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helvegen-s · 11 hours

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Rage, rage | five

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: nothing that I can think of, just some fluff and nimue and azriel bantering

Two days had passed since Nimue had been there, in that house, in that city.

She spent the day inside her room, in silence, talking to herself or to The Voice, when that entity deigned to honor her with its presence. She wondered how it was able to overcome the magical guards that surrounded the entire house, how it got there without alerting Rhysand or any of the others.

Food simply materialized on a small desk in the room assigned to her. Clothing too.

Sometimes she heard the others talking through the walls: she heard them gathered in the living room discussing strategies or plans; she heard Feyre crying at night, lamenting the fate of her sisters and the guilt that consumed her; she heard Cassian and the blonde female, Morrigan, talking in the living room about trivial matters.

What she didn't hear was that dull noise on the other side of the bond. She hadn't heard the voice or the steps of this Azriel fellow. She hadn't smelled his scent, of cedar and mist, the same scent she had smelled on the dead spies her father had sent to Prythian.

In her head, she had begun to imagine stories about each of them. Her own observant nature had told her that Cassian must be some kind of warrior, a commander or general in Rhysand's army; Morrigan, on the other hand, must be involved in politics, as her contributions in those small meetings she heard on the other side of the house were purely rational and theoretical observations, worthy of a brilliant mind; Azriel, she assumed, would be a spy, hence that distinctive aura surrounding him, and the fact that her father's dead spies were imbued in his scent and that of his pretty dagger.

She spends her days like this, locked in with her own thoughts.

Until the third day, when someone knocks on her door. Sitting in a small armchair, Nimue simply waits for whoever it is to decide to come in: it's not her house, she has no right to prohibit anyone from entering.

When the door opens, the petite figure of Feyre slips into the room, closing the door behind her. They both look at each other, in silence, Feyre standing by the door and Nimue sitting in front of her.

Nimue knows she has nothing to say, however, Feyre seems to be struggling to find the right words.

"You're not our prisoner, you know that, right?" Nimue nods, but says nothing more. "You're free to roam the house, go out, and do whatever you do in your free time. We're not your jailers."

"I know, this is what I do in my free time," and with her hand, she simply gestures around, towards nothing. Because that's what she does in her free time: nothing. It's either train or wait for something to happen, nothing more. "I've considered it would be best to stay here. My presence is not welcomed in this house, and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I know it's not a good time."

Nimue didn't want to tell her that she heard her cry at night, but nevertheless, Feyre's gaze was filled with understanding.

"It's not a good time, you're right, but you've helped us to make it not even worse. Don't judge them by how they treat you, they're a bit short-sighted. That's what happens when you've been living the same life for five hundred years," a small laugh escaped Feyre's lips, and Nimue couldn't help but smile herself. There was something about that woman that softened her heart, like Ferlan, the old cook who told her stories. "They'll accept you, sooner or later. Give them time."

Feyre directed her a smile so warm and friendly that for a moment, Nimue felt breathless.

How sad it was, to shrink in her place at such a small act of kindness, because in her life she had never known such a thing.

Nimue nodded, trying to return the woman's smile.

"Come with me."

She was surprised, but she obeyed and stood up. The brunette woman walked through the halls of the house, with Nimue trailing behind. She pointed out each room; to the right, a beautiful office; to the left, a smaller second living room; downstairs the kitchen and the living room where she had already been, and a little further down the hall, a huge library.

Nimue couldn't wipe the constant look of amazement off her face: yes, she had seen libraries, offices, kitchens, living rooms. But nowhere had she felt that warmth emanating from the walls, that sweet smell, a mixture of all the scents of those who inhabited it.

She felt Feyre's eyes on her, with an amused expression on her face.

"You have the same look as a child who has tried candies for the first time."

Nimue frowned, tearing her gaze away from the shelves full of books to look at the brunette, puzzled.

"What is a candies?"

Feyre placed a hand on her chest, letting out a small cry of indignation. With her hands outstretched, she loudly asked for some candy and they immediately materialized in her palms.

Nimue looked at them as if she were looking at a six-legged horse: balls of all colors, with shiny wrappers and all kinds of scents. She took one and opened it, imitating Feyre, who popped one into her mouth without hesitation.

When the princess put it in her mouth, she could swear she had never tasted anything so delicious in her life. Yes, the food at her Palace was good, but that... That was a whole new world.

As she savored it and let it roll around in her mouth, she reached out her hands into the air.

"More," she said aloud. Feyre let out a genuine laugh that, once again, softened her heart. "More, please. I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life, I want more."

Candies began to sprout from the palms of her own hands, overflowing and falling to the ground. Before she knew it, a small pile of candies and many more things had formed at her feet: there were lollipops, spiral-shaped candies, candy canes. There were even small buns appearing at her feet and in her hands.

Feyre couldn't stop laughing. The innocence and naturalness of the princess had fallen upon her like sunlight, after being immersed in her own shadows for the past few days.

"The house really likes you, it's not willing to please everyone like this."

"I know," said Nimue, "sometimes I feel like it's trying to talk to me. It's such ancient magic, it must be a very special spirit."

A last and enormous bun appeared in her hands, as if the house itself were appreciating Nimue's acknowledgment.

She looked up at Feyre, with a silly smile she couldn't wipe off her face. It even hurt her face, as she couldn't remember if she had ever smiled so much in her life.

"Come, let's go outside."

Feyre took her hand, and while Nimue took one last bite of the bun, they left behind that small pile of sweets. She glanced back, and in a low voice, she thanked the house again.

Before she knew it, Feyre had pushed her out into the same courtyard where they had landed days ago, just after escaping from Hybern.

The sun was high in the sky, and Nimue had to squint to see anything. She found herself in the same situation as three days ago, completely overwhelmed by the light, the sounds, the smells, the vastness of the sky above her.

She took in as much air as her lungs would allow, and allowed herself to enjoy it all: the blue sky, the cool breeze coming from the mountains, the smell of the sea and salt that reminded her so much of home, when the sea breeze would sneak through her windows.

Twenty years locked away. And now, she felt that not even a whole lifetime would be enough to see it all, to feel it all.

She still held Feyre's hand, who couldn't stop watching her by her side.

"I believe you. I see in you a scared child who has managed to escape the clutches of an evil man," she said, carefully and in a low voice. Nimue felt a breath of fresh air, which tangled in her hair and danced around her face. "I choose to trust you because I see goodness and light in you, fighting to do something good."

Nimue brought a hand to her face: she found that, once again, she was crying.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, for your trust. I understand what it's like to be in your place, I would also be suspicious of me. But I will prove to you that I can be useful to win this war."

Feyre nodded and smiled.

"I hope you'll be useful to us for much more than just the war."

And then Nimue felt it.

After three days of dead silence, something in her chest began to vibrate again.

She looked up at the sky to see two winged shadows approaching them. Instinctively, she covered Feyre with her body, prepared for anything.

Azriel and Cassian landed carefully on the courtyard, under Nimue's watchful gaze. Those wings were something impressive.

