#splash cup birds nest

[ilikeit-art]

This is the TINIEST bird's nest you'll ever see! Bird's nest fungi are a group of fungi that resemble bird nests due to their cup-shape and small egg-like reproductive structures nestled inside.

Young fruiting bodies have a thin membrane which eventually splits and reveals 'eggs' which have a diameter of 1-3mm. These reproductive bits, called peridioles, become splashed out when rain lands inside the cup!

There are around 60 species of bird's nest fungi found throughout the world on organic matter, such as decaying wood, in forests.

[seaspringangel]

sparrow in the storm — ais

summary: ais becomes a sanctuary for not only one, but two little sparrows.

word count: 1.1k

content warnings: gn!reader ✦ established relationship ✦ fluff ✦ mild mild suggestive themes ✦ reader wearing ais’s yukata cuz its their god given right

notes: a while ago, @hollana sent me cute ask one + ask two and @danger-bird made adorable fanart for it. they really made my entire month! so this is dedicated to them :) this is also a birthday gift for @danger-bird, as today is their birthday today. i hope they have a wonderful celebration!

The bright melody of birdsong carried you out of the haze of your dreams.

So soft and sweet it was, it wrapped around you like a silken blanket, a touch warmer than the drowsy heat emanating from the fabric of Ais’s yukata that covered your entire body at the moment.

The birdsong was serenading in your left ear, so you languidly turned in that direction, your nose immediately brushing against the thigh of the Monster sitting upright beside you, cross-legged. You peeled your eyes open, and your world delicately smudged red from the eerie glow radiating from the waters of the Seaspring.

Between the cradle of his red horns, an actual sparrow was nesting in the darkness of Ais’s hair.

You stare at the bird for a few seconds, watching the crystalline rain droplets gather like gem clusters on Ais's head. “So you’re finally replacing me, it seems.”

Eyes closed, Ais smirked. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

You roll your eyes so hard that it's a miracle they didn’t become lodged in your skull.

You sat up and yawned, idly fidgeting with the bandages wrapped around your arms. “When did you even get a real sparrow, anyway?”

“She flew in with the storm,” was Ais’s soft reply, and you listen to the din of rain thundering the rooftop of the Seaspring like a barrage of fists striking down from the heavens, the cloudy light seeping in from the outside painting his bare chest in translucent silver splashes. “She was weak. Couldn’t leave her out in the cold.”

You smiled a bit as the bird, still singing its merry little song, fluttered down from his hair to nuzzle against his face. She truly adored him, no different than any other creature that falls in love with Ais when they cross his path. “So you let her nest in your hair?”

“Nothing is stopping you from making a nest yourself, sparrow.”

You roll your eyes yet again. Ais is the only one alive who can make you feel heavenly tenderness and agitation that burns hotter than any hellfire. “You do realize I’m not a real bird, right?”

Ais opened his eyes and turned his head to fully regard you then. Your heart skipped a beat once, twice, and a third time as he looked you up and down slowly as if caressing you with the sharpness of his eyes. You pulled his yukata tighter around your body, suddenly becoming shy. It was almost hard to breathe when his eyes went warm like that and became lovelier than crimson jewels glittering in the light of golden sunshine.

Ais hummed thoughtfully. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You blink owlishly at him. Then, incensed, you promptly smacked his shoulder, hot irritation and a sickening sense of warmth going to war inside you. “You are so incredibly annoying.”

The bastard began to chuckle, and his new songbird had the gall to chirp alongside him as if she were laughing at your embarrassment too. How dare that cute, feathery homewrecker?

…Okay, maybe you were a little jealous, but you would quite literally swallow a thousand teacup shards than ever admit to that, so you opened your mouth to say something particularly acerbic and snarky when suddenly Ais pursed his lips and whistled a colorful melody, cupping his hands together.

You and the bird both reacted as if Ais plucked the string of some latent instinct in your bodies. The bird fluttered down to rest in his large waiting palms, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in by his gravitational pull and the need to be near him and soak up the rest of his misty heat like a flower drinking the last dredges of summer rain.

You press into his side and watch Ais’s calloused thumbs gently smooth through the dandelion fluff of the bird’s feathers, the little thing happily thrilling all the while, before looking up at his face and feeling your heart melt instantly.

There was a certain radiance to Ais when he cared for something or someone. It was like trailing fingers along the surface of iridescent water, yearning to crack below the glowing surface to discover the beauty underneath. You know what you’ll find in those waters will make you feel whole again.

There was a softness to his gaze, a look you knew he reserved for you and you alone, especially when he thought you weren’t looking, embers sparking from the depths of his eyes, keeping you warm when you couldn’t do it yourself. You wanted him to look at you like that always, and you wanted his hands, the same hands that cradled the singing sparrow with a practiced gentleness, the same hands that held you with the same reverence, to always hold yours until the whole world rotten away.

“She has your eyes,” Ais murmured, resting his cheek on top of your head. You softly snorted but did not offer a rebuttal this time. You can let him have his delusions just this once. “You think she’ll let us keep her?”

You nod, and after he lets the bird fly back to her rightful place upon his head, you let him pull you into his lap. “I don’t see why not. It’s safer here than out there, even if it’s the scariest place I've ever slept in.”

Ais chuckled against the crown of your head, a rich sound that sent decadent shivers up your spine. “Y’know, I never had two singing sparrows live with me before. This is going to be nice.”

You snort softly against his chest. He was pushing it with this ‘who is the real sparrow’ contest. “Uh, what kind of song do I sing? I don’t consider yelling at you all the time to be particularly soothing.”

Ais hummed. “You sing a different kind of song, not the kind made for polite company but for my ears alone. I like how needy you sound when I -“

This was a learning moment to stop taking his bait.

You jerk your head back far enough to make contact with his sternum, and he lets out a short huff of startled breath. You pull his yukata over your face, desperately trying to hide the savage scarlet burning of your cheeks. “I hate you. I’m going back to sleep. Don’t wake me up ever again. Have fun spending time with your new lover.”

Even when struggling to catch his breath, Ais still dared to chuckle at your red-hot embarrassment. You would’ve enjoyed the sound of his laughter if you didn’t want to strangle him to death.

Soon, the sweet melody of birdsong, the torrential storm outside, and Ais’s heartbeat—a firm and steady drumbeat against your ear—lulled you into a soft, safe dream where everything you desired was within reach.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Black Swans

(Chapter 10 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (implied), Smoker x Reader (implied)

Chapter Warnings: language, violence, blood, unprotected vaginal sex, physical abuse, obsessive/toxic relationship

Chapter Synopsis: As Big News Morgans’ spin on you and Doflamingo’s new relationship hits the front pages worldwide, enemies and allies react. The past is also reflected in the present as Doflamingo’s need for you remains a danger for you both.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,   5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10, 11

——————————

—————————— 

It was barely dawn, the perfect time to be going through her morning stretches as Tashigi swung her sword gently. Moving slowly from one stance to another, extending her body and holding her balance in each position as she did so.

Being on deck this early gave her more room, and less snickering from some of the other crew. But still being one of the youngest aboard, she had been working on getting a thicker skin about that kind of teasing. So many of her fellow sailors still only treated her like a little sister at best. 

But, that wasn’t wholly unwarranted either as her glasses slid down her nose and she did nearly fall, ducking as a large bird swooped right past her head abruptly.

And then another, and yet another as she straightened up in surprise while the watchman in the crow’s nest above called down to her. One bird had landed by the swordswoman, but many more were still passing overhead as they were spreading out to the other ships dotting the horizon this close to the island they were patrolling past. 

“Grab it, Tashigi! What’s got the news coos so riled up this morning?” The watchman yelled.

“I’m trying!” She had to push her glasses back up to even see the bird clearly. And it spread its wings a bit impatiently as she did reach and take one of the many papers from its leather pouch before it flew again for its next delivery.

“Well!? Who did what, sword girl!?” The watchman still was calling out loudly.

“Hold on!” She was now fighting to get the paper unfolded in the sea breeze to view the front page as she started to read the headlines first.

“Princess Nefertari Vivi was almost kidnapped!” Tashigi yelled back. “Um, she wasn’t though. And then Warlord Doflamingo got engaged…to her? Huh!?”

“What!?” Some other deckhands shouted in unison from the railings above.

“No, wait my glasses are dirty! That can’t be right…” Tashigi was getting flustered, realizing some of the salt spray of the waves had gotten onto her lenses again.

“Someone take the paper from her!” The watchman shouted back to the other deckhands.

“Why are you all goddamn screaming!?” Smoker barked back at them all then, now coming up the stairs from the galley. 

He had his cigars already in his mouth. A mug of hot coffee still steaming as he carried it in one hand.

“Smoker, sir!” They saluted. “Captain on deck!”

But he was scowling, seeing Tashigi nearly lose the paper to the wind as she’d been trying to clean her glasses against her shirt.

“Just give me that already!” He chided her, snatching the newspaper away with his other hand.

More crew had wandered back to deck at the commotion and were clearly waiting as their captain’s eyes went to that front page.

But everything went silent. Silence except for the wind fluttering against the sails and rigging above. At least until Tashigi abruptly yelped. The young woman having to quickly move her feet away from that splash of scalding hot coffee as Smoker’s cup fell to the deck.

“Smoker-san!?” The others called out in surprise.

Both his hands were gripping the paper now as he quickly turned the pages, glaring eyes slightly widening in disbelief the more he read and saw the pictures that accompanied it. 

“Get me the long distance snail, now!” He yelled back to the crew members still hovering in the doorways.

————————— 

“They are not engaged, Garp. Goddammit quit making this worse!” The Fleet Admiral snapped back at his friend, speaking loudly over the cacophony of snails still ringing throughout the office.

“In our day, if you took a girl’s hand and made a picture like that, that’s an engagement! The little shit knew damn well what he was doing!” Vice Admiral Garp insisted just as stubbornly. “And that’s not the worst. The worst is coming for you. Tsuru tells you to watch out for that girl and now you won’t even let Momonga intervene? You’re just going to have that pink jackass carry her off without a fight!? Tsuru’s going to skin you alive! As she should!”

“Listen to me for once in your wretched life, you idiot! I was specifically ordered to stand by! You think I want to sit here and do nothing!?” Sengoku still argued back, their competing voices more than echoing down the hall at this point. Even before the door had swung open and in come Kizaru and Aokiji to join in on the already chaotic scene.

“Sir, that pirate doesn’t have the authority to do any of this! King of Dressrosa or not.” Aokiji spoke immediately, uncharacteristically awake and even riled this early in the morning as he came to stand before the desk.

That contrast of Aokiji’s strong reaction was all the more stark in comparison to Kizaru’s who merely strode over to the couch against the wall. Taking a comfortable seat there instead as he spoke easily. “Just send me, Fleet Admiral. I’d be in and out in no time to pick her up if Momonga is too worried about the optics of it. They wouldn’t even see me long enough for a photo. Just say she had another assignment that came up is all…simple.”

Sengoku’s currently harsh gaze moved from Aokiji, then to Kizaru before he started to speak in return.

But yet another voice cut through before he could. The last of his three admirals now filling that open doorway, large arms crossed like a wall across his chest. “This mess is what Momonga deserves for letting that woman board his ship in the first place.”

Kizaru only raised a curious eyebrow at those new harsh words, but Aokiji fully pivoted to turn in an instant and face Akainu as they stared one another down.

