth falls open beautifully, and Erwin half expects him to start purring like a cat.

Erwin rubs the soap into Levi’s hair for a while, making sure that he doesn’t miss any part of his beautiful deep brown hair. He’s deliberately taking his time, if only just for the intimacy of it. Washing Levi’s hair is just that – intimate. The way that Levi squirms a little bit under his hands, and the quiet breaths and hums and little noises that he makes as Erwin’s fingers massage his scalp.

“You know,” Erwin mumbles, brushing his palm softly against Levi’s forehead, “that I like to take care of you. Right?”

“Yes.” The simple word comes out as just a breath.

Levi, with his fast reflexes, flexibility, and surprising brute strength, can look after himself on the field just fine; and Erwin would never take any of that away from him. To be fair, he can look after himself in all aspects of his life. But there’s something about taking care of him in little ways – like bringing Levi tea, or helping him into his ODM gear, or even washing his hair like this – that Erwin often finds himself craving. He’s never really felt like this before. Sure, there’s been a few moments in his life; he’s been on a couple of dates before, and he can think of a few casual fumblings behind the barracks after hours from his younger years. But he’s never had a real connection with anyone. He doesn’t have the luxury of a comfortable life with a partner that he’s madly in love with. He’ll never be able to live the life he wants; but he supposes that’s just the price he has to pay for the chance to save humanity.

But still… When he is with Levi like this, he feels like he can finally get a taste of what it might be like. He doesn’t necessarily think that he’s in love. He’s not really sure what that would entail. Sure, he finds himself wanting to kiss him often, and he imagines what would happen if he initiated some fumblings of their own, but he also just simply cares for him deeply. The bond that they’ve built between them since Levi was recruited is one of the strongest that Erwin has ever had. Levi trusts him, and everyone knows that that’s no easy feat. But, more importantly, Erwin trusts Levi. He’d easily give his life for Levi, and he knows that Levi would do the same for him.

Erwin presses his fingers into the back of Levi’s head and scrubs the short hair there. He hopes that Levi feels the same. “Do you like it when I take care of you?”

Levi leans his head back and looks up at Erwin with hooded lids. “Yes,” he says again; a breathy moan.

Erwin closes his eyes and smiles. What they’re doing doesn’t feel sexual. Erwin isn’t aroused, and Levi doesn’t seem to be either, despite his physical reactions. “I’m glad,” he whispers. “Time to rinse.”

Levi sinks back down and submerges his head again, and Erwin works his hands through his hair to thoroughly rinse the soap out. He urges Levi to come back up with his fingers under his jaw again. He leans back comfortably again, swiping a hand down his face to rid his skin from water.

“Good,” Erwin mumbles. He slicks Levi’s hair back and leans forwards to press a delicate kiss to the top of his forehead. He leaves his hand to rest on Levi’s cheek, pleasantly surprised when he leans into the touch.

They remain that way for a little while, but Levi eventually pulls away and sits up slowly. “I’m getting prune-y,” he says simply, and slowly stands. Erwin looks up at him and watches as water cascades down his arms and back, before settling into a gentle drip. When he throws his leg over the side of the tub and steps out carefully, Erwin is standing and ready with the towel stretched out between his hands. Levi calmly steps backwards into it and lets Erwin wrap him up.

“You treat all of your soldiers like this, Commander Smith?” Levi’s voice is joking. Flirtatious.

Erwin is taken aback a little bit, but he laughs quietly and turns Levi around to look at him. “Just the special ones.”

Levi is looking right up at him – the almost one-foot difference between them seems stark in this moment. He pulls one of his arms free from beneath the towel and reaches up to caress Erwin’s cheek. His hand slides around to cup the back of his neck. It’s such a strangely soft and relaxed action that Erwin can hardly believe that it’s Levi doing it. No matter how Levi may act while Erwin washes his hair, he’s never really been one for initiating intimate touching. And yet…

Levi rears up onto his toes and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of Erwin’s mouth. He lingers there, rubbing their noses together and looking right into his eyes. There’s a moment between them that lasts both way too long, and not nearly long enough. Erwin holds back the little whine rising in the back of his throat and kisses Levi right back.

It doesn’t really go much further than a few innocent little kisses.

Erwin had always imagined that Levi would kiss like he fought – aggressive, messy, and demanding – but Levi right now is gentle and sweet. He steps back and looks up at Erwin with a certain intensity in his eyes that Erwin can’t quite put his finger on.

“Thank you,” is all Levi says.

All Erwin can do for a few seconds is blink at him in confusion. “Thank you?” he repeats.

Levi huffs and smacks Erwin’s chest with the back of his hand. “For washing my hair.” He says it as though Erwin is the biggest idiot he’s ever met. He thoroughly dries himself off and starts to pull his trousers back on.

Erwin rubs the back of his neck. He’s still a little starstruck from their kiss. The feeling of Levi’s hand on the back of his neck lingers, tingling deliciously on his skin. “Right. Um, you’re welcome.”

Levi raises an eyebrow at him and shrugs his shirt over his shoulders. “Lost for words for once?” he asks. “I never thought I’d see the day that you finally shut the fuck up.”

Erwin barks out a laugh and steps forwards, reaching out automatically to do up Levi’s shirt buttons. “If you want me to shut up, all you have to do is ask.”

“And yet there you are, flapping your mouth again,” Levi says fondly. “Even if I asked, would you really shut up?”

“Perhaps not.” Erwin looks up at Levi from beneath his lashes. “Maybe you’d have to make me.”

Levi is quiet for a moment. He seems to deliberate for a moment, but his mood is generally unreadable. They flirt in private sometimes, but never to this extent. He puts a hand on Erwin’s chest and pushes him backwards firmly. “Maybe I will.”

Erwin lets Levi push him backwards until his back is pressed firmly against the wall. He braces himself, but all Levi does is pull him down to kiss him again. He does it just twice, and then steps back. “Our tea has probably gone cold.”

“Probably,” Erwin agrees.

“Go make us some more.” Levi pauses. “And… I’ll meet you at your chambers, okay?”

Wide-eyed, Erwin nods and moves quickly to slip out of the bathroom. “Don’t forget to pick your fucking shit up off of the floor this time, or I won’t be coming anywhere near that shithole,” Levi calls out after him.

Erwin can’t help the easy smile adorns his face as he makes his way down the hallway.

[desperationandgin]

Strawberry Wine (Part 1, Chapter 3)

Rating: General Audiences

Author: desperationandgin

Previous Chapter

Also Read On: AO3

A/N: My continued thanks (and this won’t change!) to @smashing-teacups, @missclairebelle, and @lcbeauchampoftarth for being great and invaluable betas! Moodboard thanks for this entire series goes to @filledwithlight :)

Chapter 3: He Had a Car

There it was. That old 1937 Ford, or what was left of it, anyway. To see it in such a condition (rusted out, tire-less and with a missing bed) made my heart ache so violently that I pressed a hand to my chest, pushing back to keep it in place. When I closed my eyes, I could see the ghost of him, sitting on the driver’s side with an arm slung out of the window and leaning his head out as well. He would grin at me, driving so slowly I could lean down and give him a sweet kiss.

We kissed and more in that truck. We spilled ourselves to one another in that truck. I said my goodbyes to him, sobbing, while sitting in that truck. And now here it was, this object that held such an important part of my soul, forgotten in an overgrown yard.

