#Never ranking harvesting

[c0rpsedemon]

going from "i like ayaka but i'm going to pull for her brother instead bc i already have a cryo sword user + i want to replace my barbara w a 5*" to ayaka's biggest wanter and a ride or die barbara stan who doesn't even use ayato. every day i regret my decisions made during 3.5

[great-and-small]

Bird identification is so fucked up in a really fun way you can’t understand until you get into it. For example, there is a type of goose called the cackling goose that looks exactly like a Canada goose except smaller and “cuter”. The cackling goose is way, way, more rare in most places than its relatively common cousin, so it’s on tons of birders life lists. Everyone wants to see a cackling (look in any bird ID group to see lots of hopeful people posting petite Canada geese). The two species regularly commingle, so sometimes a flock of those common parking lot birds will have the equivalent of a Pokémon shiny just hanging out in the middle of them.

How ridiculous and fun is that? I can never look at a big group of Canada geese without scrutinizing their ranks for an adorable little extremely rare cutie pie cackling goose. It reminds me a bit of mushroom harvesting minus the risk of death if you get it wrong

[rxmye]

" 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐂�� 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — pristine and perfect, filled with grace and elegance, yet tainted with greed . . greed for you . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / slight religious themes?, I suppose it's a fictional religion, I'm still world-building / pathetic and submissive yandere / suggestive content? / he paints the reader as a source of comfort / stalking, which is conveniently described as 'adorable' and 'innocent' behavior /

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: ok so the person mentioned is supposed to be the God of this world, their introduction will also be out soon enough . . currently dropping hints here because world-building fun!!

Takamoto was an Arch-angel, one of the highest ranked angels in heaven—he was pure and truly the definition of elegance, he was never greedy, and he was almost always seen smiling or happy. For he, was truly contempt with his life, and position.

Takamoto was always someone who had truly been satisfied with all that he was given, he never craved more—he always thought and frankly believed, that he had received all that he deserved and that he should be contempt with what he has. He never really had any passion or desire for anything more—he was grateful with everything—he believed all his hardships had reasoning behind it, and that it will all eventually be solved. In fact a part of him believed he deserved any hardship he came by.

Many would believe he was naive for that sort of mindset, and many angels did truly believe him to be just that, yet against all odds he rose up the ranks fairly quickly for this sort of mindset, and of course his loyalty to his beliefs. Takamoto was sweet, he'd help everyone out, and would introduce new souls, and angels throughout the lands of heaven on his free time, he'd help guide souls and his fellow angels everywhere he could . . yet things slowly changed when he first met you . .

Takamoto was visiting, what could only be described as the countryside of heaven, with vast green fields, cozy homes, acres of farmland, etc . . He was checking in for this years harvest, as per high courts orders . . when he saw you, you were so graceful, your wings sparkled in the light, you were radiant, you're eyes glimmered as both of your eyes met for a brief moment . . he felt his heart skip a beat. . his face was heating up slightly, his face dusted with shades of bright pink.

His mouth hung slightly open, as his gaze lingered on you figure, taking in the sight—your wings were lovely, much smaller than his . . were you a new soul? Perhaps you were a lower ranked angel and hence why you both never quite met . . He wanted to know more about you—he need to know more about you—where were you going? . . . and before he knew it, he found himself following you, trailing behind you silently.

He found himself frequenting areas he last saw you, it was all so innocent at first, many of his fellow coworkers described him as a young schoolboy in love, teasing him for his oh so adorable behavior . .

Takamoto didn't notice how much you were invading his life, he hadn't even been able to hold a proper sentence with you yet . . . but even then his thoughts consumed of you, whenever he did paperwork, he'd doodle your face, his room was filled with various portraits of you . .

He found himself overtime growing desperate, impure thoughts flooding his mind, greed sinking its claws into his sensitive and naive hurt—he was the utter picture of perfection, just look at him, he was everything an angel . . a human, anyone should be!?!? Why aren't you looking his way!— . . he took deep breaths, his own fingers digging into his skin, as he tried calming himself.

Gold drips from his arm, the bruise left from his fingers still fresh—golden blood stained his pretty pale fingers—pupils dilating as he took deep breaths, a ruined portrait of your face on the aisle, paint splatters surrounded him, tainting his legs, as a mirror lay broken on the floor.

"Fuck", he cussed softly, tears threatening to spill, his usually well-kept hair was a mess . . "why can't I draw them . . ?", he asked, his voice hoarse, as he tried his best to contain the anger he felt at that moment, "why can't I fucking draw them??", his nails dig into the floor, as the door creaked open.

You need to love him, you need to see him. He had never craved someone's validation, he deserved this, he deserved you! He could offer you everything, he was perfect! Everyone he knows, envied that about him . . surely you'd notice, you have too . .

He turned to face the person at the door, tears now dripping down his cheek, he mumbled something under his breath, before he started begging, "Please, please, help me . . my lord"

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[redskull199987]

Concubine

Paul Atreides x fem!reader Part II

Word Count:1.6k

Warnings:!SPOILERS! for Dune II, canon typical violence

Summary:"This princess will carry his name and yet, she will be less than a Concubine. She will never spend a moment of tenderness with the man she is tied to. But we who are called concubines - in the eyes of history we will be wives…"

Part I / Masterlist

She was pretty. You had to give her that. Your gaze closely followed each and every move that the Princess made. You knew that her head must have been chaotic at the moment, going through every possible scenario, how this situation could end. And you also knew that her first and last goal of this day would be to save her father’s life and secure the continuous reign of her bloodline.

But from the way she looked at you, you knew that Princess Irulan was aware of the fact that if she did marry Paul, she’d never get to share a bed with him. Would never bear his heirs or even receive an ounce of warmth from him.

She knew that even though you'd officially be Paul’s concubine, his loyalty would lie with you. And only you.

Chani’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. It reminded you that before it ever came to that, Paul would have to beat the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.

You took a deep breath in, as you glanced over to the Harkonnen. You had heard stories of him back on Caladan. Stories of his thirst for blood and his enjoyment of Pain. His reputation preceded him, but his appearance clearly matched it. He looked almost eerily as he stepped forward, proposing to fight for the Emperor and defined his honor.

A small frown appeared on your face, when Paul accepted the proposal. Too fast for your liking. You heard Chani sigh next to you. You looked over to the Fremen. The Woman who had become like a sister to you, who had taught you the ways of her people. You remembered it as clear as day, when she had first told you, that you’d earned her trust.

It was the day you had joined the Fedaykin among their ranks, The day you became one of them.

You were high on adrenaline. You didn’t know how else you could’ve explained it. You didn’t know how else you would’ve pulled it off. Your eyes wandered over the many Corpses of the Harkonnen Warriors, that were supposed to protect their Harvester. Almost like in slow motion, you raised your hand, your fingertips wandering over the specks of blood that littered your face. You knew it wasn’t your own blood, but the thrill that the situation itself brought you, was indescribable. 

You needed a few moments to fully return to the present. The Spice in the Air was clouding your senses, making it feel like you witnessed everything merely from the eyes of a spectator and not as one of the Fremen who ever so fiercely attacked a Spice Harvester of the Harkonnen.

The Explosion pulled you out of your Trance.

You spun around, spotting Chani and Paul. They were fighting off a few Harkonnen warriors. But you quickly realized that Paul wouldn’t be able to defeat them all alone. You’ve never felt slower than in this moment, when you started running towards him. It felt like the Sand was pulling you down, seeking to swallow you whole.

But you didn’t let it. A scream left your lips, as you dashed forward, deeply burying your Crysknife in the back of a Harkonnen Warrior that was about to attack Chani from behind. You sank to the ground together with his Corpse, as Chani spun around, her eyes widening as she realized what had happened.

Only seconds passed, as you looked up to her, Anger and Determination all, that was on your mind. Chani gave you a small nod before Paul finally reached the two of you again.

“Re-load!”, Chani yelled at him and he quickly did as told, pulling out another round of Ammo, reloading Chanis Missile Launcher. 

You glanced past the Mainstay that the three of you were hiding behind. When you spotted the Ornithopter in the air, you gulped harshly.

“The shields only lower when he’s shooting!”, You shouted towards your companions. When you locked eyes with Paul, you immediately realized that the two of you had the same Plan.“We’ll distract him!”, Paul explained to Chani who gave him a court nod as she understood.

“Wait for our sign!”, You yelled, as you got ready to sprint over to the next Mainstay to distract the Sniper.

“Ready?”, Paul asked as he got into position next to you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”, You grinned, despite the Seriousness of the Situation.

You took in one last deep breath, knowing very well that it could be your last one, before you felt Paul tap your shoulder, signaling you to start running.

Almost immediately, your instincts kicked in and it felt like you were a spectator again, watching how your feet carried you through the hot sand. You saw and heard the shots that rang in the Air as you sprinted through the Desert.

“Shit!”, You heard Paul yell next to you and you quickly realized what he meant, when you saw the Mainstay in front of you start to move further away from you.

“Run!!”, You shouted, as if it wasn’t obvious. 

You knew that from that moment and the point where you reached your destination, only seconds passed but it felt like hours as you ran through the sand. Mere moments before you reached the safety of the Mainstay, you heard Paul yell at Chani to launch the Missile.

 You were knocked over by the Force of the Explosion as the Ornithopter burst apart into the air, signaling to the Fremen that were hidden on the cliffs nearby that they could launch their attack on the Harvester, destroying it entirely. 

“Hurry!”, Paul yelled, as he pulled you to your feet and back over to Chani who was already making her way towards the nearby Dune. You had to disappear in the Desert again, before more Harkonnen would come and attack you.

That night you sat with the other Fedaykin, drank and laughed with them as Paul and you joined their ranks as respectable Warriors of the Desert. You received your Fremen name and you realized that your Heart, your soul and your entire being was with them now. You would fight for them as long as you breathed, would even go to death for them.

And Chani seemed to realize it too.

The young woman had always acted cold towards you, but when you saved her life on that day, risking your own for hers, she realized just how much of a loyal friend and fighter lay in you. From that day on, You knew that you could always count on each other.

“He will survive…He will win.”, Chani whispered into your ear and squeezed your shoulder as you watched how Paul and Feyd-Rautha got ready for their Fight. As the Gaze of the Na-Baron crossed yours, you sucked in a deep breath. What you saw in those eyes scared you.

It was a thirst for Blood and Power that you had only seen in Paul as he drank the Water of life.

You quickly looked over to Paul, giving him a firm nod, signaling him that you were on his side. His eyes told you more than words ever could. It was a silent promise. A promise to come back to you, to survive this battle and to put his plan into action.

It was a Promise that he would become the Emperor.

“I must not fear”, You mumbled to yourself, as the fight began,”Fear is the Mindkiller.” 

Your eyes followed every little move of Paul as well as Feyd-Rautha. The two men were equal fighters, both born to be the One. But only one of them would win, only one of them would come out alive.

“Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.”, You whispered, as you watched Paul get knocked over the head, Blood trickling down his temple,”I will face my fear.”

“Is she your pet?”, Feyd-Rautha mocked as he gave Paul a moment to collect himself. The Na-Baron grinned wickedly and pointed his knife at you. You paid him no mind, as your eyes only rested on Paul, silently telling him not to let himself be provoked.

“I will permit it to pass over me and through me”, you mouthed as Paul got up and the Fight commenced anew. 

Your breath hitched as Feyd-Rautha swiftly disarmed Paul, ramming the Crsyknife into his ribs. A guttural groan left Paul's lips as the two fighters stood close to each other. Wheezing breaths were the only noise to be heard in the room.

“And when it has gone past I will turn to the inner eye and see it’s Path”, You whispered desperately, the Mantra being the only thing that kept you from panicking.

All your senses were focused on the two men in front of you as you witnessed how Paul silently pulled the Crysknife out of his Body, getting ready to attack. Feyd-Rautha barely had time to react as the holy knife of Shai-Hulud pierced his armor and therefore ended his life by the hand of the new Emperor. 

“Where the Fear has gone there will be nothing”, You mouthed as Paul got to his feet again. His steps seemed to carry the weight of the Universe as he walked over to the old Emperor, demanding him to kneel in front of his new Master.

Reluctantly the old man did as told, as he accepted his defeat. Princess Irulans gaze slowly wandered to you, as her father fell to his knees.

“Only I will remain.”

[serpentface]

Headshot of Etsushir, a soldier chosen to be the personal bodyguard of the sacrificial white calf.

He is somewhat of a rarity among the group, as not only a citizen elowey but of Jazaiti ethnicity, the only historic elowey people in the lands south of the Viper seaway and west of the Blackmane mountains. Jazait are a fairly small population, mostly located on a high, rocky peninsula in the far south of claimed Imperial Wardi lands. The lands themselves are not under direct occupation, but much of Jazaiti fishing and leviathan-hunting waters (on which a huge chunk of subsistence depends) are inaccessible, largely being occupied by Wardi fishing and overseas trade, and fishers must pay tribute in the form of their catch to '''legally''' harvest from most of their own waters. Jazait are somewhat commonly found working as fishers for Wardi cities, but otherwise are largely relegated to the sidelines as a tiny, 'heathen' minority, and will rarely be seen so directly involved in core Imperial Wardi affairs.

Etsushir achieved status as a war hero during the failed suppression of the North Finn rebellion, which he attended as a nameless footsoldier. He was a witness to the Odomache's death and successfully captured two of her killers to be taken alive for execution. This was the only even remotely successful act of retribution for the murder and defilement of The Face Of God Itself, and something he was greatly lauded for, being granted citizenship and a minor lordship (mostly in name alone). If pressed, he will claim to have gotten his dramatic facial scarring during his wartime exploits, but it actually happened two years prior in an accident involving boating equipment.

His status awarded him personal selection by the king to attend the pilgrimage as one of the guards of the sacrificial beasts, assigned to remain at the side of the aurochs calf for the entire duration of the trek. He has received a great privilege of permanently carrying a musket (all but Odonii priestesses and the highest ranking soldiers are prohibited from bearing firearms outside of active combat). He is under very, very, very high pressure to not fuck things up.

Etsushir is quiet and introverted, and rarely speaks unless spoken to. He has spent most of his life predominantly among humans, but never picked up the degree of facial emoting more common to humans than elowey, and is mistaken by many peers for being dull and unresponsive. He is acutely aware that his status is, in large part, an act of showmanship, rewarding a person of one of the most sidelined 'heathen' minorities with great privilege for exemplary loyalty to imperial interests. He trusts next to no one around him.

He is, however, a true believer in the Seven Faced God and the actual goals of the pilgrimage. He comes to truly see his little bovine charge as a piece of God Itself and is very devoted and affectionate towards the calf. He named it, but that's for him and the calf alone to know.

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 5/∞

MING FAN AS HEAD DISCIPLE OF QING JING PEAK

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

Most fanworks I've come across call Ming Fan the Head Disciple of Qing Jing Peak-- because of the prevalence of this idea, I even held to it in my own writing for a while. However, in canon, Ming Fan is NOT and never was Head Disciple.

This is another case of a fairly honest misconception, though.

In an earlier translation of SVSSS done by BCnovels, Ming Fan is referred to as Head Disciple:

"Descending the mountain this time is for the sake of gaining experience. This teacher will not be able to help you. Ming Fan, as the head disciple, you will need to vigilantly prepare so the demon won’t harm your fellow disciples." (BCnovels Ch. 6)

Shen Qingqiu said affably, “They were harvested from my head disciple Ming Fan’s family’s tea fields. As for whether they’re high-quality or not, won’t Shang-shidi know if he comes to take a meal at Qing Jing Peak?” (BCnovels Ch. 93)

(Many thanks to @shen-qing-qiu for providing these quotes!)

Even in terms of translation, the mistake is fairly honest as well. The exact position Ming Fan holds is 大弟子 (Da-dizi), and he is called 大师兄 （Da-shixiong) by Ning Yingying.