“Oh, get over it.” Akainu answered in response to that new look of insult on Aokiji’s face. “Every thing that girl touches ends up this way, doesn’t it? Think with your real brain for once, Kuzan. The best thing you ever did for your career was to let that one go.”

Kizaru whistled in reaction to that genuine barb, the very slightest smirk on his face before multiple things happened all at once.

Steam shot to the ceiling as Akainu had raised his forearm to block the incoming ice. The ice which had hit his magma skin then sending scorching heat in all directions as Kizaru disappeared with a yellow flash from the couch.

Aokiji was thrown immediately down before he could even attempt another blast however, Vice Admiral Garp grabbing his former student by the back of the collar and taking him to the floor in one decisive shot like a misbehaving child.

As Aokiji’s chest had slammed to the ground, Kizaru only appeared again at the other side of the room. The yellow suited admiral now holding the bleating pet goat that had previously been in the damage radius of all that steam.

Sengoku sighed loudly as Kizaru walked the unharmed animal back over to him, its little bell ringing while it kicked its legs helplessly before it could be set back down near its master.

Aokiji shifted then, pinned to the ground on his stomach still, and too surprised to properly resist really as Garp’s other hand had twisted the ice admiral’s arm so easily behind his back to further hold him there. 

“Bet you didn’t think this old man could still move that fast, did ya, kid!?” Garp laughed loudly. Not even putting in that much effort to achieve such an iron grip before he did let Aokiji up again once Akainu had reverted back from his magma state.

All this transpiring just before a large part of the now heat damaged ceiling collapsed into a haze of dust and cracked plaster right down onto Sengoku’s new carpet.

The Fleet Admiral’s teeth were fully grit as he pushed his glasses back up his nose while that dust cloud spread. His blood pressure rising with it as his new voice left zero room for further disagreement.

“Here is what we will NOT be doing any further this morning! We are the pride of the goddamn navy! And we will not be instigated into infighting all because of one, spoiled brat of a pirate!”

Garp scoffed, unimpressed and prompting a brief glare of death from Sengoku, who only continued unabated.

“And going forward, none of you three are allowed to engage Doflamingo without my explicit approval!” His eyes locked directly onto Aokiji’s in that moment as well. 

Intel had of course gotten back to Sengoku by now of Kuzan’s unsanctioned trip to the warlord’s residence on Sabaody. Sengoku hadn’t known the extent of things then. But Doflamingo’s new behavior in addition to Aokiji’s reaction to it were now more than enough to make this picture of jealousy clear. “And if these orders are disregarded, strongest disciplinary measures will absolutely follow!”

And all three admirals gave varying signals of surprise to those words. At least seeming to agree on one thing, that the choice of inaction was never the preferred path when faced with a pirate’s clear disrespect of the uniform.

And Sengoku’s voice did lower again even as he still seethed. His hands were far more tied than they could ever understand. Not until one of them finally sat in this chair one day.

“This comes straight from Mariejois as well. The government is intending to milk this fiasco as a public distraction I’m sure.” It was already being framed as some goddamn fairytale thing. A king publicly falling for a soldier, or more specifically a sailor in your case. 

But Big News Morgans had to go above and beyond even that interpretation as always. 

In Morgans’ version, you were actually the knight out there saving your princesses. A subversion of the normal children’s archetypes. And King Doflamingo had taken notice, now choosing you the knight instead of said princesses. 

The only thing Sengoku truly couldn’t tell his men was that a warning of this very thing had already happened, years ago. And that both himself and Tsuru had clearly misjudged the longevity of that danger.

She was going to be furious, just as Garp had said. But more at herself than anyone.

Because Rosinante had insisted to them many times that tragedy would be the result if they didn’t keep you far enough from his brother’s influence. 

You were only one of many topics that had come fast and desperate in those shorter and shorter phone calls before the end. But one that the marines would now be forced to face as their own failure once more. 

—————————— 

You could walk again at last. But with that return of feeling also came terrible pain. Your thigh ached all the way to the bone, skin pulling against those makeshift, string sutures with every step. It was all you could do not to visibly limp as you’d walked past all those leering pirates on either side of you while you boarded Doflamingo’s ship.

Your head was still held high, rope dart weapon wrapped on one shoulder, and your long marine coat moving behind you in the last of that Scyllian breeze.

The characters on the back of your coat read boldly as “justice” in stark contrast to the struck through, smiling jolly roger now being hoisted above you to shadow the deck below.

The Donquixote pirates had concealed their ship’s true ownership when arriving. But there was now no further need for discretion, especially in the spectacle that this morning had already become.

No, you knew full well that Doflamingo wanted those reporters on the dock to document his victory while his banner flew proudly above your head. Every additional photo from their flashing cameras having to be something you chose to ignore as you did your best not to falter before so much public scrutiny.

But even you didn’t have the mental endurance right now to stay above deck for long after. As soon as you felt you’d put on enough of a show of indifference, and that the camera lenses were too far at last to reach you, you’d disappeared down the first set of stairs you’d found.

Down into the tight wooden hallways of someone else’s ship as you put your back to the wall and finally trembled. 

Whether from mostly anger, or exhaustion, or still just plain shock, you couldn’t separate the emotions trying to overcome you anymore.

The pirates did keep their distance from you then at least. You suspected that they’d been strictly ordered to. No one following you into that dimly lit hallway but their captain himself. 

The small space feeling all the more claustrophobic then as you looked up into those reflective red sunglasses while his large palm splayed on the wall above your head.

Pink feathers brushed against you in that closeness. His scent so apparent again as you tried not to stare at his bared chest from beneath the now open coat and shirt.

He was back in full form now, body heat radiating as he bent in enough to speak against your ear. 

“You did well…I’m proud of you. But it’s enough now. No one’s going to hurt you here.” And yet even as he said that, his other hand was feeling up across your injured thigh. 

You did wince without being able to help it at even that light pressure, and you heard Doflamingo’s resulting smile in those words which stayed contrastingly soft beside your ear. “My wounded little bird…come rest those wings with me. You have no reason to fly anymore.”

And you knew what he was going to do before he did it. He’d done this last night as well when helping you out of the ballroom when you still couldn’t walk.  

You heard him chuckle too as your arms went around his neck instinctively this time. Making it easier on yourself to not be jostled as much while one of his arms went behind your knees and the other behind your back as he lifted you up to carry you the rest of the way down the hall.

All the way to the captain’s quarters as his strings had pulled the door handle down. His knee easily nudged the door open before he carried you across the threshold into his bedroom.

You heard the door shut and lock behind you almost immediately. Likely his strings doing it all now even as he kept carrying you straight to that oversized bed.

He clearly preferred these luxuries, even at sea as your back was finding his plush mattress soon after.

And he was still smiling, reveling in this really while you watched him push his sunglasses up as you now laid beneath him. He let those glasses rest in his blond hair, exposing his then prideful eyes so soon to you again before he leaned back down to kiss you.

You were absolutely done by then. You’d never slept last night. You’d never had a chance. Awake the entire time, arguing and then eventually pleading to Vice Admiral Momonga. You didn’t understand why nothing could be done. You knew Momonga had called Sengoku. That they had argued too. But nothing had changed.

All your things had still ended up offloaded from Momonga’s ship and handed over to actual pirates instead with the simple report that you were indeed being assigned to Dressrosa for now. Effective immediately and with Doflamingo gloating all the while as he had never left your side last night. He hadn’t slept either, just having his servants pack back up the villa that you’d only briefly gone back to to clean yourself and change before this walk of shame to port this morning.

And now here you were. In a bed with him all over again as he kissed and stroked you. But with a rare gentleness that you were sure was only temporary and brought on solely from his current high of success.

You’d let him slide that coiled rope dart right off your shoulder. Your weapon placed onto the nightstand before he’d untied and slid your boots off for you as well. Then kicking those curved black shoes off his own feet before he pulled his legs back up to further ensnare your body as you lay together.

With his arms holding you too, you disappeared a bit into all those soft feathers of his coat. But he kept his face against yours in the open air above all that pink. Still smiling even as he let his eyes already start to close.

“Sleep for now, love… We won. And we’ll be home soon.” The demon promised. 

———————————

“Hey, what’s he doing now? He was the one telling us last night that we’d have to hurry before we’d miss the tide this morning!” The boy with the orca shaped hat exclaimed.

“I don’t know, he’s been staring at that stupid paper since we left him here earlier.” The other boy with the penguin hat answered.

They were fussing amongst themselves, struggling to carry all the supplies they’d purchased in town as they made their way back to the cove.

Their equally young, teenage captain was currently sitting on a rock near the water’s edge. The crew’s yellow submarine listing gently as high tide began to recede around it. This morning’s news coo paper still in his hands.

“Um, Captain?” The polar bear mink that had been walking beside the other two boys asked almost timidly next, sitting his own supplies he’d been carrying down into the sand before he moved forward. 

Law’s eyes shifted, coldly glancing to the side at his friend as the bear approached.

Bepo squirmed immediately under that stare, but didn’t give up yet. “The tide’s going out…we won’t be able to clear the rocks if we wait…”

“I know that. It’ll be another twelve hours until the water’s deep enough again.” Law sighed at last, that stiffness in his shoulders breaking somewhat.

“Sooo…are we’re staying here then?” Penguin questioned with a head tilt.

“No, get in the damn submarine!” Law stood from off of the rock, the newspaper now rolled in his hand as if he might smack them with it.

“What are you so moody for!? We’re getting in the sub!” Penguin whined, nearly running into Shachi as they both clamored to get back onto the deck of the Polar Tang in such a rush now.

But Bepo held back, fidgeting a little as Law still stood there in the sand.

While the others loaded the vessel, the mink noticed how his captain had already unrolled that paper again. At least enough that even Bepo could now see the tall blond man in one of the main headline photos. That man’s eyes concealed by a red mask, but his smile entirely unsettling. At least to someone like Bepo as that man also held a woman’s hand who was so close to him in the photo.

“She looks afraid.” Bepo said before he could help himself. Noticing that detail too, even where someone else may not have. It looked like a nice, even loving picture of a couple otherwise. Except for the man’s off putting smile and the woman’s concerned eyes.

Law’s chest rose and fell, he looked to the ground a moment before staring back to the bear. “He’s the pirate I used to work for, Bepo. He’ll do anything to get what he wants. I’ve seen him do it.” Law’s voice actually even wavered there, just for a moment at least before that emotion was buried again.

Bepo’s dark eyes widened though, picking up on that too before a warm paw went onto his captain’s shoulder then.

For once, Law did allow that attempt at comfort too. Only bristling slightly, but not pulling away as he revealed even more. It was so rare for him to talk about his last pirate crew. Yet when he did, these negative feeling always tried to force their way out of him.

“I thought she looked familiar.” Law said. “But I saw her name and then it finally clicked. Corazon…the guy I told you about. He tried to help her too once. To keep her away from him. But Doflamingo always wins. Even after this long. Just like he got Dressrosa. Just like he got immunity with the government.” 

Law sneered then as well, almost in a mirror to that strange smile from the photo in the paper in that moment. “What kind of karma is that, Bepo!? Why can someone like him just keep getting his way every time!? While people like Cora…they just disappear. They just get erased and forgotten!”

“But you didn’t forget Cora.” Bepo answered so sincerely then. Bravely really, and with no hesitation as Law stared at the mink in return.