+++++

As Jamie and I spent time together, we were both unable to deny we were strongly attracted to one another; it was clear by the second night when I couldn’t help gravitating closer to him, until my head had rested on his shoulder while we spoke by the fire. I didn’t know about him, but I’d never been so taken with a person. My first thoughts upon waking were of whether he might be awake already (He always was; up with the sun) or if he laid in bed thinking of me. I was always eager to see him in the mornings, and at night, after he’d walked me back to my room, my last thoughts were inevitably of him. Jamie Fraser was on my mind constantly, and I was aware that our time together would not continue uninterrupted forever.

Our third time out together, he’d given me a proper tour of Lallybroch and the grounds surrounding it. A natural-born storyteller, I couldn’t help but listen, paying rapt attention to the way his hands gesticulated and his eyes danced with mischief as he regaled me with tales of spooked horses and snakes hiding in hay. I’d decided then that I could listen to him speak forever and never tire of his voice; the way it lilted was almost melodic, and I’d imagined the way it would wash over me if I ever had the chance to lay in his arms, tired but warm and buzzing with fading pleasure.

The fourth day, my only opportunity to see him had been at breakfast; for most of the late morning and afternoon, he was away with his father, driving to visit tenants. He’d offered to take me along, but I’d felt badly about neglecting Lamb in favor of spending time with Jamie. So, I’d begged off and spent most of mid-day and early evening with my uncle, poking about the library before letting him take me to places he’d been before. I couldn’t say it wasn’t interesting and educational; he took me to Prestonpans and Edinburgh before we were done with our long day of travel, and by the time I tumbled out of the car, I was ready for my head to hit the pillow. But there would be no stopping Jamie and I from spending the next day together, alone.

That day had been the day I discovered he had a 1937 Ford pickup, and I’d ended our brief meeting by telling him under no circumstances were we to do anything but go for a ride in his truck the next afternoon; a miniature road trip, all because I wanted to go driving with him.

He didn’t disappoint.

The next morning, after waking and dressing for the day, I made my way downstairs to the smell of sausage and syrup, and Jamie’s sister settling a large platter of pancakes in the middle of the table. Once we were sitting, it was all I could do to stop myself from grinning broadly at Jamie around my fork. When he returned it, my heart squeezed in my chest and I was sure my cheeks flushed.

“Would ye like to accompany me to Inverness, Sassenach?” he asked casually. “I thought I could show ye around some of the wee shops.” His gaze, from the corner of his eyes, darted toward his father and I realized this for what it was: a show.

“Of course,” I lied (what I hoped was smoothly), but made it a point to hide my face behind a cup of tea. “That’s one place Lamb and I didn’t make it to the other day, and I’d like to see it.”

“‘Tis settled then. As soon as I finish my duties, we’ll go out,” Jamie promised, and under the table, I felt his boot-clad foot nudge mine. Sharing a smile with him, I finished my pancakes, all the while keeping my foot lightly pressing to the top of his.

After Jamie excused himself I lingered at the table, forcing myself to eat at a normal pace rather than shovel food into my mouth as I listened to Lamb and Mr. Fraser discuss Culloden. I couldn’t believe they hadn’t exhausted themselves on the matter after years excavating the site. Still, I contributed politely, waiting it out for half an hour before finally excusing myself. As soon as I was out of view, I bolted for the stairs, going up quickly and changing from my casual trousers into a light blue dress with sleeves almost to my elbow. Pairing it with brown heels and a thin gold watch, I finished my look by setting my curls free and ruffling a hand through tangled strands to make them spring to life.

Outside, I paused on the front step to take a deep breath of fresh country air, admiring the blue of the sky. Already, it was a perfect day, and would only continue to be so. I made my way off to the right toward the stables, taking my time about it. Once Jamie came into view, I stopped to admire him leading horses out of their stalls, letting them free to graze all day. Not for the first time, I appreciated the hard lines of his body. He told me once that he played shinty in highschool, and it wasn’t hard to imagine him being athletic.

“Will staring at me be somethin’ ye do often, Sassenach?”

His words immediately pulled me out of my thoughts and I smiled innocently at him. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at me.” It never felt invasive; when his stare settled on me, it always felt as though a warm blanket were wrapping around the very marrow of me. “Fair’s fair.”

Chuckling, he ducked his head as I finally walked toward him; once I was close enough, Jamie leaned over the fence and kissed my cheek lightly. “I suppose ye may be right. If I canna help myself, there’s no sense blamin’ ye for the same thing.”

“At least you have good sense,” I wryly mused before watching him next lead a beautiful black horse out of the stables. “What’s this one’s name?”

Jamie ran a hand over the horse’s withers. “This is Donas. Braw and fast, but mean. Throws everyone off but me.”

“I wonder what it is about you?” I asked curiously, not bothering to try reaching out to pet an ill-tempered animal.

“I dinna ken. I suppose we bonded, is all.”

Jamie shrugged it off, but I knew. It was easy to see the kind nature of him; his very presence could put a person at ease, and his eyes held sincere gentility within them.

“I think it’s incredible, that of everyone here who must’ve tried, you’re the only one he trusts.” I maintained eye contact with Jamie, watching as he let that sink in.

“Why, do ye think?”

“What?” Surely I wasn’t meant to say all the things I felt aloud.

“What do ye think the horse sensed in me and me alone?”

As he asked, he walked closer, reins still in hand. Clearing my throat, I fiddled with the clasp on my watch to buy myself time before looking back at him, dropping my hands. “I think Donas senses that you would never hurt him,” I began, letting myself get lost in the different hues of blue his eyes reflected. “I like to think perhaps he realizes you’re a safe person, someone worthy of trust.” There was more I could say, but I was stopped by the way his eyes drifted from mine to the nose of the horse.

There my hand was, idly stroking, and I paused in surprise, unsure of why I felt my face flush.

“Whatever he thinks of me, Sassenach, it seems he’s of the same mind about you as well.”

I watched as Jamie smiled in a way so beautiful it would be forever imprinted on my heart. We left the stables shortly after, and he led me by the hand to his truck. Once we were both settled in, he headed for open road. We started on the path to Inverness, then took a side street and enjoyed the fresh air and scenery. As I watched the fields go by, I couldn’t help but comment. “This might be the most beautiful place in the world, Jamie.”

When he glanced at me, I caught his eyes and we exchanged matching grins. “Aye, it is,” he answered simply, then reached for my hand.

I held onto him, watching as the breeze from the open window made his curls dance across his neck. “I do think you’re kind and wonderful, you know,” I finally murmured, body turned in my seat a bit so I could see him better.

The very tips of his ears turned pink, his thumb running a nervous course on the underside of my wrist. If he would only stop, he’d be able to feel my heart beating wildly under his thumb.

“I try to be, ye ken?” he asked quietly. “Kind, I mean. There’s too much happening in the world; I might as well aim to be better than that.” News of what was happening with Hitler in Germany was never lacking, the collective rest of the world seeming to hold its breath. “My mam always told me being kind never cost anyone anything.”

“What was she like, your mother?” I found myself asking, mostly just wanting to hear him speak as much as possible.

“Her hair was like mine,” Jamie said with a soft smile and a glance toward me. “And she was tall. Taller than you, Sassenach.” His father was a bit shorter, and so, Jamie took after his mother in every way. “She had two brothers, my Uncles Dougal and Colum, and neither of them approved of her marrying my father on account that she could marry better. Higher than a farmer, ye ken.”

“Clearly, that didn’t matter to her,” I observed.

“Och, no, she wound up sneaking away one night and meeting my father at the kirk. They were hand-fast and, well. After that, she couldna be allowed to give birth to a bastard, so…” He trailed off with a sly smirk tossed my way.

I laughed, hiding my smile behind my fingers. “That’s terribly romantic, Jamie.” I found myself wondering what it would be like to love someone so fiercely that you would defy your own flesh and blood to have them.