"What are you doing here alone with her, Feyre?" Azriel asked. He walked threateningly towards the two females, and Nimue felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, like a cat ready to attack. "It's not safe, she should be under surveillance."

"Azriel-"

"I'm right here, don't talk about me like a dog," Nimue interrupted, taking a step forward. Azriel was tall, yes, but so was she. Face to face, she didn't feel the least bit intimidated by him, and she even realized how surprised the male was by the indifference she felt towards his intimidation. Nimue smiled. "That thing of spreading your wings like a bird and seeming bigger might work with others, not with me."

She didn't know what prompted her to act like that with the winged male. Perhaps it was his anger, which through the bond infected her with that anger and rage that left her seeing red.

Azriel growled.

"Give me one reason to trust you. Then, I'll let you roam freely around my house and my city."

"I saved your life. Shall I remind you?" Nimue takes another step forward, getting so close to him that she can see the tiny specks of dark brown in his amber eyes. "If I hadn't taken you out of there, who knows what my father would have done to you. I also remind you that it was me who pulled the arrow out of your chest without poisoning you."

"But something tells me you're doing that to win our favor and trust. Who says you're not a spy for your father? Only a fool would trust you."

"Hey, I trust her," Feyre says. She and Cassian look at each other, not knowing what to do.

They don't fully understand the situation either. Azriel had always been cautious and foresighted, slow to trust people and always suspicious of others' intentions. However, there was something about Nimue... They couldn't quite put their finger on it, but it was a kind of blind trust.

Azriel ignores Feyre and continues accusing and accusing.

"What I really can't wrap my head around is how we've never known anything about you. My spies have been in the Court of the King of Hybern for years and I've never heard a whisper about a princess. If you're so powerful and important, explain to me how not a single person on the other side of the sea knows of your existence."

"Maybe you're not as good at your job as you claim to be."

Azriel feels like he's about to explode, now more than ever.

He has to fight against all his impulses not to kill her on the spot. But at the same time, there's something in him that dies just imagining her bleeding.

His own mind contradicts him, and he feels like he's going to split in two. So before any of that happens, he lets out one last growl and leaves, flapping his wings and causing a gust of wind that tousles Nimue's hair.

There they stand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nimue, watching Azriel enter the house.

They look at each other, not knowing what to say, and the princess feels her heart racing.

It was so complicated, dealing with all those pure and unfiltered emotions that came to her from the other side of the bond...

Cassian snorts and then smiles at the two females.

"Would you like some tea?"

Nimue furrows her brows and looks at Feyre, then at Cassian.

"What is a tea?”

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @annblvd @annamariereads16

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand

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fizee · 3 days

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Non Disclosure Agreement 📃🖋️

Naoya x Reader | 3.3k | 18+ only!

Includes: female!reader, femdom!reader, man ass getting ate, submissive!naoya (mostly).

Content Warnings: consensual sexual asphyxiation, blatant cheating, prostitution, casual sexism.

Part of the Jujutsu Journal collab hosted by @ayyy-pee, thank you so much for including me! A big thank you to @mysteria157 for beta'ing extensively for me, as well as a couple of my close friends, and a big happy birthday to (you know who you are)

Naoya hates the rain.

Even in the summer months it’s less refreshing to him and more of a nuisance- sticky, damp, and everywhere. It pitters and soaks into his clothes and he would have brought an umbrella- if this was a place where anyone cared about getting rained on.

It's not.

The hotel is dingy and not worthy of the sad little three star review rating it managed to gain. The pavement he steps over is cracked, and the entrance he steps through is worn. Whatever. It suits his needs, even if it makes his clothes stink. He’d never get recognized in this part of town.

He gives the front desk clerk a cursory glance- feeling snide at the state of his wrinkled shirt and miserably nonchalant disposition. Naoya doesn’t have to check in, nobody does here. But he drops cash on the desk and keeps walking, not caring if it’s too much or too little.

You had already texted him the room number. He wonders if a place like this even has an elevator.

He turns down the hall and is only mildly surprised to find that there is, indeed, an elevator, despite this place only having three stories. It’s got trace amounts of rust. It squeals when the doors slide open.

He glances at his watch, tapping the screen to pull up your text. 36. He scoffs to himself. You and your third floors. Something about feeling unsafe on the first floor, which is stupid. He’s never understood that about you.

He finds the room quickly, ignoring the fact that as he gets closer, his collar feels tighter. It’s been too long since he’s seen you. He swears he can smell your perfume over all the mildew in the disgusting sixty year old hallway carpet. The perfume was his choice, of course. A birthday gift. You had almost refused it, saying that you don’t take gifts from clients and blah blah blah. He’s not one to look a horse in the mouth, so he had made you suck his cock to earn it. It does smell good on you.

He knocks quickly, six short thuds on the door. He doesn’t bother to try the handle, he knows it’s locked. He gives a quick glance at the hallway around him when he hears the door unlock, and watches the handle turn.

“Mr. Zenin.” You greet him with a graceful smile. He rolls his eyes and walks past you into the room, not wanting to linger in the hallway.

“You’re late,” you accuse sweetly. “A half hour late, to be precise.”

“Put it on my tab.” He grumbles. You just smile, approaching him and helping him out of his coat just how he likes, smoothing your hands out over his back as you do. You hook the coat over the crooked little hanger that juts out of the wall, looking stupidly bespoke on outdated wallpaper.

He takes a seat unceremoniously in the faded pink chair sitting opposite the bed.

“This place is a dump.” He says. He eyes your clothes- pink and flowy, opaque but not thick enough to hide your shape. It flows over you like water, and his collar feels tighter. You smile gently and walk over to press your palms into his shoulders from behind.

“Dumps keep secrets.” You murmur. His hair smells good. You press your face to it and kiss him gently.

“Far cry from Aman,” He complains, reminding you of the hotel you had met each other in, all the way across the world.

“God, I haven’t thought of that place in years,” You run your fingers in the dips of his collarbones, laughing gently, “You were the only sober one at that party, stuck out like a sore thumb.”

“And you were the only whore not hanging off a man’s neck.”

“What can I say?” You undo the top few buttons of his shirt to expose his skin to your warm touch, “I’ve got… refined tastes.”

He hums. His watch dings once but he doesn’t bother to check it. He runs a hand over his jaw, reminiscing of how you had looked in that party room, full of investment cucks and coke addicted businessmen and glittery, shimmering whores. You seemed to almost glow under the dim lights, alone, calling to him with your gaze.

He sighs.

“Long day?” You ask.

“Long month.” He mutters bitterly. “You didn’t return my calls.”

“I was on vacation.” You dig your fingers into his trapezius soothingly, finding the spots that make him melt gooey like butter.

“Since when do whores take vacations?”

“Since filthy rich married men started paying them extra.”

He snorts. He reaches up and grabs your hand, pressing his mouth to your warm fingertips.

“Did you miss me?” You ask playfully, ducking your head to giggle in his ear, “Or did you miss my-“

You’re cut off when he grabs your face and holds you so he can plant a slightly slobbery kiss on your lips. Your glossy red lipstick smears on his mouth. He has his belt unbuckled by the time he releases his hold on you, but you frown for a moment.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” You had definitely tasted the alcohol on his tongue, but drunk he did not seem. Far from it. He’s looking up at you with an icy clarity.