In some cultivation novels, 大弟子 is also the head disciple (I believe MDZS may be this way, but I do not have a copy of the original on hand to check right now), but what it literally means is "most senior/oldest disciple." It isn't necessarily the oldest of the group, but the one who was first to become a disciple of their master/a sect/etc. and has thus been training for the longest time, and has the most experience.

Ming Fan continues to be referred to as Da-shixiong even after Luo Binghe became head disciple:

Ning Yingying tugged on the battered and bruised Ming Fan. “Da-shixiong, did you hear?” she murmured. “A-Luo and Zhangmen-shixiong are saying that person is…Shizun?” (7S Ch. 13)

Which makes perfect sense-- even if the ranking has changed a bit, he is still the most senior disciple of Qing Jing Peak-- that won't ever change.

However, this is not the same as being head disciple.

In SVSSS, this is a separate category, where instead of being determined by seniority, the head disciple (首席弟子 Shouxi-dizi or 首徒 Shoutu) is a disciple specifically chosen for the role by the peak lord. Huan Hua Palace also has this role, and though less is known about internal sect politics there, it seems to follow the same sort of rule, with favored disciples being given this title.

Ming Fan is never referred to with this title. He is senior disciple, NOT head disciple.

The two quotes from the BCnovels translation above have since been corrected in the official TL:

“This trip down from the mountain is for the sake of your training. Unless as a last resort, this master will not assist you. Ming Fan, as the most senior disciple, you must design careful strategies, lest you let that demon harm your fellow disciples.” （7S Ch. 2)

“They were harvested from the tea fields of my senior disciple Ming Fan’s family,” Shen Qingqiu said affably. “As for whether they’re high-quality, won’t Shang-shidi know if he comes for tea at Qing Jing Peak?” （7S Ch.26)

It appears that when there is no head disciple, the senior disciple fills that role and performs the same duties:

All affairs on Qing Jing Peak, whether large or small, were handed to and looked after by Shen Qingqiu’s trusted subordinate, Ming Fan. (7S Ch. 1)

However, if a head disciple is chosen, many of these duties and authority will shift to the selected disciple:

These past couple of years, Shen Qingqiu had handed all manner of miscellaneous tasks big and small to Luo Binghe to deal with. After all, for now Luo Binghe was so sweet, obedient, and useful, his work thorough and meticulous. （7S Ch. 4)

At this point, though it has not directly been stated, Luo Binghe is the head disciple of Qing Jing Peak (there will be another post on this topic later).

One last note, I have also seen Liu Mingyan being referred to as head disciple in fanworks. This is a similar situation as Ming Fan's, though she is not even referred to as senior disciple. It isn't a big enough issue with enough canonical references to be worth its own post, so I would just like to add onto this post that Liu Mingyan is NOT head disciple either.

[atzfilm]

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [3] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); yunho x reader; 10.9k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind. also note: these chapters are very much introductory of each character & their roles, so smut is further down the line ♡.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping, emotional turmoil, injuries, descriptions of gore, needles

Chapter 3:

The days seem to drag on. Rarely do you run into anyone else in the home. Awake at early hours of the morning, grab something from the kitchen, stay in your designated room throughout the day. It's a routine you've made for yourself; none of the Unseelie bother you. They leave you alone to your thoughts, even Wooyoung, surprisingly. So here you are, peeling off the skin of an orange as you sit on the balcony. Tossing it to the ground below, taking slow bites. Do the townspeople worry? Now that you're gone, do they wonder what happened? Has anyone seen the aftermath of your shop – back door ripped from its hinges, bookshelves broken, piled on top of one another? Do they care?

Has Soobin come back yet?

Your eyes move to the loud steps on the porch to the left of you. Yunho stands there with someone. You're not too sure, you've never seen this faerie before. Height matches Yunho's, arms crossed as he speaks. You can't hear what they're arguing about, their eyes flicking up to you. You pause in your eating. Yunho nods, a small smile on his lips. The other doesn't say anything, giving you his back. He leaves the house behind, ignoring the yells of Yunho. Your teeth almost puncture your bottom lip at the sight. You expected him to walk through the barrier they've created, but his clothing shreds in an instant, body disappearing from view. The pieces slowly float to the dirt.

There's no reason for you to be shocked at all since they are Unseelies, but seeing someone dissipate, just like that?

What have you gotten yourself into?

"He's having a moment, no need to be alarmed," Wooyoung says. You jump at the sound of his voice, looking to the side of you. He sits on the railing, leg swinging. "Mingi doesn't like to be put in a situation he can't take control of. Yunho just told him about you staying. He isn't exactly happy about it."

"I didn't choose this," you murmur.

Wooyoung shrugs, "And that's what makes him more angry. You didn't choose to stay so he can't be angry with you. He trusts us, our opinions. So when his own thoughts conflict with ours, it's a lot for him. He then turns into that raven and leaves for a while."

"Hm."

Wooyoung turns to you. His clothing is loose, a brown, sheer robe draping over his lean frame. The shoes are long gone, tan skin shown. You can see the outline of his chest, the transparent material not leaving much to the imagination. If you squint, you're sure there's tattoos decorating his skin. But you look away after the brief silence, not wanting to let your eyes linger on him longer than they have to.

"We're having a harvest celebration soon," he begins. "Other faeries and Unseelies will be joining."

A party at a time like this? And while you're out and about in the hallways? Unseelie aren't tolerant of humans from what you can see. This occasion will only lead to terrible things.

"When?"

"Tonight," he smiles. "Right in our dining hall and parlor. It'll be fun. Happens once a year. You should join, pretty."

"A human celebrating with faeries? Sounds like a recipe for a disaster."

His grin widens, "Even better, no? Everyone in our spark will be there. You'll get to see all of us at once. Instead of avoiding us at every chance you get like you've been doing for the past couple of days. We've all noticed by the way."

"I'm here for Seonghwa’s tests and nothing more. I don't have a reason to go to that party."

"But you do, solaris." The nickname slips off his tongue with ease, as if you didn't yell at him days prior for it. Again, another silly mistake on your part to think he'd ever stop. "Trust me when I say it'll be advantageous to not try to avoid this one. Luck won't be on your side." He waves, sliding off the banister. You look down to see if he landed but he vanished from sight completely. Another thing you haven't exactly gotten used to. Knowing they're Unseelies is one thing, but seeing the magic first hand is another. You stand up from your spot, stomach growling.

This time of day is what you dislike the most – the Unseelie are roaming, doors opening and closing, laughter echoing through the hallways. Instead of it being comforting it only causes you anxiety. Their promises of not hurting you fall on deaf ears. You don’t doubt that whenever they are finished with their experimentation, they will end your life. It is mindless for you to even stick around here.

“Not like I have much of a choice,” you murmur, glancing at your bedroom door. A soft knock startles you, but you walk to it anyway, swinging it open. Seonghwa stands there, eyes flicking over your attire before meeting your eyes. The Unseelie provided you with sleepwear – which you vehemently refused. So you soaked your own clothing in soapy water last night and let it hang dry until early dawn. It’s more than wrinkled, still a little damp from the lack of sunlight in the forest.

“You didn’t take the clothing.” he states. It’s not a question, so you don’t bother answering. His eyes narrow. “You look unkempt.”

“You would say that even if I wore what you gave me.”

“Being stubborn will only get you so far, human. Here,” he holds out a small container, filled with breakfast food. Why it bothers you that he did not deny your words is beyond your own comprehension. “I need you to eat before I pull more samples. Having you faint is not ideal.”

You hesitate. The rules you’ve written down play over and over in your head. The first one on the list that you have no choice but to break. Do not eat what they offer. You take it from him, thanking him quickly. He merely shrugs, turning on his heel.

“Follow me. Close, please. The others are around all late morning into the afternoon and I’d rather not have any distractions pulling you away.”

You take his word for it, sliding an apple slice between your lips as you follow. A loud crash echoes around the hallway and Seonghwa glances to the side for a moment. His brow quirks in irritation, looking back at you. “Ignore him, he’s starting trouble again.”

“I’m not,” Wooyoung’s loud tone echoes through the hallways and you definitely take the advice of Seonghwa, stepping a bit closer to him. Seonghwa enters his lab, holding the door open for you. You step inside and he takes the key from the lock immediately, slipping it into his pocket as he closes the door. He sees the questions in your eyes, and nods.

“If I didn’t we’d have another surprise guest. Yunho will be back soon, so while we wait we should continue with testing. Please take a seat across from that table,” he points further into the room. Just like his library, the lab is neatly organized, books of equal height shelved next to each other, binders of what you can assume is research, labeled and placed in height order. Vials line the wall as you sit, Seonghwa’s steps silent as he sinks in the seat across from you. Between the door and you sitting he somehow changed his clothing, a lab coat covering his attire, sleeves lifted and gloves stretched over his fingers. He holds out his hand, palm up. You place your hand in his, and he thanks you, reaching for the syringe.

“I didn’t think I’d need more blood from you,” he starts, pulling off a tab. He curses to himself, placing it on the table and reaching for a small alcohol pad, wiping off your skin. “But one of my spark took some blood off my shelf, mistakenly with your sample as well.”

You’re not too sure how to feel about your blood being stolen.

He senses your perturbation as well, continuing. “We prefer not to conjure blood curses unless absolutely necessary. Despite us being Unseelie, the process to perform creates a heavy burden on our bodies. As to your blood and well, human blood overall, we use it to aid in potions and other things. Nothing with much substance. San used it to assist with something he was practicing with Yeosang.”

“Your explanation only makes me worry more.” And you haven't the slightest idea on who these people are that he's mentioning.

“No need to, we can’t truly bind you to anything if your mind and soul are not willing,” he lifts a tub, inserting another into the holder. His hand holds your arm, eyes glancing at your upper arm. You cannot see it, but something wraps tightly around it, lifting your skin. He presses his finger against your vein again, before slowly sliding the needle beneath the surface. The pressure is gone as you watch him fill the vials.

“Wooyoung told me you were displeased with the nickname he uses for you,” he glances at you, placing another tube in the holder. “You should be thankful. It’s rare that he cares for something enough to create one.”

“Is it necessary? My name is y/n, nothing more,” you say. “My partner didn’t even call me anything other than my name.”

"He never used nicknames with you." He states matter-of-factly.

"He always thought they were a bit silly," you murmur. You notice Seonghwa gaze lingering on you in the silence. "What? Is that so strange?"

Seonghwa furrows his brows. "Not quite. But I've seen how humans interact. How they create nicknames for ones they are fond of. It seems strange that your partner of several years wouldn't make up something endearing."

His observation makes your thoughts muddle. Soobin cared for you in ways you can’t quite describe. Did it ever bother you that he only called you by your name? Not at all. But the more you dwell on it, the more your stomach turns. You decide to change the conversation. "Are you saying you are fond of me, Seonghwa?"

“I’ve never used a nickname for you.”

You widen your eyes, “Did an Unseelie just lie?”

He scowls. "I’m not lying. Why would I call you anything else?"

“You call me human almost every time you see me. Is that not a nickname?”

Deadpanned, he continues, “Calling you what you are isn’t exactly what I’d consider a nickname, y/n. As I have said before, you are just an experiment.”

"And if I weren't?" you tease, leaning forward. "What's the first thing you think of when you see me? An annoyance? Irritating?" It's only a way to poke his buttons, but he just stares at you, thinking. Quite hard. The silence is long enough that you lean back, clearing your throat. "I was kidding."

"I wouldn't be able to call you anything other than beautiful, y/n, if I were so fond of you. You are kind and merciful, proud and resilient. Human words cannot describe it. I can see why your former partner adored you; it's hard not to."

You're not sure what else to say, his words more than shocking. He cannot lie. He believes everything he just said. And that scares you.

"You're afraid," He says simply.

"Yes."

"Of?"

What a hard question. "This. What you just said."

"I can't see why. Beauty comes in many forms," he explains, sliding out the needle. He grabs a small square of gauze, pressing it lightly into your arm. "It would be foolish of me not to see it in you. Have you forgotten that before all of this that us two were friends? Even if it was manufactured by me at the time, it shouldn't be surprising that I feel this way. I've seen how you've interacted with other humans. You are kind, patient, soft spoken. You fear what you cannot predict, but you don't let it stop you from continuing. Even now, you are worried about a bookstore that is not even yours. I am not lying when I say that I find your existence beautiful in itself. Humans are often selfish. But you, you seem the opposite."

He places a bandaid over the hole, "Done for now."

You nod slowly, holding your arm close. Seonghwa pushes the food closer to you, standing up and taking the vials. Not often are you left speechless. From what you know, what you've read, Unseelie do not love the same way as humans. He probably doesn't understand how words like that could affect you. Yes, that's right. It's an objective look, an affirming statement. Nothing more than observations.

Seonghwa moves to the door, opening it. Yunho enters, resting his jacket on the coat rack. His eyes relax when they meet yours, waving. "There you are, pretty girl. Sorry for my late arrival. Our meeting lasted longer than deemed necessary. Quite annoying," he glances at Seonghwa. "The tests are what we talked about, correct?"

Oh.

The two of them talk to each other, but your mind is stuck. Glued even. How could he let those two words just slide from his lips? Pretty. Girl. No. Your mind is playing tricks on you, you decide. Yunho is kind, sweet even. But that? That.

You can't even begin to fathom the reason.

"y/n?"

You're pulled out of the depth that is your thoughts, Seonghwa waiting. "Do you feel faint? Should we wait until you've eaten more? You look as if you've seen a specter."

You shake your head. "No. I'm good. Perfect even." The grin you plaster on your cheeks must be horrendous, Seonghwa’s lips forming a scowl.

"We'll continue, then. You would think that a human being able to lie meant that they could perform it with ease. That doesn't seem to be your case, though."

This time you frown. "Thanks for that, Seonghwa."

He shrugs. "Truth hurts. Yunho will perform his tests now with you. I'm not needed for this, so I'll be in my library. Hesitate to bother me, please." He exits, tossing the key to Yunho. Said man locks the door, turning to you.

"Is he always this grumpy?" You ask.

"Unfortunately yes. Shall we begin?"

-

The test is simple.

Yunho holds out his hand, you take his. His eyes rest on yours as he tries to listen to your thoughts. It's easy enough, not much that you need to do. The others have said it failed previously, so it's very likely that it may fail again this time around. The likelihood of it does not settle your heart though. It still thumps against your chest as it always does when any of them are around. A defense mechanism, sure. No way for you to control it. Your palms aren't free from the nerves either, clammy. You wipe them on your pants for the nth time.

"If I can listen it'll prove enough. My perception abilities only go so far. I'm not as majikly inclined compared to San or Mingi. Rarely do I ever use it, I won't linger longer than I need to."

"Do you promise?" It may be an empty one, but you must be sure. It'll help your heart stop hammering against your chest.

"Of course. A test now and nothing more," he assures you, palm resting on the table, waiting for your hand. The moment is slow, your palm dropping onto his. He lets his long fingers curl into yours. "Look at me, pretty girl."

"...Can I talk?" You ask, and he nods.

You meet his gaze. The brown of his eyes and hair begin to slowly change. Brown darkening into a deep burgundy, lighting up the more you look at him. The situation is strange in itself, but his eyes are still kind.

"Why do you call me that?" You ask.

His lips quirk, "Pretty girl?"

Your fingers tighten slightly in his hold, before nodding. "Yes. That."

"I overheard the conversation between you and Seonghwa. How your former partner never called you anything special. I thought it was… weird, I suppose. Since I first saw you, I thought you were pretty. And," he glances away from you for a moment. Your mind must be playing games – pink begins to dust his cheek. No way. He wouldn't be blushing, would he? No. Just a trick of the eye. Probably because of his red hair. "It's the first thing that came to mind when I saw you sitting here waiting for me. I couldn't help it. I do find you pretty, y/n. It shouldn't be that strange to you."

