#followers u get first pick when I’ve sliced the bars. enjoy.

[singlecrochet]

anyway. This is gonna fucking rule

[isthischopper]

hi thereee, i see ur requests are open and i’d like to request…!!!!

a (if you don’t feel comfortable doing fem, g/n is fine too!) fem!s/o who ate a devil fruit that makes her a long, curly-haired lion! it also gives her a tail and ears in human-beast, beast, or normal form! and it also gives her human form hair similar to killers (long, curly-ish? luscious, you get it)

but could i request that with shanks, or zoro? possibly both if you’d like! i’m fine with either tho<3 thank you and u have amazing works!

hi! i actually love this request, and while i’ve been pretty inactive, it keeps coming back into my mind!

i’ve written a choppy little story, broken into 4 small parts. i hope you enjoy!

⁀➷ Lone Pirate

⋆ Roronoa Zoro x fem!Reader

You frequent this bar, for better or worse, a beer. Simple, effective, tasty. The bar gets quiet when you're there, the other frequents knowing not to screw around with you. You use it to your advantage, but it is a little annoying; nobody ever talks to you other than the bartender.

To be fair, you're not so talkative either.

Most pirates are the creepy-kind. Weirdos with even weirder beards and less guts than their own beer belly. Meaning... why even give them a chance?

Only a few minutes pass after your arrival, and the bar's filling up. Groups of pirates, you assume, pile in, gnarling their order and sitting at a vacant wooden table.

A younger, more colourful, group sits adjacent to you.

You paid no mind, until some burly old man tried to pick a fight. He yelled in their faces, before smashing his beer on the bar, and, successfully covering you in the foamy-sticky substance. Truly, some people have no consideration for the innocent bystander.

"Can I help you??" you snap, shooting up from your bar stool.

"Are you with them?" he spits back, bending his neck just so you could smell his rotten breath.

…them?

Before you could reconsider, you're slamming him head-first on the hard wooden bar counter, knocking him out. The other pirates looked taken off guard; presumably not expecting that reaction out of you, the rest of the patrons silent.

You decide leaving now is your best option, before someone shows up to find their friend on the floor.

***

Months later, you find yourself in the Land of Wano.

You’d heard of Kaidou’s plans for New Onigashima while searching for another island to explore. Sure, you were considered a pirate, but you weren’t in it for fame or fortune; craving the experience of it all instead. You’d explored the country, familiarized yourself with the history and culture, and joined the side of the Straw Hats— the colourful group at the bar, you came to learn.

Now: buildings are flaming, fights are raging everywhere, and the sounds of explosions are ringing in the distance constantly.

You were running the flaming halls, searching rooms for anyone injured or caught in the fire. Somehow, wrapped up in the sounds of destruction all around you, a group of men working under Kaidou slipped your ears. They’d been following you, waiting for the perfect moment to group up and take you all at once.

Who you did notice, however, was a man sprinting in your direction from down the hall. Your hair nearly stood up on end, your body screaming at you to perform some type of defence. He was looking right through you (so you thought), swords drawn, teeth bared. He looked quite intimidating; save for the green hair.

Just before he reached you, his sword swiped against another just two inches shy of your left ear. The clash slicing some of your white-blonde hair clean off. But— you had already figured it out before a single curl hit the floor.

You couldn’t help to be glad he wasn’t aiming for your neck (because he most certainly would have had it).

You had ducked under the swords upon their impact, revolving on your heel to face the group of goons. The green-haired Straw Hat already had the first three handled, so you planted your foot and pounced on the next.

It was quick work, between the two of you.

“You broke his nose.”

You hadn’t even remembered touching a nose, to be honest. You frowned, looking at the pile of defeated men on the floor.

“Which one?”

He chuckles briefly in response to your question, sliding his swords back into their respective encasing. His arms flexing effortlessly (or, maybe on purpose).

“No, at the bar that day.” he pauses “That was you, right?”

“…Depends who’s asking.” you wink.

Deciding that standing around isn’t too beneficial to the current situation, he offers you to follow. You had clicked well, bantering between brawls and fighting together like how a puzzle piece fits.

His swords and your claws working in unison.

***

Later, when the crew is celebrating the defeat of Kaidou over a drink, you’re sitting alone and taking in the view. The green haired pirate joins you, his scent alerting you of his presence before he’d sat down next to you.

“We’ll be leaving soon, It would be a shame to not have your name.” he speaks quietly, sounding much different compared to the adrenaline-fed, raspy voice you heard earlier.

Of course you knew his name, thanks to the word of Wano. People were talking about the Straw Hats everywhere, it was hard to not hear. You hadn’t considered he’d want yours.

“Y/n. Leaving me here after all we’ve been through?” you chuckle.

Kicking back, he rests his back against a rock and tucks his arms behind his head. His eyes are closed, breathing steady, but alert and conscious.

“Things to do, places to be, Luffy says.” he jokes, letting a sigh out and stretching his sore neck.

You lounge back next to him, shoulders touching. Eyes closed, the atmosphere taking over your senses. It’s serene, almost, if you tune out the hollering and music of the celebration.

His body was warm, where it met yours. You could smell the smoke and blood remaining on his skin. You really would miss him, it’s a different type of feeling to have someone you work so well with.

Fighting together, you cleared paths easily. Bonnie and Clyde, almost. What you couldn’t catch Zoro did, and you had his back in the same way. You mutually agreed on a plan every time, without any communication; it came naturally— a rare occurrence.

“Do you have a crew?” he asks.

“Mmm-mm,” you hum “Just me.”

You weren’t sure of the real meaning of this question, but soon after his fingers found their way to discreetly brush on your thigh.

***

“Who’s Zoro with over there?” Jinbe quizzes to chopper, who works to bandage a few surface scrapes.

“She’s a lone pirate!” he deduces. “A Zoan user, really strong…” he trails off, concentrating on the task at hand.

Jinbe chuckles to himself, studying the girl. It seems Chopper is right; she has the ears and tail of a lion, not to mention her mane of curly hair. He heard she had retractable claws, too. He wonders her origin.

Though, things are too joyful to be so inquisitive. He trusts Zoro’s judgment.

“A lone pirate, you say?”

“Mm, yes,” chopper confirms, stepping back to admire his work and placing his hands on his hips.

“Why do you ask?”

Jinbe chuckles again, nodding his head in the direction of Zoro and the girl. He noticed their friendliness when Zoro had first joined her, something that wasn’t too easy to come by with the green haired fire-cracker.

Jinbe leans down to match Choppers height, a mischievous grin on his face.

“I’m not sure I have seen Zoro do that before.” he states.

The click of Chopper’s feet as he turns, and then the full body shock that elopes him is enough to have Jinbe holding back a hysterical cackle. Obviously Chopper hadn’t seen it happen either.

The two of you were met for a kiss when his eyes landed on you. Slow and sensual, causing the innocent little deer to blush a deep shade of red.

Zoro’s hand held your hip just above the ruffles on your shorts, and your palm bared his chest. You were still in the same relaxed position against the rock with your bodies rotated slightly to reach, eyes closed again.

“Zoro!!??? Whaa-!!!” squeals Chopper, gaining the attention of the others.

You blush pink, but Zoro’s smug smile says it all.

What an interesting match, Jinbe thinks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[bcdwhcre]

hey queen! Girl you have done it again. Constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly. i’d say i’m surprised but i know who you are. i’ve seen it up close and personal. girl you make me so proud.