“I don’t.”

“Mhmm. Does Mrs. Zenin know?”

“You’re a cunt,” he says, but there is no real bite behind it. “A stupid cunt. Suck me off.”

“Is that really what you want?” You snake around the chair, putting yourself in his lap. It’s a bit awkward with the bulky, ugly chair, but you manage to press the very core of you where he's most sensitive. Your hands drift up his chest and rest at his neck, and you lean in to whisper against his mouth.

“You’ll have work for that.” You kiss him gently. “Unless, of course, you can ask nicely for once.”

His mouth pulls into a half hearted sneer but his cheeks glow pink. His eyes meet yours and his pupils are wide and dark and calm, two tiny black lakes.

His silence is his answer.

“You really did miss me,” You murmur sweetly, bringing your hands up to press around his neck, thumbs securely pressed on either side of his windpipe. You press hard. His face slowly goes red. His hips jerk in pavlovian response. You can feel the hard length of him against the curve of your ass, begging to be free of his pants.

He gasps finally, Inhaling quickly through his constricted throat. He doesn’t avert his eyes from yours, looking at you desperately while you grind against him and tighten your grip on his neck even more. His hands grab at the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. He tries to keep his breathing even, but it comes in quick, needy huffs.

“I hope you can be good for me tonight.” You coo. You kiss him. He whines, attempting to chase your mouth when you pull away, but you keep an iron grip on his neck, preventing him from moving more than an inch.

You give him one more hard press into his lap and you can tell he’s already close, and so soon! His eyes are slightly glazed, drool threatening to drip from his open mouth. You'd bet all the money he’s paying you that he’s already leaking if you reached and touched him.

You release him suddenly, rubbing over his shoulders while he gasps for a full breath. He keeps his palms firmly to the chair, resisting the urge to grab you and hold you to him and ruin the ridiculously expensive pants he’s got on.

You slide off his lap and stand to soak in the view- the red streaks chasing over his neck, the tent in his pants.

“Stand up. Clothes off.” You tell him, dropping your robe to the floor. You don’t strip down like he begins to do, instead leaving the matching slip covering your body.

You hum in approval as he removes his shirt, eating up the lovely shape of his body. He’s always taken care of himself, almost obsessively so. His pants are next to go, and then the non descript black briefs.

He averts his eyes as he stands before you, nude. His erection twitches in the cold air.

“Got some tanning done, did you?” You step in and pet over his taught stomach, grazing low to tease him.

“Malibu.” He says, some of that snide returning, “and you could have come with me if you’d returned my calls.”

“I remember that. Some of your twitter fanboys posted about it. I doubt Mrs. Zenin would have appreciated me coming with you on a family trip.”

“Wasn’t really a family trip.” He grits out as you feather over his hips, his thighs, appreciating what a specimen he is. “The boys stayed with the nanny the whole time. And she just-“ he grunts when you reach lower and touch his balls, avoiding his cock alltogether, “She’s a prize tuna, I’ll give her that. Not like you.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s an extra six hundred if you want me to listen to you badmouth your wife. Get on the bed.”

He looks like he's going to say something, mouth parting and brow furrowing. You peer at him warmly, your pupils as blown as his. He closes his mouth, deciding not to say whatever was knocking around in his head, and climbs onto the bed without fanfare.

You watch him closely, enjoying the view of his nude body splayed out and primed for you to play with. He’s flushed everywhere he’s sensitive- his face, his chest, his cock. Without stimulation you see it already going half soft, so you kneel onto the bed over him and place your palm against his head. He gasps and jerks, grabs your wrist but quickly loosens his grip and just holds you there.

“C’mon,” he pleads. Though he’d cuss and whine if you described it as pleading. He ruts himself against your palm, his teeth dig into his lower lip. It's not enough but it’s also too much. He’s always been sensitive.

“You could ask.” You say, knowing he won’t. You pull away and his fingers twitch with the need to take himself in hand.

“You’re a bitch.” He says. “Evil fucking bitch.”

You laugh. It’s a light and gentle thing. He doesn’t think about how nice it sounds.

“You really know how to talk to a lady, huh?” You press on his shoulder, making him lay back fully.

“I can hardly call you a lady.” He’s got a hungry look in his eyes. He looks good laying there- hair slightly ruffled, cheeks pink. It’s a sight you’ve seen a dozen times but you’ll never grow tired of.

He lays still, waiting. He glowers at you while you make him wait. You come up near his head and sling a leg over his neck.

“Maybe this will shut you up.” You hike up the slip you wear and grin down at him. No, of course you’re not wearing anything underneath it. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your thighs and shove his nose into the neat curls there and lick a hot wet stripe into your core.

You’ve been wet and swollen for a while. It’s nearly conditioned. You feel a slight tingle every time he calls you, wanting to see you. Wanting to fuck you. But now you’re soaked, your cunt wetting his face without shame, arching your back when he finds your clit and sucks on it desperately.

You lock your thighs around his head, cutting off nearly all the airflow he would’ve managed to get before. He likes it. You reach behind you and grip the base of him, feeling him twitch and pulse. He suckles on your clit til you’re keening- and right as you squeeze his cock a little harder and your hips jerk a little more desperately, he shifts and his tongue delves deep into your dripping hole, licking and practically drinking you down. You make a choked little whimper, so close to release.

You grab his hair and hold him beneath you, grinding your cunt into his mouth and nose and eating up every muffled noise he makes. His tongue works hungrily, desperate to please you, delving as deep as he can into your cunt and searching out the spots that make you gasp and moan sweetly for him.

He swipes his tongue just right, and you fall over the edge, grunting and whimpering and twitching all over.

You roll over from on top of him and he gasps wildly, hair ruined and mouth wet and swollen pink. He just looks at you as you gain your breath, your insides gooey and warm and pulsing with aftershocks. He gives you a small, coy little smile.

“I guess I’m not the only one who was missing it.”

You shove at him playfully, all pretense falling away for a moment. You sit up to clear your head, not forgetting that he’s still hard, and leaking, and needy.

“Turn over. Hands and knees.” You tell him. His blush returns tenfold. He glances away from you in tentative embarrassment, though it’s obvious that what he’s hoping for isn’t going to be damped by a little thing like shame. He doesn’t have to be a shameful creature with you.

He does as you command, rolling over and propping himself up on his elbows and knees, his back already slightly arched. You’re definitely appreciating the view. He hides his face from you.

“Oh, wow.” You grin. “Smooth as butter, huh?”

“Shut up.” He snaps, his voice muffled by the pillow. You take a moment to really see the view of him- his tight pink hole is smooth and perfect, obviously recently waxed. Or maybe even lasered. You never know with him. You run your fingers over him, light as a whisper, dragging a caress over his cock to his balls and finally to his hole. It twitches. Cute.

“I should take a picture, pretty as you are.” You say. You grab his cheeks in each of your hands, spreading him fully.

He mutters something about our NDA, something about you being a bitch. You don’t really pay any mind as you lean over him and spit out a thick glob of saliva over the tight ring of muscle, making him gasp.