You use your free hand to rub the frown lines on your face. "Ah. No. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"Why?"

"I mean, Yunho…" It's hard to explain when he's looking at you like that.

Guilt begins to rise. You shouldn't be this way. But the more you listen to him, the more wrong you feel. It's only been a few months without Soobin. Entertaining someone, especially a faerie, an Unseelie… you can't. Not when you really haven't moved past your ex-boyfriend. You still think of him daily. No matter how warm someone else looks at you, you just can't. Not now.

"I hope you keep that nickname to yourself," you say. "I don't think I want to hear it from you."

"Oh," you don't notice the change in his expression. It's subtle. Brows slightly arching, an irritated twitch of his lips. It disappears when you look at him. "I never wish to make you uncomfortable."

"You don't make me uncomfortable," you state this plainly, sure to keep your tone neutral. "But I'm just not used to things like that. I hope you understand."

"I do," he nods. "But if there comes a time when you're not so hesitant, please tell me. I wouldn't mind calling you that instead of your name, y/n."

It's no surprise his simple words make your heart skip a beat.

"Okay. Thank you for listening to me," you say. His head tilts, eyes still on yours.

"No need. Still can't read those thoughts of yours," Finally looking away, he sighs. His fingers slip from yours, the warmth gone. "I guess we'll have to try something else. Or just wait and see what Seonghwa has found."

Just like that. You pull your hand back into your lap and enclasp your fingers. Hoping that same warm feeling will come back somehow.

Silly.

"What will you do when you find out?" You ask.

He thinks. "Figure out a way to stop humans from having your trait, ability, whatever it may be. Your existence is one thing. If you're one in a billion, a slip in the evolution process, then that's fine to us. We just can't have it happen over and over again, you see. But I'm sure you know the reason why. You're not a selfish one."

He stands, adjusting his shirt. "You didn't eat much. May I…?"

You look at the assortment of fruit Seonghwa gave you, most just picked at. You nod, expecting him to grab the ones you haven't really touched. Instead, he takes one of the apple slices you've bitten already, sliding it between his lips.

"Tasty," he grins. "You taste good."

You can't control your blinks, confusion etched into your features. No, you couldn't have heard that right. No. So many thoughts cross your mind, many not too appropriate for the situation you're in at this very moment. Yunho grabs another fruit you bit into, humming. "Sweet."

Your eyes widen.

"Something wrong?" He asks, darkened eyes staring unrelentingly. The air in the room feels denser, thickened with his mere look. You can't look away even if you want to, fingers digging into your pants.

"I put the samples away," Seonghwa enters the room. Yunho breaks eye contact with you and you let out a long breath, chest throbbing from how hard your heart was racing. Yunho's expression is back to how it usually is, soft eyes following Seonghwa’s walk. As if he did not just freeze you into this very spot. If Seonghwa notices anything he doesn't say a word, grabbing his fleece off a chair and sliding his arms inside.

"Hongjoong wants to see you." He looks to you, gaze roaming over your clothing. "I would prefer if you wore something more appropriate when meeting him. Dressing as you are now is a bad look."

"He wouldn't care if she wore nothing, Seonghwa," Yunho shrugs. "You know that. And there's nothing wrong with her attire now. You cannot expect her to scroll around with those horrid faerie clothing you've given her. None of it fits properly."

"I said that I would prefer it. Hongjoong is a different character," Seonghwa rolls his eyes. "But it doesn't matter. He wants to see you now, so there's no use in trying to change. Come, human. Yunho, San needs you to help with the decor. Jongho is having another fit."

Yunho's jolly expression breaks for a second, an irritated twitch in his brow. "Has he broken the lighting again?" He nods, a groan escaping him. "Perfect." He bows his head at you before leaving.

"Come," Seonghwa turns to you. "Or would you rather help with the mess?"

"I'd rather not be here at all."

Seonghwa cracks a smile, "Don't we all?"

You stand from your spot. Just as you're about to leave, Seonghwa hesitates. You cannot utter a word because he starts first.

"Take his words with caution. Hongjoong is a character to say the least. Though most of us are straightforward with our words, Hongjoong likes to play a lot with it. You cannot be sure of what's next to come out."

"What are you telling me this for? To run?"

He turns around. The solemn expression makes your own mask slip. "If needed, yes. I will not be far unless someone pulls me away. But on the off chance that I'm not around, don't waste time to leave. The barrier is gone right now. You'd have a better time escaping the woods than staying with him."

"He's your leader, no?"

Seonghwa nods, "And this is why I'm telling you what I am. Be careful, y/n. You are a mere rabbit in his eyes. Nothing more than that."

—

Seonghwa’s words repeat over and over in your head. A mere rabbit. Prey. You're not foolish to know that your stay here is temporary. Hiding your anxiety at the situation is what you've done, what you've been doing. But having to pretend in front of the leader, holding back your fear? You don't even know what he looks like.

Why did Soobin make you go to that stupid festival?

He is just on the other side of that door. All you have to do is knock. That's all. Your hand hovers over the wood.

The door swings open. You expect to see someone standing there but instead, there's no one. You slowly enter, glancing back. Seonghwa left you alone to deal, unfortunately. Just as you move out of the door's proximity, it closes itself, locking. You can help but let out a low laugh. Mythical creatures being real is something you'd never wrap your head around. The hallway is dark, luminescence peeking from underneath a door further away. You take another long breath, before opening it yourself. Immediately, your eyes move to him.

He is Unlike the others, that you can see. When you first learned of him, you thought he would be stern, rigid. Instead, you stand at the doorway to his spell room – a clap echoing as he stares at the table filled with vast ingredients.

"Finally," he breathes. "Took three hellish hours. Ah," He pauses.

He turns to you, wholly black gaze blinking away into a softer brown. The sight isn't terrifying in itself – it just scares you that you cannot distinguish him from another human, aside from his quiet beauty. He hides his potions away, leaning against the tabletop. You do not say a word in fear of upsetting him. He seems to notice this, head tilting as he stares at you.

"Oh, so you are the dear, pitiful human that has gotten my spark all ruffled up? What to do with you?" He smiles.

It is all but friendly.

His stature is on the shorter side compared to the rest of the Unseelie you've met thus far, about Wooyoung's height. His black hair is wild, strands scattered about, some tucked behind his ears. A seemingly permanent sly smile coating his lips. You can see why he's their leader. Charisma oozes from him despite having said no more than two sentences. Two sentences that have left you utterly speechless. Choosing your words carefully, you finally speak.

"I've heard some things about you," you say. A sleek brow of his lifts at your words, daring you to continue. You take the challenge. "Hongjoong, leader of your spark."

His grin is slow, eyes flicking between yours as it widens. His tongue drags across his lips, playing with the piercing hooked into the bottom one. A quick glance and you see several – studs lining his ears, fingers covered with golden jewels. A small amulet resting on where his pulse beats on. "In the flesh. Humans haven't seen me in centuries. You should be proud to even grace my presence, my pretty star." He glances behind you. "Everyone else seems interested in you as well. It took many of months to finally see you for myself. I have to admit, I do see the unwavering appeal. Ordinary looking, but there's something," his eyes roam over your outfit. "Your aura, maybe. What do you think, Mingi?"

"I think we should get ready, Hongjoong."

You tense up at the deep voice, looking back. Well, looking up. Mingi stands not a breath away from you, barely giving you a glance as you stare up at him. His golden clothing is as wispy as Wooyoung's, sheer against his chest and darkening as it flows down. You take a step to the side to bring some distance between the two of you, heart racing. You're only startled every time one of them pops up. And from the disappearance act you witnessed earlier, Mingi can make himself do it with ease. You would expect someone of his size to at least make a bit of noise when he enters a room. His blonde hair is neatly slicked down, mossy green markings starting at the curve of his jaw, covering the rest of his body. Mingi clears his throat and you look away from him.

The tales didn't mention that Unseelie were all unnaturally beautiful. Though it does make sense. You can't see how humans will follow them to their deaths otherwise. Even you, knowing what you do, are already falling without trying.

Falling for their traps, you correct yourself. Nothing more than that.

"Ah, and I assume that she will be joining us?" Hongjoong glances at you. "It'll be a very interesting gathering."

"Chaotic to say the least," Mingi sighs softly. "We should just lock her in her room until sunrise. The others will smell her, but there will be spells and other spoils to deter them. I'd hate to have to care for the human all night."

"I'm not a child," you frown.

Mingi does not bother looking in your direction nor acknowledge your response, "Wooyoung should watch her, not I."

"Neither of you are watching her. Yunho will be by her side most of the night."

Mingi's eyes widen briefly, "Hongjoong, is that the best choice at this time–"

"Take her back to her room to get ready," Hongjoong turns to you. "We've prepared a few outfits for you to try. It'll help you blend in more with the rest of us. If any are unsatisfactory, I'll have Yeosang conjure up another. Until you are satisfied with your choice."

You shake your head, "Not needed–"

"I want my star to shine bright tonight, y/n. You will not be dull when everyone else is watching. I bid you adieu–" He giggles. "I've always wanted to say that." He looks back at Mingi. “We’ll talk after you drop her off and get ready yourself, there’s much to do to prepare."

"Hongjoong…" He sighs. The leader does not bother saying anything else, turning back to his assortment of potions. Mingi finally looks at you. "Please follow me."

"I know where my room is," Your words are neither heard nor acknowledged, Mingi disappearing back into the dim hallway. You follow after swiftly, his pace much faster than yours.

You stumble after him through the hallways, passing by your designated room. "Hey, Min…"

He stops. His steps are quick, barely a breath away from you. You step back as he steps forward, your back hitting the wall. Anger resides in his eyes as he stares down at you. "You do not utter my name. You do not acknowledge me outside of forced interactions by one of the others. We do not speak to each other unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?"

Your fear is a good enough answer for him. He moves back, gesturing to the door behind you. "Yeosang prepared your outfit in a different room since the others are lurking around yours right now. Get dressed, Yunho will be here promptly to explain how to act properly in front of the other faeries." He leaves you, dissipating right in front of your eyes. You can feel how your heart beats against your chest. You blink, hand reaching for the knob and turning it open. You close it behind you, back against the wood.

It's too much. All of this is just. too. much.

—

"What is your goal?"

"I am just trying to have a successful gathering. Is that too much to ask for, Mingi?" Hongjoong stares at the potions on the table, deep in thought. "She will be here for quite a while anyway. It's better to show them that we have everything in order rather than attempting to hide her."

"You told Seonghwa you did not care for her and wanted her gone. And now you're compromising Yunho's sanity because you want to get back at us, is that it?"

Hongjoong’s brow twitches at Mingi's words. "You know I would never put you in danger. Any of you."

"Then why are you now?"

Hongjoong finally looks away from his table, eyes flicking up to Mingi's. "You question me?"

He sighs, rubbing his face, "I just want to know your reasoning. You know well what he means to me."

"I am beginning to wonder," Hongjoong steps closer to Mingi. He lets his hand rest on his cheek, thumb rubbing the skin slowly. Mingi's eyelids flutter at his touch, leaning into it. "If any of you truly trust me. Yunho has been so misguided, removed from modern society. We all know how he tore that Seelie apart. It wouldn't have happened if he had the chance to leave, to experience things like us. We isolated him to the point of inner destruction. Him keeping by the human’s side is a test, yes. One of self control. I need to see how he will fair when he is beside someone he desires and yet cannot have. I have to test his temperament before I decide what to do next, Mingi. This is for him."

Mingi covers Hongjoong’s hand with his, "I trust you. I just have one more question."

"Speak it."

"What is your plan? With the human?"

Hongjoong bares a sliver of his teeth, black irises only deepening. "Everyone is enthralled with her. It's my chance to have my own fun."

—

You stare in the mirror at yourself.

Right as you pulled the slacks over your finger, it adjusted itself to your body. The Unseelie you've met have only worn sheer clothing around you and this is no different. It would make you uncomfortable if you didn't see how it clearly hides sensitive parts of your body, leaving it to the imagination. Still, it is unlike you. You're used to something different. Your pile of clothes next to the bathroom door is all the more alluring as you gaze at yourself. Heavy bags beneath your eyes from lack of sleep, hands that are endlessly shaky. You look tired.

Exhausted.

A light knock on your door pulls you away from those pesky thoughts that were soon to move to your Soobin. You clear your throat, giving yourself a look once more before rushing to the door after a second knock.

You open it to Yunho. He looks cleaned up, hair neatly tossed, a small curl resting on his forehead. He wears an outfit very similar to yours but much more sheer and revealing, your face glued on his. His flicks over yours briefly. You think you see a light blush coating his cheeks.

"Faerie clothing suits you," he says softly. "I will respect your wishes and not say anything more."

You let out a breath, "You think? I feel like it looks silly."

True shock coats his face, "No. You look fine. You," He struggles with his wording and you can only smile at him. He sighs, rubbing his cheeks. "You are … breathtaking."

“You’re flattering me,” you look away from him, quickly coming up with something else to pull him away from those thoughts. “When is the party?”

“It started an hour or so ago,” Yunho says simply, taking in your shocked expression. “They are all awaiting your arrival, y/n. It should be quite fun.”

If your heart could sink any further, it would. “Waiting? I’m not a special guest, I just found out about this tonight. I –” You barely ate breakfast, but it feels as if your insides are about to come out. It only makes sense that Hongjoong would catch you off guard like this. It makes complete sense, but why would he? Does he expect you to fail this test, or whatever it is?

“You’re letting your thoughts run from you,” Yunho says. “Don’t leave yourself behind.”

“I don’t want to do this,” you admit. “At all.”

“Neither do I,” he sighs simply, glancing behind him. “But it’s out of my control. This Gathering of ours has been planned for months on end. Hongjoong loves masquerade balls to discuss important matters with other Unseelie and Faeries. In fact, pardon me – ” Yunho steps inside the room, closing the door behind him. “Wouldn’t want unsavory ears to listen to my words.”

You notice the masks in his hands now, “Masquerade?”

“Yes, a lot of faeries are shy without it, believe it or not,” he glances between your eyes. “Do you mind if I place yours?”

You shake your head, and he smiles. He takes his time, making sure it fits comfortably over your eyes before tying it in the back. “Too tight?” he asks softly. His lips barely hover over your ears as he asks. With a quick swallow, you shake your head. “Perfect.” He ties it with ease, moving back. Somehow between that time he’s put his over his eyes, looking over you once.

“Unrecognizable?” You tease.

“I’d recognize you in any room. As Mingi told you, I'll explain briefly what will happen. Since you are the only human that will be there, eyes will follow you. I won't be leaving your side all night in the event one of them tries something unsavory. And though I will be watching, please don't hesitate to tell me if you feel that something is wrong."

"Is this dangerous, me being around them?"

"Our spark isn't dangerous, but many others are. We all use humans in many ways, y/n. We as a species aren't the kindest to yours."

You're glad he's explaining it all to you. But it doesn't lessen your fear at all. "You won't leave me alone?"

"I won't. Be yourself, y/n. It'll go well. Shall we go?” he holds out his arm. You slip yours beneath his with ease, fingers lightly touching his sleeve. His outfit isn’t transparent like the rest you’ve seen, a solid satin blue. Still it leaves nothing to the imagination, securely fit to his body. Your nerves catch up to you as you walk through the hallways to the opposite side of the house you haven’t been to yet. All doors are ajar, many attendees you have yet to set your eyes on. Most shift their gaze to watch Yunho escort you to the main hall. All of this is too much too soon, your nails sinking into his arm without you noticing. Running is not an option. No matter how much you want it to be.

No matter how close he stands to you, how much they speak to you, you are alone.

“Hey,” Yunho stops walking. You look up at him. “You’re holding on a bit tight there, y/n.”

You look at your grip, noticing that it’s tight enough to break skin. Just as you begin to pull back he covers your hand with his free one, shaking his head. “Hold on to me if you need to. It doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m sorry–”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all. Hold on to me, y/n. I’m here.” You feel the stares, feel them glued to your back as you look up at him. “Hear me?”