Law scowled as his bottom lip shifted just a single time before he pulled away. As if it had wanted to quiver. “Yeah. I didn’t. But we’ve got a long way to go before I can do a thing about it.” 

And he’d stormed off at that to help the others finish loading the submarine before the tide would leave them. Bepo then hurrying faithfully behind him as they regathered the stack of supplies now falling over into the sand.

——————————-

But later that same day, after the supplies had all been packed away and the course to the next town fully set, Law had still slipped back away from the other boys. Further into the submarine under just the excuse of sitting to practice his powers again.

They hadn’t even left the North Blue yet. They didn’t even have a real crew yet. Not in his critical mind at least. They were still just kids sailing around in this submarine that Wolf had gifted them.

Everything right now was just the very first building blocks to the dream Law had had…or the nightmare rather. The things he wanted to accomplish one day with this second life that Cora had given to him.

But he hadn’t been ready to feel these emotions again so soon, nor had he realized how raw it all still was for him. Not until the very moment he’d seen Doflamingo’s hungry grin on that newspaper this morning, 

A monster that was still feeding on others even now, still taking, never sated as he only ruined one additional life after another. It was the same kind of destruction that Cora had given everything to spare Law from.

And as the boy sat there alone, making small rooms atop the table with the movements of his hand, that newspaper and its triggering images still lay before him.

There was finally a shine of wetness in Law’s eyes then, no one else to see it now before another flick of his fingers had that paper levitating before him. Just for a moment before he jerked those same fingers to have one of his pencils shooting right into the newspaper. It stabbed a hole straight through the throat of that man he still hated this intensely. 

It was like being there all over again though. Law remembered exactly who you were now. It’s not that he particularly cared about you as an individual of course, you were just another victim in a sea of the same. But the difference to him, was how clearly your capture showcased Doflamingo’s true tenacity. That devil’s willingness to play the long game every time.

Because it’d been so long since Corazon had spoken of you. All that time that Doflamingo could have fully moved on to literally any other obsession with anyone else. But true insanity didn’t work that way. And Corazon had understood, and thereby feared that part of his brother more than anyone.

——————————

It had been several years ago. The Donquixote crew celebrating as they always did whenever narrowly escaping Vice Admiral Tsuru’s warship. Partaking in their usual routine once returning safely to their hideout in the North Blue.

But that night had still been different. Doflamingo had been different. The change even noticeable to Law. The young boy, pale and tired sitting on a torn blanket on the floor as he dismantled and cleaned each of the many guns one by one that the older crew members had handed off to him. His assigned task that Buffalo was supposed to assist him with, but somehow never did.

Baby 5 had been giggling, also skirting her normal post mission responsibilities, playing instead in one of the treasure boxes. One of the heavy chests that Senor Pink and Gladius had just dropped on the middle of the floor before they went back outside for more.

Law knew that Buffalo and Baby 5 often got additional leniency in exchange for the usefulness of their powers in battle. But Law had nothing like that. Just his brain and his aching hands, the amber lead spots larger on his skin every passing year as he still cleaned the guns dutifully.

Doflamingo himself was sitting in the leather armchair nearby. One glass of red wine after another downed. Not participating in any of that tedious manual labor of course, but smirking at Baby 5 all the same as she’d run over to him with a gold crown she’d found in all the loot even that quickly.

“Young master! This is for you!” She beamed, with some oversized, jeweled necklaces already hanging down her dress nearly to her knees as well while she offered the headpiece only to him.

That was when Law had first realized the odd mood the Donquixote leader was really in as he’d leaned down all the way, having to bend at his waist to bow his head enough for Baby 5 to crown him, her arms fully outstretched and on her tip toes as she did.

And once that crown was on his head, he cocked it slightly to the side intentionally, straightening back up with a grin as Baby 5 curtsied before him. “Your majesty!” She giggled again, then running back to the additional treasure boxes as Senor Pink and Gladius had returned with yet another one behind it.

Buffalo grew interested in all that gleaming gold too of course. The larger boy and Baby 5 starting to then bicker over some stupid antique coins they’d found, before they’d dropped them all and some went rolling.

Law was still most intent on their leader though, too used to the other children’s immaturity already. He had seen Doflamingo look over to Corazon next who was seated on the couch beside the master’s chair having a smoke.

“What do you think, little brother? Too much or not enough?” Doflamingo was outright fishing for compliments then, wine glass still sloshing in his other hand as he motioned to the crown. 

But cigarette smoke was all that came out from the other Donquixote in a silent puff as usual, Corazon shrugging before stretching out his lanky legs across the floor without much opinion.

The pirate captain only looked somewhat disappointed at that lack of reaction, before an interruption of annoying laughter had both brothers looking back to the doorway anyway.

“Behehe! It really suits you, Doffy!” Trebol barged in then, with Diamante close enough behind him through the door. Something white was folded in Diamante’s hands. “But we’ve finished unloading the ship now, and we have one more surprise for you!” Trebol declared.

Of course Doflamingo’s eyes could not be seen beneath those red glasses. But Law had noticed the way Corazon’s eyes had instantly widened, if ever so briefly as that white fabric was unfurled from Diamante’s grip.

Doflamingo too had straightened up in his seat at the reveal however, cruel smile reforming across his face so instantaneously. “Oh? And who exactly did that get ripped away from?”

It was a marine coat. The standard issue, long and white. At least formerly white, with small blood stained holes and rips now marring it here and there. Particularly where one sleeve had partially separated at the shoulder.

“Well, Doffy, you’d told us you’d seen that girl again this morning. But only through the spyglass when she was with Tsuru.” Diamante now spoke, wearing a wide smile of his own from almost ear to ear. “And this afternoon while you were indeed occupied with Tsuru, we found the girl again on our own. They were trying to sneak up on us from behind. Between Trebol and a I, we were able to separate her from her colleagues.” At that, Diamante tossed the coat across the room in one smooth movement.

Doflamingo caught it easily, but still watching his officers. 

“My apologies though.” Diamante added. “I did have her by the back. But she still slipped right out of it. She’s quite fast. We knew you’d still appreciate the trophy regardless though. But I assure you we won’t miss such an opportunity again.”

And even still being that much younger then, Law remembered the way his stomach had oddly turned as Doflamingo’s long fingers had probed through one of the bloody holes in that fabric, finger curling alongside his ever darkening smile. As the Donquixote captain’s head had tilted, he’d pumped his fingers briefly through that blood stained tear as well, as if in test. “So this is really hers?”

“It is.” Trebol assured, voice also different then  in a way that had made Law completely forget the gun oil still in his hands.

Law almost spilled the bottle of that oil actually as Doflamingo had suddenly pressed that collar and the shoulders of the dirty coat to his face, taking an audible inhale of whatever scent may still remain from its owner.

Law had never seen a person actually do such a thing. And Corazon was staring as well as Doflamingo began to laugh, one fist still clutched into that coat as his white teeth gleamed in real pleasure.

His laugh was loud and shaking up from within that deep place those most intense ones came from. Enough so that even Baby 5 and Buffalo had finally stopped their bickering, silencing as they looked to the young master.

“Well done. All of you.” Doflamingo finally managed. And he’d spread his legs as he leaned back in the chair, yet another glass of wine soon down his throat as he let that coat lay across his lap. 

His cheeks were actually slightly flushed by then, whether from the intense laughter or all the alcohol. He was not himself.

At least not the Doflamingo that Law had long learned to both respect and fear as Corazon had also seemed uncomfortable, watching his brother as well. 

Staring enough that Doflamingo had finally looked back to Corazon. Those red lenses reflecting the light, some other king’s crown still  caught in his spiked blond hair.

“Don’t be so judgmental, Corazon…don’t you want your brother to be happy?” And there was still an edge to those words, almost a challenge.

And suddenly Doflamingo had stood. He grabbed the wine bottle itself as he did. Not the glass. He turned that entire bottle up, his adam’s apple moving up and down with the sound of the remaining liquid leaving the bottle as he drank every last drop. 

He left the empty bottle as it fell. Just the coat was still in his hand as he walked, but his other hand grabbing Corazon by the back of the neck as Doflamingo had passed behind the couch.

Corazon did nothing to fight back, nor did he react with any surprise. Still smoking his cigarette as he tilted his head back for them to then look at one another as Doflamingo loomed over him.

“Tsuru thinks I won’t have that girl…but I will. And you two can both be wrong together then.” He was smiling wide again, before he leaned down. That cruel mouth nearly against his younger brother’s ear before he whispered something else into it.

Law could only watch as Corazon’s breathing stilled at whatever those words were, an unreadable look in the Donquixote officer’s red eyes before that moment had passed just as quickly.

Doflamingo then shoved Corazon abruptly by the neck as he rose back to his full height. Seemingly just taunting his little brother all the more. But rough enough as Corazon, clumsy as he was anyway, nearly fell forward off of the couch. Embers dropped from his cigarette to sear little spots into the top of his pants.

And Doflamingo just watched as his only blood family tried to sit back up and brush off those hot embers simultaneously before they could burn him. 

“I’m going to bed.” The captain did announce to everyone though, pulling at his pants a little as he did, like they were bothering him. His face still seemed somewhat flushed. “You all do whatever the fuck you want.” 

“But it’s only nine.” Buffalo said somewhat stupidly. Normally all their drinking and eating after successful missions went well into the night.

“He didn’t say he was going to sleep.” Diamante grinned.

None of the kids understood this part of it then.

But Doflamingo only chuckled, truly a little drunk by then and fully unashamed as he carried that coat with the marine girl’s blood and scent on it into his bedroom and slammed the door.

Corazon had stood up not long after as well, looking somewhat stricken still and flashing a piece of paper to the room that said he was going out for a walk.

Law had ended up following him too. Not immediately of course, but long enough after. When the other adults were too drunk to give a damn where anyone else might disappear off to.

Things had already started to change between himself and Corazon by then. Corazon knew about the D. in his name. And Law knew that Corazon could actually speak.

So when he did find the younger Donquixote, far from the hideout and sitting on a pile of scrap metal in the moonlight, Law hadn’t wasted any time.

“What the hell is going on with the captain? He was being weird all day.” The boy fussed abruptly.

And Corazon had immediately startled, nearly dropping his cigarette as he glared back to Law. 

But he also saw Corazon look around. Very carefully in fact before suddenly the ocean waves in the distance could no longer be heard.

“Is everybody else passed out already then?” Corazon still spoke low, even while using his devil fruit power.

“Well yeah, I’m not stupid.” Law retorted, the chip on his own shoulder still so big at that time in his life.

“Strongly disagree.” Corazon deadpanned anyway, taking another drag on his cigarette. “You wouldn’t be out here otherwise, kid.”

And of course Law snapped right back, more of that young petulance front and center. “Well you’re out here! So you’re as dumb as anyone!”

And that painted smile had spread a little there. Corazon looking down at him again. This time, not hardly as cold. “Heh. You don’t know the half of it.” But he did flick his cigarette, letting some of the ash fall before he put that bad habit right back up to his lips.

He mustn’t have felt like arguing right now though. He’d looked more tired than normal even for Corazon. “And as I know you won’t damn go to bed until you’re satisfied…fine. Let’s talk. The answer is that my big bro is having a rough day today. He’s got marriage on his mind.”

“What!?” Law had stammered immediately.

Loud and abrupt enough that Corazon had almost dropped his cigarette again. “Stop doing that!”

“Then stop saying stupid things! Our captain’s not going to marry anybody! Did you fall and hit your head again, Corazon!?”