He goes perfectly still In anticipation, his dick jerking with every lick you apply to him. You drag your tongue against his perineum up to his hole- he tastes clean, like only salt. You know he’s obsessive with how he grooms himself. Saliva slowly runs down, leaving a trail of wet across his balls.

You slip your hand under him to grab his length to give him one long, smooth pull, earning a tiny little whimper from him. You plant your mouth fully on his hole, tongue rubbing circles into the muscle. You jerk him off slowly, too slow to ever bring him to completion. He whines and twitches under your touch and you feel a throb deep in your core for the way he’s trembling.

You bring your head away from him earning a slight wet pop as your mouth breaks the seal it had over his hole, leaving your drool to cool on his heated skin. You slide your hand over his cock faster, gathering up his precum to make the slide easier, your grip is intense and tightens more around the base, pulling down and milking him like some breeding stud. His hips begin to move in the air, and the noises he makes, muffled by the pillow, are throaty and low. You know how he sounds when he’s close, how he shakes with the climb, and when he nears his peak you abruptly pull away to deny him. He groans loudly in frustration and need, and finally looks over his shoulder to glare at you, his fucked out expression not hiding his irritation.

“I don’t want you ruining the sheets.” You say. He catches on immediately, sitting up and grabbing you to put you under him. He practically rips the slip from your body, the fabric strains and the stitches pop, pulling it up and over your head so he can press his flushed skin against yours.

You almost protest, you actually did like that dress, but he kisses you with teeth and growls something about buying you a new one. He grabs your breasts roughly and you feel the length of him pillowing itself against your lips. But he doesn’t do more than that, rutting against your cunt and swallowing your noises with his mouth. He whines.

“Naoya,” You say, when your hot tongues part, “Naoya-“

He grabs your hips and positions you perfectly to plunge his aching cock into your slick heat, as desperate as an animal, and just as rough.

The sudden intrusion makes you cry out in pleasure, his thrusts coming in quick, needy bursts. He presses his sweaty brow into the pillow under your head. His hands hold your waist like a lifeline, his need ramming inside of yours, jerking and twitching and hot and wet. He kisses your cervix with every pump, leaving you breathless and needy.

But you know he can’t finish properly like this. You can see it when he pulls back to look at you, his face flushed and his mouth open and drooling. You wind your hands around his throat and squeeze, blocking his air and turning his noises into tiny pathetic gasps and wheezes. It doesn’t take long. His hips stutter and he finally, finally finds what he’s looking for, tipping over and cumming so hard he stops even trying to breathe. You feel every drop of him rush out to paint your insides, his cock throbbing hot within your liquid-warm walls.

You release his throat and he takes a sharp, ragged inhale, his body locking up with the rush of oxygen and endorphins. His cock pulses inside of you again as if his balls aren’t spent completely, and you feel his cum finding its way to the entrance of your hole and spilling out around his length, way too much to be plugged up inside.

“Fuck,” He grunts, “fuck.”

You hum and run your palms up his sides and down his back where you can reach as he pieces his senses back together. He pulls from your core and you hiss in strange pleasure and slight soreness.

He rolls to the side and slumps on the bed, breathing deep and enjoying the afterglow. You wiggle your hips, feeling him leak out of you even more, thick and warm.

You’re both silent for a few minutes. His watch dings right as you turn to touch his chest, his arms, run your fingers over the angry red on his neck.

He glances at it. Groans in pure discontent.

“Work?” You trace his nipple with an idle finger.

“Yes.” He sits up, glancing over the mess of the bed. “I’ve got an eight o’clock tomorrow, apparently.”

“You can’t cancel?” You shift and stretch, not missing how his eyes graze over your body. “You’ve already booked me for twenty four hours.”

“No.” He says, simply. “Obligations… responsibilities… I don’t know, whatever bullshit you want to call it.”

“Do you want a shower?” You lean over and press your smeared mouth to his shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I mean, of course it’s disgusting, but you don’t want to go home smelling like… well, you know.”

Naoya breathes, long and deep. Then he looks back at you.

“You getting in with me?”

A/N: “Tuna” is a term in Japanese hookup culture that can be equated to a ‘pillow princess’ in an extreme sense. There’s nothing wrong with being a pillow princess, but I personally believe it’s not something this Naoya is particularly into.

Thank you so much for reading!

#JujutsuJournal #Naoya Zenin x Reader #Naoya x Reader #jjk #x reader #fem reader #Reader x Naoya #naoya zenin #jjk naoya #jujutsu kaisen #i don't even fw naoya that much tbh #fizee.post

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aclickbaittitle · 15 hours

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Underated Audio-Dramas

Asking for it

A queer contemporary take of the Goldilocks tale: about love, music and breaking the cycle of abuse. Goldie escapes a chaotic childhood only to go from a partner who starves her of love to a partner who nearly drowns her in it, before learning to be just right on her own.

My two-cents: This audio-drama I believe is a most listen for any queer person, but especially for us sapphics that want and/or have been in a relationship. I think not much is said about how women are able to harm you, I remember that AN in "Nothing Burns as Bright as You" as how as a bisexual woman the author was taught to be wary of men, but never of woman and in her experience woman often hurt her the most. I remember being in a school conference talking about domestic abuse but never did it once touch on same-gender couples.

All of this is to say that as a society we often neglect to take a real look at how abuse in queer relationships look like, how they look especially in sapphic and lesbian relationships. So I am entirely greatfull "Asking For It Does".

I am lucky enough to have never been in any situation that Goldie finds herself in and still I feel that I know her story not in short thanks to the amazing writer.

Also the MUSIC, the music in this podcast is amazing, and it is from a real band, that also exists within the podcast. How awesome is that!

Fanwars: The Empire Claps Back

Two passionate Star Wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate argue via Skype after their favorite forum closes down. If you love Star Wars (or call yourself a proud member of any fandom), you’ll love this romantic comedy told via conversations.

My two cents: The trials and tribulations of being a POC in fandom, more importantly in starwars fandom and realizing that, "oh damm right, poc can spill the same dung as yt fans". And amazing if straight rom-com. I'll recommend it to anyone who wants to spend an afternoon laughing. It also futures the ever growing in popularity pair of a black woman with an asian man, whom is just slightly of an asshole.

Average Folks

Join your friendly neighborhood Prophetess Terra, and the dysfunctional Chieftain's family as they navigate life, love and creatures of an unusual sort.

My two-cents: I've binge-listened to the 1st season of this podcast. It has surprisingly great worldbuilding even though the story develops in a relatively small town. Terra is a great protagonist to follow around bu the characters that really stand out for me are the kids of the Chief and their own aspirations/conflicts about the place their family has on society. It is a bit politician/rich/monarch apologist though.

Deep Blue Stars

Dr. Indigo Hale treads upon a mysterious island, inhabited by nothing more than crabs and cranes, where they must find a way to make it past impostor syndrome, the strange and wonderful loneliness, and the secret nature of their life's work: the Star Shell.