Turning my eyes back to the road, he continued to talk, telling me stories of his life growing up (He’d had an older brother, Willie, who’d died when Jamie was eight. Just before that, his mother had come down with a flu so terrible she’d died, and with her another baby boy, stillborn. It was all so horrible to hear, and yet the way he told the story was with the natural gift of an orator, something I idly thought each time he began telling a story.), and what he hoped to do for the farm once he officially ran things on his own.

“What about you, Sassenach?” he asked curiously. “Tell me about your family, your life growing up.”

I shifted in my seat, somewhat taken off guard by the shift in the conversation to me. “Well,” I began somewhat feebly. “You know my parents died when I was five. I don’t remember much before that.”

“I do remember ye tellin’ me,” Jamie replied tenderly, taking my hand and raising it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. Eyes on the road again, he spoke. “What’s yer happiest memory?”

He didn’t let go of my hand, the ghost of his lips still clinging to my skin (he made my belly coil so tightly I briefly shuddered), so my fingers laced through his as I swallowed and closed my eyes to think. I could feel his gaze every time he glanced from the road to me. I tried to focus on one flash of a moment and expand upon it: being at the shore. It had to have been just before Lamb became my guardian, because it was one of my clearer memories; even still, it was fuzzy.

“I remember going to the seaside with my parents. I don’t remember where, if we were somewhere in London, but I remember my father lifting me up onto his shoulders while he waded into the water.” I could still see my mother across from us in the water, smiling. I couldn’t really make out her face, but I knew it was her. Opening my eyes, I looked over at Jamie. “That, I suppose. I think I remember eating sweets in a shop that day, too.”

Jamie turned onto a road that wasn’t paved, but it was clearly well-traveled. “I’ve never been to the beach,” he reminded me. “But I canna wait to go one day wi’ ye. Make more happy memories.”

His words made my heart blossom with warmth, my features softening as I looked at him with fondness. He was so sweet-natured and kind; somehow he maintained a part of his boyhood innocence, even with all that he’d lost. “I want that too, Jamie,” I replied honestly, watching as high cliffs came into view before giving way to more meadow, rolling hills, and water below.

When we stopped, we were at Loch Lomond, and I stepped out of the car to look out at the water from where he’d parked. The body of water wasn’t very wide, but as I looked out from the hill I stood on, it seemed to stretch toward the horizon forever. I sensed Jamie beside me and turned to see him shaking out a blanket before laying it down for us to sit beneath a large Scot’s Elm tree. After one more trip to the truck, he was finally back with a basket containing our lunch, and we sat beside one another, grazing on grapes and cheese. Playfully, I broke a grape from the vine and held it to his lips, grinning when he not only obliged me by taking the fruit into his mouth, but kissed the tips of my fingers as well.

“I reckon I could spend every day just like this wi’ ye,” he murmured, gaze fixed directly on me.

“We can, you know. At least right now. We could come here every day until September.” I sounded earnest to my own ears, eager. “As long as I can spend time with you,” I amended, “I’m not sure I care where it is.”

Chuckling sweetly, Jamie reciprocated my earlier gesture by offering a piece of cheese, which I took gladly. “If I didna have to tend to my normal duties, I ken I would spend every waking moment wi’ ye, Sassenach.”

His comment made me blush, but I liked it; and when he held out his hand to me, I took it, running my fingers along his palm slowly. He did the same to my hand, and together we explored the various lines and curves in one simple appendage. His hands were strong and wide, the pads of his fingers calloused from years of labor. Lazily, his fingers climbed toward my wrist, tracing one of my blue-green veins with the tip of his index finger.

“I’ve never met someone sae bonny,” he spoke quietly.

“Surely there are Highlander girls who’ve caught your eye,” I stated dubiously.

He huffed out a laugh. “I’m no’ saying I’m chaste, so aye, and they were pretty lasses, but you, Sassenach—” He paused to let his fingers glide down my jaw before his entire hand cradled my cheek. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, and even if I did, my mouth was suddenly so dry I couldn’t swallow. Luckily, there was nothing I needed to say. I saw him lean toward me and I knew to meet him in the middle, our lips coming together in a tentative first kiss. I felt his hands come up to my hair and tangle in the curls while my own spread across his shoulders. The kiss became less tentative and more lustful as I felt him press closer and I pressed back, my lips parting beneath his.

With the first feel of his tongue against mine, I made a noise I was sure I never had before. It only encouraged him (both of us), and then I took my turn to taste and explore him. Jamie was all woodsmoke and pine, earth and salt. As I had my fill, I realized hazily that I was in his lap and couldn’t remember how I got there. My fingers found a home in his hair as we took turns fighting for dominance, tongues pausing to duel before one of us would inevitably retreat in surrender. Eventually, the need to take deep lungfuls of air caught up with us both, and my forehead pressed to his.

“Christ, Sassenach,” he uttered on an exhale. “How did ye learn to kiss that way?”

My smile was coy as I laughed contentedly. I’d traveled the world and had my fair share of kissing lessons. My eighteenth birthday was particularly illuminating in Jericho, but instead of saying all that, I let my nose glide down the length of his until my lips hovered close enough to kiss, but didn’t.

“I don’t recall mentioning my chastity, either.” I kissed him then, swallowing his responding sound of surprise. When he finally pulled back to look at me, I spoke before he could. “Are you disappointed?”

There was a moment my question hung in the air before he simply shrugged and shook his head, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Ye ken, Sassenach? I dinna believe there’s a thing in the world ye could ever do to disappoint me.”

As we kissed there, under the tree and overlooking the Loch, I hoped that he was right.

Next Chapter

[justhereforseverus]

A Rose by Any Other Name would Smell as Sweet

Chapter 8: Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs

Summary:

Finally, tea time with Severus. During all this, the protagonist realises she's fallen for him.

Notes:

This might be a bit emotional and messy but heeeeey those are the days. Thank you so much for reading, your kudos and comments!<3

I always wonder what Snape's favourite book would be...

Chapter Text

To say I was nervous was a massive understatement. Sure, we got closer during the last weeks due to his involvement in the drama group but apart from that we didn’t spend much time together alone. And to bring him into my quarters felt… like something else. Yet, I know myself only too well. I’ve grown rather attached to that mysterious man. I’ve  caught myself staring more than once at him, simply watching how he moved with the ever presence of elegance and utmost concentration. His long black hair assists him in his dramatic turns and movements and I’ve found myself utterly fascinated. I only hoped I didn’t pretend, overinterpreted, overanalysed signs that were not there. Because when it comes to hard evidence, I only have his offer to work with me, what he shared about his life and work, almost hidden smiles and his hand softly squeezing mine on stage. That could mean everything and nothing. In the end, he could simply be polite while feeling repulsed by me.

Nevertheless, we’ve arrived at the Ravenclaw tower together. Thankfully, Ravenclaw staff don’t have to solve the riddles but gets a note with their solutions every morning. Because as much as I’m glad I was sorted here, gosh these riddles are annoying. I’ve never been good at solving them, so I’d always feel utterly unworthy to belong in this house. While entering Severus said: “I always found the riddles rather amusing but I’m not sure if they actually prove any intelligence at all.”

“I hope so. Otherwise, I probably don’t belong here. I find them often quite stupid and exhausting. Every time, I overthink the words too much and feel like an idiot when the solution is plain simple.”

“That is indeed brave to say as a Ravenclaw. Maybe I should send Flitwick a note.” - he said in jest.

“Don’t you dare! Oh, here we are. These are my quarters. Don’t expect anything too grand and it’s certainly not as tidied up as I wanted to.”