“…Yes,” you whisper. You close your eyes for a moment. “Okay. We can go.”

He squeezes your hand before letting go, moving forward. The gazes are still burning into him and yourself, but you pretend not to notice. Ignore how much it bothers you. How silly it is – trusting an Unseelie, a man you barely know. How much you’re relying on his arm to steady yourself, his words to keep you calm. How with just a few months, you’ve let someone else other than Soobin help you.

You enter the grandeur hall.

It’s massive; chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, jewels and cold everywhere you look. Tables filled with faeries speaking amongst one another, laughter throughout the area. Yunho pulls you forward through the crowds. He seems to command a presence here – faeries without prompt giving him a pathway. They continue to talk but you hear whispers in languages you cannot understand. The word human sticks out. Still he pulls you along to the front of the room. There a banquet table sits, nine seats lined side by side. Hongjoong sits in the middle of the table, literally. He rests himself on top of the table, legs cross as he speaks to an unfamiliar faerie in front of him. You barely get a chance to look at the rest sitting there, one at the far end startling you. He stares at you with such disgust, a scowl seemingly permanently carved into his face.

“You’ve made it,” Hongjoong says, tilting his head around the faerie to look at you. “And how lovely you are.”

“I would say the same, but it will only boost your ego.”

The faerie in front of him widens their eyes. Hongjoong smile slips, waving them away. They leave without a second thought. He stands, brown eyes dissipating within an instant. The black stares at you as he moves closer. You shift your body towards Yunho, his head slightly shifting to the movement.

“You will hold your tongue in front of me,” Hongjoong says. “Do you understand me, human?”

“Yes.” You say, looking away. Not missing a beat, his smile slides back.

“Perfect, I hope you enjoy the rest of the party. It will be more than entertaining. I must leave now to tend to the other guests. Please let the others introduce themselves to you – we all will be seeing a lot of you for quite a while.” He bows to Yunho. Yunho bows, stepping to the side to let Hongjoong mingle.

“You could draw blood from that fearsome gaze of yours,” Yunho whispers, nudging your shoulder. “Even I am petrified.”

“I, sorry,” you say again, sucking in a breath. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for your expressions y/n. Hongjoong was just…” he thinks for a moment. “You know of his status, no?”

“He is the leader of your spark.”

“Yes, but he is not only the leader of the eight of us. He is the head of Unseelie, y/n. There is not one faerie within this room who would defy him. So those words in front of another faerie, challenging his status at an event,” he quirks his brow.

Oh how you wish you could crawl out of your skin. You turn back, watching as all the masked party guests bow as he passes, his laughter echoing around the room. Charisma oozes from him, yes, but so does pure unrivaled power. A passerby gives him a glass and he takes it within a breath. You look at Yunho.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Yunho snickers, shaking his head, “He will entertain himself with the others. Worry not.”

“Solaris!” An irritating familiar voice echoes through the hall. Without a second to beat he throws his body into yours, wrapping his arms around you. His giggles echo around you, squeezing quite tight before letting go. He pulls back, the same grin still on his face. Wooyoung steps back for a moment, eyes flicking over your attire. “As always you are a beautiful sunset.”

“You cannot calm yourself even at a party?” Yunho frowns. He feels the emptiness of your arm since you’ve let go to steady yourself from Wooyoung’s attack. The absence of your warmth is not comforting. Only annoying him further. You seem not to notice at all though. Between your exasperation at him slamming himself into you, Yunho can see the tension in your shoulders ease. He just wishes that he were the one to do it, not him.

“My pretty solaris is shining, Yunho,” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him. “I cannot believe that Hongjoong made him your bodyguard when I am here!” He sighs, sitting in the spot Hongjoong once was. His mask rests on the top of his head. He holds out a drink for you and you take it, eyeing it.

“Is it alcohol?”

“Faeries do not really enjoy it since we don’t get intoxicated like humans. And it tastes disgusting,” Wooyoung murmurs. “This is a tonic of concentrated fruits. Sweet, but does nothing to humans.” He encourages you.

You trust his words only because you know he cannot lie, taking a sip. It’s sweet, but not off-putting. “Tasty,” you point out. Yunho takes the other resting on the table, sitting next to Wooyoung. He widens his eyes, digging in his pocket.

Yunho smiles at you, “I almost forgot. Hand.”

"Hand?" You shoot him a quizzical look. He holds out his to you, waiting. You're sure he'd wait forever until you place yours upon his so you do so, his large hand covers yours entirely. At first, you feel a soothing feeling across your skin. The warmth rises in temperature, just enough to the point where it's bearable, but sweaty. He stares at your enclosed hands. With a small whistle, they begin to illuminate in the dark, swirling around your skin before disappearing into the air. His eyes flick to yours, a sunset staring back at you.

"Pretty, no?" He grins, squeezing your hand once. "It took me a bit since I'm not an expert at majik like the others. Yeosang helped me with the spell, and San helped me cast."

Their names mean close to nothing to you now. You're very sure they will in the future, though. Close future, from the gazes around you.

"What's it for?"

His grin widens, then. "To impress a pretty human. And it will help me keep an eye on you if you ever leave my sight tonight. I will take it away once this gathering ends."

You tuck it in your front pocket.

“You’ve made it,” Wooyoung says, looking behind you. You don’t exactly need to guess who it is, the quiet movement enough for you to pinpoint. His conversation, well, threat, from earlier is enough for you not to acknowledge him at all. Instead, you move a bit closer to Yunho’s side. “You said you hate parties.”

“I do,” his deep voice murmurs. You take a quick glance at Mingi. He avoids your gaze entirely, hands tucked in his pockets. “But Hongjoong insisted. No matter how much I tell him my presence here will only put the others on edge.”

You look behind him. Still the eyes are on yours, but you see others observing Mingi. Many look away quickly. How much fear does the Unseelie resonate?

“They would be on edge anyway since they are in our residence,” Yunho shrugs. “y/n’s presence along with ours brings more questions than answers. None are brave enough to speak about it though. Secures our status.”

You speak, “Even if they asked, I have nothing to say.”

Yunho smiles, “I can pick one thing you’d be able to shock them with.”

Ah, right. Resistant to faeries. Your eyes flick over to one Unseelie who sits at the table. He’s beautiful, to say the least. Black hair in wisps, resting at the bottom of his neck, silver jewelry wrapped around strands. A peak of what looks like a birthmark on the side of one of his eyes, stretching to his temple. His brown eyes are not looking at yours at all, focused on your lower face. As you stare, it looks like he’s watching your lips. You look away.

His head rests on his hands as he watches you speak to Wooyoung. Your words are quick, annoyance drawn on your face when he twists your words, often vulgar. He only laughs at the expression, continuing his rant. Yeosang himself and the others are used to his antics, his quick words and joking tone. He quite honestly thought you'd be deterred by it, but you match his wit in an instant, sometimes causing Wooyoung to falter, skip words. Yeosang can't help but grin, eyes steady on yours. You look to the side, meeting his interested gaze.

"Yeosang doesn't speak much," Wooyoung starts. "Especially when I'm talking."

"Maybe because you can never stop," Yunho hums from behind him.

"Nice to meet you, Yeosang," you hold out your hand. Yeosang's brows furrow at the gesture. Humans are often disgusted with faeries, especially one of the Unseelies. You extend out your hand with such ease, well, it makes him confused. The time must have passed long enough for it to be uncomfortable, your hand sliding back away.

He reaches out before you place it back on your side, his fingers gripping yours softly in a quick shake.

Your skin is quite soft, he thinks.

“You are not afraid of me,” he states, his hand dropping from yours. “Why?”

“Should I be?” you question. It lingers in the air, eyes briefly moving to Yunho’s for assistance. He merely shrugs, your gaze moving back to Yeosang’s. “I’m not immediately afraid of an Unseelie. Not anymore.”

“That’s delightful! It’s all me, by the way,” Wooyoung grins, interrupting. Mingi meets his eyes for a moment, gesturing to the side. He sighs, hopping off the table. “I would love to mingle more, but Hongjoong needs me. I’ll see you all soon enough. Yeosang, he needs you as well.”

“Just a moment,” Yeosang waves him off. He pats his pocket, putting out a small map. “Can you read this?” he holds it out to you. He seems insistent on it, gaze sharp. “Humans are able to, not Unseelies.”

“Oh…?” You take it from him. You can read it easily, some words more advanced than you’re used to, but it’s all legible.

“Now is not the time, Yeosang,” Mingi murmurs, rubbing his eyes beneath the mask. “Not at a party.”

“It is just for a moment. If she knows, then she’ll be able to assist me. So, human?” Yeosang asks, turning back to you. “Can you understand the writing?”

–

A threat.

That's his first thought as he stares at you across from the room. The reason why the others are on edge, wary. A human with a strange allure. He would have eradicated you immediately if it weren't for their affinity towards you. His frown only seems to deepen when he sees Yeosang's lip quirk at something you've said. His eyes widened at the look, silent shock. His friend isn't one to attempt to grow closer to anyone. In fact, he's even more surprised that Yeosang is here in the first place. The Unseelie hides in his room often, rarely interacting unless necessary. The smile on his lips confuses him.

His fingers dig into his forearms. Despite how exhausting it is to be around you, he can't help it. The looks you send the others, the shaking of your hands as you point to the map. The smile that is barely there.

Why is he aching to touch you?

“Sulking in the corner is not a good look,” Jongho appears next to him, arms crossed. “You know that she can see you. You’re not so far away to go unnoticed.”

“She’s infuriating,” San frowns, watching as Mingi pulls Yeosang away from the rest of them, into the direction of Hongjoong. “Why bring her around all of these faeries? Some are bound to realize that she is not like any other human. I don’t doubt that they might already know. What is the endgame, the solution? Why is he doing this?”

“Hongjoong has a strange way of thinking,” Jongho says, watching you with the others. “But he is wise above many. It took me a while to determine exactly why he would introduce a human to this world of ours. And I’ve finally figured it out.”

“Don’t keep it to yourself.”

“Not even a small guess?” Jongho frowns.

“Jongho…”

“Fine,” he sighs. “He wants to show them that our position will not be challenged nor should ever be. If we have a human captured that is not affected by any of us and still fears us, yet joins us on these events. They will see where we stand. They will start to question if we know of more, if she is a halfling. So many inquiries and yet all are too afraid to speak up. It will keep them subdued for now. Delay their anger for the incident from the other night. Distract them enough to keep it calm.”

"Is there any news on the Seelie?" San asks.

"Much. Yeosang and Wooyoung are on their way to take care of it. They will be gone for quite a bit until it's solved."

San watches Yeosang leave the room after Wooyoung. The Unseelie seems to sense his gaze, turning around to meet it. Neither of them say anything, but Jongho sees San's expression shift. Worry. Yeosang merely nods at the look, disappearing from view. It is what he has always done to calm him down. But San's worry just continues to pile on as it continuously has.

"We should have gone with them too," San murmurs, looking back at you. "A trio at least. If one of them were injured the other one wouldn't be able to leave."

"Hongjoong made the call. It will be fine."

"As fine as a human resistant to our charms waltzing around faeries that want to consume her, fine? Something will happen tonight."

Jongho grows serious at his words. "Have you seen it?"

"No. That's the issue Jongho. I can feel everyone else's in this room. But with her, there is nothing. Not even a hint. That only happens for me if the person is destined to die suddenly. If that doesn't worry you, I don't know what will. It makes me think of that movie, the one with the blood sucking faeries. How the main character couldn’t penetrate her mind because she had a shield."

Jongho deadpans, "You really need to stop consuming human media. It's making you lose your mind and credibility."

San sends him a toothy grin. "You're just upset you don't understand my references."

"Oh I do, a little too well unfortunately. There's only so much of it that you say that won't stick. I'm still upset you made me watch that movie. What was it, Dracula?"

San looks away, momentarily distracted. "Yes! We should watch it again."

"And this is why Hongjoong didn't tell you to go with them," he murmurs, easily maneuvering out of San’s shove. "In all seriousness, I am worried. You cannot witness the future because she is in it. I don't like the odds." Jongho looks to the side, eyes narrowing. "So much for the delay of anger, especially since some uninvited guests arrived."

—

"Stay close and don’t say a word," Yunho stands up from the table, shifting you behind him. Mingi turns around, relaxed expression tightening. You can’t quite see over their shoulders, most of the crowd hiding your view from what’s exactly going on. Mingi's hand slips to his side. You notice the handle of what you can only guess is a sword, his fingers wrapped around it as he stares forward. The crowd is hushed now, bated breaths. What exactly are they facing, and why is everyone on edge?

The familiar smooth voice of Hongjoong breaks the silence, “You show yourself here?”

“We were not invited, we presumed it was just a mistake.” The person responds slowly, deliberately. Yunho’s arm wraps around your shoulder, pressing you tightly to his side. “We heard that you have a human within this area.”

“Is that any of your business?” MIngi hisses. Your gaze shifts to the side, seeing the angry Unseelie that was standing in the corner appear next to Mingi. “You were not invited for a reason, Seelie.”

“Is that the way to speak to your brother?” The voice laughs. Hongjoong appears in front of you in a blink, standing next to Mingi. He does not acknowledge you behind him, but your eyes flick down. His hand waves slightly, as if gesturing for you to leave. Yunho stands still, a slight shake to his head. “You protect it from my sight?”

“Yeonjun, you know your kind is not allowed at these events, why appear? Everyone in this room is disgusted by you,” Hongjoong says simply, a small smile on his lips. “Uppity faeries who believe they are above us all. You stink up the place.”

The air feels tender, your heart beating quicker. No matter how much you try to control it it just hammers on and on. There is little doubt that the Seelie cannot hear you. The Unseelie around you seem to know it as well, all of their hands shifting to weapons that rest on their sides.

“Let me see the human.”

“No,” Hongjoong raises his brow. “You have no presence nor authority here.”

“Is it wise to hide it from me after you have butchered my people? Wooyoung was his name, yes? And Yunho is lucky that I am being so kind despite the massacre that he created.”

Yunho’s hand around you loosens slightly at his name being uttered.

“Seelie attacked the human unwarranted and without notifying us. They were in our territory. It was our right,” Mingi states simply. “He did what needed to be done.”

“Did he? We visited the location shortly after, Mingi. It was utterly drenched and soiled.”

“Enough,” Hongjoong holds up his hand, “What is it that you desire? To see the human? Is that all?”

“That is all,” the Seelie states.

“Fine. Mingi, move. Yunho, let her go.”

Questions rise in Yunho’s eyes. With great hesitance, he lets his hand drop from your arm. Hongjoong slides his hand into yours, stepping forward. Your momentary shock at him touching you all vanishes when you meet the eyes of the Seelie in front of you. You expected the grotesque figure like before, but he is anything but. Matching the height of Mingi, he stands. His hair neon green, slicked back. Small strands brush his cheek as he looks down at you, white eyes alarming. Despite that, he is beautiful. Ethereally so. He holds your gaze, a smirk forming.

“You are the human they have started a war for?”

“It has not come to that, Yeonjun,” Mingi starts, hushed immediately by Hongjoong.

“Oh but it has, Mingi. Unless you provide me with a small favor.”

“No,” Yunho says between his teeth, standing by your side. “I will not allow you to take her away.”

“Why? What is so special about the human? Why are you risking your people for its existence? Does it have something I cannot see with my eyes? Or does it have to deal with her being resistant to our charms?”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Whatever do you mean?”

Yeonjun’s smile drops. “I have coerced her to let go of your hand several times but she looks at me as if I’m a ghost.”

“How unfortunate that not every being will drop to their knees for you. You must truly be disappointed.”