“Well…maybe. But calm the hell down! Trust me, that word has an entirely different meaning for Doffy. It’s not a nice thing.”

“Huh?”

And Corazon sighed. “Look, do you swear you’ll go back inside and go to bed if I tell you this? You need to quit damn worshipping him anyway. Maybe you’ll start to believe me for once.”

“Okay, I swear.” Law had just said without hesitation.

“Quit holding your fingers behind your back you little jerk.”

“I wasn’t!” Law lied.

Corazon rolled his eyes. “You’re too young to understand anyway. But my brother doesn’t just like things. He owns them. He controls them. And if he really likes something, then hell…it’s over.”

“What?”

“See! You are just a dumb kid!”

“I am not! It’s not my fault you can’t explain anything for crap!”

And Corazon groaned. “Okay. I’ll give you an example. Your parents were both doctors right? So you know how bodies work? ….But have you ever held a bird? Especially a really small one? Did you know they don’t have a diaphragm?”

Law’s eyebrows had lowered in more confusion. But yes…he actually did know that from old biology lessons. But he was shocked that Corazon would. And he still didn’t understand how it had anything to do with the topic at hand.

“Well what happens to something without a diaphragm if you put pressure on its chest?” Corazon asked next.

And Law did have to think about it, just still completely caught off guard in the random turns of this conversation. He knew exactly what the muscle of the diaphragm did. It was used for expansion and contraction of the chest, allowing the lungs to inhale and exhale.

But birds used a combination of air sacs with rib movements to achieve similar if he remembered right. But without the strength of a diaphragm, the force they had available to expand their own chest would be much less. So he quickly reasoned that a strong enough external pressure would stop that movement completely. They’d be helpless.

“It…wouldn’t be able to breathe?” Law answered, still unsure if these were the pieces he was supposed to connect.

And Corazon did blink. “Yeah…I guess you’re not so dumb after all.”

But before Law could fully react to that additional teasing, Corazon had looked far more serious.

It was an expression that actually made Law nervous again. Because both of the Donquixote brothers had a similar way their facial muscles stilled when they were really considering something.

And it was intimidating. Even on someone like Corazon.

But the man had already seemed to make up his mind to say even more though as he eventually kept on. “Well, we weren’t always pirates you know. When we were just kids, we did have some pets. I guess that wasn’t too weird compared to everything else. But Doffy had a favorite. See…our mother had these birds, swans actually. And then those birds had babies. But only one liked Doffy. This little black one that never bit him.”

And Corazon sighed then, fully putting out what was left of his cigarette as he shoved the butt into the dirt beneath the scrap metal pile. His broad shoulders had sank somewhat. “So can you guess what happened to that little bird, kid?”

Law just stared for a moment, but finally nodded. Corazon’s somber body language making it all too clear as Law watched the man stand then.

But somehow Law still felt like he had to say it out loud. Because this was the lesson that Corazon had wanted him to understand. The only reason all of this was being confessed at all.

“He held it too hard…he killed it.” Law spoke into the darkness.

And Corazon’s eyes were pained. Proving that this conversation was also about far more than a child’s one time mistake. “And he’s never learned since.” The lanky man replied before he had started to walk, Law still following behind him as he did.

It wasn’t really a conscious thing yet to want to stay together. Neither of them fully realizing that shift in allegiance already beginning in the boy.

“Hey, Corazon…” Law did look back up at him after a while too.

“Yeah?”

“What did your brother whisper to you back there to make you run off? You looked really weird when you heard it.”

And Corazon scoffed. “I already told you. He’s got the future on his mind. He thinks he needs to check some certain boxes once we’re in the New World. And she’s one of those boxes. You really don’t want to know what the rest was about though. Let’s just say it must be flamingo breeding season whenever she’s around and leave it at that.”

“Ew! That’s gross! You’re not supposed to tell me that!” Even then Law was pretty sure you weren’t that much older than him. And he did know how reproduction actually occurred. He knew in the context of old medical textbooks at least.

“Well then don’t ask! That’s your wonderful leader, kid.”

The now former leader who was still smiling this many years later, so disconcerting in that newspaper as Law continued to glower down at his pierced photo in the present day. 

And the more Law stared at that image of you and Doflamingo, the more he realized that the black feathers in the mask you wore were the same as a little bird’s who had stopped moving within a child’s hand once. 

The same black feathers that had been stained with so much blood in the snow as Corazon had also taken his last breath.

Doflamingo was now on his third black swan.

——————————— 

Something was tickling your cheek as you finally opened your eyes and lifted your head slightly within the feathers. 

The haze of sleep was slow to recede as you tried to get your bearings.

A heavy arm was over your back. Those pink feathers encircling you as you tried to silently blow away the loose one that had landed on your face.

It all carried his scent. Those expensive colognes you hated to admit you were already becoming used to. He didn’t always wear the same one. But you could pick any of them out immediately by now.

And you assumed you’d see those bicolored eyes of his watching you hungrily as always when you’d finally glanced up from your place against his warm chest. 

But you did pause at the view that met you instead this time.

Doflamingo’s eyes were closed, lean face relaxed. His lips were parted as he breathed audibly, deep and steady. The red sunglasses were still barely hanging on in his hair where he’d left them, completely skewed now and almost endearing in that lack of care.

He was absolutely out.

And you could not stop staring, a bit in awe at how truly different he looked this way.

One of your hands was still on his chest as you realized in this new stillness that you could even feel his heartbeat beneath your splayed palm.

You bit your lip slightly in your further odd reaction, the responding warmth and tightness in your own chest making little sense.

Of course he had a heart to move his blood around. Of course he couldn’t hold those face muscles into a look of cruelty even in his sleep. 

But he looked younger like this. He looked like a man that would have had real friends. A man that would have woken with a real smile for you, and never would have hurt you.

An extremely pretty lie once more.

Gently, you removed those sunglasses from his hair regardless, sitting them quietly on the nightstand before they would fall to the mattress. You sat those infamous glasses on top of your weapon there beside the bed. Not missing the significance of those barriers both being set aside willfully now.

And you laid back down as gently as you could afterward. His bare chest still your unexpected refuge while his rhythmic breathing never changed. 

It should have made you even angrier, that he could do so much to you and still sleep this soundly. No guilt to be had in him at all.

But it was far more complicated than just this. He was both the cause and the relief to so much pain as your eyes had soon closed again. 

—————————— 

The transponder snails in his quarters must have all been put on do not disturb that morning. Because you and that warlord did sleep half the day together like that. 

The first thing you’d remembered next was him finally stretching. That warm torso you were still pressed against tensing and then relaxing again as you felt large hands starting to roam over you. It felt like he was checking how much clothing you were still wearing actually.

Which was all of it. Both of you had only taken off your shoes before passing out here. And you did contemplate feigning like you were still asleep to see how much longer he would leave you alone.

But it was quickly pointless. A hand was then beneath your marine coat and starting to tug your skirt down from your hip already as you grabbed his wrist in response. 

Your injured thigh was still so sensitive of course. You were trying to protect it as your sudden movement did earn a chuckle from him. “Relax. I’m not going to open up your wound…though you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d quit trying to save every brat you come across.” He both greeted and chided you simultaneously as you’d awoken.

“They were going to kill her.” You argued, albeit without much bite to it yet as you were still not fully awake.

“Maybe…probably.” He smiled at your lingering sleepy tone. “But it happens every day, love. Much easier just to focus on your own family going forward and leave it at that.”

And you felt your skirt being pushed up then instead. Him changing the tactic slightly, but still clear on his intent to get that fabric out of his way. “I still think you’d like one of your own.” He said next though. Voice just as taunting while his fingers were now playing with the sides of your underwear.

“I already have a family,” you said plainly, but still not really looking at him.

“I don’t mean our crews and you know it.” His tone darkened some at that, his grin back all at once as his hands grabbed you by the arms.

And before you could fully process, he had pulled you even closer to bury his face into the collar of your white marine coat. Fully into the fabric while you heard him breathe you in. 

The sound was like an animal, catching onto a scent it so desperately wanted more of. And he stilled for that moment, only breathing in your body and warmth. Like your coat itself was triggering him as much as anything. Stirring up something even older as his voice finally came out again, albeit far more stressed. “Have I told you how very many times I’ve wanted to rip this uniform right off of you…”

You cursed though as he bit your fucking coat without warning after, right over your chest. That switch in him had flipped again. Something you had yet to learn to fully predict.

The pressure from his jaw still badly pinched your soft breast even underneath the layers of fabric. His saliva coming off that long tongue as he only released the bite long enough to move your coat further open. 

And when it was, he then had that wet maw back on just your shirt instead. He was sucking your breast even through the thin fabric. Bra also be damned as one of his hands did reach under your shirt to roughly push those cups up and out of the way before he bit down yet again.

“No.” He said, short and harsh then. Lifting his mouth just enough to scold you as you’d tried to of course push his face back away at the pain. “This is what I need….I’ve thought of the day I could really bring you home. I’ve wanted it so much…”

And you couldn’t possibly understand. 

But that already growing bulge was tightening behind the bright capris pants as he pushed his still clothed erection between your legs next.

Your shirt was now sticking, wet over your breast as he started gradually thrusting as well. Almost fucking you without actually fucking you as your hands gripped into his hair in the growing pain.

If he thought this was somehow less rough than the real thing, he was fully wrong. All that pressure on top of your wounded leg, and against the bruises from bullets that had never pierced your skin. It was almost intolerable.

But he was spiraling quickly into his own problems, his own memories regardless. With his tongue then fully hanging out, he’d now jerked your underwear down your legs.

Your skirt was already bunched up around your waist. While the tented front of his pants ground against your then exposed slit as he groaned, tongue only briefly receding with his additional words. 

“Why do you always do this to me…” He questioned, real irritation forming in that odd tone as his fingers started to claw at the drawstrings of his waistband all the same. Like he just wanted to shred them too in his growing impatience. “Fucking making me so hard it hurts…then goddamn running away all those times. I hated it so much.”

And he had risen back up, your hands falling away from him as he used both his own to pull his pants down. Open and loose around his ass then as his already precum smeared cock moved out into the air.

You made a pitiful sound of course as that wide head of it was immediately being drug between your folds instead. He had his hand around his shaft as he pressed the tip of himself against your clit and started so roughly rubbing the two against one another.

“You know how often I had to pump this goddamn cock for you?” He still asked, sounding angrier all the while. Even as he was edging your entrance and stroking his own shaft simultaneously. “I wanted you…but you started fucking marines instead. So I had to go fuck so many nobodies and a goddamned prick who still backstabs me every chance he gets.”

And you were starting to pant, hurting so badly as he was no longer paying any attention to his weight on your wounds while he straddled and berated you with this escalating nonsense. 

“I didn’t even know you then!” You finally yelled back at him.

“And whose fault was that!? I was waiting for you!” He just snapped in return, just as he did push inside of you, making you cry out as always as you stretched.

But he still laughed even on top of that, starting to pump his hips as his hands grabbed tightly to your body beneath him. His fingernails dug in for purchase as he started fucking you harder and harder.

“Regardless…we’ve still got to make up for lost time…Scylla was just the beginning. You owe me so much more.” He hissed, the bed shaking in rhythm with his pounding into you. 

That pink feather coat was still over his shoulders. Enveloping the two of you on either side as his animalistic drive showed no hint of slowing.