I did mean that but I’ve also tidied the whole room for about 3 hours the night before…

“In my experience, this is most often said by people who actually have made an effort to clean everything.” – he said while stepping inside and taking a look around.

“Ok, ok Mr Mindread. I take that still as a compliment to my household skills though”

He chuckled and followed me deeper into the room. My office consists mainly of bookshelves that cover every wall. In the middle was an old and big desk made of oakwood with a set of chairs on the one side and a huge leather chair on the other. The roof was the same as everywhere in the towers: an enchanted roof with a blue and starry night sky. I stepped to the wall on the left and said my password while moving my wand casting a recognition spell. The bookshelf opened up on one side, revealing stairs towards my private living quarters. They consisted of a living room, bedroom, and a small open kitchen. Here, too were book shelves everywhere and pile of books laying around. Attached to the living room was a tiny balcony with a beautiful view over Hogwarts grounds.

I invited him to follow me in my living room and told him to sit on the couch while I was brewing some tea. He sat there looking around but after a while went to the balcony to look outside. While looking he said: “A wonderful view. I always forget how small but comfortable the Ravenclaw quarters are with their balconies. Certainly a difference to the dungeon. The roof should give you much comfort though. Weird how you still long for more stars at night.”

“Well, yes it’s magnificent. However, the real stars are something else and I also just like sitting and walking around in the gardens.”

He returned to the couch and looked closely at a pile of books put on the table in front of him. After asking with a small “May I” he picked up a book from the pile on my table and looked absentmindedly through it. This felt unreal. He on my couch. The most unsocial and mean teacher at Hogwarts being so quiet and polite.

After putting the tea on the table with two glass cups, I sat beside him and said: “And what do you think of the book?”

“Jane Eyre. Interesting. I appreciate the growth of the character but in the beginning, she was quite a nuisance.”

“So, you’d rather be strict and violent as the pastor was?”

“Well, I don’t agree with his morals but I do agree with the strictness. Students are incompetent.”

“They’re just children. They do stupid things. They don’t want to study but have fun. Were you the perfect student back in the days?”

Here he paused for a bit in thought before saying: “Officially, I never broke any rules. Sometimes I had the intention but was disrupted or changed my mind. However, yes, I have to admit, I disagreed with my teachers but more in private. Slughorn was a rather incompetent potion maker. He was more interested in collecting names than grades. He and Minerva also protected students that broke the school rules many more times than I could count. I’ll never forget that from the oh-so-brave Gryffindor house. Especially, as they are always quick to stop me doing the same favouritism they’ve been practicing for more than a decade”

“I guess Slytherin and Gryffindor have a long tradition of hating each other. In general, I have the feeling that Hogwarts is not really interested in an anti-mobbing agenda.”

“That never was the case. You give up after 11 years of teaching here and even more after knowing how it is to be a student. And I admit, this might include my harsh teaching methods.”

“So you feel regret? Why not change?”

“I don't know... No, I don't feel much regret. Someone needs to be the villain here.”

“How can you say that when you know it’s wrong?”

He sighed and looked sternly at the teacup in his hand: “Maybe I’m just an asshole. Not that this is an excuse. I expect perfection because I try to show perfection in everything I do and I may say, I often achieve it. On the other hand, maybe I’ve just given up after years of seeing incompetence rewarded, privilege favoured, voices ignored and change rarely happening. So, I play the role that they’ve made me out to be because it fits. I know I’m responsible for some emotional scarring. But be assured I’d protect every student with my life when it should come to that, independent of their houses or standing. I’m not a good person (y/n), as you know, and I certainly don’t feel the need to justify myself to anyone.”

“I know, you don’t have to. I don’t want you to. I don’t want to reform you. I just want to get to know you better because that’s what I want to do and I feel like we have a common passion. Despite all this you’re here and at least show self-awareness. And I still want to talk to you. What does this say about me?”

“Truly, I don’t know. Maybe you’re mad and I shouldn’t be here.”

“Glad you are. Despite all this.”

He looked away, pretending to see something at the window. But I could see him smile softly. I felt like with this discussion our relationship has grown. We put something aside, we set boundaries and exchanged viewpoints. We returned to the discussion of books.

“Next to Shakespeare what do you usually read?”

“Everything that seems to have a purpose.”

“Oh, so no trashy romance novels and dragon stories?”

“I don’t see the point of “trashy romance novels” but I have to admit that Victorian novels are often full of silly love games and yet I read them.”

“I agree with you though I’m not so romantic at heart.”

“Love can be a powerful motivator. Yet, it bears many risks and clouds judgements. I have to say I prefer their controlled and polite way to make connections.  I also try to read authors that show other perspectives. Voices that have previously been ignored. I have to admit, I need some recommendations in that regard though.”

“I can help you with that.”

We sat there for hours taking up books from shelves and talking about them. I’ve never seen him that.. emotional? Like he usually is very controlled. Smiles and laughter are always short, glimpses, you have to watch it closely. Yet, here…he seemed to smile more and more, show emotions clearly. When he hated a book, he hated it with passion, when he loved it you could see him gushing about it. Every book he didn’t know was picked up with curiosity, questions and a genuine interest.

I watched his black eyes reading pages, his soft and gaunt fingers handling the books with the utmost care. At one point did we sit on the floor because I looked for a book on the lowest shelf and he joined me there instead of staying on the couch. I still know how special and untypical that felt for him. The tall man sitting on my blue carpet like a little boy. I smelt his perfume and looked at his expensive and fine clothes. I wondered why he wears his sleeves so long that they hide parts of his hands. Maybe it gives him some kind of comfort? I had to stop myself staring at his face out of fear he’d ask what the hell I was doing. I think that was the night I fell in love. Here, in the sanctuary of my room away from everything he was outside. Where he felt human, kind, compassionate. From here on, I knew I was doomed for a possible heartbreak and I had to be cautious.

We also talked about our relationship to literature and writing. I told him: "I feel like words connect us and the written word connects us even after our death. Just think about how many of these authors are long gone and yet we talk about them. Even if they weren't heard during their lifetimes, we listen and remember them, giving them the attention that they deserve. I hope one day my words will survive and mean something to someone."

"So you don't think you are appreciated and heard now? You're an academic and stood on the stage for many years. I'd argue people listen to you" - replied Severus.

"Yes, I know that sounds horribly selfish from my privileged perspective. People listen but my words are about others or even words by others for that matter. I feel unheard most of the time but that's ok. I also don't think anything will survive after my death. I will simply be forgotten and my words, too. Yet, that's a destiny most of us share. It's the human condition. "

Severus looked in reflection to the starry roof of my room and after some moments said: "Indeed. but you will be remembered for being a wonderful and intelligent person. I can assure you, your words will one day find the way to the people's hearts and minds. My words will mostly be stuck in someone's nightmares, which, I guess, is more than many get." We looked at each other and I saw some sorrow in his deep and black eyes. I felt the same. Yet, I think in that moment we both gave each other some comfort.

Late in the night he made his leave. I accompanied him outside the Raven tower while he was carrying a small pile of selected books.

“Thank you for the tea, the stimulating discussions and the new reading material.. Have a good night.”

“Thank you for coming! It was really.. nice. I hope we can do that again, sometime.”

He smiled softly and returned to the Slytherin dungeons, robes wooshing and his head up high.

[kivaember]

Mor Dhona 99 Ch. 5

So, since tumblr is doing the whole ‘not showing links in the tab’ i’ll be posting my fic chapters wholesale on here. If you want to read on AO3 to leave a kudos or comment there, just follow the link to my AO3 profile on my tumblr, and you’ll find the fic updated there! 

But anyways, enjoy the fic!