Yeonjun merely rolls his eyes, hands tucked in his suit jacket pockets. He glazes over the crowd, stepping forward. The crowd backs up from his movement until they can no longer. He stands in front of a small child, bending down to stare at them. “I can read between the lines, Unseelie leader. I can see how you avoid my inquiries. So if you will not allow me to take the human, perhaps I will take one of these other things for my use.” Just as he is about to touch the child, you move forward slightly. Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tightens tenfold, a bruise imminent.

“Let the child go,” you say.

Yeonjun turns around, grin widening. “Oh, she speaks. It is all too bad, though, you did not speak up quickly enough.” He raises his hand. All of your gazes turn. An adult faerie rises in the air. Before any of the Unseelie next to you can move, Yeonjun snaps his fingers. You look away from the sight, a cry falling from your lips at the mere sound. Flesh splatters across the walls and guests, their cries much louder than yours.

“Yunho, go!” Hongjoong says above the shouts of the crowd. “Take her out of here,” he lets go of your hand, throwing your body into the trembling Yunho’s. You look at him, eyes glossed over. His eyes flick up to yours, shaking his head.

“I can’t.”

You barely get the chance to convince him to go, Yunho grabbed by a Seelie in the crowd. This one as horrid as the others you’ve witnessed. You look around for an escape, the ajar door too far away for you to go. So instead, you turn to the side, shoes sliding against the hardwood as you navigate around everyone running every which way. The sound of bodies exploding fills your ears, tears running down your cheeks. It is all too much to take in now, but your body does. It barely holds itself together as you push through the people. Someone grabs the back of your shirt, dragging you to the floor. Your head slams against it, eyes losing focus.

“This is your fault,” The Seelie spits, stepping harshly on your hand. It grabs your face, pulling you up from the floor. “My people have died for such a silly little human. You have started a war, don’t you know this?” You look down, leaves slowly rising from the floor. The moist leaves begin to rise, wrapping around your wrists.

“I didn’t.”

It drops you to the floor, turning around. It’s too late, another Unseelie appearing. He grips its neck, slamming it against the wall. "Beg."

His grip on its neck is tight as he holds it up against the wall, other hand stationary on his side. His eyes narrow as they stare into the Seelie's. You can only stare, hands still entangled in the tightened seaweed. His lip curls, a glint in his eyes. The Seelie makes no attempt to utter a sound. He hums, fingers digging into its neck.

"Look away, y/n," his voice is softer as he acknowledges you, eyes flicking to the side. "Unless you want to see its death." A crack echoes in the air just as you close your eyes. The body makes a loud thump, hitting the concrete. He steps to you, pulling the leaves off your wrists with ease. He wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground. You hiss at your wound pressing into him slightly.

"You can open your eyes now," he says. "Sorry about that. Didn't expect any of them to be hanging around you when there’s a lot more chaos to be dealt with. Thought we killed them all off, to be honest," he glances behind him.

His gaze moves to yours. Blood covers your cheeks, scrapes and scabs already forming. His expression hardens, until you look into his eyes. He should be angry right now. furious that your presence has led to this. But perhaps Mingi was right.

There's just something so strange about you.

You flinch when he tries to touch you. He pulls his hands back promptly, holding them up in defense. “Hey hey, I’m not a Seelie. You saw me earlier, didn’t you? I was talking to San, the guy that was shooting daggers across the room. I’m with Hongjoong, y/n. My name is Jongho.”

His name sounds vaguely familiar. You nod, and he helps you up. The screams have died down now. You keep your gaze on the floor, the smell already rising. You wouldn’t have guessed how familiar that scent of death would be. Jongho pulls you along, navigating you around the bodies and blood, and out the door.

“Yunho…?” You murmur, thinking back to how he was grabbed by a Seelie. “Is he okay?”

“Fine. Poor guy who grabbed him though, he’s shredded to Hell,” Jongho snickers, turning down a hallway. “Seonghwa isn’t in the lab, but one of us will be around soon. Stay there for a bit while we deal with this, okay?” Jongho stops in front of the door. It’s already open. You still haven’t looked up from the floor, too overwhelmed with what you’ve just witnessed. “Hey y/n, you okay there?”

“This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

Jongho does not answer. He pats your shoulder once, "We will solve this. Stay quiet." He closes the door, leaving you alone.

-

“Is Yunho alright?” Jongho enters the room, glancing to the side. His nose wrinkles at the devastation surrounding the area. Tables flipped over, masks scattered about. Dead faeries in pieces. No one answers him. Hongjoong stands in the middle of the room, staring down at a body. Jongho begins to look around and spots Yunho in the corner. He’s still, gazing down at his trembling blood drenched hands. Mingi is near him, crouched in front of him as he whispers. Jongho isn’t particularly interested in hearing anything he has to say, moving closer to his leader.

“We looked weak in front of them all,” Hongjoong says. “Pathetic.”

“It was the best choice at the time-”

“Was it?” He looks at him, brows furrowed. “Was it a good choice to allow a massacre to happen because they wanted a human? Our people saw me defend it over everyone else. They will remember this day.”

“They know the stakes well enough. They understand that you had a reason for it. Anyone with eyes could see that she is different. That’s why Yeonjun himself wanted her so badly-”

“You should have given her up,” San grunts, lifting a table back into its place. “Now we have to deal with Seelies following us wherever we go. It will be a hindrance.”

“I already have Yeosang and Wooyoung dealing with that,” Hongjoong waves him off. “But I have lost favor. It will take a while to gain it back.”

“We are all faeries, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa’s hand hovers over a body. It slowly dissipates, his gaze shifting up to look at his leader. “We took the risk in keeping her because we know of the influence she has. Despite what I have been saying, I do think it is best to keep her around. At least until we find the cause of her resistance. Once we do, that information would be more valuable than anything that has happened tonight.”

Jongho frowns. “Life is less valuable?”

Seonghwa shrugs simply, “They will be remade. It is nothing.”

“You’re beginning to sound like the Seelie,” Jongho murmurs, his spark’s gazes shifting to him. “We are to be better.”

“We are Unseelie, Jongho. We are nothing better. But speaking of the human,” Seonghwa stands, wiping his hands on his pants. “Where is she?”

“In your lab.”

Seonghwa’s eyes seem to widen comically, pushing past Jongho.

"What's wrong?"

Mingi looks at Jongho from his spot, “None of us looked around to see if it was clear, Jongho. You may have just killed the human. All of this bloodshed for nothing.”

Several of the others follow behind Seonghwa, Jongho running after them. He arrives at the lab just as Seonghwa slams open his door. The sight startling to behold. Seelie blood coats the walls, tables destroyed and medical supplies scattered about. But it is almost the least surprising thing in the room.

In the middle of the carnage sits you, fingers wrapped around the handle of a dagger Seonghwa stored on the wall for decoration. Wounds cover your body, leg twisted at an odd angle. But your eyes are away from them. Glued to the pieces of Seelie below you.

“y/n?” Jongho whispers.

You hand trembles at the sound of his voice, dagger dropping from between your fingers. You look up, passed Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Directly at him.

“I didn’t mean to.”

[hedgehog-moss]

The autumn growing season in the greenhouse is coming to an end, so here are my plant reviews!

1. Basil: 11/10

I’ve never had so much basil before! I planted it when it was a baby and it grew to the size of a baobab. I’ve made SO many jars of pesto, I can make pasta all winter. The basil plant started suffering from the cold around mid-November and I harvested the last leaves, but it grew amazingly as long as indoor temperatures remained above 10°C at night.

2. Bell pepper: 10.5/10

The only reason I’m ranking it lower is because I like basil better, but I’ve had a constant supply of beautiful green peppers all throughout the autumn! The plant is very low-maintenance and bravely produced peppers in 35° greenhouse temperatures in early September and 10° temperatures in November without a complaint.

3. Green beans: 10/10

I love fresh green beans. I planted different kinds, purple ones and green ones, and discovered with a bit of surprise that the former grow a deep purple colour and then become green when you cook them. It’s a fun plant. And they grow very well in vertical growing towers!

4. White onions: 9/10

They didn’t thrive in my planters for some reason (they seemed to get smothered by the other plants around them) but they were very happy by themselves in the vertical tower. Will keep that in mind for next year.

5. Kohlrabi: 8/10

Kohlrabi shouldn’t be so high in the list because I don’t like eating it all that much, but it grows so enthusiastically and then it looks like little green aliens going \o/ in their towers, it’s just a very endearing plant.

6. Lettuce: 7/10

The lettuces (I’m making this word countable) in the towers grew amazingly in September thanks to having their feet constantly soaking in water, while their sisters in the planters were suffering from the heat. But as soon as the weather grew colder and more humid all the tower lettuces became covered with mildew :( Meanwhile the planter lettuces were having their 15 minutes of fame (see second picture)—until the weather got even wetter in November and they finally succumbed to mildew as well. So I’ll note that tower lettuce is good for summer and planter lettuce for early autumn, and then the greenhouse gets too humid for healthy lettuce.

6. Parsley: 5/10

Parsley is in the shame corner. It grew very very well in its tower—so well that its roots started colonising the little pipe that brings water, so the pipe became clogged and water stopped circulating in the tower and the parsley died. That is the definition of shooting yourself in the foot, parsley, you short-sighted plant. You wanted instant water gratification and ended up with nothing. There’s a lesson to be learnt here. (The lesson is to put parsley at the bottom of the tower rather than at the top where the pipe is.)

7. Miscellanies: my aubergine plant produced stakhanovically in September and then shrivelled up and died as soon as October (and cold nights) started. Definitely a summer-only plant (at least in a non-heated greenhouse). Fennel grew incredibly well, both in the planters and in the towers, but I discovered (I’d never tried it before) that it tastes exactly like anise and I hate anise. I tried cooking it in a gratin as I figured cheese makes everything okay, but not even cheese could make fennel tolerable to me. No more fennel. Arugula (<- the superior word. Boycott rocket) grew well but had trouble asserting itself next to my giant basil plant. I’ll try to give it more space to grow next time, poor arugula got so squished.

And finally:

8. Fish (not rated for reasons explained below, but it’s hard to imagine what a fish could do wrong)

The point of the vertical growing towers is to try aquaponic gardening—they are connected via pipes and a pump to a water tank in which I would like to raise fish. The idea of aquaponics is that the fish and the plants have a symbiotic relationship, with the fish’s waste fertilising the water for the plants, and the plants’ roots cleaning the water for the fish as they absorb these nutrients. It’s recommended to start with goldfish for the first year as they are quite sturdy, then once you know how your greenhouse behaves in every season, the water temperature changes etc, you can try other kinds (including edible fish).

^ So I had four little pioneers in an aquarium in my kitchen waiting to move to the greenhouse—but I needed to stabilise the pH of the water (among other things) before bringing in the fish, and that proved very difficult! My pH had daily fluctuations that I tried to tame by adding potassium bicarbonate or varying the % of rainwater vs. spring water in the tank, and nothing worked. I thought it was because I had put so many plants in the towers, but as I started removing the summer plants and the pH didn’t improve, I finally tried putting my pH sensor in a bucket of distilled water to see if it worked... and it turned out that the sensor was malfunctioning. I bought a new sensor, who immediately told me that my pH was perfectly adequate. I felt daft.

Anyway, my brave pioneer fish were moved to the greenhouse last week and they seem to be enjoying their new tank (they’ve got lots of plant roots dipping in the water to nibble on or hide behind), so I’ve ordered the rest of the goldfish gang! My greenhouse will become a lot more populated tomorrow, stay tuned :)

[steviestits]

Lord Munson Takes a Bride - Part 1.1

Written for a dm prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T (E in later chapters) Summary: When Steve Harrington was shipped off to the Buckley farm after embarrassing his parents by presenting as an omega, he thought that he was done with high society and would spend the rest of his days caring for chickens and horses. That is until one day, the mysterious Lord Munson arrives at his doorstep to mate with him after his parents promised Steve to him so they could renew their squandered fortunes. Now Steve has to learn how to be a proper omega as he allows the alpha to court him. But there seems to be more to the arrangement than Steve knows, along with a lingering memory of a servant from his past. (Regency Era Omegaverse au which takes inspiration from Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and the Count of Monte Cristo.) Eventual Trigger Warning: Mpreg

Wiping the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, Steve looked down at the chickens milling about his feet, clunking as they waited for him to feed them. He threw them seed from the apron that he wore over his worn skirt, and they stooped their heads to peck at the ground. This was the simple routine that Steve followed since arriving at the small countryside farm that his parents had sent him to after he presented as an omega. He’d wake up, feed the chickens, tend to the horses, water the garden, and harvest some vegetables for their meals for the day. It was hard yet honest work, which Steve enjoyed.

Steve’s life before coming to the farm had been a complicated one filled with expectations and strict rules. His parents had thought that he’d present as an alpha, so since birth, that’s what they taught him, wanting him to be the perfect alpha and even had a bride already picked out for him, hoping that he could marry into the other pack to raise the Harrington’s status among the other nobles. They brought him to parties, introducing him as their alpha heir, and forced him to network with others that were presumed to present as an alpha, too.

Servants took care of all the chores for him, and he didn’t have to life a finger for much of his childhood. All that changed, however, when it finally came time to present. Everyone in their pack gathered for the celebration to welcome the new alpha into their ranks, except he didn’t present as an alpha. He presented as omega, which many viewed as inferior because they were barred from inheriting land and leadership of a pack. Also, Harringtons only had alpha men and omega women, having an omega son was an embarrassment, so his parents did the only thing they could do, which was ship him off to the country and pretend they never had him.

At first, life on the small farm belonging to the Buckleys was rough, and their omega daughter, Robin, hated him. Steve never gave up, though. He eventually got used to life here, had come to enjoy it, while he befriended Robin, as well. The other omega was like a sister to him now. Often a night, they’d sneak into each other’s room in order to stay up late whispering secrets to each other underneath the linen bed sheets. Neither of them were interested in the typical alphas that strutted around, thinking they were better than everyone else, but they still liked to gossip about the ones they heard of in the town market.

The most talked about alpha recently was the mysterious Lord Munson. He’d come out of nowhere, buying up property and companies. Some said he was a lord from a small country who came to a bigger pond since he’d outgrown his own, while others said that he was a duke’s bastard son and had been paid off with a title as to not come forward about his lineage. Everyone said a different story, but all knew one thing, which was that the alpha had purchased a manor in this very countryside with plans to make it his summer home. Not that any of this concerned, or at least he hadn’t thought it did until today.

“Steve!” Mrs. Buckley yelled breathlessly. “Steve, there you are!”

Raising his head, he saw Mrs. Buckley hurriedly running towards him while fisting her skirt to prevent herself from tripping over it in her frenzied pace. Her cheeks were flushed while strands of dirty blonde hair fell from her tight bun. She had a manic look in her blue eye, though Steve couldn’t tell if it was one of pure excitement, absolute panic, or perhaps a mixture of both.

“This is where I always am at this hour,” Steve said as she approached. “Why? What’s the matter? Has Butternut escaped her pen again?”

“No, this isn’t about a damn horse! This is about Lord Munson!”

Steve frowned. “Lord Munson?”

“Yes! Lord Munson!”

“What about Lord Munson then?”

“He’s here!” Mrs. Buckley grabbed both his shoulders and gave him a small shake. “He’s here, and he’s requested to see you!”

The statement only made Steve’s frown deepen. “I don’t understand. Why would he come here to see me? Couldn’t he have just sent a messenger?”

“You’re such a naïve little thing, aren’t you?” she said with a laugh. “He’s here to begin courting you, deary. Lord Munson wishes to mate with you!”

“What!?” Steve blinked rapidly, as if trying to wake from a dream. “Why would he be here to court me? I don’t even know him!”

“He didn’t say. But what does it matter? You can ask later. Right now, we must make you presentable and see if we can make you look like a proper omega for once.”