“Father figure” is so cute omg 🥺 Could Maybe write something about reader finally joining the scouts and Levi/erwin being so impressed by scared for her (if u want)

“Father Figure,” Pt 2 Levi x Erwin Headcanon

PLEASEEEE, I love you🤧❤️ I shall give out a part 2. I’m thinkinnnng Levi’s reaction to you joining scouts annnnd Erwin’s reaction to both you wanting to be a scout and dating Jean😗 we’ll see how that goes.

Warnings: Season 3 mentions aka the beast titan for Levi. that is alllllllll

PART ONE

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Levi:

It had taken weeks, even a few months before Levi had finally went through with letting you join the scouts but he never took it easy on you, he treated you the same and even when he would train with you alone, he would be more harsh.

He only did this to benefit you, he wanted you to be better and definitely better than him and it had all worked in his favor. Once the first expedition came along, you had proven yourself well above than what the scouts expected.

As Levi watched you swing, flip and spin along the lines between buildings and the way you swiftly had taken down your first Titan, he was in awe the entire time. His eyes never left you and he would admit he got a bit emotional.

The flashbacks of you as a small child, tugging on his coat that he would wear and the way you always wanted to ride his horse or hear stories, they all flooded his mind. His own child stood in front of him, grown up and turned into a mini Levi and he couldn’t help but feel proud.

It wasn’t long until you turned into exactly like Levi onto the field, always putting yourself at risk and taking the bigger Titans on by yourself with no issue. He was shocked to say the least, he wouldn’t have expected you to grow up so quickly and turn into such a great scout.

One mission in particular had Levi on the edge, when the commander had ordered for only Levi to handle the beast titan, you had all but ignored both their commands and followed behind your father in battle. Maybe it was because you were worried for your dads safety, you didn’t want him to take the beast Titan on his own. You knew he was the best of the best but even then, you still knew your fathers weakness.

At the last moment, you had swooped in and spun around in the air, using your blades to swipe through and cut the hand off that was reaching for you before lunging your blades right through his eyes, hearing Levi yelling behind you.

“What the hell are you doing?! This wasn’t your mission!” He was beyond frustrated with you but more fearful that you would get caught up because you were too confident in yourself.

You ignored your fathers yelling, following his lead and instantly breaking apart the beast Titan until Levi had sliced the nape of his neck open and saw the older man break out of the Titans skin.

“Y/N, take your ass back to where the cadets are!” Levi grabbed onto your upper arm and practically yanked you towards him, the fury in his eyes was all but filled with fear.

“Dad, we literally just took down the beast Titan and you’re screaming in my face because I helped?” You glared up at him, the stubbornness you both had was too overbearing.

While you two were busy bickering about you joining in the fight, another Titan swooped in and had almost chopped you up in their mouth but Levi had pushed you down, watching the Titan pick the beast Titans body and run off.

“You let them get away because you were too fucking worried about me!” You yelled at your father, the anger boiling in both of you was steaming hot and he couldn’t help but feel angry towards himself too, for letting him get so distracted.

Levi had let a deep breath in, rubbing his temples for a moment as he tried to think clearly. He had reached over to you, embracing you in a tight hug and rested his chin on the top of your head, luckily you were short enough for him to even do so.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to get used to you being out here and I get... scared. Only because you remind me of... me when I first joined, always putting yourself on the line, always going out of your way to prove you’re better but I need you to be careful.” He fully admitted, shaking his head at your carelessness but he couldn’t stay mad because you learned all that from him.

“Dad, I’m not stupid. I’m being careful, you have to trust me.” You rolled your eyes at your father, you frustrated you but you couldn’t help but understood the fear he felt while you were out here with him.

“I do trust you but I also need you to listen to commands when directed, do you hear me? You aren’t in control.” He grabbed your shoulders and forced you to look up at him, making you slowly nod you head.

“Don’t let that shit happen again or else you’ll be on horse shit duty.”

.

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Erwin:

Erwin wasnt as strict when you joined the scouts, he was actually pretty proud to know he raised you to be a great cadet and probably a great future leader. All the nights he helped trained you was a very proud moment for him to be apart of.

He felt like he had accomplished something greater, this was a feeling better than becoming a Commander and that was raising you to be a great scout member.

He had put you under Levi’s team for many reasons, only because he wanted him to watch you closely and he had trusted Levi enough to put his child’s fate in his hands.

He had watched you flourish nicely on expeditions, you always proved yourself to be great. Your first expedition you had taken down a total of five Titans on your own and ended up saving Connie in the middle of it.

Erwin couldn’t help but openly get emotional in front of everyone, causing them to grow awkward at your fathers tears as he watched you. You had repeatedly told him to stop being so emotional about everything but he did anyways, he couldn’t help but cry only because he was so proud of who you’ve grown to be.

The long nights of staying up with you when you wouldn’t sleep, the days where he would forget about his work to take you out on walks, to explore with you and play silly games that you made up. It was all worth it to him and his heart was full of love and happiness when it came to you.

But one day he had been looking for you after a mission, he was pretty worried and wanted to talk to you with dinner about how the mission went. He unexpectedly caught you and Jean outside alone, lips smashed together.

“Y/N, Jean.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and your face instantly heated up into a dark shade of red once you both had been caught, you wished it was anyone else but your own dad, you were completely embarrassed.

You had rushed inside, following your dad to his office where you two usually sat and ate your meals. Erwin was silent, he couldn’t stay mad at you thought, it was bound to happen that his own child would grow up and find someone.

“I didn’t know you two were daring.” He spoke up, causing your face to heat up again and you had tried to look anywhere else but him

“I mean, yeah, it’s only been recent.”

“Ahh and he makes you happy, yes? That’s what I would hope for.” He stared at you, both of you making eye contact and you were shocked that he was acting so calm about everything.

“Yeah, I’m happy.”

“Good, good but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been watching you on some missions and even had your Captain report back to me on how you do on them. I know I’ve said I didn’t want you to be apart of this life but I’m very proud of you, you’ve grown up to be amazing and intelligent. I’m proud to be your father.” Erwin told you, taking a bite out of his food to hold in the emotions he wanted to express but he had to tell himself to not be such an emotional father.

“Oh,” You were certainly caught off guard by his words and you had to think to yourself if this was a dream and ask yourself why was your father acting like this.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it, dead.” You smiled at him, both of you finishing your dinner rather quickly.

Erwin had ended the night laughing and bringing up stories of when you were a small child to both you and Jean, he mostly told you the embarrassing stories and would mention one or two that were adorable. You had shaken your head at your fathers idea of a fun time, telling embarrassing stories but Jean had been enjoying himself a little too much.

Your father stood across from you, the intense feeling of being proud but also mixed with fear when it came to you telling him about today’s mission and how you taken out a few Titans in a second all on your own. You were definitely his child but it was scary to see how fascinated you were with being a scout and how truly happy you were with your job.

Erwin had to swallow his pride and his instinct to be an over protecting father, he always feared for your life out on those missions but he also trusted you and your strength to come back alive and well, you were his child after all.

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AHH well. I hope this is as good as the first one🤧

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: prince!seokmin x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 12,690 ⚬ warnings: none. ⚬ genre: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, angst, teasing, some slowburn romance, superfluff toward the end.

✧✎ synopsis: the time has come for prince seokmin to meet his arranged marriage, which forces you to confront a strange predicament: if you truly hate the prince, then why does the thought of him being with someone else hurt this badly?