Title: Mor Dhona 99 Fic Summary:  A series of oneshots following a new arrival to Eorzea's Public Relations and Animal Control Unit: Aza Lynel, renowned for outstanding service on keeping the peace on the Azim Steppes. He's dealt with monster nests, squabbling tribes and sharing the same house as his sister. Now, he's been transferred to the big city in Mor Dhona - with the realisation that werewolves have it a little more difficult here, than out on the Steppes back home... Chapter Title: The Wolfsbane Case Part 1 Chapter Summary: Aza and Estinien get called up to a farm called the Fogfens on a missing person case that just so happens to be a werewolf who didn’t come home after the full moon. It results in a whole can of dirty worms being dug up...

Estinien being visibly excited was the creepiest thing Aza had ever witnessed.

It didn’t help that they were both crammed in a police car, bouncing and bumping along a narrow, neglected country road towards one of the farms lay on the outskirts of the Gridanian border. Aza actually had to wear his uniform, rather than his biking leathers, and it made him feel deeply uncomfortable and exposed. It was nothing but cheap synthetic cotton, not thick, sturdy leather. A massive oversight on the uniform of a unit that regularly apprehended or fought dangerous monsters and magical creatures.

“I hate that you’re smiling,” Aza said when their vehicle squeaked through a near ninety-degree bend, the scratching of low hanging branches scraping across the roof making him cringe, “It’s freaking me out.”

“We’re finally doing something fun,” Estinien said, checking his sat nav to make sure they were still on the right route, “An actual investigation with promise of an arrest at the end.”

“You arrested someone two days ago,” Aza grumbled, “A shoplifter.”

“Yes, because that was incredibly exciting,” Estinien scoffed, “A bewildered Sylph that didn’t understand the concept of money. Technically, they traded vegetables for their items anyway, so it wasn’t even thieving.”

Right. The ‘Beast Tribes’, as they were derogatorily known as, still lived separate from Eorzean society. Occasionally you had a handful that lived in places like Limsa Lominsa, or Mor Dhona, but in the rest of the city states they were very unwelcome. Aza thought it a shame. They were interesting and knew very obscure and odd magics that most modern mages and witches had forgotten.

“What happened with that anyways?” Aza asked curiously. It was one of the rare times their role as Animal Control/Public Relations overlapped with the Constabulary, and the law tended to get very fuzzy and complicated when misunderstandings with Beast Tribes happened.

“The Adders stuck their noses into it, and I let them have it,” Estinien said, “What do I care about some Sylph? They didn’t harm anyone, so the Adders bailed them.”

Aza leaned back in his seat with a wry huff. He could always count of Estinien being equally dismissive of everyone, no matter their race, species or magical creature status. He didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing, considering Estinien’s job, but it was pleasantly refreshing at times.

“This might not have an arrest,” Aza warned, grunting when their car drove into a ford – there was a concrete bridge, but the waters had swelled enough to come rushing over the surface by a few ilms. White, foamy water splashed everywhere, “It might just be a waste of time.”

“Missing Persons are never a waste of time.”

Aza sighed, but slouched further in his seat. Truth be told, he wasn’t looking forward to this assignment for multiple reasons.

It was a simple one on the surface: it was two days after the last full moon of this month – something Aza was still feeling in his aching joints and stiff muscles – and the owner of Fogfens Farm, Blysslona Doesraelwyn, had filed a Missing Persons report for her son, Alyrloef, who was also a werewolf. Her son was reasonably mild-mannered during full moon, albeit not in full grasp of his mental faculties, but he was registered as a low threat to livestock and people if stumbled across in wolf-form, meaning he wasn’t required to be sedated or restrained. Blysslona, therefore, allowed Alyrloef to roam about her private lands, helping keep lookout for any feral werewolves that might try to steal livestock. He was normally gone for the full three days but came crawling back after the last full moon… except this time.

Aza, personally, had a bad feeling about it. Werewolves were unfailingly loyal, especially with those they deemed family, so it wasn’t as if Alyrloef would just fuck off for no good reason. The monster populations out in the sticks like this were dangerously high too, so it was highly likely that Alyrloef was dead. Killed by a monster, or a feral werewolf, a hunter or even another farmer by accident. It made his stomach knot up painfully at thinking of finding a corpse and having to present it to the poor boy’s mother.

“You’ve been in a right snit since Aymeric gave us this job,” Estinien finally asked when the silence turned a bit awkward between them, “What’s wrong?”

“Do you actually care?”

“I care if you’re going to be sulky for the whole bloody day.”

Aza groaned, but muttered, “He’s probably gonna be dead.”

“Rather pessimistic,” Estinien drawled, but he didn’t disagree, “Then we’ll offer closure to her. Either way, some sort of foul play has happened, and someone is at fault for it. It’s more exciting than chasing off ogres from Saint Coinach’s Find for the thirtieth fucking time.”

“Exciting’s not the word I’d use…” Aza sighed, but he said no more on the matter. This was why he preferred simple animal control than dealing with people. In fact, this wasn’t even his gig, but Aymeric thought Aza’s werewolf nature would make finding another werewolf easier – which was true, but still.

The bad feeling persisted.

---

Blysslona was a tall, stocky Roegadyn woman in her late forties. Her skin was a pale blue, dusted with navy freckles, and her hair was a thick, dark brown that she had scraped into a tight, no-nonsense bun. She looked rather weathered for her age, probably from working under the sun for hours on end, but her face was warm and welcoming enough when they turned up on her doorstep just before noon.

“You found the place alright, then,” Blysslona said, letting them inside her modest homestead. It was an old building, probably listed, with stone walls and a still thatched roof, held with a very thin metal mesh. It was warm inside though, a wood burner installed in the open fireplace of the living room practically spewing heat throughout the small cottage. Aza and Estinien were bustled onto the squashy sofa, and Blysslona excused herself to grab some tea for them, despite their protests. She was like a tornado of aggressive politeness, and all they could do was be helplessly swept up in it.

“Alyrloef is in a lot of these photos,” Estinien commented as they heard Blysslona bustle loudly in presumably the kitchen. He tilted his head to one large photograph, framed and fitted above the fireplace – a large, strapping Roegadyn lad with a strong resemblance to Blysslona in a Maelstrom uniform, with his name and date of service etched at the bottom. Five years in the Limsan Lominsan navy, left sometime last year.

“His scent is everywhere,” Aza agreed. The lingering smell of a foreign werewolf itched his senses, but he easily ignored it. Clearly, on the surface at least, Alyrloef lived here comfortably with his mother, though he was curious why he had left the Maelstrom to move in with his mother on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Vylbrand was far from here too, so odd…

“Here we are,” Blysslona said, marching in with a tray of teacups and a plate of biscuits. She set them on the coffee table before them and eased into an armchair opposite them. She was smiling, but Aza could see a tightness about her mouth, dark smudges under her eyes that spoke of restless sleep. She smelled stressed too, even though she put up a brave face about it.

“Thank you,” Aza said, because Estinien couldn’t be trusted to be polite. There a brief pause where they took their respective tea cups and tried to figure out a tactful way to begin the not-interrogation. Blysslona was the last person to see Alyrloef, so…

“So,” Blysslona broke the silence, “I guess you’ll be wanting to ask questions?”

Aza felt deeply relieved at her breaking the ice, and Estinien took lead in the conversation from here.

“We’ve read the details in the missing person report you submitted,” Estinien said, “But it’s best we go over the information with you, to ensure everything is correct, or if you have remembered something since then…”

Aza leaned back in his seat, observing as Estinien mildly grilled Blysslona. When did you last see your son? How was he during that time? Has he ever expressed interest in travelling? Was he happy here? Did he have any known enemies? Any disputes or disagreements with anyone? Anyone threaten him recently? Neighbouring farmers knew to recognise him in wolf form? Etcetera, etcetera.