Before Steve could argue with her, Mrs. Buckley forced him to turn around then practically dragged him back to the house. She brought him around the back, since presumably, Lord Munson was waiting in the front, and shoved him into his bedroom along with a water bucket and cloth, ordering to wash himself thoroughly. There was also a pale blue dress that he’d never seen before draped out across his bed.

A note was pinned to it, and he was surprised to see that it was his parents. They started by addressing him as “their dearest son.” He hadn’t spoken to them in almost ten years, yet the letter contained a familiarity as if they’d seen each other each day, making him feel an uneasy suspicious that they wanted something from him.

Steve was right, of course, as the letter went on to beg for him to suck up to Lord Munson and get him to invest in the Harrington properties. It seemed they had squandered much of it through bad business deals that caused them to lose much of their fortune. They had talked up Steve to the alpha, catching his interest. Once they had his attention, they gave their blessing, along with Steve’s location to Lord Munson, so he could retrieve the omega himself. The letter begged him not to scorn the alpha, saying it was their only chance to get back the money they lost.

While Steve was tempted to make an ass of himself to spite them, he couldn’t. There was still a part of him that cared about their affections. He had no idea how they had lost nearly their entire fortune in only a few short years, but that didn’t change the fact that they had and needed Steve’s help while promising the love that he had craved as a child, so he was unable to refuse their request when they begged.

Masterpost ~ Part 1.2

[istharoth]

In love with a 2-D Character?! Sinostra Edition!

Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.

CW: Mentions of Organ Harvesting in Taiga's section.

↪ Taiga Hoshibami:

He doesn't play games. Next.

JKJK he only plays for the gacha aspect and gets annoyed when he doesn't have any more to pull.

Streamer Taiga? In this AU yes. Streamer Taiga who does absolutely insane things + says out of pocket things but doesn't get cancelled because people think that's his humour.

Taiga: "Lmao, last week I harvested organs." His fans: "OMG TAIGA YOU'RE SO FUNNY! WAS IT BLOODY!?" Also Taiga: *wants to explain the full thing but forgets so he just laughs it off*

So he plays the game right, he's bored as hell, he chooses a random character and then he sees you in the prologue.

You're bloodied up for sexy reasons and you're trying to kill him? That's his type, he loves those angry people who try to kill you, maybe you're a bit greedy too?

Geneunely regrets not choosing you in the selection screen but forgets about your existence just as quick, until you re-appear in the fourth chapter.

Pulls on every banner, does not care who the character is, he just wants to test his luck.

Has insane streamer luck, and luck in general. Is the type of streamer who does pulls on his viewer's accounts and to mess with them, he deletes a high-levelled artefact for fun.

His fanbase knows they have to say goodbye to the artefact to get the character lol

He doesn't remember you for the most part, he just knows you're relevant to the lore of the game.

Maybe has one or two merch items his fans gave him but he forgets who you are.

↪ Romeo 'Fico' Scorpius Lucci:

Adds him into the does not play games list.

Judges every character in the selection screen because Rui will not stop yapping about the game he's playing.

But who is he to judge? His last name is literally a play on Gucci.

You're a satisfactory character, in terms of design, so he picks you.

He's the type to have two accounts, has one for you, his side account, and his other account mains the character you torment, that's his main. [In this case Kaito's favourite character]

Doesn't spend money on the game because he thinks it's unnecessary, though he's easily annoyed when he doesn't get a character. Romeo: SIH [Shrivel in Hell] WTF [What the fuck] RIH [Rot in Hell] CHBB [Come home, you Basic Bitch!]

That's what goes down every time he pulls on his accounts. The last one is meant for his main account, he could never call you BB. You're him, he is you.

Romeo will go out of his way to have the clothes you wear custom-made for himself because he likes them so much.

If you mention a brand in-game, be it perfume or makeup, he's going to search for the equivalent of the irl one and get it.

Also isn't much on merch, might have a few of your jewelry statements and clothes but that's about it.

↪ Ritsu Shinjo

Why is everyone in Sinostra in the does not play games category?

But he'll play it because peer pressure always works.

Is the type of player who focuses too much on the story and if laws are mentioned, he's going to write threads on if they're wrong or right.

Might sue the game company if they're wrong. [nah he won't, I'm just exaggerating.] He understands the concept of fictional and real so i doubt.

selects you because you're the most normal based on the character selection screen.

He thinks he isn't big on merch, but no, he's a collector. You know those standees of characters outside events people steal sometimes? Yeah, he's going to get Taiga to steal them, but in a way that makes them unpunishable by law.

Won't go buy a body pillow but a cardboard cutout is a must. If you have a fan club, he's going to rise up the ranks and would likely be in the single digits of the fandom.

He likes them underrated characters frfr.

Prev [Jabberwock] Next [Hotarubi]

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Hello! Saw your request was opened! Can I please request Record of Ragnarok Hades with Kanae Kocho!fem!reader headcanons? Thank you!

warning: spoilers from the manga, ooc.

Here it is! Sorry it took me so long to respond! Enjoy! :)

Let it be known that Persephone is and always will be Hades’ first love. 

Eons ago, he adored the tiny goddess of spring, and she returned those feelings wholeheartedly. But not even this witty, charming woman was willingly to change her entire life for him. How could she? She told him. How could I do such a thing when Mother still needs me?

Demeter wanted to always be in control. Not just over the seasons in Midgard and Valhalla, but her daughter’s life as well. Persephone was too precious to the harvest goddess, and she would be damned to give her child’s hand in marriage to someone like himself. 

A monster. 

That is the truth behind the myth surrounding Hades and Persephone: a passionate, yet brief romance. When it was over, he had come to accept his fate; forever alone, watching over the underworld with an iron fist. 

Just as a king would do. 

His interest in women faded with time, preferring to exert his energy into making sure his domain would thrive and there wasn’t a single cog out of place in the palace. Everyone and everything has a role to play, and by doing so accordingly, things will fall into place. Never love. 

When the Bifrost fell, demons began pouring through the fractured gates and into Valhalla, causing chaos everywhere. This catastrophic event gave rise to a fallen organization that had once combated them in Midgard many years ago, eradicating its progenitor and allowing the humans to finally live in peace. The Demon Slayer Corps. 

With its resurrection came a proposal that Hades knew Kaguya Ubuyashiki would not refuse. His family had been overseeing the organization for over a thousand years, no one knew its works as intimately as he and his predecessors. There is no one else who fit for the job as the head of the Demon Slayer Corps….but Ubuyashiki would sooner disband the Hashiras than assemble them to work for someone who operated from behind the shadows. 

The Hashiras, the kakushi, the medics….they were all his children. No one would control them like puppets. Hades’ respect for mortals was raised ever so slightly in that very moment with Kaguya Ubuyashiki in the wisteria gardens of his estate. 

Once negotiations were established, the Demon Slayer Corps laid its foundation in Valhalla. To show a sign of goodwill towards their new ‘business partner’,  the Ubuyashiki household elected a former Hashira to be the middle-man. Someone who will send information between both parties and coordinate meetings if needed. 

That person is [First Name] Kocho, known by her companions as the Flower Hashira. Although she had been offered a place in the ranks, she sweetly declined and opted to help from the shadows than the front lines. She wanted to live a peaceful afterlife with her sisters, if that is possible. 

In the beginning, Hades did not think much of the Flower Hashira beyond her excellent work ethic. She was professional, polite, and empathetic. This behavior was not extended towards him only, as he had initially expected due to being the lord of the underworld. 

She respected his subordinates, greeting them with a beaming smile and wishing them to have a pleasant day or helping someone with their workload. She followed the orders given to her, though if she had any concerns, she did not hesitate to say something once she had given permission to speak instead of raising her voice in a meeting. 

To his embarrassment, he fell for the Flower Hashira hard and quickly. Though…could someone blame him? 

The question now is…how could even approach this lovely mortal woman when she is fiercely protected by her younger sisters and an army of highly-trained demon exterminators? More importantly, how to not let his damned brother Zeus find out about it. It’d be one thing if it was Poseidon because the tyrant of the oceans knew how to keep his mouth shut, but Valhalla’s supreme god? Not bloody likely, that damned gossipmonger.

[tllgrrl]

Grimes 68 by @tllgrrl aka nefertiri jones

Summary: After almost 8 years apart, Michonne finds Rick Grimes, the love of her life and father of their children, and he brings her into the Civic Republic Military. For the time being: 1) She has to pretend to be someone else to avoid being seen as a threat; 2) He has to figure out a plan for the two of them to get out; and 3) They have to try and act like they’re strangers to each other instead of reunited lovers.

(The key word is “try”.)

* * * * *

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

The steel kill sticks striking against the brick wall rang in the parking lot of what was left of a post office.

A former postal service semi that now had protective grills over the windows led the next herd of the dead, or what the CRM called “deltas”— “delts” for short—into the large space on the one side of the harvest wall.

The shuffling hoard was drawn by the noise and flashing lights mounted on the truck.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

The consignees readied themselves on the other side, and as the delts shambled to open spaces in the wall, each one was met with a blow that drove a sharp, prong-ended spear (“kill stick”) into its skull, followed by a twist of the wrist that destroyed its brain, effectively and finally killing it.

It was a repetitive, bloody, mind-numbing grind, and some said that it was brutal for the workers because it wasn’t easy to completely forget that the delts were once living human beings too.

Grimes had done his time at The Wall. He’d even become a legend with the number of kills he could rack up in a shift.

It was painted in big letters on the side of a nearby building, for all to see:

GRIMES 68.

He was also well-known for the number of attempts he’d made to do something no one else in the City wanted to do: Escape. Wanting to leave the safety and security of the CR so badly that he actually cut off his own shackled hand at the wrist, only to fail again and be brought back to the Wall.

Time and time again an officer in the Civic Republic Military gave him a chance to join up, and he refused each offer, preferring to be at the culling facility, killing the dead and planning his next escape attempt.

Then one day, he accepted the offer. He traded his Consignee jacket for a CRM uniform. Instead of using a kill stick, he got a fancy, deadly prosthetic hand with a retractable blade. He got all kinds of specialized training, all the perks as he rose through the ranks, and he never had to cull delts again.

But now, after having been gone for years, there he was. Back at the Wall. Watching.

Watching her.

The new consignee.

The dark-skinned Black woman with her hair cut short on one side of her head, exposing a beautiful profile; and locs cascading down just past her shoulder in the back and on the other side of her face .

The woman who, after her on-boarding interview, was designated a Type “B”, seeking safety, willing to work, and keeping to herself, but had the carriage and demeanour of an “A” who was always observing, was more than capable of defending herself, and being a provider of safety. A leader.

Word soon got around among the Consignees that the ex-consignee/now military officer known as “the famous Rick Grimes” had not only survived a chopper crash, but he’d started showing up at the harvest wall. Coming back to a place he’d gotten away from years earlier, only to return when a mysterious new consignee was brought into the CRM.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“Hey. Look who just pulled up,” said a consignee who had her red hair tied back with, of all things, a bright pink ribbon that was tied in a bow.

“Holy shit! ‘zat Grimes?” another consignee added, tying a bandana on his head, cholo style, then slipping on his face shield. “He doesn’t have to be here any more. What’s up with that?”

“Bethune’s not-so-secret admirer,” snickered the worker to pink bow’s left, stabbing his kill stick into a delt that sagged and dropped. “She doesn’t see him yet. But she knows he’s there. Watch. In 3..2..1.”

Michonne—known to the other consignees as “Dana Bethune” —stationed at the far end of the wall, continued to methodically dispatch delts.

Then she stopped, looked over her shoulder, found the tall, CRM officer. Standing there, at ease, even with his helmet and face guard on, she knew he was watching her.

It seemed like they stood there like that. The only people at the wall. 5…10…15 minutes. Watching each other. Breathing the same air. At last…

3 seconds later, she turned her head back to the oncoming delts, and went back to work.

Behind her mask, the other consignees couldn’t see the small smile that graced her lips, or hear her whisper “I found you.”

Behind his mask, no one could see the CRM officer smile as he whispered “You found me.”

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“You see that?” drawled the consignee to pink bow’s right, continuing to spear oncoming delts. “Somethin’s up with those two.”

“I know, right? For the past two weeks, he’s here. Same time every day she’s on shift, just before third break. Look at him lookin’. Even wearin’ the consignee jacket, the mask, an’ her hair all tucked in, it only takes him a second to find her. And a second for her to know he’s here. Like they’re—”

“Might could be that ass is imprinted on his brain!” laughed a big man nearby with a bushy black beard.

“Maybe it’s because she saved his life out there.”

“Peterson said somethin’ about that. It’s true?”

“‘parently so. His chopper went down. Got blown right outta the sky and crashed.”

“You serious?!”

“Word is it was a scrub with some kinda RPG an’ shit,” a consignee added to the story while wiping a splatter of brains and blood off of his face guard.

“Stop lyin’! How’d they even get that? After the Fall, CRM took over most of the bases out there with a quickness.”

“There was military stuff out in the wild even before everything went to shit. All kinds o’ stuff is still out there,” bushy beard opined. “Shouldn’t be a surprise all these years later somebody has a bazooka or some ordinance hidden away. There’s jeeps, even tanks here and there. I lived in one for a couple o’ months before I got found and brought here. CRM scoops ‘em up quick as they can, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So anyway, the scuttlebut is that Sargent Major Loverboy there, an’ the other troopers jumped out of the wrecked chopper an’ the scrub starts firein’ on ‘em. The ones he could catch, he slit their throats…with a sword.”

“A what?” bandana scoffed, stabbing into what was left of the next delt’s face. “Get outta here with that BS, man!”

“I’m just tellin’ you what I heard! Grimes was about ta get got, when Bethune comes runnin’ outta the woods, grabs one of the dead trooper’s weapons and shoots the scrub!”

“Wow. Maybe that’s why he’s here all the time,” pink bow chuckled. “Hell, I’d be in love with her too.”

“Get in line,” beard snarked. “You really think those two know each other?”

“Know each other?” the woman laughed, stabbed a delt and shook its eyeball off of her kill stick. “I think they’re fuckin’.”

“No way!” bandana exclaimed. “She just got here!”

<<<Good work, Section 5 and 6 Consignees. Bethune and Clifton, please report to post-shift health check before boarding transport.>>>

“Think about it,” pink bow explained. “Grimes is an officer on the inside now and doesn’t need to be at the Harvest Wall any more. Who’d come back to this shit after their 6 years of consignment is up? Now, all of a sudden, he’s back. Out here almost every day. Why?”

She tipped her head toward the driveway and they watched Grimes remove his helmet and turn completely around to watch “why” aka “Dana Bethune” walk past, avoiding his eyes.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“Oh, yeah…” pink bow grinned. “They’re fuckin’.”

* * * * *

This bit of nonsense was inspired by The Walking Dead spin-off, The Ones Who Live - Episode 3: “Bye”.

Click HERE for the AO3 version.

Thank you for reading!

[jollmaster]

asile!AU: Marie de la Vega Trinidad, exterminator, harlot, righteous woman

° was born in Valladolid in XVII century

° sold virginity on the grounds of poverty; had coercive sex for money several times

° could have been a prostitute, but one hidalgo took a fancy to her

° Vega was his mistress for several years, well-dressed, well-fed, never complained about life

° had the courage to contradict a high-ranking churchman who put her on trial as 1) a harlot (for living with a married man), 2) a heretic (for sympathizing with the waldenses)

° died of painful shock during torture; previously lost fingernails and left eye

° was taken under Adam's protection for firmness of conviction, participated in the Harvest for over three hundred years

° cynical old gray-headed woman

° disgusted with flirtations

° hates rapists and inquisitors

[hyperfixatedonthisnow]

Love in the Rain

*not my GIF Summary: Nikolai is your best friend and you’re hopelessly in love with him, too bad he’s engaged to Alina Starkov. But maybe a storm and a love confession could change everything. Requested by: kateswone - Could you do a Nikolai x reader one, where there's a lot of pining and in the rain confession in the end? - This started as a drabble and somehow became 6000 words 🙈 I hope you like it! Word count: 6K ish Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Minor Alina Starkov friendship and brief mention of Dominic Vertov, mild angst/pining, fluff, idiots in love, smut, fem!reader, fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!), suggestion of oral sex. Fun fact, this was my first ever request! I had so much fun writing it, so if anyone would like to request something in the future please do, my inbox is always open and anonymous asks are on too 😊

You had always known you were illegitimate, born to a nobleman and his housekeeper. Though their union may have been scandalous, you believed with all your heart that they had loved each other.