✧✎ a/n: yeah... i’ve wanted to write some prince!lsm since his excalibur pictures. evidently, i am very late! i hope u enjoy nonetheless :-)

Hiking up the long, heavy layers of your dress, pale and coloured like lilacs, you retrieved a small carving knife that had been clandestinely strapped against your outer thigh. Buried a few feet away from you in the grass was a smooth, palm-sized piece of beech wood, which you quickly picked up before walking back to the bench. You sat down horizontally, stretching out your legs and taking up as much space as possible whilst you started carving down the edges of the beech wood, flicking away the occasional shavings.

It was only to kill time as you waited for the royal gates to open. That night, the King and Queen were hosting an annual, celebratory dinner to commemorate the newest anointment of pages, otherwise known as the fresh grouping of students who would serve the knights and learn about their duties, specifically how they protected and served the kingdom. It was a true honour: you had been requested to cook in the royal kitchen, and the younger apprentice your mother hired at the bakery, Chan, was going with you.

He was notably excited and couldn’t sit down, instead pacing in front of the tall, wooden gateway into the castle grounds. This would be his first time seeing the royal family’s abode from the inside, and if he was particularly lucky, he might get to meet the Prince. To him it was a big deal, but you couldn’t care less. At even just thinking about the Prince, you started pressing your knife harder against the beech wood, gritting your teeth as a larger piece curled off and fell into your lap. Lee Seokmin, he was the Prince. 

You absolutely hated him.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, child?”

The sunlight that glinted against your face was interrupted by your mother, who had her hands sternly placed on her hips, glaring down at you in sheer disapproval.

“Give me that.” She quipped whilst scowling at the blade. “This instant.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up properly on the bench and dusted the cream-coloured shavings off your lap. She never let you do anything, and when you were in close proximity to the castle, she became even more rigid and hawk-eyed. You gave her the knife which she hastily folded up, watching her pocket it inside a pouch on the front of her white dress. 

You still held onto the beech wood.

“There is no reason to bring a weapon into the King and Queen’s home. I should not have to reprimand you like this once more. Behave in the way I have taught you.”

Suddenly, there was a loud command you heard echo from the turret, and the tall, wooden gateway into the castle grounds began pulling apart. You heard the clink belonging to the iron chains and the cracks in the elderly oak. Chan stumbled backward, leaving sufficient room for the gate to open. Unlike the apprentice whose eyes were glimmering in awe, you had to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and put on your fakest, most convincing expression of content. It was going to be the longest night of your life – even longer if you had to eat supper with the Prince.

Just before you were guided into the royal family’s abode by the caterers, you swiftly pulled up the side of your dress and tucked the piece of beech wood between the garter belt at your thigh. Then, you rushed to stand beside Chan.

“Excited, are you?” You asked him.

He tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind his ear, practically bouncing in his place. “It is my biggest wish to sit down with the Prince! To cook for him is already a sure pleasure.”

You couldn’t help but huff at the apprentice’s enthusiasm. He should consider himself lucky he didn’t know Seokmin the way you did.

Time passed quickly, and it was almost two hours into preparing the onslaught of fruit, meat, vegetables, and grain required to make the celebratory supper. The royal kitchen was much larger than the small, quaint space you operated back at the bakery, where everything was tightly shoved together and you knew each crevice like the back of your hand. You were working up a sweat as you kneaded a large, thickening dough. Once you were satisfied, you floured a wooden roller and began flattening it out, using a tin can to cut perfect circles.

You told Chan to put the tray in the clay furnace and keep an eye on the rising bread.

“Where are you going?” He immediately inquired upon watching you untie your apron, hanging the splattered fabric on a hook jutting from the stone wall.

“It’s quite hot. I’m stepping outside for a few minutes. No more than that.”

The young boy nodded and proceeded to follow your orders, keeping a watchful eye on the dough that would soon become crispy, warm pieces of bread. You slipped into the long corridor that led outside. There was still a noticeable heat in the evening air, though it was much less overwhelming compared to the kitchen, packed with fires and bodies and steam. A soft, glowing pink tinted the sky, and you were surprised at how little clouds there were.

Just to be certain, you felt underneath your dress for the piece of beech wood, relieved to brush it against your skin.

A distant sound captured your attention, somewhat like the noise of steel slashing against steel. Walking along the side of pillaring cobblestone, the noise grew louder, accompanied by indiscernible, muffled shouting. You stepped around the small wildflowers sprouting from the grass, keeping as silent as possible upon approaching the corner that ended at an iron gate.

Sparing a cautious glance between the bars, you looked into a large courtyard covered with sand. There were two young men sparring against each other, competitive but lighthearted in their expressions and the nature of how they operated their swords.

It was none other than the Prince himself, Seokmin, against his lifelong accomplice, Jeonghan.

You plucked your head back and inhaled delicately. The unique airiness of Jeonghan’s laughter reverberated into the evening, summer air, joining hymn with the sharp steel. You peaked through the iron bars again. Seokmin was still buried in his hefty silver armor, a layer of chainmail hanging from his shoulders. Expertly, he caught the underside of Jeonghan’s sword with his own and twisted the weapon from his friend’s hands, which dropped against the sand with a soft thud. Jeonghan stumbled backward, panting heavily.

“For God’s sake, I surrender!” He laughed, dusting off his shiny armor.

Seokmin slid his sword back into the sheath at his waist, smiling triumphantly. 

“You squander each attempt at defeating me. Have you just lost another bet with my blacksmith?”

Jeonghan bent down to pick up his sword and huffed, “it could be so.”

“You are inclined to become a beggar,” the Prince teased, “thankfully, tonight’s feast shall leave you with plentiful portions to take to the streets.”

There was a small, stone fountain bubbling beneath an overhang in the courtyard. Seokmin allowed a generous cup of water to form in his hands before splashing it along his face, the droplets streaming down his amber skin that had been caked with dust. Once he cleared away the grit, he ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the long, black curls. 

He smirked at Jeonghan and uttered something to him you couldn’t decipher as they removed their chainmail. You studied him intently, feeling the warmth in your chest welt into disdain and anger.

“What are you doing all the way down there?!”

You jumped, sensing your flesh bristle. Turning around, you saw Chan standing at the doorway with his brow furrowed, probably wondering why you never returned to the kitchen. Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you hurried toward him and away from the courtyard, praying that neither the Prince nor his friend heard Chan’s shouting.

“Was there somebody out there? Who was it?” Chan immediately pestered you with questions.

“There was no one.” You told him whilst entering the kitchen, heaving a great sigh of relief upon seeing your bread removed from the clay furnace, the bread perfectly golden and risen in small domes.

Chan seemed skeptical, but he knew you were infamously defensive, so he didn’t investigate.

“Have you started the pastry for the cherry pie?” You asked him after setting the grain aside.

“No,” Chan replied, “I heard it is a favourite of the Prince. We must prepare it attentively.”

“Of course. Now, ask that lady over there if we can use her pie pan. We will start immediately.”

In complete honestly, you’d rather prepare any other dessert – even the chocolate soufflés, which were arguably difficult to perfect. However, you yet again bit your tongue and helped the eager apprentice remove the pits from the ruby red cherries, which landed in a wicker basket just at your feet. Every moment or so, you were tempted to leave behind a pit, entertaining the tiny thought that it could be inside the slice served to the Prince. You knew if that happened, neither you or Chan would be allowed to return to the castle.

It wasn’t so much skin off your nose, but Chan would definitely be disheartened.