Nothing new was shed. Blysslona said she last saw him before the first full moon and knew she wouldn’t see him until the end of the last one so hadn’t been worried about his disappearance initially. She didn’t know where he went during the days, but over the past year he always came back, so she never thought much about it. Alyrloef was friendly, well known to her fellow farmers and appreciated, as he guarded the livestock here from monsters and feral werewolves during the full moon. He was happy here, ever since quitting the Limsan navy, and had expressed interest in inheriting the farm when Blysslona got too old to mange it herself.

Aza mulled over this.

“Did he ever say why he quit the navy?” he asked curiously, something about that nagging him.

Blysslona looked surprised at the question, “Oh, well, he said it weren’t for him. They’re very accepting of werewolves in Vylbrand, but even then, they don’t have many career options because of the full moon, you see. So, he quit and came back here.”

Interesting. The Limsan Navy was very progressive and open to working around the lunar cycle for werewolves, provided they were controllable and mild like Alyrloef were. He might not have had a clear shot at, say, an admiralty like a normal person would have, but he still had a good chance of at least commanding a ship if he excelled in his job – with some limitations to ensure safety, of course.

“One more thing,” he continued, “The three days he’s gone for the full moon, you genuinely don’t know where he goes?”

“No clue,” Blysslona insisted, “I thought he just went and slept in the woods somewhere, like wolves do.”

Unlikely. Any werewolf during the days of their full moon wouldn’t pass up a chance to crawl into a warm, comfortable bed and be fussed over by family. You felt ill, achy and rotten when you shifted back during the day, the body strained and burnt out from the effort of shifting forms in such an unnatural way. Alyrloef had to go somewhere to wait out the days, because lying out in the woods in a weakened state would just make him monster food.

But that begged the question: why did he go elsewhere, and why didn’t he tell his mother? It was a mystery that piqued his interest.

“We’ll look at his room – if you don’t mind,” Estinien added belatedly, “See if we can turn up any clues there. We will then examine the immediate surroundings. Depending on what we find, we might have to bring up a full search team up here.”

“Knock yourself out,” Blysslona said, “So long as you find my boy, I don’t care if you rip up the floorboards and turn everything out of my house for clues.”

So, with that strong approval, Estinien and Aza took their tea and wandered over to Alyrloef’s room. It was small, large enough for a bed, wardrobe and two dressers. The curtains were open, letting them see the small garden brimming with all kinds of herbs and flowers. There were Limsan Navy paraphernalia hanging on walls, odd, foreign knickknacks on his shelves and dresser tops… it smelled very lived in, even if the man hadn’t visited it in almost a week. Nothing stood out as suspicious, and if anything, looked as if Alyrloef had fully intended to come back.

“What’re you thinking?” Estinien asked him where they stared at his room for a good, long moment, as if expecting Alyrloef to leap out from under the bed.

Aza didn’t immediately reply, because he could smell… something sharp. It almost stung his nose, and he turned, slowly, towards the bedside dresser with a frown. Setting his tea aside on the dresser, and ignoring Estinien’s inquiring noise, he pulled the drawer open – sitting at the bottom of it, wrapped up in thing clingfilm, were the purple flowers of aconitum.

Or, better known as wolfsbane.

“Oh, hello…” Aza mumbled, studying the plant for a long moment before gingerly picking it up by the clingfilm, taking care not to touch it. He’d rather not be rushed to hospital today, “Why does he have this?”

“Wolfsbane?” Estinien loomed over his shoulder to get a good look, “Self-medicating, perhaps?”

“Hmm…” Aza set the plant down on the dresser and dug into the drawer again. He found two more clingfilmed bunches of wolfsbane, as well as a large pot of activated charcoal. Aza wasn’t confused as to how he got these – farmers used activated charcoal as pesticides and disinfectant, and wolfsbane grew thick and fast around the Fogfens due to its proximity to the Tangle, a wet marshland where most of the moisture drained into. It would be easy enough for Alyrloef to gather these, but why?

Wolfsbane was poisonous to everyone, full stop. Normal people would die without medical intervention if they ingested it, but the effect was a little different with werewolves. If applied correctly, wolfsbane could actually delay the transformation, or ensure the wolf was so sluggish and weak that they weren’t a threat to anyone. The sedatives the government issued contained wolfsbane, for example. It was like, a medically approved poisoning that left you with a thumping headache and weeklong diarrhoea but was reasonably safe.

However, you had to fit a specific criterion to be freely given those sedatives and purchasing them outright was obscenely expensive – more expensive than a farmer can afford anyways. So, you ended up with some who wanted the safety of a sedative, but too poor to pay for pills, self-medicating instead. Sometimes it worked, sometimes the werewolf died, but also…

“He doesn’t need to self-medicate,” Aza said slowly, “His file says his wolf form is calm enough without needing sedatives.”

“But maybe he thinks he needs them.”

Aza bit his thumbnail, thinking. Yeah, probably. Something could have happened that made him doubt his control, but surely Blysslona would have mentioned it? Or… maybe not. Eorzea was very strict on werewolves that ‘acted out’, which was… understandable, considering they were superhumanly strong and could easily kill or infect a man with a single bite. Any sign of a violent temperament in wolf form would have their freedoms restricted in a heartbeat to ensure public safety.

It was chafing, but Aza understood such caution. It didn’t mean he liked it.

“Let’s take a look outside,” Estinien said, nudging his shoulder, “Come on, K-9.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Aza huffed, but he obediently followed him out of the bedroom, leaving the wolfsbane behind.

---

Outside was thick with the stink of farm, and it took Aza a good hour before he found Alyrloef’s scent on the very outskirt of a pasture, on an animal trail leading into one of the thick woods that surrounded Fogfens Farm.

“We can follow it for a bit now,” Aza said as they dithered on the edge of the woods, “The scent is a few days old, so I don’t want to leave it any longer before it vanishes completely. It’s meant to rain tonight, after all.”

Estinien said nothing for a moment, clearly thinking it over. The Fogfens had a high density of dangerous monsters – wildlife kept at bay only by the electric fences and ‘anti-monster crystals’ that marked out the inhabited boundaries of the farms. Aza was confident he could deal with anything out here, even in Miqo’te form, but Estinien was a little squishier and lightly armed.

“We’ll follow it for a bit,” Estinien decided, patting his hip to ensure his firearm was there, “I’m not geared up for a proper fight, though, so we’ll… ugh, be cautious.”

Aza coughed over a laugh at Estinien’s open disdain, and they trudged into the wood along the animal path. Alyrloef’s scent was faint, masked by rotting vegetation and blooming flowers, but Aza kept on it, noting that the woods got quieter and quieter the deeper they went, until it became ominously still and silent.

So, Aza stopped.

“Something wrong?” Estinien immediately asked, looking a bit tense himself. He must have picked up on the unnatural silence too.

“Yes,” Aza said slowly, staring at a fallen long lying next to the narrow path. The trees crowded in thick, its dark green canopy sheltering them from the afternoon sun, as stinging nettles and stubborn ferns overgrew the animal trail at their feet. The overhead leaves cast everything into a dark shadow, making it difficult to see more than ten fulms into the woods – which was fine, Aza wasn’t afraid of dark woods, but the silence…

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and a primal instinct reared its head and growled.