You had few true memories of your mother, who had died when you were very young, but you remembered the happy years you had spent with your father, who had been warm and loving. He had always treated you as his daughter and never made you feel less than. Unfortunately when he died, yet another casualty of the Ravkan war, you had finally found out what it truly meant to be illegitimate. A bastard child could not inherit and your father’s estate had been entailed away to some distant male relation. The new master of the house had not wanted the trouble or expense of raising a child, and your father’s will did not include any incentive for him to do so. So you were promptly dropped off at an orphanage and at 8 years old, you had found yourself completely alone in the world. You had little to call your own except a book of fairy tales that had once belonged to your mother. Some of the pages were frayed around the edges and the cover was battered and worn, but it was your most treasured possession. The stories were all of a similar ilk, cautionary tales with brave princes fighting dragons and ogres, and princesses held hostage or locked away in towers. The heroes always triumphed and the damsel was always saved, and they all lived happily ever after. You would read the stories over and over, dreaming that one day you too would get your happy ending. Adjusting to life in the orphanage had been difficult, you were used to fine food, to goose-down pillows and silk, but now you ate meager rations, wore clothes of peasant rough-spun and slept on a mattress stuffed with hay. You tried your best to acclimate and vowed never to complain, but your high rank of birth made you unpopular, both with the other children and the staff.

They made it clear that they resented your good manners and education. They mocked the way you spoke and how you held yourself, deliberately excluded you from games and always saddled you with the worst of the chores. No matter how hard you tried, you did not fit in. So any time an opportunity presented itself that would allow you time away from the orphanage, you took it. That was how you met Nikolai. You were 12 and him 14, and you were on the Vertov farm for the summer to help with the wheat harvest. It was hard work but the Vertovs were good people and they treated you kindly. They invited you to eat dinner with the family every night and one night, their son Dominic brought along a friend from the palace. With his golden hair and shiny boots, Nikolai looked as if he had walked right off the page of your storybook. He took the seat next to you and when he engaged you in conversation it seemed like he was genuinely interested in what you had to say. You quickly found that he was as charming as he was handsome, a fairytale prince brought to life and you warmed to him immediately. In the weeks that followed that first meeting, Nikolai was at the farm almost as often as you were. He rolled up his sleeves and mucked in with the work, spending long days in the fields alongside you and Dominic. Sometimes the boys would tease you, but it was never mean-spirited in the way that it was at the orphanage and soon the three of you became firm friends, joking and laughing together as you worked. Nikolai in particular was easy to talk to and over time you confided in him about how awful things were at the orphanage and how much you missed your father. In return he had told you a bit about his life at the palace, his complicated relationship with his brother and the rumors of his own parentage. You both knew what it was like to feel that you didn’t belong, and having someone else who understood made you feel less alone. Before long you had developed a crush on the prince, though it wasn’t your fault. He was always looking at you, and smiling in that way that made butterflies take flight in your stomach, always telling jokes and trying to make you laugh. He insisted he sit next to you whenever he stayed for dinner, and he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room that mattered. As September came to an end, so did the harvest and you were to return to the orphanage. You had cried saying your goodbyes, and Nikolai had enveloped you in a hug, squeezing you tight and promising he would see you again soon. Just a few days later, a messenger had arrived to notify you that there was a place for you within the Queen’s household. It didn’t take long for the young prince to seek you out once you arrived at the palace, but when you thanked him for bringing you there he had acted the picture of innocence, declaring he had no idea what you were talking about. His mother chose her own ladies, he insisted, though his mischievous grin suggested otherwise. Although she was surely aware of your illegitimate status, the Queen graciously allowed you to adopt your fathers name at court, and the other ladies accepted you as one of their own without question. You found it was remarkably easy to settle into a happy existence at the palace, especially since Nikolai was a constant presence, always there to help and encourage you. No matter how busy he was, you could always depend on seeing him at least once a day. Sometimes he would seek you out at breakfast, stealing fruit from your plate and winking at you when his mother scolded him, or stop you in the hallway to ask about your day while the other ladies giggled behind you, but his favorite time to visit you was late at night, when everyone else was asleep. He would sneak into your room, face lit by dim candlelight and sit cross-legged on your bed, talking endlessly about anything and everything - palace gossip, an idea he had for an invention, places you both wanted to travel, dreams for the future. Even when he went off with Dominic to complete his military service, and then off to sea, he somehow still found time to write to you several times a week until he returned. Now almost 12 years had passed since he had rescued you from your life at the orphanage and Nikolai was no longer a prince, but he was still your best friend. Which only made the fact that your childhood crush had blossomed into unrequited love that much more difficult to bare.                                      - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The state banquet was in full swing and you were seated near one end of the long table. The Kaelish ambassador sat to your right and another man on your left, though you could not recall his title. Both men had been talking almost non-stop for over an hour, each competing for your attention, but you had long since tuned them out. You couldn’t stop your eyes wandering to where you knew the King sat, at the head of the table. He was deep in conversation with Alina Starkov, who held the place of honour by his side, but his eyes met yours briefly and the corner of his mouth tipped up into that boyish smile you loved so much. The Kaelish ambassador laid a hand on top of yours on the table, trying to regain your attention and Nikolai’s smile dropped from his face, a small crease appearing between his brows in its place. You turned away, breaking the eye contact so that you could politely extricate yourself from the ambassador’s grasp. When you looked back, the King had returned to his conversation, the Sun Saint once again holding his full attention. You watched as he leaned in close to whisper in her ear, and she tipped her head back to laugh. You studied her as you sipped your wine. The Sun Saint and the saviour of Ravka. You wanted to hate her, but she couldn’t even allow you that you thought bitterly, because not only was she beautiful, she was also brave and kind. Even her laugh was pretty, a light, musical sound. Despite the fact that she had grown up an orphan like you, she had a way about her that just screamed royalty. She would make a perfect Queen for him. You pushed away your plate of half-eaten dinner, your appetite quite ruined.                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Nikolai watched you from the opposite end of the table. Alina was talking and he knew he should be focused on her but in truth he was barely even listening. You looked stunning tonight, even more so than usual, and he was having a hard time taking his eyes off you. Your gaze finally fell on him and he smiled back at you, warmth blooming in his chest at having your full attention even in the crowded room, but then the Kaelish ambassador touched your hand with his and Nikolai’s heart sank. You were a beautiful and intelligent woman and yet you were still unmarried, so it was no surprise that any man seated next to you would be vying for your affections. Nikolai knew he had no right to be upset, given his own engagement to Alina, but truthfully, he was a selfish creature at his core and he did not want to see you with anyone but him. As you turned to the ambassador, Nikolai forced himself to shift his attention back to Alina, he couldn’t stand to watch the other man flirt with you. Alina was giving him a knowing look and he didn’t like it. The last thing he wanted was a lecture on the dangers of unrequited love from the Sun Saint. Humor was his favorite method of deflection, and it had always served him well in the past, so he leaned in close, quietly making a joke about the unfortunate looking man sat opposite them. Alina laughed and the moment passed just as he’d hoped it would. He made a concentrated effort to keep his eyes off of you for the rest of dinner.                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - After dinner, the King and his fiancé led the procession, their arms linked together delicately, as everyone moved to the ballroom. You trailed behind, tempted to just duck out altogether and go back to your room where you could be alone. Then the Kaelish ambassador appeared at your side, offering to escort you in and dashing all hopes of escape. You looped your arm through his reluctantly and allowed him to take you into the crowded ballroom. Your eyes swept the room involuntarily, seeking Nikolai out as always. You found him off to the side of the dance floor, talking with Alina again, their arms still linked and their heads bent intimately close together. You ignored the bloom of pain in your chest and forced yourself to look away. You turned to the man at your side instead, plastering a smile on your face. “Are you enjoying your time in Ravka, ambassador?” You asked. “Very much so,” he smiled, “but then, what man would not enjoy your charming company?” You looked away, feeling your cheeks heating up at the compliment. “That’s very kind of you to say, ambassador.” “Please, call me Cillian.” “I’m not sure that would be appropriate,” you demurred. “I insist,” he said, taking your hand. You caught sight of Nikolai in your peripheral vision, he and Alina were moving towards you and panic clawed at your throat. You didn’t have it in you tonight to pretend to be happy for them. “Alright,” you allowed, giving him the coyest smile you could manage, “but only if you will agree to dance with me.” The ambassador - Cillian, looked thrilled and you felt a stab of guilt, but you let him lead you away from Nikolai and out onto the dance floor all the same. The orchestra struck up a new tune, blending seamlessly from the last and Cillian pulled you in, one hand clasped with yours and the other at your waist. You tried to keep your eyes entirely on him, studying his features as you moved together through the steps of the dance. He was several years older than you, you determined, but not old, and he was handsome enough, with dark auburn hair and emerald green eyes. He wasn’t Nikolai, but then, no one could measure up to him in your opinion.