You made sure to thoroughly clean all the cherries.

The dining hall was absolutely packed. There were rows of young pages standing at the table, hardly able to contain themselves as they stared glossy-eyed into the fresh cooked meals and desserts. No one had sat down yet, not until the King and Queen took their seats.

The Queen, swathed in the long, shimmering silk of her violet robe, observed the hungry crowd gathered before her. She was an alluring beacon, just like a porcelain doll, and the sapphire gems embossed in her crown glinted against the central chandelier. As you were specifically requested by the royal family to cook, you were granted a seat at the table, in between your mother and an anxious Chan who kept stealing glances at the Prince, standing next to his father. You refused to look at Seokmin, even when you felt his gaze trace the side of your face.

Suddenly, the Queen grabbed onto a sumptuous chalice and lifted it high in the air. She began making a toast to the newly appointed pages, congratulating the start of their journey. You copied your mother and reached for a silver goblet next to your plate, which had been prefilled with cold, dark purple wine. Everyone applauded her speech. Then, the King took over.

It was hard to pay attention, until you heard a particular name leave his mouth.

“As we continue the great customs of our ancestors who built this impenetrable kingdom, a new fate has arrived for Prince Seokmin.”

You flicked your gaze toward Seokmin, your heart hammering in your chest. His father set a hand on his shoulder, covered by a velvet, royal blue robe.

“Our son is at the rightful age to marry. After ample negotiation with the neighbouring and prosperous village of Markarth, their Lord has granted permission to his daughter, Lady Adelaide, as a possible contender. She will visit us on the summer solstice. I am prideful, and honoured, to announce this marvellous news alongside the blessed anointment of our pages.”

Instantly, you felt lightheaded, and you had to place the goblet back down on the table in order to avoid spilling the expensive wine. You knew this day would come eventually, but to hear that an arranged marriage was already brewing left a horrible taste in your mouth. The King shook his son’s shoulder with an honest pride, though Seokmin simply pressed his lips together and dipped his head slightly, acknowledging the announcement. You felt sick to your stomach. The thought of eating your beef wellington rendered you unable to even look at its outer pastry.

“Let us not dismiss the efforts of our valuable cooks, who prepared this rustic meal.” The King continued, staring in your direction.

He then praised the name of your mother, you, and Chan in specific. Everyone’s goblet remained in the air. Their gazes smeared across your flesh like wet ash.

“Is there anything you would like to say before we commence our feast?”

Your mother was ready to speak, though you managed to cut in before her.

“P-Pardon me, your Majesty, I am unbelievably humbled to cook for you tonight, but at this time I wish to be excused from the dining hall. May I part?”

Chan turned to look at you as though your hair were entangled in flames, and your mother grew notably tense. The atmosphere in the room was awfully palpable, like a thick balm that made it difficult to breathe. You could feel the pulse in your fingertips. The King then lowered his head to the Queen, and they briefly exchanged a whisper, seemingly coming to a verdict they both agreed on. Asking to be excused from a royal supper seldom occurred, if ever.

“If that is your wish,” the King said, his voice stern, “then you may part.”

You stepped away from your chair, making sure to bow toward the royal family. Seokmin was staring directly at you, his face looking hardened, cold.

“Thank you,” came your tiny response, “I hope you are delighted by the food.”

In the centre of the royal garden was a magnificent water fountain that came alive at nighttime, small, paper lanterns floating in its pool and glowing a solacing orange. You lay on your back, atop the fountain’s wide stone ledge, listening to the gushing water and staring up at the crescent moon. Everyone was still eating inside the dining hall. When you listened very intently, you could hear the faint notes of the live music. You didn’t regret leaving the supper, but you did regret not stealing a tiny bread loaf or even some fresh blackberries from the fruit baskets.  

Your stomach was aching, hungry.

Reaching down to tug up the side of your dress, you pulled out the beech wood you spotted in the grass that afternoon. You had wanted to carve something into its surface with your knife, though you weren’t sure what, and it definitely wouldn’t be possible until your mother returned the blade to you. As you held the smooth nature above your face and pressed your thumbs into its cream face, you were overcome by a new, frothing wave of anger. Seokmin was preparing to get married. The beech wood nearly split in two from your iron grip.

You hated thinking that at one point in your childhood, you genuinely liked the Prince, and harboured this flat-out embarrassing crush on him. So did everyone else, but Seokmin certainly didn’t help your malleable heart in pretending that he liked you back. You remembered it clear as day: Jeonghan, who was much smaller at the time, came bounding up to you, teeming with excitement and using his squeaky voice to tell you that Seokmin wanted to kiss you, and that you needed to meet the Prince by Peace River in the forest.

Of course, you obliged without even having to think, and your friends spent the whole morning twisting small bluebells and buttercups in your hair. When you arrived at Peace River, Seokmin was waiting for you, standing in a patch of sunlight that cut through the trees, wearing a long, silk red robe in addition to his silver crown. It was the most nervous you had ever felt in your entire life, and you remembered feeling dizzy as Seokmin gazed down at you with a sweet look in his honey eyes. The two of you leaned in closer, closer, closer…

And right when you felt his lips ghost yours, Seokmin took a step back and you heard a huge fit of laughter erupt from the thick brush in the background.

Seokmin’s friends came stumbling from their hiding spots, some holding their stomachs with how hard they were cackling, others wiping a tear from their eye, all whilst you experienced a shock bottom out in your gut. The realization that everything had been a ruse gave you a tough, metaphorical slap across the face. Jeonghan had to lean against a tree trunk as he gripped his stomach, and a familiar burn stung your cheeks upon remembering the words he coughed out, something along the lines of, “you truly thought the Prince liked you?!”

The worst part was that Seokmin didn’t say anything, he just looked at you sadly. Since then, your contempt for Seokmin blossomed, and he didn’t hesitate to bite back.

Not wanting to break the beech wood, you lowered it from your face and slid it back between the lace garter hidden beneath your dress. When you glanced at the moon, you noticed that a small, orange ball was floating above you. Sitting up, your eyes widened at the sight of numerous orange dots, glimmering all throughout the garden. You recognized them as fireflies, which had always been one of your favourite things about the night. Occasionally, you and Chan would catch the small bugs in mason jars and release them by Peace River.

One fluttered close to your face, so you stuck out your finger hoping it would land. But, out of nowhere, you heard someone walking in the grass and immediately plucked your finger away, instead peering through the moonlight where you spotted a silhouette. Once the figure came into the aurora of the water fountain, you felt your stomach drop. It was none other than the Prince himself. He was no longer wearing his royal robe, just a white poet shirt with the deep, v-shaped collar left unbuttoned, and some black capris. He wasn’t even sporting any jewelry apart from a silver bulb through his right earlobe.

“Why must you act with such blatant disrespect?” He was quick to scold you for leaving the dinner. “Could you have not sat down? Stayed out of honour and given your untouched portions to the beggars?”

You scoffed. “Do not ridicule me like one of your pages. I was asked to cook, and so I did. No more, no less.”

Seokmin huffed, blowing the black curls away from his eyes. “You were invited to eat as well.”

“I fulfilled my principal duty. There was no reason to stay.”

“You could have at least eaten something. A wedge of pie, a peach clove. For heaven’s sake, there was bread at the entryway.”

Unwilling to stay seated and argue, you stood up from the fountain and brushed off your dress, no longer paying attention to the fireflies that illuminated the garden. Of course you wished you took some food; your stomach was collapsing in on itself, though you would not admit it.