You were outright gasping in pain, and it was only encouraging him. 

But the thing that finally put you over the edge was when you felt a new wetness beneath your leg. Warm and red as those string stitches gave up at last.

He had broken his word and done exactly what he’d said he would not do. Too rough, too needy, too much all at once.

The blood was pooling to stain your white coat still beneath you as your body then reacted on its own accord. His mind was too far gone in this current tangent, seemingly needing to torture you for crimes you couldn’t even know.  

So you snapped on him in return.

Your fist slammed into Doflamingo’s bare abdomen so incredibly hard. Compressing it violently, with haki crackling out even the other side of his back as he hadn’t had a single defense ready for you.

The gasp that came out of him was full of spit and even bile from his stomach as he crumpled forward.

His cock was still inside you as time seemed to stop. But the way his body reflexively pulled in on itself, and the way his arms came up defensively with his head ducked beneath them was still something you’d never seen from him before.

Because his mind hadn’t known he was in danger, he’d had no warlord level fight response ready. By surprising him that fully, you’d seen almost a cowering posture if for just that single instant in that man.

A body language you knew immediately as you’d experienced it in the past yourself. In that moment, you actually saw the muscle memory from someone who’d been beaten before. An abuse survivor who’d grown into an abuser themselves.

That final thought weighed heavy in your mind before time restarted.

Strings jerked your arms viciously, holding them away so hard that your joints burned. Burned and stretched so that you could not possibly block before his own armament infused strike came down across the side of your face in return. The sound of the crack echoing through the room as you spit blood over the pillowcase.

You swallowed reflexively, moving nothing else but your eyes as you stared back up at him then panting above you with his fist still clenched.

Spit and the smallest bit of vomit was on his chin, his eyes wide and staring down at you.

But then he’d seen it at last. The red growing beneath you both on the bed.

——————————

Doflamingo was still in shock, mind trying to catch up when he realized how wet his leg really felt. For the briefest moment he’d thought you’d somehow stabbed him as well. He truly didn’t understand. 

Arousal and adrenaline and confusion were all one big knot in his mind as he still felt like he needed to puke from the force of that surprise uppercut straight into his guts.

And by comparison, you were calm. Lying motionless beneath him even after all of this. As hard as he’d hit you in return, your eyes were still clear and sharp. You were waiting for him to catch up on the situation. One animal watching another.

And finally he did have that higher moment of clarity.

“Goddammit,” he breathed at last, wiping the mess from his own chin with the back of his hand. That adrenaline which had been burning through his chest then changing to a more complicated feeling once again when he realized what he had done. 

He’d misjudged his strings’ longevity on another person’s body was what it came down to. The makeshift sutures’ hold was apparently not as good when on anyone else but the String-String user themselves.

It wasn’t like he ever did this for others to really know any better though. His strings were for cutting down foes, not for mending his treasure.

And all he could do right now was replace them. Fresh strings as he ran his fingers over your wound yet again, smearing that new blood as he laced you back together. He’d just have to keep changing them until reaching Dressrosa now. He didn’t have a good enough doctor on board to handle this otherwise

Not one that he’d trust you to anyway.

And only when the blood flow had stopped again did he finally look back to your face. You still watched him quietly with blood staining down your chin. Some had even run to drip onto your throat now. 

He hadn’t held back when he’d hit you. 

And the composure you maintained, even with his strings glistening tight against your arms and all that blood remaining across your leg and down your chin made it impossible for him to lose his erection. He hadn’t even pulled fully out.

“I didn’t keep my word.” Doflamingo finally admitted however, still hard as anything between his legs as he watched you below him.

But his desire couldn’t be overstated. Every memory, every need, and all the times he’d laid awake fucking his own hand or whatever remnants he could find of you while just thinking of tearing you down one day. That had stayed with him so much more than even he had realized.

You were a fantasy become real. He didn’t know what else to do.

“I felt it ripping open…I just reacted.” Was what you said at last though. Not emotional, not accusing, just telling him why you’d done what you did.

And he did smirk at your straight forward approach. Oh, you were absolutely still a wounded little bird to him. But you now had so violently just reminded him that this little bird would still bite.

You were so unlike the random, pretty strangers that normally passed through his bed and cowered all the while. But also different than the indefinite danger of conquests like Crocodile who may “bite” him the entire encounter unless properly muzzled.

You were a blend somewhere in between those two extremes. Soft enough that he would still trust sleeping beside you and offering you his blind side. Because somehow he did know that you didn’t actually loathe him by now. And you had that core code of honor as well still dictating your every life choice. 

But you were also hard enough that there was still a line there somewhere that he would have to keep exploring. A boundary in you that when crossed, his little bird would absolutely turn and try to take a piece out of him.

Yes, everything happening now was actually only cementing his belief in having made the correct choice to take you with him at last. 

And as that heat pulled back into his chest, he moved his hand again. Releasing you from his strings that he knew you’d still been using haki to not be cut by.

You must be in a lot of pain right now.

“I can finish without pressing down on you…” He assured again.

His stomach still hurt as well as he slowly began to pump in and out of you once more, albeit actually controlling himself this time even as he smiled through the pain. His thighs he spread wide enough so that they were not against you any longer as he held his weight off of your body as well. Only his cock was still sliding in and out of you in a near gentle rhythm.

“We’re both going to cum, lover…and then we’re going to have a warm bath together.” He said as his newest promise. One he could actually keep this time as his thumb moved affectionately back over your clit. 

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stand up long in the shower right now. So drawing a bath after this was the very inviting alternative. His quarters had both options.

And he didn’t fucking care if sitting too deep in the bathwater would make him feel weak by the curse of his devil fruit. He still wanted the privilege of doing it with you. He wanted to be the one to wipe away that blood that he’d made you spill, and almost tenderly clean his mate for the spotlight that would surely now be awaiting you both in Dressrosa.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[draigonboother]

It rained today. Outside the window, the rush of cars and wind and people running across streets yelling, the translucent darkness of the night seeping past the sliver of curtains. During the day, the air cold and crisp and gray: rain-slick pavement, rustling trees with darkened bark, wet leaves half-decomposed, mottled, pressed flat against the concrete. Strikingly beautiful, almost startling so. Has it always been this way, the groups of people laughing, their faces flushed with cold, the blooming flowers, the air fresh and languid and clean. Boots with shiny leather. Cold hands. Shoes soaked, hems damp, numb feet. Has it always been this way — the beauty of it all, of this, of everything. Red lights at dusk. Silvery puddles reflecting iridescent fragments of sky. During the day, the windows clear, misted over with raindrops: the pale light, the washed-out buildings, the dark outline of trees. The white sky, sunless. The glutinous wisps of skinny clouds. The sound of rain against glass. On the streets: girls in short leather skirts, their legs long and delicate and bare. Old women in puffy jackets. Children splashing in puddles. Don’t run, you’ll slip. Then: I told you to be careful! Blades of grass, thin, translucent like jade, bent and speckled with dew. Plastic cups of coffee half-drank, stippled with condensation. Labels completely soaked through, grayish with water, soft, the corners half-peeled and bunched into knots. How have I never noticed this before, the dark leaves like lace doilies, the coarse bark, the birds with glossy round eyes. Fluorescent lighting of the subway. Hard plastic seats. People hunched over their phones, screens smeared with fingerprints, jackets blotched with raindrops. Quick tapping fingers. Faces colorless in the light, pallid, some impassive, some laughing: eyes flickering, cheeks bunched up, teeth yellow and bared. Doors open: rush of wind, fading conversation, clouds of perfume. There’s no way he — I swear! Where do you want to get dinner? There’s a new place that just opened up down the street, I’ve always wanted to try —

Inside, hot water, yellow lights, mirror clouded over with steam. Silky soap swirling down the drain. Soft towel. Skin smooth, hot, dry. Clean clothes. Damp hair on cool sheets. Cold, filtered water dripping down my chin. The broad, almost plastic-looking leaves of my house plant, shiny and dark green. Streetlights outside, slightly blurred, softly shining red, orange, yellow. On my tablet: pictures of forests, knotted trees, sprawling fields of moss, everything bluish-green. Quiet, still. Books with thin, inky fonts, the g’s and d’s written just the way I like. Somehow gratifying everything is, this moment, perfect. Poems: tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother, if the dog were alive he would be drowning, in the spring the rabbits will find it and build their nest inside. The living go on living, and the dead go on living with them. The rain seeps in the cracks, and the trunk falls to the ground, and the moss covers it. Nothing is wasted in nature or in love. Opened windows. Whirring of cars outside. Soon, the lights will be off and blankets will be drawn in and tomorrow will begin. Tomorrow: what it will bring, no one can say for sure. But today was beautiful, it was. It was.

[sodobabe]

The rest of our lives (pt. 2) (18+ ONLY)

A/N: Alright. Here we go. If the idea of pregnancy sickness and childbirth makes you uncomfortable, please do NOT read this. There are mentions of dying. There are depictions of complicated birth. I went a more vampire-ish route in the way that Aether saves the reader. I just didn't want to completely kill the reader.

Summary: The knot stuck. You were with kit and time flew by before it was time to give birth. Complications come about and Aether must save you.

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood. Lots of it. Swearing. Birth complications. Self-harm but to save the reader.

TIME JUMP TO A WEEK LATER FROM LAST FIC

You woke up not feeling great. Your stomach hurt and you felt like last night’s dinner was going to come up at any minute. It was too early in the morning for you to even consider waking up Aether so you quietly made your way to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your flushed face. 

As you finished enjoying the cooling sensation you heard the bathroom door open behind you. Aether was up. 

“Hey, Peach. You alright, love? It’s not even 6,” he said as he gently approached you.

“Y- yeah, I’m alright. Just not feeling too great right now,” you said as you turned the water off. 

“What’s wrong? Anything I can get you?” he asked as he gently rubbed your back. 

“My stomach is killing me and I feel like I might throw up at any minute,” you said as you clenched your stomach while another wave of pain shot through you. 

“Oh, dear. Hold on. Let me text one of the sisters on night duty and see if she can bring you some ginger ale and a cup of green tea,” he said as he walked back into the bedroom. 

The pain was getting worse. You could hardly stand so you just decided to sit on the bathroom floor and wait for Aether to come back in.

“Oh, lucifer, my love,” Aether said as he ran over to you.

“Here, let’s get you back in bed. C’mon,” he continued as he picked you up in his arms.

“Aghhh,” you screamed as another shot of pain pierced through your stomach. 

Aether carried you back to the nest and gently placed you down so you were curled up in a fetal position. He crawled into the nest beside you and gently placed his hand on your tummy. The warmth of his hand felt good against your cramping stomach.

“My love. Do you think you are starting your cycle?” he asked gently.

“I don’t think this is that,” you said as you held his hand against you.

Then it hit you, your cycle was late, only by a few days but nonetheless.

“Aeth,” you whispered out.

“What is it, peach?” he muttered into your neck.

“I’m late. My- my cycle is late,” you said as tears started to well in your eyes.

“Do you think you could be with kit?” he asked, trying to contain the smile on his face. 

“I- I don’t know. How do we find out?” you asked as the tears started to pour out.

“Oh, peach. Don’t cry. Don’t worry. Shhhh. You’re okay. Everything will be alright,” Aether said as he pulled you closer, your face now in his chest.

“We will wait for Copia to wake. He will be able to tell,” he continued as he pushed your hair out of your face. 