My two-cents: This podcast came at the precise moment of my life so I always hold it dear to my heart. I was discovering my gender in my own terms, and as always struggling with my never ending loneliness, so Dr. Indigo Hale's rambles were a soothing salve. I'll never forget that excerpt about how they felt no-human growing up, 'cause yeah, maybe is the queernes, or the neuro-divergency but it hit spot on. If you like stories of people getting stranded on a desert-island and then creating a relationship with a non-human thing/animal to survive, you'll really love this.

#audiodrama sunday #podcast recommendations #audio drama #fiction podcast #average folks #deep sea stars #fanwars: the empire claps back #asking for it

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xhanisai · 1 year

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I’m curious-

Am I the only one who draws and writes stuff that mainly starts or diverges from the first three seasons, rather than making them canon compliant with s4 and onwards?

I don’t know how to explain it but I feel like after episode Ladybug in s3, the canon story becomes very complex and heavy so it’s a little harder to come up with stuff that happens during then.

Like there’s too much going on at once.

Drawing is easier cos no thinking is required but writing is quite a challenge. That’s why I don’t write fics for medias that have a complex storyline because my brain would get overwhelmed easily lol.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #this is NOT salt by the way!!!!#i'm just wondering if anyone else struggles with writing canon compliants or diversions with the current seasons like I am #and i do love the show 10000%#but i guess its simplicity in the beginning helped me be more creative with writing #i've written maybe a couple of drabbles and stories set in s4 and s5 but they're very short compared to my monstrously long oneshots set #either in the earlier seasons or semi aus #characterisation is no problem for me cos i've actually managed to nail it from the beginning at least hahahahaha

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ruby-static · 11 months

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I've finally been playing a little more New Vegas lately!

And guess what!

FOUND YOU, FUCKER-

#Static screams into the void #Static plays FNV #FNV #Arcade Gannon #Fallout New Vegas #WHAT'S UP GAYBOY #LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-#SMOOCHES HIM SMOOCHES HIM SMOOCHES HI #Okay okay-#I've only been playing NV in short bursts lately #(First ever serious playthrough!)#and haven't been able to progress as much as I'd like.#But I've been hyped as hell to finally find this wonderful smartass in-game!! Love this fucker bro!! :'D #I met him while doing ED-E's quest (giving him to the Followers)#because it just kinda fits story-wise #but I sadly couldn't trigger any of Arcade's dialogue for it for some reason?#(if I make any story/art content I'll include it anyway.)#Can't wait to have him as a companion soon. I still need to do a few things though.#I definitely need to make a drawing/comic about my courier Riley meeting the dude at some point-#If anyone is interested let me know! (I'll probably still do it regardless.)

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m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months

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wattpad is so crazy because users will leave comments expressing nothing but pure disdain and anger for whatever reason (y/n’s characterization, the decision to include original characters, temporary ships and subplots, etc)…like at a certain point i start to wonder if they realize that no one is forcing them to read anything 😭

#this is mostly about endure actually #that story got way too popular considering how inexperienced i was when i wrote it #it haunts me #but also it was never meant to be read by anyone but my best friend so a lot of things are just random or silly in it for no reason #‘they had makeup remover back then??’#idk but mikasa s1-2 was swinging around in that nyx butter gloss shade 05 crème brulee so shit they sure must’ve!!#also sorry y/n at the ripe age of nine wasn’t down to commit murder w the besties 💔#and that she had a crush on reiner…CRIME PUNISHABLE BY DEATH.#(literally)#there’s several wonderful people on wattpad and i’ve met some of my fav mutuals on there #but the user base overall is the reason i stopped posting on it #anyways sorry for the rant but long story short #i am by no means a perfect author but like. i’m going to write what i write and you can either choose to read it or click away #but there is no need for you put either of us through the strain that comes from leaving comments complaining abt what i choose to write :)#m’s thoughts

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mintjeru · 9 months

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color wheel challenge ❤️ red shidou hikaru from magic knight: rayearth

open for better quality | no reposts

#hikaru shidou #magic knight rayearth #fanart #myart #doodle #a little bit of a niche start here but haha hey has anyone else read rayearth?#it's a short series and kind of a cliche isekai/magical girl story but i still like it #and uhhhhh maybe i thought lantis was cute as a kid #anyway i tried to draw hikaru's fire arrow pose here #i thought i was gonna have to draw it like a real bow and arrow but i looked up the manga and she's just. pointing??#i mean hey that makes it easier for me #this is not the first clamp series character i plan on drawing btw #clamp is so good at drawing water and fire and they were/still are huge inspo for me #i wonder if anyone can guess what the theme of this challenge is

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anipgarden · 7 months

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Catch me out here making posts on how to collect milkweed seeds because I'm hoping at least SOMEONE out there has good luck

*collapses to the ground* my fuckin swamp milkweeds got Heat Waved and barely even flowered, let alone got pollinated.... I'll have to see if my root stock ones or Swampy even come back next year, but this year definitely isn't the Year of the Ani Swamp Milkweed Success

#out of queue #ani rambles #oh yeah if anyone was wondering I do name my milkweeds sometimes #my three root stock swamp milkweeds are named Ross Lizanne and Alana #then I got Swampy. Swampy lives in the big pot by my window.#then I got Taylor. Taylor's another swamp milkweed she lives with Ross Lizanne and Alana #I also got a big butterfly weed plant and 2 plugs so they're named Albert Brett and Isaac #i think they died kinda early on though. Either that or I just can't fucking find them #what i thought was Albert ended up being my bee balm plant so minus 2 points in my milkweed identification skill #my bestie recently got me 3 swamp milkweeds and one of them had a butterfly weed growing in its pot too #i forgot to water them so i thought they died but they came back so i put them in a pot recently near Swampy #i havent officially named them yet but I have ideas #I might name two of the swamp milkweeds Morgan and Charlotte #and maybe I'll name the little butterfly weed Miles #but I still need a name for the third swamp milkweed.......#or actually. scratch that #third swamp milkweed is Miles and the butterfly weed is gonna be Maddi #anyways long story short #Swampy Ross Lizanne Alana and Taylor MIGHT be dead #I haven't been able to even FIND Albert Brett or Isaac since like July #Morgan Charlotte Miles and Maddi are my newest additions and are currently confirmed FINE #BUT its almost October so if they can't get super situated before the frosts start later this year they may be doomed #granted im in North Florida so frosts won't happen until late December/early January but STILL #and NONE of them flowered #well clarification #Swampy flowered but no other swamp milkweeds were flowering at the same time as her #I think Taylor ALMOST flowered but then heat wave happened #either Morgan Charlotte or Miles WAS flowering when I first got them but then Heatwave Happened #so uh. unless I get a post-heatwave economic miracle. no swamp milkweed seeds for me.

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universestreasures · 3 months

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Extension / Spinoff Of This Thread With @shacchou

The vibration from his pager in his pocket was sudden and out of nowhere, but he reacts to it as effortlessly as he did anything. Tasuku, along with Jack who was back in his card form, both move away from the other members of the Buddy Police that had gathered to arrest the criminal they both apprehended. His face shifts to one of concern as he presses the button in the center, immediately connecting the human to the youngest of the two Kaiba Brothers.