“Why are you so concerned with my meals?” You snapped. “Should you not return to your private quarters and get well rested for the summer solstice?”

After mocking his arranged marriage, you couldn’t bear to look Seokmin in the eye. For some reason, a lump got caught in your throat and you felt a hot surge push against your tear ducts.

“Judging by your poor temper, it is you who needs more rest than I.” The Prince shot back.

You couldn’t stand there any longer. Biting harshly into your bottom lip, you attempted to brush by Seokmin and exit the garden. Instead you would find the  gateway and wait until your mother and Chan arrived before leaving the castle grounds. There was food back at the house anyway, you assumed maybe some milk pudding, or sunflower seeds. It wouldn’t satiate you, but at least quell the hunger pangs until morning. However, when Seokmin grabbed your elbow you immediately flared, releasing a sharp yelp as he held you in place.

“And where do you think you’re off to?” Seokmin growled, lessening his grip on your arm and leaning in close to your face. “Come with me. I must give you something.” 

Peering into the Prince’s dark brown eyes, you snarled, “what?”

He was close enough that you could see the tiny scar on the bridge of his nose from when he and Jeonghan had chased each other with fireplace pokers. You thought about looking at his lips, pretty and pink, but refused to break eye contact. The Prince didn’t say anything, just tugged you through the garden, between the thorny rosebushes, the intricate strings of bleeding hearts, and huge pots of pastel, cotton hydrangeas. To your surprise, Seokmin guided you back into the kitchen you had occupied just a few hours ago.

Then, he opened a wood cupboard and pulled out a polished, bright silver tin, which he thrusted into your arms. You peeled the lid open and saw that the tin was filled with raspberry glazed Danishes, to which the fragrant smell of flaky pastry and berries caused your mouth to water.

“S-Seokmin, I—,” you were going to reject him.

“I am not doing charity work for you. It is the custom of our celebratory suppers to not let any guest leave unfed, or pained by hunger.”

He looked at you with a cold expression, and his tone deepened. “Now, you may wait at the front gate for your companion and mother. It is not your place to wander around my castle. I could have you arrested.”

You welcomed his threat. “I anticipate such a drastic measure if it ensures I’ll never have to see your face again.”

Seokmin didn’t look half as amused. He moved in close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin as he uttered inimically, “leave.”

During the walk home to your village quarters, Chan had already shoved an entire pastry into his mouth, licking the raspberry jam off his fingers. Your mother was eager to know who gifted you such an expensive tin alongside the Danishes. Not wanting to admit your confrontation with Seokmin, you churned up a white lie about how they were a present from another cook.

“Certainly?” She seemed quite surprised. “That is a rare gift. To my knowledge, tins with that level of embroidery are only seen inside the castle. Perhaps that cook quite liked you.”

At the early stretch of dawn, you felt someone grasp your shoulder and shake it roughly, until your eyes pulled open, groggy and blurred. You were sitting up in bed, looking bitter. Chan was next to you, and whilst he wore an apologetic expression, you could sense there was a degree of urgency to his actions.

“What’s the matter?” You hummed, digging the heel of your palm into your eye.

Just outside the windowpane, you could see the calm sunrise and feel the morning, serene warmth through the glass.

“Your mother told me to wake you, that we should head to the bakery immediately.” 

As you stumbled around your bedroom, fitting on a pair of degrading, sandalwood slippers before patting your face down with cold water from the well, you were wondering why it was so important that you attend the bakery, that your mother would need to send Chan to fetch you. Still dressed in your nightgown, you left the house alongside the young apprentice and hurried down the quiet road, passing all the tiny markets and apparel shops. As soon as the bakery came into view, you gasped, for a pearl blue carriage was stationed outside, paired to a stallion with silk, white hair. It grazed at a patch of grass and honeysuckle.

There seemed to be a crowd gathered inside the bakery, which only further piqued your curiosity. Chan couldn’t help but stroke the horse’s brilliant fur, which glowed like an amber pool due to the sunlight. You had only taken a measly step or two inside the bakery until jamming to a halt. Right before your eyes, speaking to your mother across the counter was perhaps one of the most pristinely-dressed, elegant girls to ever grace your kingdom. Her dress was long and flowing, a dark green forest jade, accented with gold lacing and a slim pair of gloves that stretched high up her arms.

Chan appeared equally stunned, for he thudded into your backside and stood staring at the girl like she was a rare type of crystal. Almost immediately, you noted the petit, twinkling tiara sitting on her head. Before she could even introduce herself, you knew exactly who she was.

“Lady Adelaide.” You heard Chan whisper to himself.

It immediately dawned on you that the summer solstice had finally arrived. The second she noted your presence at the door, her congregation of guards stepped back, allowing her to approach you. Without a second thought you bowed your head politely. She smelled like fresh clusters of jasmine and her voice was harmonious.

“I apologize, it wasn’t my intention to startle you or your apprentice,” (Chan’s face flushed a shy pink) “I heard from a guardsman of mine that your mother’s bakery is nothing short of wondrous, and I knew I had to stop here before I meet with your kingdom’s Prince.”

You stuttered straight through your teeth, “t-that’s wonderful. P-Pleased, we’re absolutely pleased to serve you, Lady Adelaide. We will prepare anything you desire.”

“Certainly.” Chan agreed.

“I’ll have to spend some time looking over the pastries,” she said jovially, “right now, I am truly awed by how delicious everything appears. My decision will come shortly.”

“Of course.” You responded, rubbing your clammy palms against your dress.

Whilst Lady Adelaide carefully inspected each pastry through the glass, your mother had pulled you and Chan into the kitchen, where she made sure it was clear you show your utmost respect toward the kingdom’s potential princess. Chan still wore a sticky blush on his cheeks, and you could tell he would be about as useful in the kitchen that day as a rock.

“No matter what she requests, we shall honour her needs and prepare it.” Your mother said. “Remember, this could be Prince Seokmin’s wife.”

You felt a streak of envy and wanted to slap yourself. 

Once Lady Adelaide made up her mind, your mother re-entered the front shop with a wide smile. Chan started washing his hands in the pail of fresh water.

“Why was I not born the Prince?” He huffed petulantly. “She is truly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Does everyone in Markarth have such a face?”

“Oh, cool it, would you?” Came your sharp response. “Our duty is to operate a bakery, not fall in love.”

You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, and you tried desperately to bite your tongue as you fastened on your apron and pulled up the sleeves of your nightgown. The young apprentice wasn’t lying, she was a true and glorious spectacle, one that would surely appease the King and Queen once they saw her next to their son. However, you weren’t keen on entertaining such a sight, and you dismissed it from your head whilst Chan went to the house front and helped your mother collect Adelaide’s dessert.

A week after Lady Adelaide’s arrival at the kingdom, you happened to find your pocket-sized carving knife inside a bakery drawer. You were absolutely relieved to discover it, and took advantage of your mother’s recent departure to slide it back against the garter belt wrapped around your thigh. For the time being, she was occupied at a different village, visiting her sister.

Chan worked on kneading a mound of sourdough, his sleeves rolled high up to his elbows and a cloth tied around his head, pushing back his growing brown hair. You decided to take a break from the kitchen heat, patting him on his shoulder just before you disappeared.

“Huh?” He mumbled, not bothering to look up from the dough, “where will you be?”

“Peace River.” You told him. “I will be taking a short swim.”