As you continued to cry into Aether’s chest, a sister knocked on the door with your ginger ale and tea in hand. 

“Come in. It’s open,” Aether said.

The sister opened the door and walked over to the nest, placing the ginger ale and tea on the table next to you and left. 

Aether sat up and grabbed the glass.

“Here, peach, drink some of this. It will help with the sickness,” Aether said as he held the glass with a straw in it up to your mouth. 

You took a few sips before laying back down. He was right, it did ease the nauseating feeling a little bit. 

“When do you think Copia will be awake?” you asked as you wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“He should be up any minute, peach. He is an early bird,” Aether said as he placed his hand back on his belly.

Before you knew it, you heard footsteps in the hallway. Aether’s door swung open a few seconds later. It was Copia.

“Ah. What do we have here? I could sense someone was not feeling well,” Copia said as he closed the door behind him. 

“Copia, we think- we think (Y/N) might be with kit,” Aether said as he sat up. 

“Ah. What fantastic news. Let me check,” Copia said as he approached the nest. 

You rolled over so you were on your back, your stomach exposed to the cold air of the den. Copia bent down and placed both of his hands on your bare tummy. He pushed and prodded around and stood straight up.

“My darling, (Y/N). Congratulations, you are carrying Aether’s kits,” he said with a gleaming smile.

Aether started to cry tears of happiness as he pulled you toward him.

“Thank you, Copia,” he said as he tightened his grip on you. 

Copia left the den and as soon as the door closed, your tears began. 

You sobbed into Aether’s chest. 

“Aeth, I’m scared. What’s going to happen?” you said between sobs.

“Peach, there is nothing to be scared of. You will always have me. I will be by your side every step of the way. You are going to be an amazing parent. I wouldn’t want anyone else carrying my kits,” Aether said as he gently rocked you.

“I know nothing about carrying kits. How long do I carry? What’s the birth process since these clearly are not all human?” you asked.

“The gestation period is 4 months. They will grow fast. The birth process is not different from that of regular human offspring,” Aether reassured.

You sat up and readjusted your position.

“Aeth, what about our wedding?” you said as you wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“Oh, peach. Do not worry about our wedding. You are mine. I am yours. We will always have each other. Our wedding can wait,” Aether said as he grabbed your hands. 

“I love you, Aeth. I know you wanted to have kits. I think the idea is kinda growing on me,” you said as you chuckled to yourself. 

“I love you too, (Y/N). We will get through this together with each other,” Aether said before kissing your forehead.

_________________________________________________________

TIME JUMP 4 MONTHS

You were woken out of your sleep by the most excruciating pain in your abdomen. 

“AETH!” you screamed, startling Aether out of his deep sleep.

“Peach, what’s wrong, what’s going on?” he asked as he scrambled out of the blankets. 

“Aeth, it hurts. Something is happening,” you said before letting out another painful scream.

“Okay, shhhh, hold on. Let’s see what’s going on. May I take the blankets off?” he asked as he grabbed the top of the blanket that was covering your swollen stomach. 

There was blood. More blood than usual. 

“Lucifer! Okay, peach, don’t panic. There’s a lot of blood. I’m going to go get Copia. If you feel like you have to push, please do,” Aether said as he quickly crawled out of the nest.

A few moments later, Copia appeared with Aether not far behind. 

“My darling child. Tell Papa what you are feeling,” Copia said as he swiftly approached your side. 

“Copia, it feels like- AGHHHH, it feels like my insides are trying to crawl their way out,” you said between screams. 

“Ok, (Y/N) you’re in labor and you are ready to deliver. What I need to happen is this. Aether, get behind them. Sit behind them and hold them to your chest. They’re going to want to squeeze something and that’s what you are there for. Now (Y/N), I need you to start pushing. The goal here is to get the kit’s out as fast as possible,” Copia said as he knelt between your legs.

Aether sat behind you and pulled you to his chest, grabbing a hold of your hands in the process. 

You felt the urge to push and you did so.

“AGHHHHH FUCK LUCIFER FUCK,” you screamed out as you gave a hard push.

“Perfect, my child,” Copia said.

Another urge hit and you gave another push.

“MOTHER FUCKER SATAN, FUCK FUCK FUCK,” you screamed out as you felt a slight pressure leave you.

“Ah, very good, one kit is out. One to go,” Copia said as he placed the newborn into a small nest of blankets next to him. 

“I- I can’t do it,” you panted as you flung your head back against Aether.

“Peach, you’re doing so well, you just have to get the last one out. C’mon, my love. You can do it, I believe in you,” Aether said as he brushed your sweaty hair out of your face.

The urge to push made its way back and you bore down.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK LUCIFER AGHHH,” you screamed as the second kit made it’s way into the world.

“Very well done, (Y/N). Wonderful. You did amazing,” Copia said as he placed the second kit next to its sibling. 

You knew something didn’t feel right. Your body was quickly growing weaker. 

“I- something’s wrong. What’s happening?” you mumbled out.

“Aether. They’re losing blood. You know what you need to do to save them,” Copia said as he started tending to the newborns.

“But- but Copia. I thought we were not allowed to change humans into ghouls like that?” Aether said as panic spread in his voice.

“My child, I am giving you permission to keep your mate. Now, you do not have much time. Please go ahead and do it,” Copia said.

Aether crawled from behind you and gently propped up pillows to replace his body. He dug in the bedside table before finding his knife. 

“(Y/N). I’m going to cut open my arm and I need you to suck my blood. If you do not, I will lose you. I cannot lose you. My blood will turn you to a ghoul. Do not panic. Just please do as I say,” Aether said as he dug the knife into his flesh.

He held his arm up to your mouth and you didn’t even care that you would no longer be human. You could not leave Aether. You would do whatever it took to stay with him forever.

His blood was cold and salty. Quite refreshing actually. You sucked hard, practically chugging your ghoul’s blood when all of sudden your world went black.

[legiomiam]

Find the Word

I was tagged by @awritingcaitlin for the words find, breathe, back, wait, hand

Since I have not gotten far into my new draft of This Dark And Divine Place yall get the very first draft I did.

☙❦❧

Find

It was also the time that Thema would miss her home the most, her starlit skin was free of any coming storm, her sunset eyes would stay trained to the skies and watch the birds begin to return to build their nests.

“Mama?”

Her head turned as if she was having issues pulling herself from a dream, something that called her to stay in that vivid past that haunted her memories. “Yes?”

Her son stood in the middle of the room, his gear was strapped across his chest and their eyes met.

“Is the creature back?” Her voice was airy as she spoke, eyes drifting back to the clearing sky.

“We don’t know if it’s the same one or a different one but for the reports it sounds almost like a Griever, I’m taking Naveen with me so Baba can stay.” The words weren’t supposed to be said, to be spoken out loud but Brahm wasn’t one to hold back what he would say, that would just cause issues. No one wanted to talk about Krishorn Najm’s fear of leaving on a hunt one day to return to find that his wife had ascended back to the heavens where she had come from.

☙❦❧

Breathe

“Should I go as I am?” She held out her now empty cup, something dancing in her eyes as his fingers closed around the warm metal to steady it as he tilted the pitcher. With her hands now free Rashka overturned the covers and made to stand up.

As she shuffled around he watched the cold thick liquid run into the bowl of the cup, “first we’ll have to take you to my father he will want to talk to you. There we can discuss how we wish… to… what are you—” Brahm finally looked up and nearly swallowed his tongue, hands jerking so blood splashed on him. “Shit.”

“Swearing in front of a lady, I’m sure there are manners that you could probably use. Or is everyone here but your sister and mother barbarians?” Catching a snag in her hair as her fingers ran through it, she winced. Her head is still tender from the hit she took.

“And you should put some clothes on, has not one person offered you clothes?”

“Oh so suddenly the Fae have issues with public nudity, is it? I thought that was one thing you were so open about, clotheslessness.”

Brahm knew that he stared at her like a fish trying to breathe out of water, his face felt hot as she turned her gaze to him, their stare only interrupted every few seconds by some slow blinks from her tilted. “Or does clotheslessness actually not bother you, hmm?”

☙❦❧

Back

“Marjorie,” she leaned in so her mouth was pressed against the shell of the other vampyre’s ear. “As much as I don’t like it, I’m not above telling my future husband that you were supporting ideologies of the worst and most damning kind, as what you once had told me? And just who do you think Klaas would believe at that moment?” She had whispered the question as the other woman scoffed, “I may have my opinions and history but I am the Princess of the Eastern Empire, his betrothed who will give him many children, a pureblood held to the highest degree above you. And you, Marjorie, you are a low born Vampyre, and from the whisperings of staff not even fully vampyre are you? Not enough to be a parent, no Klaas wouldn’t allow you such a position even for a low born unless your family owed his. I’m guessing that a grandparent, or one generation back from that was a dear friend.

“Even then that didn’t give you a high standing, then you were attacked and disfigured. Something that most marriageable men wouldn’t want. So you have a high ranking maid hand as a title, that’ll get you a well off husband who would come to serve my husband. Maybe a tailor or even a guardsmen if permitted. Now if I, a pureblood — a pureblood who owns you essentially — told your other owner that you knew where the missing Fae was, or that I found reason that you were having an association with impure blood, especially in front of the Counsul, I don’t think your bed on the third floor away from the servants’ quarters would be the only thing you’d lose.”

Taking a step back and smiling as if she didn’t just make a threat that had run cold through her veins, not when the blonde who was breathing heavily lowered her eyes, “it would do you good to remember in this house who is in charge of whom. So for now I will let you walk around, head held high as you think that you are in charge.”

☙❦❧

Wait

They chased after it, slipping on the stone soaked with blood, tracking its movements into the sparse treeline. With familiar movements Brahm didn’t wait knowing that Naveen would eventually catch up with him as the trees passed in blurs, his feet would barely touch a branch as he launched into a tree and he’d be a few trees away, hazel eyes tracking the fast moving shape. Thankful that Grievers still ran warm he knew Naveen’s eyes would be able to see the Griever as the sun had yet to rise.

Why was it sticking to the treeline? Why not go farther, it seemed scared of something as it had landed close to a denser section and screamed before back tracking. Grievers needed to hide in shadowed places as the sun would treat their bodies like tinder for a bonfire. They were only a few hours from sunrise.

 It was unfocused as Brahm slammed into it, hand going for that dagger still lodged in its side, dislodging it he tumbled out of the way to reorient himself just to watch the Griever dig its own clawed hands into its head and jerk.

“What the fuck?” Naveen halted as they watched the creature repeatedly slam into the trees, quickly felling one before launching into another. It circled and then clicked and chirped, waiting. It watched the two hunters before taking a swipe and turning to continue to run.

“It’s leading us?”

“Yeah away from the village, and our horses.”

☙❦❧

Hand

“Would you still want to see me?” He finally asks, head tilting towards her, waiting for a response. “When we continue on with our lives?”

“I would like to think we have established enough of a connection to remain…” she paused, unsure of what to say. What were they? 

“Friends?”

“Is that what we are? Friends? Do friends regularly do what we do?” She didn’t spare him a glance, mind numb as she waits. Waits for his answer.

“Ride with me,” he swiftly pulls her from her horse, letting her settle in front of him as he ties the reins of her horse to his saddle. “What do we do, Rashka?”

Her back pressed firm to his chest as his chin drops to her shoulder, one hand holds firm as it holds her close to him. Subtle is something they are not.