“It’s very quiet,” Aza murmured, turning his head this way and that, his nostrils flaring as he took in the surrounding smells. Wet, earthy, rotting… a very faint undercurrent of decay. He assumed it was vegetation, but- no, there was something wrong with it. The silence was downright oppressive now – blanketing everything until his ears almost rang with it. No birdsong, no chattering animal calls, no distant howls of monsters. Nothing.

Alyrloef’s scent was still here, though. Faint.

Aza turned away.

“Let’s go back,” he said in a no-nonsense tone, “Now.”

For once, Estinien decided not to be contrary. He took one look at whatever expression Aza was making and nodded sharply, one hand lingering on his firearm as they quickly backtracked. As they walked, life returned to the woods the further away they went from that dead spot, tentative at first, then more natural. It was warmer too, and Aza belatedly realised that it had been freezing in that too quiet place, biting cold and intensely pressured.

Neither of them spoke until they were on the outskirts of the wood, able to see Blysslona’s cottage with smoke coming out of its chimney, and then lingered on the boundary, warily eyeing the woods behind them with open caution now.

“That was fucked up,” Estinien said mildly, his mouth pinched as he stared back into the trees with his shoulders tensed, “What the hell was that?”

“No idea, but I didn’t like it,” Aza muttered, rubbing his cold hands together, “Alyrloef’s scent led there, though, to… whatever that dead spot was.”

“Okay,” Estinien pinched the bridge of his nose, took in a breath, and let it out, “Shit. This is going to involve Voidsent, isn’t it?”

Aza didn’t say anything. The hairs on the back of his neck were still prickling, like they brought back whatever had been in the dead spot with them. He looked about them, keenly feeling the aether about him, but it was brimming with life and was untouched and pristine. They must’ve caught the attention of what was whatever in those woods though.

“Are there any stories about the Fogfens?” Aza finally asked, “Horror stories or anything?”  

“Just the usual rubbish,” Estinien replied, “There are one or two horror films based on the Fogfens, about some crazed slasher running around terrorising university students camping in there, or something.”

Aza gave Estinien an odd look, wondering why the hell students would go camping in a monster-infested wood. Eorzeans were so weird.  

“Are they based on true stories?”

“They’re based on some idiot getting eaten by a roaming Behemoth or feral werewolves because they thought it’d be a brilliant idea to hike through the woods without even a firearm,” Estinien said shortly, “Happens every year.”

“I see,” Aza frowned, wondering if it really was death by wildlife, or death by Voidsent that made it look like wildlife, “I’m gonna call Aym, see what he has to say about this.”

“Oh, it’s Aym now, is it?” Estinien mocked lightly, but he trudged after Aza as they made their way back to Blysslona’s cottage.

As they walked, Aza mulled over everything. First was Alyrloef and his suspicious circumstances. A werewolf that was low-threat, self-medicating himself with wolfsbane in a dangerous manner, and who also vanished for the entirety of the full moon without telling anyone where he’d be. Then there was the dead spot in the woods, that just made his skin crawl remembering it, and Alyrloef’s scent leading straight to it. If he was in werewolf form, he couldn’t have just bumbled into it. Instincts were sharp then, overwhelming, and everything about that dead spot screamed wrong. No self-respecting werewolf would willingly walk into it.

…

Unless that wolf was very sick, poisoned in fact, and their senses dulled and sluggish…

It was as if Aza had the pieces in his hands, but they wouldn’t fully connect as he tried to understand this whole situation. There were too many questions – why was Alyrloef self-medicating? Where the fuck did he go on full moons? What the hell was that dead spot? Had it always been there? And if it was a Voidsent…

Fuck. He really hoped it wasn’t a Voidsent.

They both piled into their car parked outside Blysslona’s cottage when they reached it, and Estinien turned the heater on full blast when they got in. It helped banish the unnatural chill that lingered over them from their, in retrospect, ill-advised romp through the clearly haunted woods.

“I bet the farm woman knows about it,” Estinien said abruptly as Aza activated his linkpearl.

“What, the haunted woods?” Aza muttered, half-listening as he connected a call to Aymeric.  

“If this was a horror film,” Estinien said, “She would be involved in some way. The killer, or the Voidsent herself, or something.”

Aza rolled his eyes and didn’t bother dignifying that with a response.

“… Aymeric de Borel speaking.”

“Hey, Aym, it’s me,” Aza greeted, “You got a free moment?”

“Not really, but I’ll take any excuse to procrastinate from my castle of paperwork,” Aymeric said dryly, “Do you need something?”

“Kinda. Some spooky shit is happening up here, and…”

Aza relayed everything he and Estinien had learned and experienced, with Estinien occasionally interjecting a comment here and there. By then the car had became sweltering, so Aza flicked off the heater and cranked the window, the noise of livestock filtering through the gap. Overhead, dark, greyish clouds started to gather.

“I see…” Aymeric sounded troubled, “Voidsent require a specialist to deal with. They don’t fall under Public Relations or Animal Control for a lot of reasons.”

“We’ll have to call in the Thaumaturges,” Estinien grumbled, sounding beyond sour about this, “To examine the dead spot, at least. We can’t fully investigate Alyrloef’s disappearance until we’re sure that a Voidsent won’t try to crawl up our asses during it.”

“Thaumaturges?” Aza parroted, “Who’re they?”

“The creepy Lalafels on floor five that take Goth way too far.”

Oh. Them.

“I’ll lodge a request for Cocobuki to go up to Fogfens at the earliest opportunity,” Aymeric said, “Though, that might take a few days to process…”

Which didn’t bode well for Alyrloef’s already dangerously slim chances of being found alive or sound of mind, “Isn’t there an emergency Voidsent response team or something?”

“The Thaumaturges are already stretched thin themselves,” Aymeric sighed, “Considering this Voidsent is dwelling deep in the woods that has no civilian foot traffic, they would deem it low priority.”

“And the missing person?” Estinien asked mildly.

“Has been missing for several days already,” Aymeric sounded almost apologetic now, “You know how they would view it.”

Aza frowned but said nothing, an almost tense silence falling between them. Yeah, no doubt the Thaumaturges would go in under the assumption that they would be searching for a corpse, rather than a living person, and bodies could keep for a bit. It was a very bitter pill to swallow, and despite Aza understanding the reasoning of it all… he wasn’t happy with it.

“Guess it’s back to base,” Estinien said, sounding very put-out that the day had ended on an anti-climactic note, “Can’t do anything until Cocobuki gets his ass out here to take a look.”

“Right,” Aza mumbled.

“I’ll try to inject some urgency into the request,” Aymeric said quietly, “Cocobuki owes me a favour, so we’ll see how it goes.”

“Thanks, Aym,” Aza said, and after a round of goodbyes disconnected the call. He slumped in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. That bad feeling was still lingering but, there was nothing he could do now, was there? If this was back home, on the Steppe, a whole bunch of him and his mates would already be charging into the woods to beat the shit out of the Voidsent, but Eorzea was so tangled up in procedure and red tape that it throttled any attempt to do good.

If Aza hadn’t been a werewolf, he might’ve tried to be a loose cannon, do his own thing like Estinien did from time to time. But he was a werewolf, and that meant try as he might, he had to stick with procedure no matter how stifling. Aymeric and Estinien could only protect him so much, and that was when he stayed in his lane.

“I’ll tell the farm woman we have to bring in a specialised team,” Estinien cut into the silence. His voice was gruff, but the offer was oddly kind, “You can drive back.”

“Oh, yay,” Aza said dully, but was internally relieved. He didn’t want to go to Blysslona and break the news that her son might potentially most definitely be dead or in the thrall of a Voidsent. He was a bit of a coward like that, “Fine. Hurry back.”