The piece of beech wood was already slipped inside your sleeve. Ever since Seokmin gave you that silver, embroidered tin, you placed it on your bedside table and stored the wood inside. 

“Shall I fetch some extra help in the mean time?” Chan asked, lobbing the dough onto a wooden serving board.

“Sure. Why not ask your companion from the academy? Seungkwan is it?”

“Yes.” Chan nodded.

You picked your way through town until you arrived at the pathway that lead into the forest. The dirt was padded down by a century of footsteps, animal paws and wagon wheels, though the soft grass that grew next to it tickled up past your ankles and bloomed with small, purple flowers. You loved walking through the forest, hearing the noises of the village become increasingly muted, replaced by tree branches that gently rocked against each other in the breeze as well as the sweet songbirds.

Upon reaching the river, you sat down on a rock just in front of the grassy bank and pulled out your carving knife. The river created a bubbling waterfall, and whilst you took hold of the beech wood, deciding what to carve, you listened to the trickling sounds. Still unsure of what to scratch in the wood, you continued shaving down its edges until the piece lost its rectangular shape and became more oval. Once you were satisfied with its rounder appearance, you brushed the wispy flakes from your lap, deciding it was time to test the river.

You removed the layers of your dress until you were in nothing but your undergarments, the sunshine that rained between the leaves warm against your skin. After wrapping the beech wood into your clothing, you set the fabric behind a strawberry bush, though left your carving knife folded and sitting on the rock. The river water was cold, but not freezing, and for a few moments you stood knee deep with your eyes closed, allowing the quiet breeze and sunrays to mellow your heartbeat. Then you proceeded to wade in further, until the water lapped up against your chin.

As much as you longed to enjoy the cool river, there was one problem that arose after a few minutes of swimming. 

You heard distant galloping becoming closer and closer, accompanied by the rattling of metallic armour and conversation. Not wanting to make your presence known, you paddled beneath the overhanging rock that created the waterfall, the downpour completely soaking your hair whilst the heavy scent of moss stuck to the stone. You were curious as to who could be arriving at the river. Carefully, you peeked around corner of the overhang.

You felt your blood turn to ice.

It was Seokmin and Adelaide. Her arms were wrapped around the Prince’s waist as he held onto the reins of his beautiful, caramel horse named Apple. You remembered the mare’s name because you were the one who suggested it as kids. Seokmin shook the reins once more, and Apple walked closer to the river, already beginning to graze at the sweet grass lining the bank. Seokmin seemed to be educating Adelaide about the river, though you really had to strain to hear what he was saying. He hopped down cleanly from the horse before assisting the Lord’s lady.

She was no longer wearing her jade dress, but a white gown with many ruffles at the skirt. Her eyes were wide and sparkling whilst she examined the forest. Seokmin set a hand on her waist, gesturing to something in the trees you couldn’t see. The Prince was standing in a patch of sunlight just like he did on that summer day when you were children, waiting to kiss you—well, more like humiliate you, but his amber skin still shone the same, and the way the light reflected off his broad, silver armour depicted just how much he’d grown since then.

Closing your eyes, you listened intently for his words.

“Everyone who visits this river is known to experience a beautiful sense of peace, and calm, hence, why it is known as Peace River.”

Adelaide pressed a kiss to Seokmin’s jaw. “I have never seen such a tranquil sight. Oh, Prince Seokmin, it’s beautiful!”

Whilst Apple continued nipping at the grass, Adelaide squatted down next to the river and let the water gush between her fingers, covered in opal and amethyst rings. She was crooning about how pretty the gems looked beneath the current to Seokmin, though you noted the young Prince wasn’t exactly listening. Something caught his attention – your carving knife, which you left sitting on the goddamn rock. Gulping heavily, you watched as Seokmin picked up the blade and inspected it closely. Immediately, you swam away from the corner when he began squinting around the clearing, as though he were attempting to spot the knife’s owner.

The worst part: Seokmin knew who that carving knife belonged to. He knew it was yours, for he offered it to you, a gift from his blacksmith, a few days before the horrible kissing incident.

When you gathered the courage to peer around the corner again, you saw Seokmin help Lady Adelaide back onto Apple’s saddle. He still had your blade in his hand, to which you watched in complete shock as the Prince ordered his horse onward, deeper into the forest. You cursed him relentlessly under your breath. That bastard, he just took your carving knife! When you only discovered its whereabouts no less than half an hour ago! Boiling with fury, you left the river, threw on the clothes over your wet skin, and marched back into town with your beech wood.

The next time you saw the Prince, you weren’t going to let him off easy.

It was the night of the Super Moon Festival.

Raised high amongst the depths of the vast, black sky was the crater itself, bright, shining, and larger than ever. A chilly wind had turned the air quite nippy, and whilst Chan sat next to you, tentatively sipping a warm jar of gold, apple cider, you were simmering in complete bitterness. You had always embraced each festival, especially the Super Moon Festivals, which promised ample fortune unto the kingdom in addition to a prosperous summer; however, that night you couldn’t force even the slightest elation. 

Prince Seokmin still had your carving knife.

A great deal of folk had concentrated to the village square, where the celebration was most vibrant. Certain people had linked arms, dancing to the live music, whilst others were releasing paper lanterns of different colours and shapes into the night sky. There were plenty of drinking games, festive food, and buzzing conversations entangled throughout the square. You were shaking your leg, watching intensely as the Prince and his friends were gathered by an old wagon in the far corner, drinking tall tins of frothy ale, laughing loudly into the crisp, cool air.

Suddenly, Chan nudged your shoulder.

“Is everything alright?” He asked. “Why do you continue staring at the Prince?”

You peeled your gaze from Seokmin, though the contort of your features remained. Lady Adelaide was nowhere to be spotted. There were rumours that she would be arriving later, that the band would play a special slow song, just so she could share a dance with the Prince.

“I must speak with him.” You replied.

Chan wrapped his cold hands tighter around the apple cider, casting you a peculiar glance.

“Why is that? Has he done something?”

You knew you couldn’t wait forever. Seokmin’s tightknit ensemble didn’t look like it was going to thin anytime soon, and if you allowed the night to end, you would have missed your chance.

“Be right back.” You uttered sharply to the young apprentice as you rose from your chair, leaving Chan to sit alone with his drink.

He could only gaze after you in a thick confusion. It was definitely nerve-wracking to approach the Prince so boldly, especially when he was swathed by his closest friends, all whom lived inside the castle or carried high profiles in the upper scale village. You almost walked straight through a dancing couple on your march across the large square, though you tried not to let any crumb of doubt or intimidation thwart you from retrieving your carving blade. Without a word, you shoved your way between the muscular bodies, ignoring their surprised scoffs.

Seokmin’s eyes were almost as wide as the moon when you stood before him. He stopped leaning against the wagon’s tall wheel and left his half-finished ale on the ledge.

“Return it to me.” You stated simply, holding out your palm.

“Who the hell is that?” One of his friends chided, clearly not amused that you just pushed through their private celebration only to speak rudely at the Prince.

Seokmin’s brow furrowed. “Return what?” He responded. 

His acting utterly irritated you.

“Do not behave so obliviously,” you barked, “come with me, now.”

Wrapping your fingers through the collar of his shirt, you attempted to pull Seokmin away from his companions. Understandably, they were not willing to lose their royal member so easily, which prompted Jeonghan to grab your arm. It came as a slight surprise to you when Seokmin snapped, “do not touch her,” causing him to withdraw his grip, his expression paling. The Prince ensured his companions that he would return soon, only to follow you down a quiet alley, away from the colourful celebration and boasting music.