“How about we wait until after the solstice to define what we are, but just know friends don’t do what we do. Lovers do.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her face. “When I visit will you show me your day to day? Even if it’s just the dusty keys of a piano—“

“Or the crust of a pie?” She smiled, part of her elated to let him in on parts of her.

“Pie? Do you bake?”

“My mother and I, her pies are better than mine though.”  Rashka smiled, it was small as she thought of her mother.

☙❦❧

Tagging @awritingcaitlin (again), @bebewrites @runeseaks @pinespittinink @sentfromwolves @juls-writes @mr-writes @tananaphone @carrotblr

For the words: head, enemy, hold, slump, inside

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 52: The Origins of Corvus

-

Aurora laughed and giggled as she crawled after Corvus, Malakar's loyal pet raven. They were entertaining themselves with a game of tag. Every time Aurora would get closer, he would hop just out of reach, cawing softly as if encouraging her to keep going.

Malakar was watching the game with a warm smile. He loved it when his pet and his daughter played together and he adored how gentle Corvus was with Aurora. A few minutes later, when Corvus tagged Aurora with his beak for what felt like the umpteenth time, she looked at Corvus, pouting with determination.

Corvus nuzzled Aurora as a way of saying that she did a great job of chasing after him and Aurora accepted his gesture with a hug. Malakar chuckled, stepping forward to scoop her up in his arms.

Aurora smiled at her father and Malakar kissed the top of her auburn curls.

With the baby in his arms, he sat in his favorite armchair. Corvus flew gracefully across the room and perched on the armrest, his head cocked to the side as if listening intently.

Sitting in the armchair, Malakar held Aurora close. Her tiny hand reached out, brushing against Corvus's sleek, black feathers. The raven let out a soft caw, his way of acknowledging her touch.

"Have you ever wondered how I first met our dear Corvus?" Malakar began. Aurora's eyes widened and she shook her head "Yes".

"Well, it was many, many years ago," he continued. "I was a young man, about, eighteen years old…"

-

Eighteen-year-old Malakar was scouring in the forest exotic mushrooms for one of his father's, Thorne's, potions. Malakar had always loved going into the forest, even if it was for a chore.

To him, the forest was like an endless playground full of beautiful plants and animals to explore and be acquainted with.

-

"It was during one of these mushroom hunts," said Malakar, "when I heard a soft sound... almost like a chirp and there, I saw it, a baby raven. All on its own. By the looks of it, his mother and three other chicks, his siblings, have been killed by a mountain lion."

-

Malakar heard the sound of a baby bird chirping and walked towards a rogue pile of leaves. He pushed through the pile to find a little raven chick chirping and hopping all around. The bloody pawprints of a mountain lion, a few stray black feathers, and a matted nest gave what happened away. The tiny chick shivered in the autumn wind. 

The young sorcerer couldn't just leave the poor little chick there on its own, besides, what if the mountain lion came back?

Malakar carefully held out his cupped hands towards the baby raven. He shyly backed away at first.

"It's alright," whispered Malakar, "it's alright. I've got you."

The little raven didn't budge.

Then, Malakar had an idea.

He dug into his satchel, took out a small stem of black currants, and held it out to the tiny raven, "Here. Have some."

The tiny raven hesitated but then took a black currant in his small beak and ate it.

It tasted good.

Malakar chuckled and the tiny raven let out three little caws as if it was trying to laugh. He hopped onto Malakar's hand and the sorcerer gently lifted his arm so that the tiny raven could get a better look at Malakar.

"All alone, I see?" Malakar asked him.

The little raven nodded sadly.

"Well," declared Malakar, "you're not alone anymore. You can come and stay with me and I will take very good care of you!"

The little raven brightened up, cawed, and hopped happily.

Malakar put the raven chick on his shoulder and walked along the forest path.

-

Aurora's little mouth formed a perfect "o" at her father's words. Malakar continued, "From then on, the little raven and I were inseparable. And, true to my word, I did take good care of him. I bathed him…"

-

Malakar, with his gloves off and sleeves rolled up, gently rubbed and scrubbed the little raven chick in the bathroom sink. The little chick cawed happily at the sights of the suds and bubbles.

He even splashed the water a little, getting Malakar wet.

But, he wasn't mad. He smirked at the playful little raven.

-

"Fed him.."

-

The little raven was enjoying his feast of blackcurrants on the kitchen table with a little piece of fabric tied around his neck like a napkin.

Malakar grimaced at the contents of a bucket he kept in the garden.

Inside was some fresh soil and wiggly, squiggly, slimy… worms.

And do you want to know what he did to those worms?

He picked some up, put them in his mouth, chewed them up, spat them out, and placed them in front of the little raven.

…No! I'm kidding!

He mashed them up with a molcajete (a mortar and pestle carved from volcanic rock) and served them to the little raven alongside the black currants.

-

"Took him everywhere I went, similar to what Mary did with her little lamb… especially to school."

-

The children at The Academy of Arcane Arts gathered around Malakar's desk and cooed at the little raven chick, who seemed to enjoy all of the attention.

-

"I even made him a little bed for him to sleep on, right next to mine."

-

Malakar gently fluffed up a cotton ball that was to be used as a pillow. Malakar had made a little bed for the raven chick to sleep in. He used a small hat box as the main bed frame, stuffed it with soft hay as the mattress, the cotton ball as a pillow, and a ragged piece from an old quilt as a blanket.

To keep the little chick warm, Malakar placed an oil lamp right beside the bed.

That night, the little raven chick loved his little bed so much, that he fell asleep almost instantly, tucking his tiny head into his little wings.

-

"As the years passed," said Malakar, "I watched the little raven grow up." He chuckled. "I remember, how he used to hop around whenever he was excited and, oh, I will never forget his first flight. I was so excited when he flew around the room."

-

The raven, who was a little bit bigger now, looked nervous as Malakar held him in his cupped hands.

"It will be alright," said Malakar, "I'll be right here to catch you. Just bend your legs and push off. It's easy, promise."

Malakar gently threw the little raven up in the air, and, without even thinking, he spread his wings and started to fly. His movements were wobbly at first, but after a few circles around the room, his movements became more graceful.

The sorcerer cheered and encouraged the little raven as he kept flying.

-

Corvus gave a small, approving caw as he remembered his first flight.

"However," said Malakar, "something was missing for the little raven. A name. It just so happened that the idea for his name came when I was in my Latin class…"

-

Malakar was trying to listen attentively to his Latin professor, but the lesson was just dragging on and on.

He wished the lesson would hurry up so he could go back to playing Robin Hood and His Merry Men with Zephyr and Icarus.

Suddenly,  he perked up at the mention of the word "Corvus" which meant "raven" in Latin.

"Corvus," he thought, "what a perfect name for my little friend…"

The sorcerer smiled at the raven who was perched on the window next to his desk.

-

"And that," said Malakar, "is how Corvus became a part of my life and now, he is a part of yours as well, my little star."

She reached out a tiny hand towards the raven and Corvus leaned forward, gently nudging her fingers with his beak.

She giggled in delight.

Malakar held her close. “You see, my dear Aurora," he murmured, "families come in all shapes and sizes, with feathers, fur, or magic... The most important thing to have though, is love."

Aurora cooed and hugged Corvus again. Corvus accepted the hug the baby gave him.

Malakar set Aurora back on the floor and no sooner had Corvus joined her, she tagged the raven and crawled away as fast as she could.

Corvus looked surprised but cawed happily as he hopped after Aurora, continuing their game of tag.

Malakar smiled warmly again and settled into the armchair. He was certainly sure that Corvus was to be a part of his family for a long time.

[life-around-me-yura15cbx]

Cyathus striatus, fluted bird's nest, common saprobic bird's nest fungus with a widespread distribution throughout temperate regions of the world.

Division:Basidiomycota

Class:Agaricomycetes

Order:Agaricales

Family:Nidulariaceae

Genus:Cyathus

This fungus resembles a miniature bird's nest with numerous tiny "eggs"; the eggs, or peridioles, are actually lens-shaped bodies that contain spores. C. striatus can be distinguished from most other bird's nest fungi by its hairy exterior and grooved (striated) inner walls. Although most frequently found growing on dead wood in open forests, it also grows on wood chip mulch in urban areas. Another common name given to C. striatus, splash cups, alludes to the method of spore dispersal: the sides of the cup are angled such that falling drops of water can dislodge the peridioles and eject them from the cup. Latin stria, meaning "with fine ridges or grooves".

Contains complex antibiotic compounds, schizandronols, ets.

Келишки смугасті — вид грибів роду ціатус.

Kubek prążkowany – gatunek grzybów z rzędu pieczarkowców. :)

22 Northcross Drive, Oteha, Auckland 0632

грибы, наземные растения

[wildpix]

The gibber plains of the Australian Outback have become one of my favourite landscapes. It is simple, honest, no nonsense. I love the barrenness, and that is why it is the perfect habitat for a little friend of mine, the Banded Lapwing, a bird who likes things barren or bare, far from cover, wary, nesting in scrapes, laying eggs that are perfectly camouflaged.

This picture captures the essence of what I love out here and this country sooths me. I enjoy spending my days drifting, a sort of slow-moving mindfulness. I like the window down, engrossed in the landscape, lost in the day. Things are simple, a cup of tea, a vegemite sandwich, a bit of red dust, bedding with a hint of diesel, an occasional splash in a cattle trough, a clean outfit saved for going home, some would say minimalist, absolutely! and that is exactly the way I like it.

Photo by @reandutoit

#reandutoit #reandutoitphotography #naturephotography #nature #outback #westernaustralia #wilderness #australia #motherearth #natgeoyourshot #bird #birdphotography #abcmyshot #abcmyphoto #wanderoutyonder #murchison #wildlifephotography #birdsofinstagram #bird_brilliance #bestbirdsofinstagram #gibber #abcmidwest #abcmidwestandwheatbelt #outbackaustralia #goldenoutback #outbackpathways #abcmidwestwa #gibberplains #lapwing #bandedlapwing

[usgsbiml]

Splash Cup Birds Nest - Cyathus stercoreus.  Found in the mulch at the USGS Native Bee Lab. Photo by Dorcas Ogunbanwo.

[madmushlove]

Bird’s Nest Fungi

These fungi form tiny cups with globs of spores called peridioles which resemble tiny eggs in a nest.

These fungi rely on drops of water to spread their spores.  When raindrops fall in the “nest,” they splash the peridioles out.

There are some 5 genera of Bird’s Nest Fungi, and I believe what I have here are a species of Crucibulum. 

They are fairly tiny, so easy to miss.  It’s always a magical feeling if I happen to spot some with the eggs still in their nests. 

[sundaysundaes]

Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.” 

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!” 

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.” 

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened? 

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“��Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 

***

[yutanology]

[10 : 59] Yandere!Mark Lee

ONE | TWO | THREE

Your hands were pressed on the glass window as you watch the birds fly down to the birdbath on the backyard. They looked like they were having fun splashing water on each other. You smiled at the scene yet you couldn't help but get jealous.

Their lively chirps reminded you of the times you were with your friends, laughing together as you recall your embarrassing childhood memories. You can't even remember the last time you had fun. The last time you laughed your heart out.

You felt a presence behind you but you didn't acknowledge it. "What are you thinking, Y/n?" Mark asked, taking a few strands of your hair, running it along his finger.