"Mokuba, are you okay?! Are you hurt at all?! What's your status?!"

"Tasuku...I'm...I'm okay. I'm not in danger or anything. I just...didn't want to contact you through...normal means."

"Oh..." He can feel his heart rate slow with that confirmation, but he still remains on edge. "Well, I'm glad you're not hurt. Didn't expect you to use the pager for a non-emergency, but that's no matter. It's clear you called me for a reason through these means. So, please. Say what you want to say. You...don't sound like yourself."

"Y-Yeah...I...I kinda have a big favor to ask of you."

"I see... Well, all you need to do is ask me, Mokuba. I'll do my best to help you in anyway I can. I promised you that the day we met, and that offer still stands now."

"Thanks, Tasuku."

The officer can hear Mokuba taking in a deep breath next. It was clear as day something was up. The way he was speaking now reminded him of how he was during the period his older brother was in a coma, when he was in agony over his brother's condition despite what Seto Kaiba had done to him. He was a caring and loving soul, Tasuku knew that much to be true.

"I...I wanted to ask if I could...stay with you for a while? I...I need some time away from my house, away from...away from..."

"You don't need to say it. I already can understand what probably happened. In any case, you're more than welcome to stay at my place for as long as you need. It's no trouble at all."

"A-Are you sure? I wouldn't...be burdening you at all? I know how busy you are with your work."

"Of course not. Friends and family are never burdens." He makes sure to emphasize that for him before continuing. "And while I'm an important part of the Buddy Police, I'm not the only officer on duty. Besides, Mr.Takihara was going to have me go on forced vacation for a few weeks now that the Rare Hunter situation is handled anyway. So, it really is no trouble at all."

Ruby hues widen once the sounds of sobbing reach his ears. The sounds of crying where among his least favorite noises, but not because he found it irritating. Crying often was a signal someone was in pain. Pain was a form of suffering, and as someone who wanted to rid the world, especially children, of suffering, hearing it made his heart ache and his ranger towards his assumed source of it grow.

"How...How dare he..."

The thoughts echo in his mind as he clenches his free hand, it shaking in his righteous anger. Seto Kaiba was already someone he didn't exactly like for several reasons, but to think he'd do something again to hurt his brother after the stunt he pulled at Death-T? Did he really learn nothing after almost losing everything?

Whenever he runs into that bastard again, he's going to give him a personal taste of Tasuku's own brand of justice. No one, no matter who you are or what the circumstances, should treat the only family they cherish in such a horrible way. He didn't even need to know the full details to know just how bad the situation was. Mokuba's tears he can hear through the speaker spoke volumes.

"It's going to be alright, Mokuba. I'm going to help you get through whatever it is that's troubling you. Just stay strong until I see you, okay? Know you're not alone."

"...T-Thank...T-Thank you...C-Can we meet at...the park?"

"Sure, no problem. Jack and I will meet you there. He can carry you back to my place. You did say you always wanted to fly on a dragon, right?" Jack normally wouldn't be too comfortable carrying someone on his back, but considering the circumstances, even Tasuku knows his Buddy wouldn't turn this down. The dragon cared for the young boy just as he did, after all.

"Mhmm. S-See you soon."

"See you soon. Be careful."

The transmission ends and his hand falls to his side. His teeth gritt in frustration, his breaths almost sounding like a dragon's growl. Despite his politeness and warm smile he tried to maintain as a part of his professionalism, he was still a rather emotional person. He felt thing so intensely, so deeply, that they threatened to consume his actions. And his emotions right now were screaming at him to go down to the Kaiba Mansion and personally give Seto Kaiba a piece of his mind.

It's at that moment when he feels a warmth and sees a glow coming from his chest. Tasuku knows right away it was his Buddy calling out to him, no doubt sensing his emotions. He puts his hand over the pocket where Jack's card was stored, closing his eyes as he moves to communicate with him telepathically.

"Tasuku... I understand your feelings toward the situation. You are not wrong to feel how you do. Your righteous heart of justice always cries out at the suffering of others, especially those you are close to. However, if you wish to truly help your friend with the emotional troubles he is facing, then you must calm yourself first. If you are consumed by your anger, then you won't be able to help anyone. Your friend is counting on you right now. Do you understand what I am saying?"

In situations like this, Jack really acted like his own consciousness. Everything he was saying was absolutely correct. Getting upset now would not help the situation. It would probably make it worse than anything. Mokuba was his priority right now, not his brother. All his focus should be put into making sure the younger Kaiba was safe and taken care of. In a way, he's to assume the role of an older brother for the time being, the role at this very moment Tasuku thought Seto Kaiba didn't deserve at this moment. And it's a role he will not fail at for the sake of his friend who reached out to him desperately, a friend who needed him and wanted his aid.

He would not fail.

"I...I understand, Jack. I know what must be done." He takes a deep breath then, trying to steel himself before he makes his next move. Tasuku reaches into his pocket to remove his Buddy's cards, holding it up into the air as he prepares for their departure. "Let's go to work."

With that, Jack's card glows, the dragon manifesting in his mini-form before the human. Tasuku grabs his deckcase, the Star Pulsar, from his pocket and shows it to the other. The red gem in the yellow case's center resonates with a golden glow of Jack's eyes, the deckcase eventually transforming into its true form, that of a yellow drone with four points sticking out of it.

"BUDDY SKILL ON."

The technological voice from his device is soon followed by a light burst of wind as Jack's Buddy Skill makes itself known. Two green rings appear at the boy's heels, their power causing him to start floating in the air. Once airborne, he wastes no time flying straight into the clouds towards his destination, with Jack soaring at his side.

It is during this flight that he informs his legal guardian of the situation. Mr.Takihara, being the kind of person he was, had a soft spot for children. So, of course he was okay with the idea. Tasuku had his own apartment joined with his, anyway. It was up to him how he managed the one-bedroom space. He gave the boy that kind of trust as if he were an adult.

Within minutes, the pair made it to the park. They sit on a nearby bench as they wait for the younger Kaiba to appear, Tasuku getting anxious as the minutes pass. Would he get there safely? Should he have just gotten him? What if he got mugged on the way here? All these thoughts rushed through his mind, and he was debating about going, until he hears footsteps approach and Mokuba comes into view at long last.

"Hey, Mokuba. Glad you got here safe."

He offers the young boy a warm smile he hopes will offer him some comfort and relief. Ruby hues observe the other's response, Mokuba providing only a small nod. The bag he was carrying with him was quickly noticed as well. Seems he brought things with him. Good. It be difficult to be away from home without some of your personal items, after all.

"Got everything you-"

Mokuba then approaches the Buddy Police Boy Wonder, Tasuku remaining still as he watches on. It is then that Mokuba slowly moves up his hands until they find themselves wrapped around the older boy's waist, the other's head resting on his shoulder pad. Before he can make a response, he freezes in place at the all too painful sound of crying reaching his ears for the second time tonight.

Tasuku responds soon enough, wrapping his own arms around the boy and providing gentle pats on his back. This is not his first go around comforting a crying child. It was something he, unfortunately, had plenty of experience with, considering his line of work. Children were often targets of game-related crimes, but that was part of why he did what he did, to protect those who could not protect themselves. It was his life's mission and one he continues to get stronger for.