Folding your arms over your chest, you glared at the boy.

“I want my knife returned.”

Straightening out his collar that you had noticeably crumbled, the Prince scoffed, a smirk trudging across mouth.

“You should not leave any personal property out where it could be discovered.” 

“You knew it was mine and yet you still took it.”

“So you were watching me, is that it?” He had the audacity to smile.

In order to contain your fulgurant anger, you clenched your fists tightly at your sides.

“Indeed I watched you take it! Now give it back!”

“Do not get so ahead of yourself.” Seokmin flashed a devious smile, one you wanted to wipe clean from his snide expression.

He reached into his pocket, and beneath the frosted moonlight, you saw him reveal your precious carving knife. You traced his fingers as he unfolded the silver blade and admired the mahogany handle, etched with the smallest, intricate embellishment. If you were swift enough, you could snatch the knife from his hand, but you weren’t sure if the risk was calculated. The Prince gently pressed the pad of his finger to the point, hardly issuing any pressure.

“This did not always belong to you.” He stated simply.

“I know that,” you quipped, “but you decided to gift it to me. So it no longer falls under your property.”

Seokmin blatantly ignored your rebuttal. Instead, he folded up the blade and dared pocket it right before your eyes. You gaped at him.

“Why were you at Peace River?”

“What?!” Feeling completely bewildered, you couldn’t help the loud air of your gasp.

He asked again, “why were you at Peace River? Were you hiding somewhere?”

“That is not your business!” You barked.

Seokmin seemed to adapt your hue of disproportionate awe. 

“It is not my business?” He took a step forward, though you didn’t shy from his advance. “I am your Prince. You shall answer what I ask of you.”

“Why do you care why I was there? Should you not focus on the wonderful time you had showing around your dear lady?”

The young Prince’s face didn’t exactly soften upon your reference to Adelaide, rather there was a subtle shift in the nuance of his gaze, where something murky tinted the surface. It was difficult to pinpoint, but you almost swore that mentioning Adelaide had made Seokmin unhappy. To make the matter more confusing, he was clearly examining your features, from the curve of your lips to the arch above each cheek, you were like a memory he could never lose.

Your heart started beating faster, and you felt dearly flustered.

“I-I was only swimming,” you answered him, “that’s all you must know.”

You hated your body for betraying you, for submitting, for twirling itself in a moonstruck loop at the mere thought of Seokmin needing to commit your face to memory. Wanting to feel angry again, you tightened your voice.

“Now, I answered your question. I have pulled you away for one thing and one thing only: my knife. I do not care that your blacksmith crafted it for you, that it was once yours before it was mine. You gave it to me. I want it back.”

“Mind your manners,” the Prince scolded, his eyes turning icy, less forgiving, “I cannot oblige when you create such a fuss.”

Digging your nails in deep to the fabric of your dress, you exhaled shakily.

”I am going to lose my temper, Prince Seokmin. I want my blade, now.”

He took a step toward you, so close you could smell the rich ale on his clothing. His voice had lowered an octave, to which you swallowed coarsely and had trouble locking eyes with him.

“First, you rudely interrupt my friends and I. Second, you speak to me informally, with no respect, not even bothered to fake it. Third, you drag me to this alley and refuse the command of your Prince to summon an ounce of manner. Clean your mouth, or forget the knife.”

Your jaw clenched, and you started to grit your teeth. Seokmin was not exactly fond of the fact that you wouldn’t make eye contact, therefore he placed a light hold on your chin with his index finger and thumb, tilting your head toward him.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” He growled.

A concerning heat infiltrated your body; however, gulping back the rage that burned against your throat, you pulled down his hand, looked straight into his eyes and hissed, “you do not deserve my manners, but for the sake of the situation, may I please have my knife returned, Prince Seokmin?”

He reached into his pocket.

“I am shocked someone so ill-mannered is permitted to live in this kingdom.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watched the boy reveal your carving knife.

“I could effortlessly say the same for you.”

Seokmin handed you the blade, studying you intently whilst you picked up the side of your dress in order to return your prized possession between the thigh garter. Even in the darkness, his cheeks had noticeably pinkened. 

“Enjoy the remainder of your night.” You gave him an exaggerated, distasteful bow before walking down the alley, away from the village square. “Do not keep Lady Adelaide waiting.”

The young Prince didn’t bother responding, only chewed into his bottom lip as you disappeared from his sight, his heart beating uncharacteristically fast.

Somehow, you and Chan had ended up back in the royal kitchen.

It was in light of a specific request pitted by the King and Queen, in which they desired you to cook a delicious dinner for Prince Seokmin and Lady Adelaide as they enjoyed their umpteenth date together. You attempted to avoid the situation last minute by faking a dry cough and sore throat, though your mother was far too intelligent to let any elementary performances fool her, resulting in yet another attendance award at the castle. Chan was excited as usual, evident in the small curl to his lips whilst he cleaned his hands in a bucket of well water.

“I never understand you,” Chan said, “why are you never content to visit the castle?”

Tying an apron at your lower back, you simply huffed in response to the young apprentice, not willing to reiterate the whole spiel about your childhood mishap as well as the years of hatred that nurtured it. You knew you seemed ungrateful, stuck-up, but it wasn’t anyone’s business.

“It is not something to concern yourself with,” you told Chan, taking his place at the bucket of cold water, “I am going to cook their meal, and that is all. No more, no less.”

“When do you think we will receive their menu?” Chan asked.

“Whenever it is given to us.”

The royal kitchen was indubitably stocked with produce that could cater to any dish, it was just a matter of awaiting the particular meals Lady Adelaide and Seokmin were keen on eating. Still, you had to agree with Chan, there was an anxious density to the room whilst you prepared your stations, hoping that at least some form of authority would enter the kitchen to update you.

Chan opened a cupboard and found a burlap sack of cherries. He grinned, “do you think Prince Seokmin will want to eat cherry pie again?”

“Beats me,” you shrugged, “maybe he’ll desire a pineapple upside down cake.”

“That sounds complicated.” Chan admitted with a frown.

You chuckled, “he’s complicated.”

“Who’s complicated?”

Suddenly, the Prince appeared in the entryway to the kitchen, dressed in a long, garnet cape that draped around his shoulders, embroidered with a dazzling gold thread. His hair, usually left in its black ringlets, had been groomed neatly from his forehead. His crown looked heavy, precious and incomprehensibly expensive. Both you and Chan were stunned by his abrupt appearance, to which the apprentice dropped a pile of tins he’d been removing from a cupboard. They clattered across the stone floor, and his cheeks turned red.

Whilst the young boy quickly picked up each tin, you cleared your throat.

“N-No one. We were speaking about no one.”

Chan hurried to stand beside you, and he bowed immediately.

“Greetings, Prince Seokmin. Must I say it is a complete honour to cook for you and Lady Adelaide tonight. I shall put forth my best effort.”

“I am pleased to hear that,” Seokmin said, commending the boy’s display of respect, “I have arrived to deliver the menu Lady Adelaide and I would like to eat.”

The Prince then handed Chan a scroll, which had been tied shut with a tasseled, red string. As Chan busied himself in opening the paper to glean its request, Seokmin glanced you over from top to bottom. You shot him a transient glare.

Folding your arms over your chest and titling your head to the side, you announced, “we will bring your food as soon as possible.”