Estinien grunted but shoved his way out of the vehicle. Aza clambered over the gearbox to sit in the driver’s side, and muttered as he had to adjust the seat so his feet could even reach the pedals. He technically knew how to drive a vehicle, but last time he did was for his driving test last year, in preparation for this job in Eorzea, but, eh, it’ll be fine, he’s sure.

He glanced out of the window, his ear twitching when a few fat drops of water started hitting the windscreen. Here came the rain, and with it, the disappearance of Alyrloef’s scent.

Aza could still vaguely see the treeline of the woods from the car – nothing more than a dark, looming shape beyond the farm’s fence. It looked innocuous, but now that his instincts were attuned to it, there was a pulse of threat emanating from it, something that made him tighten his fingers on the steering wheel and his inner wolf bare its fangs.

Yet, for a moment – his gaze sharpened when he saw sudden movement at the treeline, too big to be a deer. It looked like, was that a werewol-

He almost leapt right out of his seat when the passenger door was wrenched open, and Estinien tumbled back in cussing and blinding. Aza looked away, to see his co-worker get hilariously stuck when he tried to wedge his legs under the dashboard but couldn’t because Aza had the seat draw up close to it.

“What the- you damn midget,” Estinien hissed, contorting into a weird posture as he tried to grab the seat adjuster.

“Heh,” Aza shamelessly sniggered at him, not moving to help in the slightest, “Looking a bit uncomfortable there, Esty.”

“Fuck you.”

Leaving Estinien be as the man finally managed to wrench his seat back enough to properly sit in it, and finally close the door against the wind, Aza glanced back over towards the treeline. The thing he thought he saw was no longer there, and it was just a simple, dark woods once more.

Aza shook it off and turned the engine on.

“Back to base?” he asked lightly.

“Back home, more like,” Estinien grumbled, buckling his seatbelt and leaning back, “Wake me up when we get there.”

“Aye, aye,” Aza muttered, but he put the car in reverse and started the slow, shaky journey back home.

---

And from the dark treeline, nestling in the cold shadows of its low hanging leaves, a large wolf watched them go.

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“Wizards” AU fic: Chapter Five

The table had been set, the tea and pastries had been prepared-all that was left to do was wait for Sean to arrive. Princess Emilia paced back and forth through her quarters, anxious with anticipation. Her heart was beating rapidly with both fear and excitement as she inhaled and exhaled to try and calm herself down.

“Everything’s going to be alright.” she told herself. “What are you so worried about?” Her thoughts were then interrupted by a knock on her door. Opening it, she saw two of the king’s assistants before her.

“Princess Emilia, his royal highness Prince Sean has just arrived to see you.” they announced, bowing and stepping aside to reveal him standing in the doorway.

“Good evening, your highness.” he politely greeted, giving a bow.

“Sean, you don’t need to bow every time we meet up,” the princess giggled, “but I appreciate it anyway.” She smiled and curtsied back to him. “Come in, the tea’s ready.” Holding out her hand, Sean took it, and the two stepped into the bedroom together.

“I thought we’d eat here tonight, so I asked the servants to arrange a table for us.” she explained. “Now we can have some privacy.” The prince nodded, and pulled one of the chairs out, allowing Emilia to sit down first. She thanked him, and Sean took his seat opposite her, blushing slightly.

“I’m so happy you were able to make it.” Emilia said, dropping a few lumps of sugar and pouring a tiny saucer of milk into her teacup. “I was a little worried that you’d be too busy tonight.”

“To be honest, I was a little worried as well, but I’m glad that my mother allowed me to go.” Sean admitted. “I-I wanted to see you again...and I really like being with you, too.”

“I feel the same way.” the princess grinned, her cheeks as pink as posies. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t really plan this from the start.”

“What do you mean?” Sean asked, pausing from gently blowing on his tea to cool it down.

“Well, earlier today, I was helping Gerda and Greta with picking berries for the spring festival, when I saw you nearby.” she started to explain. “All of a sudden, they just flew off to find you, right then and there, and bring you to me!” At the time, she had been embarrassed by the whole ordeal, but now, she saw the funny side to it all and burst out into laughter. This caused Sean to start laughing, too, for now he understood what had happened. “I never had anything to say to you-I think they just wanted to set us up!”

Together, the two talked and laughed into the evening, each drinking and eating their share of chamomile tea and scrumptious cookies, scones, and crumpets. Once they had finished, Emilia stood up, taking Sean’s hand in hers.

“Come with me. I want to show you something.” she told him. The prince was a little confused, but he still went along with her, curious to see what she was talking about. She led him out the door, through the halls, and out the tree, down into the forest glen where they stopped at a patch of tall grass.

“What I’m about to show you,” Emilia began in a low voice, “is something that I’ve never shown anyone else before. Nobody knows about this place, not even my father. This is only between you and me, and I’d like to keep it that way for now.”

Sean nodded in understanding as she pulled aside the blades of grass. There, laying before their eyes, was a little hideaway growing with soft, green moss, leafy lichen, and tiny little blossoms. In the center, there was a small sort of waterfall fashioned of stones, with a steady stream of water trickling down into a pond below. Emilia led Sean through the grass as they admired the serene and peaceful area.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she remarked.

“Indeed.” the prince agreed, still in awe over such a lovely sight.

“Sometimes, I come here when I need to relax or take my mind off of things.” she added, sitting down besides the pond, watching the reflection of the moonlight upon its gentle surface. “Mostly, I come here to think...about the past, the future...what my future holds…”

Sean sat down next to Emilia as she continued. “My father told me stories about what this world was like long ago...about how it was filled with such wonderful things, but dark and dangerous things as well. Eventually, the darkness overshadowed the light, and people forgot what was most important to themselves and to others.”

Sean fully understood what Emilia was talking about. His mother had also taught him about Earth’s history, from the birth of civilization to its eventual destruction.

“I think about the past, and I wonder...what will our future be? Will we find happier times, or will the cycle continue yet again, with our kingdom in ruins?”

“Well, I think…” Sean began to say, “...what happened in the past is something that I believe we shouldn’t forget, but we shouldn’t dwell on it, either. We all make mistakes, but they help us learn from them and work to become better people. Hopefully, the future will be a better one, and we can live together in peace.”

Hearing Sean’s words, Emilia smiled contentedly. His knowledge and purity were traits to be admired, and she knew that he would be a great king someday. This reminded her once again of her future, and how she would eventually be wed to him and rule over the kingdom together.

“Sean?” she asked. “What do you think my future holds? I hope I can be a good ruler for our people…”

“I hope I can, too.” he remarked. “With you by my side, I-I don’t feel so afraid, though.”

“Neither do I…” Emilia responded, her cheeks feeling warm. “I feel...safe.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, and then, purely following their instincts, started to lean in closer.

“Emilia! It’s almost past your curfew!” a voice suddenly cried out, abruptly bringing the two back to their senses and reality. The princess instantly recognized who it was.

“Coming, father!” she called back. She then turned to Sean again, standing up with him and leaving the hideaway. “I’m afraid I must be going now, but thank you for coming to visit. I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I.” Sean acknowledged. Emilia then embraced him in her arms. The prince held her close, taking in the sweet aroma of fresh, warm cinnamon buns. All of the fairies had this scent, including himself, but he felt it was especially prominent-and all around nicer-when she was near. At last, they let go.

“Goodbye, Sean. See you soon.”

“You too.”

At that moment, Emilia closed her eyes and quickly kissed his cheek. She then zipped back to the oak tree, catching a glimpse of a very surprised Sean, blushing as red as a ripe strawberry. After standing there in silence, trying to process what had just happened, a wide grin started to spread across his face as he put a hand to his cheek.

“Golly!”