When the dance ended, Cillian disappeared to go and fetch you both a drink. You waited for him at the edge of the crowd, and watched as Nikolai escorted Alina out onto the dance floor. The music started up again, a slow, romantic melody and Nikolai held Alina as close as propriety would allow, one hand pressed to the small of her back. At first the two of them just swayed together in time with the music, completely caught up in each other, and then Nikolai whispered something in her ear and finally started to lead her in the dance. They moved beautifully together, perfectly in sync and suddenly you felt so sick, you couldn’t stand it. You turned on your heel, pushing your way through the crowded ballroom and towards the exit as fast as your feet would carry you.                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Nikolai stared steadfastly ahead as he led the guests into the ballroom, Alina on his arm. If he allowed himself to look around, he would only look for you. He stopped walking as he reached the opposite side of the room, deeming it far enough away from the door and other people to be acceptable. “You might as well look for her,” Alina said, leaning in to him, “I know you want to.” “Who?” he asked, playing dumb. “You know who,” she pressed patiently, “you should go find her and tell her how you feel.” “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice coming out entirely too high to be believable. He cleared his throat conspicuously and she gave him that knowing look again. “Oh come on,” she said, rolling her eyes, “a blind person could see that you’re in love with her.” “I’m not -“ he started automatically, but he cut himself off when Alina raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Okay, I am,” he admitted, “but I can’t tell her that. She’s my best friend.” “All the more reason to tell her,” Alina reasoned, “all the best relationships start out as friendship.” “No,” Nikolai insisted, “she doesn’t see me that way and I can’t risk losing her.” “With great risk comes great reward,” Alina shrugged, “that sounds like something Sturmhond would say, don’t you think?” “Sturmhond isn’t here,” he muttered, but a nagging voice in his head told him she was right. “Look, there she is now,” Alina said, and Nikolai couldn’t help himself. He turned his head, following her line of sight until he spotted you in your pale blue gown, talking with the same man who had held your attention at dinner. You were smiling and your cheeks were flushed as the ambassador took your hand. Before Nikolai had even had a chance to react, Alina was grasping his arm tight and dragging him through the crowd towards you, but by the time they reached you, you were already out on the dance floor. Jealousy coiled sharp and hot in Nikolai’s gut as he watched the other man hold you in his arms, moving you effortlessly across the floor. You stared into his eyes, as if he was the only person you could see and Nikolai’s heart ached. He couldn’t bare to watch and yet he found he couldn’t look away. As soon as the music ended, he pulled Alina onto the dance floor without even asking, determined to distract himself. “I can’t dance,” she hissed, clearly annoyed despite the smile fixed to her face, “I don’t know how!” He laid his hand lightly on the small of her back, helping her sway gently in time with the beat. “Sorry,” he whispered, “just let me lead, you’ll be fine.” He began to lead her through the dance, keeping his frame firm. Luckily the melody was slow and even, so it was not difficult for Alina to follow him, but he looked up just in time to see you fleeing the ballroom and then both their footsteps faltered. He murmured a hasty apology to Alina, abandoning her on the dance floor to pursue you.                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You ran aimlessly until you somehow ended up at the palace gardens. You just needed to get away, couldn’t bare to witness the happy couple for another minute. The rain was pouring down in sheets, the stormy weather a perfect mirror to your emotions. You stepped out into the downpour, and instantly regretted it as the rain soaked through your gown with every step you took, but going back inside was not an option. You kept your head down and ran towards the gazebo, seeking shelter there. Water dripped down your face, mixing with your tears as you finally allowed them to fall. The sound of the rain was loud in your ears and you were so caught up in your own misery that you were taken by surprise when he spoke. “Are you ok?” Nikolai asked, “what are you doing out here?” You whirled around, finding him standing behind you under the gazebo, presumably taking shelter from the storm as you had done. He looked just as wet as you felt, his blonde curls dripping onto his forehead and the white of his shirt almost translucent in places where the rain had soaked through completely. You wiped discreetly at your tears, clearing your throat but you didn’t answer him. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. He removed his jacket, offering it up to you. “You’ll catch your death out in this storm without a coat,” he chided. When you made no move to accept it from his outstretched hand, he stepped closer, huffing impatiently and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think that’s going to do much good,” you said, and his face twisted in confusion. He looked down at the sodden garment in his hand, suddenly realizing how wet it actually was. “I suppose not,” he conceded with a chuckle. He moved to the low railing so that he could lay his jacket over it, then he leaned against it, swiping a hand through his wet hair to brush it back from his face. “What are you doing out here?” You questioned. He gave you a wry smile, “I asked you first.” “I needed a moment alone,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. He raised his eyebrows in question. Seeing you with Alina was killing me, you thought. But you couldn’t say that out loud, so instead you said, “The Kaelish ambassador proposed to me.” The lie tripped off your tongue so easily, you almost believed it yourself. Nikolai barked a surprised laugh, “Sounds like he’s had too much kvas,” he snorted, “I hope you let him down gently.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Actually, I told him I’d think about it,” you said, swallowing down your hurt. Was it really so unbelievable to him that a man could want you? “You can’t be serious?” He exclaimed, all trace of amusement suddenly gone. You shrugged your shoulders noncommittally and silence stretched between you. Nikolai scrubbed a hand over his face in apparent frustration, standing to pace uneasily. “You can’t marry him,” he said finally, his face unreadable. “Why not?” “He isn’t right for you,” he muttered. “You barely know him,” you bristled, feeling your temper begin to rise. What right did he have to decide for you? “Neither do you,” he countered. “Do you even love him?” “What does that matter? Marriage is an economic proposition,” you argued. “He’s handsome and rich, and he treats me kindly. As far as husbands go, I could certainly do much worse.” “As your friend, I am telling you that marrying him would be a mistake,” Nikolai insisted, his voice rising, “you cannot possibly be happy with a man you do not love.” “As my friend,” you spat, “you should support my choice, just as I did yours. Perhaps I do not love him now, but I will be well taken care of, and I may learn to love him in time.” Nikolai shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t believe that. I know you don’t. You’ve always wanted a love match.” “Yes well, we can’t always get what we want,” you said softly, looking away. “Not everyone can be as lucky as you and Alina.” “Alina and I are not a love match,” he frowned, “Surely you know that? Our engagement is purely a political alliance.” “Political, of course,” you huffed sarcastically. “It certainly seems that way when you’re fawning over her at every opportunity. Don’t lie to me Nikolai. You’re clearly in love with her!” “I do not fawn!” He objected angrily, “and I am not in love with Alina! How could I be, when my heart wholly belongs to you?!” You glared at him even as tears filled your eyes. “Now you’re just being cruel. To say such a thing when you know -“ you cut yourself off, your voice breaking. “When I know… what?” he demanded, moving into your personal space. Your fingers itched to reach out and touch him. You curled your hands into fists, fighting the instinct as you tilted your head back to look at him. “When you know that I’ve loved you for so long,” you whispered. You hadn’t meant to admit it, but you were so tired of pretending. “I know no such thing,” he said, his forehead creased into a frown. He lifted his hand to push your damp hair back behind your ear and the touch made you shiver, “I am a man of many talents, it’s true, but mind reading isn’t one of them.” “Don’t be glib,” you muttered, bringing your hands up to his chest, ready to shove him away but he captured your wrists, tugging you against him instead. Your heart was pounding and you were sure he could feel it. He said nothing, just searching your expression for something, and then his face lit up in a bright smile, all of his righteous anger melting away in an instant. “Saints. I’ve spent 10 years dreaming of this moment.” “Don’t,” you warned, your tone sharp, and his frown returned. “Don’t pretend to love me back, that isn’t fair.” “I’m not pretending,” he promised. You eyed him skeptically. “I love you,” he said earnestly, “I have loved you from the very first moment that we met, and in every moment since then. Every time we have been together and every time we were apart. In every look we have shared and every word we have spoken I have felt it, I have known it deep in my soul, and I cannot go another second without you knowing it too.” You stared at him, willing yourself not to cry as you tried to process his admission. You waited for him to take the words back, to laugh and say he was joking, but he didn’t. He closed his eyes briefly, his expression serious. His mouth pressed into a thin line, like he didn’t trust himself not to say more and when he opened his eyes, they were so full of love that you could scarcely believe it. Your heart soared with joy. “I love you too,” you assured him and he dipped his head to kiss you, finally, reverent and sweet. You pressed yourself against him, needing to be closer and his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head up as you opened your mouth to him. His free hand went to your hair, gently pulling out the pins that held it in place, until it tumbled down around your shoulders. Later, you wouldn’t be sure if it was you or him that had turned the kiss hungry, but the shift felt so natural, like coming home, even as heat spread through you like wildfire, desperate and out of control. When your mouths finally separated, you were both breathless. You panted, trying to catch your breath and he placed a kiss below your ear before he gently sucked and nipped a line down the column of your throat and across your breasts. His clever tongue swirled over your nipple through the fabric of your gown and you gasped, arching in to him. He tugged at your neckline, seeking access to more skin and growled in frustration when it didn’t give way. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him back up so that you could cover his mouth with your own again. He reached around to the back of your gown, nimble fingers making light work of the dozens of tiny buttons tracing your spine. As he reached the final button, you suddenly remembered that you were outside. It was dark, and the storm made it improbable that anyone would happen upon you out here in the gazebo, but improbable was not impossible. “Wait,” you murmured. To his credit, his hands stilled instantly, albeit reluctantly, and he raised his head to regard you. “Not here, someone might see us.” “I don’t care,” he said, his mouth returning to your throat and you struggled to recall why you were objecting. “Nikolai…” you tried again weakly. “I must have you,” he insisted, his voice rough with arousal, “I cannot wait a moment longer.” And really, how were you to argue with that? You dragged your hands down his chest, grabbing the hem of his shirt and he smiled as he lifted his arms, helping you pull it up and off over his head. When he slipped your gown from your shoulders, he sank to his knees along with it, pressing teasing kisses across your abdomen as the fabric pooled at your feet. Your hands grasped his shoulders as he lowered your underwear, baring you to him completely and a sudden wave of shyness over took you. You carded your fingers through his hair, fighting the urge to cover yourself. “Perfect,” he murmured, raising his eyes to meet yours. The desire in his gaze was so intense that it seemed to simmer in the air between you and just like that, your embarrassment dissipated. He tugged gently on your hips, urging you downward and when you joined him on the floor he tipped you backwards so that you were laying on your gown. The damp fabric was soft against your skin, cushioning your body from the unforgiving wood beneath it. Nikolai lay down beside you, propped up on one elbow and ran his free hand across your collarbone and down your side, his fingers skimming the underside of your breast, tracing your ribs and fluttering lightly over your stomach until they reached the apex of your thighs. He circled your clit, slow at first, gentle, and then gradually increased in speed and pressure as your body responded. He slipped his tongue into your mouth at the same time as he slipped a finger inside you and when you shuddered, he added another, curling them just right in a way that had you moaning his name. Your whole body felt tense, every muscle straining for release and he dipped his head to capture the dusky peak of one nipple between his teeth. The extra stimulation was all that you needed to reach your peak, and you clutched to him desperately as the wave of your orgasm crested, your core clenching around his fingers as he coaxed you through it. “Saints, you’re so beautiful when you come,” he confessed, his voice low and gravelly. You wanted to kiss him, but he seemed so far away and you still felt fuzzy, your limbs not quite under your control, so you settled for pressing a kiss to his shoulder instead. Luckily he seemed to understand what you needed, he hovered over you, careful to keep his weight off you as he claimed your mouth again, but you were impatient for more. You nipped at his bottom lip, pulling him down on to you, wanting to feel every inch of his body against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him ever closer and swallowed his gasp when his clothed arousal made contact with your center. You reached a hand between you and tugged at his laces, eager to rid him of his breeches. He rushed to help, pushing them down so he could kick them off as soon as they were untied. He settled himself between your thighs, his cock dipping between your folds almost of its own accord and you suddenly couldn’t wait to have him inside you. You watched as he lined himself up with your entrance.                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Nikolai pressed his forehead to yours, looking down the length of your bodies so he could watch as he entered you for the first time. The sound you made as he pushed inside was almost enough to undo him, and he had to close his eyes, fighting for control of his body. Only once he was certain he would not embarrass himself did he begin to move, burying himself in your heat only to retreat, over and over in a punishing rhythm that forced the air from his lungs and had you writhing beneath him. He groaned as you moved your own hips against him, meeting his thrusts on the downstroke, chasing your own pleasure as much as his. He straightened, raising himself up slightly so he could take you in, wanting to absorb every tiny detail of you beneath him. The way your hair was spread out around you like a halo, the pink blush that spread across your cheeks and down your chest, the perfect cupids bow of your lips, kiss swollen and cherry red. He wanted to commit the moment to memory, never wanted to forget the sight of you, sinful and gorgeous, and utterly wrecked. He lowered his head so he could nip gently at the expanse of skin just above your collarbone. You keened in response, tipping your head back to bare more of your throat to him and he felt a surge of something dark and possessive, an almost overwhelming sensation that made him want to sink his teeth in, to suck a bruise into your skin and mark you as his. But he would never do it without your permission, so settled for slanting his mouth over yours instead. He hitched your legs up higher on his waist, changing the angle slightly and allowing him to slide even deeper. You cried out as he finally hit that perfect spot inside you and he groaned. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made. He chased every moan, every sigh, like an addict looking for his next fix and he knew that even if he got to make love to you a million times over, it would never be enough. You were the sea and he was a sailor lost to the rip-tide, ready to drown in your depths. His hips began to lose their rhythm as he felt the first tendrils of his impending climax creeping up his spine and he was torn between the near desperate need to come and not wanting this to ever end. He slipped his hand between your sweat slick bodies to circle your clit as he worked his hips harder, determined that you should reach completion right along with him. Your nails dug in to his shoulder involuntarily as your orgasm hit you and you whispered his name like a prayer. The spike of pain only heightened his pleasure as he followed you over the edge, spilling his seed deep within you.                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - You turned on to your side so that you were lying face to face, so close that your noses were touching, your limbs tangled together and sweat cooling on your skin. The rain showed no sign of stopping and you knew that you should get dressed, go back inside before you both caught a chill, but you were content to bask in the afterglow for as long as possible. Nikolai seemed to be in agreement. He made no effort to move beyond stroking his fingers up and down the length of your arm in a slow caress, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his path. “Marry me,” he murmured and your tender heart skipped a beat.

You didn’t know what to say, so you settled for just a slight shake of your head. Nikolai sighed dramatically.  “Before you give me your final answer, I should tell you that declining the King’s hand almost certainly counts as treason.”

“You’re already engaged,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes. “Not if I don’t want to be,” he said easily. “I don’t care about making a political alliance and I’m sure Alina doesn’t either. She’ll likely be relieved to be rid of me, as will her tracker.” “You’re the King,” you reminded him, “You can’t just marry whoever you want on a whim.” “Actually I can,” he smirked, looping an arm around your waist to pull you even closer. “I can do as I please, because I am the King. A perk of the position is being able to indulge all of my whims.” “We both know that’s not true. You have to do what is best for Ravka, and making a bastard orphan your Queen is not it.” “Why not? They already have a bastard King, why not complete the matching set?” he grinned. “Nikolai…” He sighed exasperatedly. “If you come up with any more objections, I’m going to get my feelings hurt.” “But your advisors -“ you argued. “Are just that, advisors. They give me advice, but I do not have to take it. In fact, I much prefer to completely ignore them whenever possible. It keeps them humble,” he winked. “Nikolai, be serious,” you admonished. “I am,” he protested, “I have never been more serious about anything in my life. I have given Ravka everything I have, I am allowed to be selfish in this. I want you and I shall have you as my wife, provided you will allow it.” Your stomach did a little flip and you bit your lip, trying not to show how affected you were by his words. “I don’t know,” you mused, your tone teasing, “I have had several offers for my hand this evening. I shall have to consider my options.” “Of course,” he agreed, nodding sagely before his smile turned wicked, “but perhaps there is something I could do to tip the balance in my favor?” He nudged you gently onto your back and shifted over you so that he could trail a path of teasing kisses across your collarbone and down the length of your body. “Mmmm” you hummed airily, pretending to think about it. You threaded your fingers through the mess of his curls as he reached the apex of your thighs. “Perhaps.”

[wesleysniperking]

Strawhats’ Band AU

- The Strawhats’ sound is akin to Beirut and Broken Social Scene.

Band Members and Instruments:

- Usopp: Bass guitar. (Engineer and Songwriter/Lyricist)

- Luffy: Lead singer.

- Nami: Keyboardist/pianist/synth player.

- Zoro: Drummer.

- Sanji: Trombonist. (Might play other hard-a** brass instruments). (Lyricist/SW)

- Chopper: Maracas, Tamborine, and instruments similar to those. (He can play the Kalimba and idiophone type).

- Robin: Harp. (Can play the Theremin too).

- Franky: Electric guitar. (Engineer)

- Jinbe: Percussion line.

- Brook: Violinist. (Composer)

Nami: Keyboard/piano prodigy exploited by corrupt talent scout Arlong. She tried to sue him for damages after her adopted mom passed away. She had a breakdown but returned to music with Luffy’s help.

Zoro: Dedicated and talented drummer with a slight drinking problem. His playing style is swift, intense, and controlled. Learned to play in the same style as a late friend.

Sanji: Talented trombonist who left a philharmonic orchestra due to politics and personal reasons.

Luffy: Former member of the marine band, sent there by his grandpa after attending military/marine school but managed to escape.

Usopp: Music college dropout who is haunted by his famous father, whom he never knew. His girlfriend passed away from cancer. He had posted YouTube covers and gained a following. His late mother was an indie artist who never achieved widespread success. It is uncertain whether she was a groupie.

(all EB5 were homeless or broke at one point before meeting).

Both Robin and Nami have had experiences similar to Kesha, involving exploitation in the music industry.

Usopp’s dad, Yasopp or “Chaser”, is a famous bassist, ranked as one of the best of all time by Rolling Stone.

Shanks or “Red Hair” is Luffy’s mentor. He is the famous lead singer of a Grammy award-winning band.

Red Hair Pirates - They are a famous Grammy award-winning band with a sound similar to War, King Harvest, Dire Straits, and Guns N’ Roses, depending on the era.

Usopp and the band have a falling out when they alter their sound and remove a fan-favorite song, "Merry," from the setlist.

Usopp leaves the band after a public feud with Franky and Luffy’s decision to remove "Merry" from the Water 7 music festival setlist, which is akin to Coachella or Lollapalooza.

Sabaody Groove Fest: This festival is similar to the controversial Warped Tour, with various allegations surrounding it.

Usopp modified Nami’s keyboard to have unique synth sounds, similar to the Climatact.

“Merry” was believed to be an ex of Usopp’s, but it’s revealed that the song personifies the band’s journey and dream towards success. The band is surprised by this revelation.

- Franky writes a successful song called “Sunny” that charts well, but fans believe "Merry" will become a classic.

Each bandmate will receive honorifics and titles in their 40s or 50s. Usopp will be ranked #1 or #2 on the best rock bassists of all time list, surpassing his dad.

Usopp also creates a musical collective with other Black artists, developing a following of 8,000+ fans.

The band’s (Strawhats) fandom name is Nakama or Sailors

- When not singing, Luffy plays the cymbals, fooling around when he’s not leading the vocals.

- Usopp returns at the Water 7 festival as Sogeking, playing a crucial bass solo riff, symbolizing his readiness to rejoin the band. Luffy pulls him on stage to finish the song with a cool bass riff.

The Strawhats might decide to make a political statement during a performance, similar to when Luffy told Usopp to shoot the flag in the show. This could involve revealing an anti-government poster or banner, which could then go viral. Alternatively, they might do something in support of Robin, who is in a dispute with her former record label.

I have a dirty little secret. I wrote a song about Merry to accompany the fic idea. It’s a little cringe but I recorded it and everything. I might share it one day. Lol!

This is what I mean by the band’s sound…

They’d pull something like this in public.

BSS lyrics are pretty raw and bombastic in a way I feel like the SHs would be.

Music video is basically about pirates (???) and it reminds me of one of Luffy’s moves.

[spuffybot]

I just did a watch of Welcome to the Hellmouth and The Harvest. There’s so many amazing little things happening in those first two episodes.

1. The Music: there is so much 90s sitcom music happening. Especially at the end of The Harvest when they avert the apocalypse and it’s just Giles, Buffy, Xander, and Willow reflecting on what happened. The music sounds like it’s from an episode of 7th Heaven.

2. Everything David Boreanaz is doing is hysterical. You can tell it’s one of baby’s first real acting gigs. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, his arms are swinging inexplicably, and he makes standing still look so painfully awkward.

3. The Wardrobe: We get some of the best and worst looks in these two episodes and it’s quite frankly, iconic. Buffy’s first day of school look literally defined a generation. However her first night at The Bronze look??? What is happening here? And let’s not even get started on Angels shiny plush velvet jacket. He’s giving hot topic vampire.

4. The Lighting: I love how dark season 1 is, it’s a total vibe and I have so much nostalgia for watching this show when it was first on TV. But there are scenes that are actually impossible to see (the opening sequence for example) and there’s a moment in The Harvest where Buffy shatters a window and you can just see where the prosthetics are glued to Luke’s face.

5. The Prosthetics: If you didn’t know, they changed the prosthetics because they were so hard to talk in! Darla is impossible to understand half the time and they had to change some of Jesse’s lines because he couldn’t say “s” words.

6. Darla x The Mythology: ok so obviously we know Darla goes on a journey. It’s funny to look back at these initial episodes and see her behaving in ways that feel out of character. She doesn’t seem to know much about Slayers. She’s easily defeated by some holy water and a cross (wielded by Willow and Giles of all people.) She’s deferential to Luke in a way that makes her seem higher in rank than a fledgling but certainly not the 500 year old vampire we come to know. There’s also so many small mythology things that don’t make the cut or are evolved over time. Giles has seemingly never encountered many supernatural creatures and is unaware of what a Hellmouth is. Vampires eyes glow in the dark and they have talon like nails. Buffy’s stakes look like coffee table legs. I love seeing how the show grows beyond these beginnings.

I’m excited to continue watching season 1. I almost always skip straight to School Hard in any rewatch of the series and it’s so much fun to revisit these early episodes.