"Mokuba...Don't worry. It's all going to be alright. Have faith in me, Jack, and your friends to help you. We'll be right there by your side to help you through this. I promise."

His grip on the boy tightens slightly then, a physical confirmation of his promise. He was going to care for Mokuba as if he were his brother, just as he would do for Gao or any of his friends should they need it. The selfless boy who was too desperate to become an adult would always shoulder the burden of those around him, being their rock when they needed it most...even at the cost of himself.

"Now, let's get going. You must be exhausted after everything." The Buddy Police officer speaks up once he hears the sound of the sobbing decrease, gently letting go of Mokuba and directing him towards Jack who was now in his true form. He lowers his body to the ground, allowing Mokuba to climb on his back safely. Tasuku will be sure to thank Jack for allowing this to happen, considering he was not a fan of being ridden.

Once secured, the three then soar into the air and into the clouds, leaving the town of Domino behind for the neighboring city of Cho-Tokyo, a place where Seto Kaiba had no power in. Hopefully, this change of scenery would help his friend recover from the emotional wounds inflicted on him, wounds that he should have never been inflicted on one so young, so innocent...like Mokuba Kaiba.

#💎 Crystalized Hidden Gems (Drabble)#💎 Wonder Treasure (Tasuku Ryuenji)#💎 NPC: Wonder's Faithful Buddy (Jackknife Dragon)#💎 Vice Treasure (Mokuba Kaiba)#💎 President With A Blue-Eyed Lighting (Shacchou)#💎 Wonder's Game Of Life (Tasuku Yu-Gi-Oh! DM Verse)#💎 Vice's Monochromic Alternate Path (Mokuba Manga Verse)#tw long post #(Ani may reblog this if she likes to keep the full story content of this on her blog!#(i've been working on this on and off this week and finally finished it #(in short: tasukus heart breaks for mokie has decided to be big bro figure for now and wants to punch seto kaiba in the face LMFAO #(i love writing tasuku's pov its so interesting to me #(and as ive said before hes one of the muses ive put the most work into so im usually very happy with his writing and this is no exception #(also love jack got to drop his dragon wisdom as that's always fun. he's such a dad #(mokies in good hands with his friends even if they can only do so much for him ;;;;#(anyway ty to anyone who read this and this event in me and ani's rp journey is breaking my heart ;;;;; but its been fun to explore #(love to hear peoples thoughts on these drabbles or whats going on in any of my threads so feel free to comment away

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tootditoot · 2 months

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The Plague of Time

The wind brushed the raven-black hair of Fléu as she waltzed through the meadows that was painted in rustic light brown. She hopped over the roaming insects in the meadow and carefully side stepped the twigs upon her path. Fléu would even twist and turn as if she was a ballet dancer and the land was her ballroom. Her dress that was adorned with embellishments and ornamentations depicting vines and branches graciously flew with the wind as her floppy silk hat, with a peacock feather in its rim, covered her from the rays of the harsh sun.

When the sun would set, she would then again return to her cottage, but not after collecting and picking daisies from nature’s gardens.

“Ever so pretty and blossoming! A shame that one cannot retain their beauty once pluck from its stem!” Fléu proclaimed jovially to nobody as she stored each daisy flowers into a basket.

But alas, such days of spring and summer never last. Winter came the next morning, and so the meadows withered and hid under a thick blanket of snow. She; however, persisted: Through the lens of her bird mask, she gazed upon the fields she used to roam in the summer, now covered in snow. Fléu thought to herself: “Why of all lands from the north to the south, did the winter chose to scourge mine?”

Thinking of a way to remove the snow from her fields, she went back to the cottage and boiled water in a huge pot.

Fléu watched as bubbles of all sorts popped up in her pot. “Aha! Surely this shall drive away the winter’s icy grips from the land of mine!”

She went outside again, now dragging a huge pot of boiling water behind her. “Begone, O Winter! I offer not but an inch of mine harvest unto you!” Fléu shouted at the field of snow before throwing her boiling pot at the snow-covered field, but such a pot of boiling water was not able to melt the fields entirely. “Hmph!” Her cheeks puffed red, seeing the failure of the plan that she had devised, she went back to her cottage stomping the snow on the way in.

As she paced back and forth within the living room of her cottage, she began to ponder:

“What else is there to drive away winter but the heat of the great orb that floats upon us all?”

She glimpses outside her window and observed the sky, surely enough, the fiery orb she spoke off was hidden beneath the winter clouds much like the landscape covered beneath winter’s blanket.

“Eureka!” Fléu slammed her table. “I shall not go outside to spite winter’s arrival!” She patted herself on the back for the brilliant plan she thought off. “Now then winter! We shall see who dominates this realm!”

She sat on the chair next to the cottage’s window to witness the snow melt from her fields; just waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting… until her eye lids finally had enough of spitefully looking at the winter storm and shut itself to rest.

Not but a moment passed and she shook herself back to life. “Ah! Winter! You think I would missed a moment of your demise?! Think again!” She said as she rubbed the glass lenses on her mask, she took a glance of the window, but something was strange. She couldn’t see a speck of snow outside. How long has it been since she was asleep? Days? Months? Years? It can’t be, she only closed her eyes for a mere moment and yet, winter suddenly vanish as if it was just thin air.

Her mind was riddled at first as she gazed off into the once again blossoming meadow, but it felt somewhat strange to her that winter suddenly disappeared without a trace but she shrugged it off. Kicking down her cottage door in excitement, Fléu waltzed again to the meadow she once knew and loved, but something was different, she could not help but notice the meadow’s grass was taller and much rougher than before, but as she walked deeper within the meadow it finally hit her.

“My meadow that was sweet and luscious! Who had defiled you and laid waste upon my land?!” She looked around, half of her meadow was now turned into a wheat field and could not have been more confused. Where did this wheat field come from? When was the land plowed? Many questions rang about in her mind as she scanned her land, but none could answer her queries

Thinking what may have caused this, Fléu’s thoughts were interrupted when she spotted something in the corner of her vision. On the far end of the field, she saw two moving silhouettes heading back into a dense forest path. Fléu shouted at them: “Halt! Halt I say!” The silhouettes stood still at her call.

As Fléu tore a path in the wheat field with haste to them, the closer she got, the more it became apparent they were fellow human beings, the first of whom she saw was a man who sported an unshaven beard and wore a ragged shirt and a hay-made hat while the other was a woman who wore a hole-torn dress and a cap. Both of their faces were scribbled with curiosity and a hint of fear as Fléu stepped forward to them.

“Who art thou?” Fléu said in the poshest of voices.

The man hesitantly stood in front of his companion, puffing up his chest, he replied: “We are but humble farmers, Madame, we mean no offense to you.”

“And what of this then?” Fléu gestured to the wheat fields behind her. “Surely you must know that this wheat field that was once a meadow belonged to me, yes?”

“T-that would be ridiculous, Madame!” The woman spoke up. “This wheat fields were passed unto us through our grandfather, the only meadow we know of is two acres away!”