The birds chased each other, racing to their nest. "Nothing. I just thought, they're so lucky to fly around like that." He followed your gaze outside the window. "It must be good to be free." you said, almost like a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.

He didn't say anything but he smiled to you ever so sweetly and kissed your temple. His chocolate brown eyes stared at you lovingly like you're the most precious thing to the world. His hands cupped your cheeks and you closed your eyes when you felt his lips on yours.

The next morning you woke up, the clear water on the birdbath turned red. You found the pair of birds laying on the green grass sleeping peacefully with their wings cut off and Mark watched your expressionless face with clenched fists.

[eagle-longing-for-rostau]

I am the blue egg of the Great Cackler. I am the egg of the world. I was asleep inside a mound of dirt, now I rise from a buried egg. I live, I say, I live. I smell the air. I sniff the air. I walk with my toes in the dirt. I give my family duck meat to eat. I guard the fledgling in the nest. What food there is for man in the sky, blue sky. A swallow darts and circles. I am the egg. I smell the air.

I am the first-born, the light of the sky. I breathe in the presence of a powerful god, under the belly of sky, upon the shoulder of Egypt. My breath is like a child to me. My breath hangs sweet in my nostrils. I am the blue egg of the Great Cackler. I grow. I swell. I sniff air. I live there like the wing of a goose.

What a journey I have made, the things I have seen. I am but one of you. In my hand I grasp the sailing mast, while my left hand trails in the water. The trees are heavy with figs and olives. A coconut drops to the ground. I have separated myself from myself to sail again on the green Nile waters. I sail to the temple where the gods have gathered to gaze at their faces in deep pools. In my boat the souls of the years sail with me. The hair stands on my head in the wind. I hear the splashing of oars like the cracking of a thin blue shell. Horus keeps one hand on the rudder. What a journey I have made, the things I have seen. We glide to the middle of the lake. Give me a cup of milk and cake or bread. Give me a jug of water and human flesh. Give me air to breathe and a strong sailing wind when I rise from the underworld.

A sycamore rises white from the river, filling itself with water and air. Fill me with water and air. I am the blue egg of the Great Cackler and I sniff the air. I grow and live. I breathe and live. On the banks of the Nile, the sky fills with birds and the sails of boats swell like lungs.

[jacky-rubou]

Can I request a fic of Researcher era Ford finding the Hawktopus?

Ford was at the lake, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sea monster the townsfolk kept blabbering about. Journal in hand, he looked out across the surface of the water. Ford was just thinking he might need a boat to really look for the monster, when he heard frantic splashing coming from his left.

Ford peered through the bushes blocking his view of that part of the lake, and saw what looked to be a hawk struggling in the water, its face completely submerged. Maybe it was caught on something, like a net or wire, or some other fisherman's tool. Ford stomped through the flora to the water's edge, hoping to save it from an untimely demise.

Ford grabbed the bird by its back and wings and gently lifted it out of the water and into the air. What he saw was so unexpected, he dropped it back into the water. Ford, after taking off his glasses, cleaning them on the seam of his vest and putting them back on, shakily reached down and pulled it back up into view. Ford's eyes were not deceiving him like he first suspected.

Where the bird's beak and legs would be, there were tentacles. Tentacles like an octopus would have, all wriggling around like they had a mind of their own. And if Ford's biology class had taught him anything, each tentacle technically should have a mind of its own. This creature was so contradictory, it was hard to fathom for Ford.

The creature didn't seem pleased by Ford's handling, and immediately latched itself onto Ford's face with its leg tentacles. If it was a normal hawk, Ford's face would be all scratched up from its talons, but the suction cups were still an issue, leaving red sores everywhere they suctioned onto. Ford yanked at it, but its grip was so strong that Ford winced with pain. It wasn't worth having his face ripped off in the process.

Out of the blue, Ford got an idea. He leaned over the lake and, after taking a mighty deep breath, dunked his head into the water. To his relief, Ford felt the creature release him and swim off, if you could call the weird drowning-looking movements 'swimming'. Ford pulled his head out of the water with a splash. He idly rubbed his sore face as he went back to work trying to find the sea monster.

Ford had eventually managed to acquire a boat, staying at the shore was not gonna cut it. He was in the middle of the lake now, waiting to see any sign of the monster. Ford wondered if the rumors were even true before a loud gurgling sound startled him. It was that hawktopus again, perched on the side of his little boat... somehow.

Ford began to sketch it in his journal, there wasn't anything else to do until the sea monster showed itself, as this spot was apparently a prime sea monster spotting location on the lake according to the locals. The hawktopus was just so bizarre. And that was saying a lot considering the other weirdlife in this town. How did it not suffocate out of water? How did it hunt? There were so many questions.

Ford finished the drawing when the hawktopus lunged at him. Ford instinctively held his journal holding hands in front of himself without thinking and the journal got hooked onto by the hawktopus's tentacles. Ford frantically held onto the journal, all six fingers tightened as hard as they could squeeze. He wasn't about to lose his journal to this impossible creature.

"Let go, you insufferable bird cephalopod thing!"

Unfortunately for Ford, the hawktopus's grip was too strong and it tore the book out of his hands. It flew off with an angry gurgle in the direction of the treeline on the shore. Ford desperately followed it on his boat until reaching the shore, where he hopped out acrobatically and chased it to the base of the tallest tree in the area. Ford saw it perch at the very tippy top of the tree, in what appeared to be a large nest.

With a loud exasperated groan, Ford started to climb the tree. It was fortunate that there were plenty of branches and other things to grip onto on this tree. Otherwise Ford would be forced to try coaxing the hawktopus down somehow, as the height of it was too high to trust himself to shimmy up safely. Ford's heart skipped a beat when he nearly slipped off about halfway up. Ford clung to the tree and took several deep breaths to calm down. That was close.

Finally, after several minutes of agonized climbing, Ford was close to the journal thief. He waited for it to fly away so it wouldn't attack him, then reached the nest. Ford glanced down then reflexively shut his eyes and tightened his grip on the branch. That was a mistake. Ford was dizzyingly high up, one slip and he'd probably die from the fall.

Ford sat himself on the strongest branch, requiring the use of his hands to grab his journal. Also, his arms and legs were burning from the arduous effort to climb up here. The journal was nested nicely in one of the sides of the nest, surrounded by speckled eggs. Ford would've stayed there to examine them, but a loud gurgle had alerted him that the hawktopus was coming back. Ford grabbed his journal and placed it in his trench coat.

Ford found himself hurrying a little faster than he should to get down from the tree, unwilling to have another encounter with the hawktopus's creepy tentacles. The hawktopus swooped at him and he swatted it away as he descended. It swooped again, but this time Ford didn't swipe in time. It latched onto his face with most of its tentacles. Ford yelped and tasted blood as the creature tore away from his face with a screech, satisfied that he wasn't gonna attack its nest anymore.

"Ow! I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" Ford continued to climb down, disgruntled at this creature that had been pestering him all day, as if it wanted him to study it. Ford just wanted to find the sea monster everyone was talking about, was that too hard to ask?! Ford grumbled all the way down, though he was glad the journal was safe and back in his possession.

Ford was about six feet off the ground when disaster struck. A branch that he chose to step on gave out on him and he went tumbling, the shock of the moment causing him to lose his grip on the branches in his hands. Branches scratched him up pretty badly as he fell, though they did slow his descent somewhat. All that was heard in the forest was his scream and the thump as he hit the ground. Today was just not his day.

"Ow....." Ford groaned as he laid there at the base of the tree, his journal painfully digging into his torn up side from inside his coat. Ford attempted to sit up, sucking in a breath as he felt a sharp pain in his right arm. It felt broken. Must've landed on it. Ford slowly got to his feet and limped in the direction of the town, in dire need of medical attention.

...........................

Ford sat up in the hospital bed, his arm and bottom part of his leg in casts. His torso was covered completely in bandages making him feel like a living mummy. There were also some bandages on his face, though certainly not as much as the rest of his body. Grabbing a pen from the nightstand with his good arm, he managed to open the journal to his drawing of the hawktopus, the heart monitor beeping steadily in the background. With a few small strokes, he managed write only a few choice words about it.

Hawktopus:

Too stupid to study

[cosmicyeen]

OKAY SO I FORGOT TO FINISH THIS POST but basically a few days ago i was wandering the Locations and came across this tree, ive been familiar with it for years but this time i saw something fleeting and incredible:

A BIRDS NEST FUNGUS

Growing out of the dead outer bark layer!

I've only seen these once before; an almost steely dark species growing on the ground near the chicken run. The irony of seeing a birds nest fungus *in a tree* is also pretty lovely.

The funnel-shape of the nest and the "eggs" inside are a part of its dispersal method. A raindrop falls into the cup, and splashes the spore packets up the sides and outwards.

Anyways, i kept looking at this tree, and saw something else cool. Among the incredible variety of colors from reds to greens to grays and everything in between, there are these black lines snaking through the bark fibers

Faint, almost hairlike. These are called Zone Lines and are the defensive barriers put up by fungi as they spread and need to defend their resources from other fungi. When it occurs in wood, it's known as spalting, and can be quite beautiful when carved.

This made me think of what i've heard about zone lines from folks while going on nature walks, and i remembered there's this area of wood that looks a lot like one i've heard discussed.

Basically, if you picture a log, with different fungi growing on it, you end up with a 3D matrix of zone borders all intersecting in unique patterns. Some fungi burn out quickly, eating into the wood and turning it into spores and dirt and crumble away; all the while there are other fungi that are secluded in their whimsical 3D shapes long past the decay of the other fungi.

What do these look like? Something like this:

three dimensional zone lines! A dark black/brown matte surface keeping the fungus defended as it chugs along slowly, breaking down its territory staked out long ago

Breaking open the wood shows this border/digestion area distinction:

I've got no idea how long this particular variety takes to decay. I've seen this wood here for years just like other rotting logs, but it was only about a year ago that i learned what makes it look the way it did!

Something that *was* new to me was this, though:

I saw this strange pattern of speckles, almost bubbly, scaly looking patches underneath the barrier. I havent seen this before, nor do i know what it is. Maybe it's the fruiting body of this particular fungus. Maybe it's a defensive wall put up against some foreign invader. Maybe it's a holdover from something in the life of the tree that the fungus simply grew over.

Whatever it is, it's quite fascinating.

This all made me go look for other cool decomposition patterns. I came across this whiterot oak branch that had fallen. Rotted oak like this is great for giving to rolly pollies as a snack, especially when very crumbly. But this time i was interested in the almost imperceptible hairs snaking through it as well:

it hides quite well in this branch, especially because the walls like to form in alignment with the wood's natural grain. But running through the center from top to bottom there *is* a zone line.

it's slightly more visible from the top, where you can also see the slight color difference between the two zones thanks to the different chemical compositions/byproducts of the competing fungi

It really is just so cool. wars raged beneath our feet in branches we may throw aside or even burn.

Here's an old post oak stump; for a few years it's been here and we used to use it as a surface for splitting firewood. now large channels have rotted away and the surface has taken on that dark fungal look.

this final pic is down one of the channels that's decayed into the tree. It appears that all the elements of water, bugs, fungus, *decay* have all hollowed out a matrix that follows along down into the tree roots themselves.

It's a lot deeper than the ground surface. I've seen chipmunks go in and out of it as well. I can only imagine there's a whole luxury burrow complex down there.

Some pretty interesting stuff to see out there. Hope this was a good summary!