“Fatima! Keep your voice down.” The man took of his hay hat and bowed sincerely to Fléu, “Pardon my sister for her ill-manners, Madame, but what she tells is true. This wheat field had always been a wheat field for decades.”

Fléu adjusted her bird mask as she heard of this. She couldn’t be mistaken, just before winter had arrive, this wheat field wasn’t here before, hell, there was no wheat field to begin with, only her grassy planes and meadows, just what had happened?

“Excuse me, Madame,” The girl who her companion introduced as Fatima tilted her head at Fléu: “Not to be inquisitive, but may I ask why you wear a bird mask whose beak curls up at the end?”

Fléu chuckes at her comment. “Merely allergic to pollen, that is all. I love a flare of dramatics too.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, was it, by chance, winter yesterday?”

“Winter yesterday?” The man replied with his eye brows raised. “Winter isn’t yet to come until a few months.”

Now that is strange, in Fléu’s perspective, snow was falling heavily yesterday, but now they say that winter hasn’t come yet? She stood fazed at the siblings as she tried to make sense of it all.

“Uhm, Madame?” Fatima waved a hand in front of Fléu’s face.

“O-oh, yes?” Fléu jumped at her gesture.

“You seem aghast, would you like a cup of tea in our place? It’s not quite far up, our home is by the forest.” Fatima smiled at her and her brother nodded to Fléu.

Seeing that she could not bring back half of her meadow again, she accepted their invitation and tailed behind as she followed them into a dense forest path.

As she followed them silently, she noticed the forest path seemed to be well-maintained, she notes that they regularly brush off the fallen leaves from time to time as well as trim the bushes in the path’s edges to provide a clear way for carriages.

After several minutes later, Fléu had finally arrived to their home. Their house was made of wood and cobble with a roof made of clay tiles and a little chimney to top it all off. This was indeed what Fléu imagined when she thought of a farmer’s houses.

“Please, do come in.” Fatima opened the wooden door wide for Fléu as she gestured her to enter. She stepped in and the two followed suit.

“Do make yourself at home, I’ll prepare some herbs for the tea.” Fatima said before retreating into their home’s kitchen.

“Pardon me, Madame, but I believed we had not made proper introductions.” Fatima’s brother spoke up from behind her. “I am Retinento.”

“Oh yes,” Fléu had almost forgotten to ask this man’s name after their encounter. “Call me Fléu, a pleasure to meet you.”

Retinento bowed. “Likewis-.”

“Bark!”

Retinento and Fléu jumped at the thunderous barks.

“Those darn wolves.” He scorned as he walked to open the door again. “If you’ll excuse me, Madame Fléu, I must check if our chickens from the back haven’t been pried open yet.”

Fléu watched as Retinento made his way outside to do his rounds.

“Must be hard living in the edge of the forest.” Fléu thought to herself. Not after a minute, Fatima appears again holding a tray with a wooden teapot and three tea cups placed neatly next to each other.

“Hmm?” Fatima looks around. “Did my brother went off somewhere again?”

“He said he was going to check the chickens in the back”

Fatima nodded as she placed the tea set on a table. “Wolves are getting quite active in this parts for some reason, but they never really dare to step near our house, so he’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She poured a cup of tea unto each cup and offered out one to Fléu.

“Here, I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Thanks.” Fléu grabbed hold of the cup. She could smell the scent of the fresh ingredients used even through her mask. She lifts her mask to drink. “Lavender and a hint of rosemary” Fléu noted as she drank from the cup, it was intoxicating to say the least.

“How is it?” Fatima asked, a nervous smile creeping around her face.

“Terifically refreshing!” Fléu replied as she drinks from the cup, making sure to tilt it at an angle where not a single drop would remain in it.

Fatima sighs in relief. “Thank you, we don’t often get guests around these parts, so this is the best we can offer.”

The door then swung open, revealing Retinento with his clothes somewhat muddied.

“By the grace of God, there’s more wolves than ever before!” He complained. “Lucky for us that they shy away from stepping out of the bushes. Just sling a few rocks at them and they scatter as fast as they appeared.”

“Oh dear, I do hope they do stay in there, else the daises would get trampled by their paws.” Said Fléu.

Fatima chuckles. “That would be a shame indeed.”

“Ah!” Retinento looks outside their house’s window. The sun has begun making its way to hide behind the hills once more. “I am sorry to interrupt, Madame, but it seems it will be dark soon.”

Fléu looks through the window as well. “It would seem so.” She stands up, brushing her skirt. “Well, I better get going then.”

“Leaving so soon?” Fatima interjects. “Can’t she stay here for a while, brother? I can prepare a haybale to rest on for tonight.”

“Oh no need, I have disturbed you long enough.” Said Fléu “But rest assured, I will be returning for another cup of your tea!”

They bid her farewell, Fléu gleefully skips back to her cottage hidden within the wheat fields. The trip back was uneventful, though there were some howling in the distance, it was not close enough to set her alarmed.

She finally arrives home. The familiar room of her cottage untouched and unmoved. The chair that she had sat on when she was waiting for the passing of winter was still there as she had left it, no cob webs nor any sign of deterioration whatsoever. “Oh!”Fléu looks around the room. “There should be a basket of daisies lying around here somewhere!”. She scours around. “A bunch of glass bottles on the shelf… a dozen books with torn pages inside a cabinet… A bundle of candles on the bed… AHA!”. Her hand reaches under her bed, the familiar texture of a whicker basket greets it. Pulling back, she is happy to find that her daises are still lush in their color and texture, as if she had just plucked it yesterday. “This would be a lovely gift for those two! We are technically neighbors since we share this wheat field that was once my meadow after all.” She thought to herself. In her enthusiasm, she spent the night arranging and rearranging the daises, all night, trying to get that perfect bouquet pattern, until her eyes could no longer keep up once again with her wild spirit.

She woke up, slump across her table, a basket of daisies that were beautifully assorted in a basket, laid in front of her. “Oh yes! The gift!” She jumped out of her sit quickly and grabbed the basket. Exiting her cottage in joyful anticipation. “Oh sweet tea! How I yearn for you again!”

In her haste, she failed to notice that the wheat fields that had surrounded the area had withered away, patches of weeds began to sprang more and more the deeper she went.

The forest path that she had walked alongside Fatima and Retinento the other day had seemingly been consumed by bushes and fallen leaves. Fléu would slow down her jog into a walk by then. “Huh” Fléu looks around, the air was seemingly different than when was here yesterday, and a single question ran through her mind: “Were the trees always this tall before?”

It would not take long for her to reach the sibling’s humble abode.

“Fatima? Retinento?” Fléu shouted as she approaches their house. The clay roof that once covered their house laid in ruin, cracked and falling apart, as the cobbled walls did as well. The chimney had fallen entirely to the side, and their door was ajar, with scratches adorning it. Only the faint glimmer of a cup remained at the front of the shambled doorsteps, with the fragrant hint of lavender and rosemary. Fléu stood there motionless as a gust of wind blew the daisies in her basket. Time had flown past like a gust of wind yet again.

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