“Is everything well with you?” Seokmin inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Chan looked up from the unwound scroll nervously, clearly noting the palpable tension.

“Yes, Prince Seokmin. I feel brilliant.” Your tone was drier than chalk.

Some twisted part of you hoped that the Prince would pull you into the corridor, scold you for behaving so blatantly disrespectful, lean in close to your face with a fire that turned to glistering copper in his eyes. You wanted him to grip your chin like he did in the alleyway and demand you meet his gaze. In a bizarre sense, you craved to argue with him. However, Seokmin didn’t engage in anything of the sort, and a vacant feeling encompassed you whole.

“I must return to Lady Adelaide. We will be seated on the outdoor terrace, second level.”

“Yes, of course,” Chan chirped, “I will bring your appetizer shortly.”

“May it also be known that the furnace next to you Chan has not been properly cleaned from a previous service. Do not try to light any fire, or the residue could burn you.”

Chan glanced at the stove warily whilst you released an impatient sigh.

“You should really get going, sire. It’s never polite to make your lady wait.”

The Prince chuckled, and a bold smirk illuminated his face.

“Have you ever been left to wait, darling?” He asked, biting his bottom lip.

After blowing a tuft of hair from your eyes, you folded your arms over your chest and caught the young Prince in a piercing stare.

“Why must you know? I don’t kiss and tell.”

Chan had not a clue as to what sort of exchange was unpacking before him, he only knew that his presence seemed unbelievably trivial, like a dust mite. You couldn’t deny how satisfactory it felt to wind Seokmin tighter than a wire spool, attempting to snap him somehow, hoping he’d bite back brazenly.

His professional composure was teetering, you could see it. And yet, the Prince was able to sweep away his desires to bicker with you. 

“Aren’t you such a well-behaved little girl?” He dug slyly, the backhanded compliment imbuing a strange rush in your blood. “I have no further business here. As I said, we are seated on the second level terrace.”

The second Seokmin parted, his beautiful cloak fluttering behind him, Chan nudged your shoulder with a big pout on his lips.

“Are you trying to get us banned from the castle? If so, you might just succeed.”

Stealing the scroll from his hands, you urged him to relax.

“Trust me,” you sighed, “I would get banned before any other soul here. Even before the cook who caused a fire hazard.”

You had great trouble focusing in the kitchen, and it seemed like your brain contained no interest in cooperating with the rest of your body. Chan noted your lack of composure and intervened on multiple occasions, a concerned expression covering his face.

It was stupid, shameful, but for an unbeknownst reason you could not stop envisioning Seokmin and Adelaide enjoying their supper together on the pretty terrace. You imagined his soft, attentive eyes tracing her lips whilst she spoke, his hand reaching across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear’s cusp, the evening sun dappling the sky golden and peach-rose. It lit a terrible feeling within your lower gut, a feeling that upset you beyond belief, made you want to run from the kitchen and bury yourself beneath mounds of bedsheets.

The thought of Seokmin marrying Adelaide, sliding that white diamond ring upon her finger, having to watch them parade around the kingdom completely and utterly in love; you hated it, and you kept losing your concentration as that bitterness consumed you.

“They seem to be enjoying everything.” Chan confirmed with a satisfied smile toward the end of service. He just returned after collecting their dishes. “At last, we can begin dessert!”

However, the boy quickly picked up on your temperate, distracted face.

“What’s the matter?” Chan grabbed your shoulder gently. “You look so upset.”

“I’m fine,” you dismissed him with an apathetic air, brushing his touch away, “will they be eating the cherry pie as you assumed? I have already prepared the crust.”

“Yes…” Chan leaned in rather close to examine your face whilst he hummed in response.

“For heaven’s sake, child—what are you doing?”

“S-Sorry,” he immediately backed away, “I-I thought—your eyes just looked so glassy.”

“I have already stated my wellbeing. Now, please get to making the filling so we may get this pie in the furnace.”

Chan grabbed the burlap sack of cherries from the cupboard and dumped them into an apple basket. He then submerged the basket in a water pail, making sure to clean the fruit until they were glistening and shiny. Together, you removed the cherry pits in order to create the sweet, sticky filling which smelled exactly like summer. Chan let you tend to setting the furnace flame whilst he leveled out the pies; however, you’d forgotten about the unusable furnace.

As you got down on your knee and reached into the underbelly of the oven with the starter flint, it was too late for Chan to make a reminder. Once the bright spark touched that mysterious residue, a gigantic flame bloomed forth and licked up the furnace walls. The second your hand felt such an incredible singe of heat, you released a loud cry and crawled away from the glowing oven, your chest heaving at the intense, searing pain that sizzled deep into your flesh. Chan was gobsmacked. He dropped the small butter knife in the pie filling and bent down whilst you tossed your head back, cursing at the pain.

“Oh God!” Chan looked paler than a snowflake. “Y-You have been burned! O-Oh no… this- this is awful! What should we do? H-Here—”

The boy helped you to your feet and brought you close to the water pail.

“Submerge your hand in this,” he offered anxiously, wiping away a bead of sweat from his forehead, “I need to alert someone of this. Are you okay? Do you believe you might faint?”

“N-No…” you gritted between your teeth whilst heavy tears streamed down your cheeks, “just get somebody – anybody. I-It hurts terribly…”

The boy rubbed your back as a sweet gesture before he left the kitchen. 

“I shall return as quickly as possible! I promise!”

Unfortunately, Chan had sparse luck encountering anyone from the castle. The sole person he could think of alerting was Prince Seokmin. Whilst he was not eager to interrupt his dinner with the kingdom’s potential princess, Chan was far too concerned with your agonizing pain as well as the poor condition of your hand. He knew you needed medical assistance immediately, therefore he burst through the doors in a panic and stumbled onto the terrace, where Prince Seokmin and Lady Adelaide gave him a puzzled, somewhat undesirable look.

The young apprentice steadied his breath. Once he began informing them of the situation, he couldn’t help but note the overwhelming concern that engulfed the Prince’s face.

“I must know where the nearest nurse is located. She needs assistance and I promised I would return quickly!”

Lady Adelaide wiped the corners of her mouth with a cloth, and looked to Seokmin. Her eyes, brushed with a shimmering, metallic gold, widened beneath the evening light as the Prince stood from his chair and threw down his cutlery.

“You have left her alone? Where is she?” He questioned the apprentice.

Chan licked his dry lips. “P-Please, stay with Lady Adelaide. I-I just need to know wh—”

“Does she remain in the kitchen?” Seokmin interrupted him.

He stepped fairly close to Chan, the young boy tilting his head back in order to meet the serious gaze of the Prince. Admittedly, he felt rather intimidated.

“Yes, she is. But you mustn’t abandon Lady Adelaide. I can—”

“I will take care of her,” Seokmin replied sternly, “stay with the Lady if you wish.”

Without another word, the Prince pushed Chan aside and disappeared quickly through the terrace doors, leaving him alone on the beautiful terrace with Adelaide. She didn’t appear entirely thrilled to be abandoned in the midst of a romantic dinner, indicated by the uncomfortable expression that coloured her face. Instead, she tucked the hair behind her ears and pressed her smooth lips together tightly, staring out into the flossy, pink clouds, a calm breeze blowing through the air. Chan swallowed the rock in his throat, squeezing his hands nervously.

“I-I’m sure the Prince will return in due time.” He stuttered.

Lady Adelaide nodded, stiffened, unamused.

“I guess I will just have to wait.”

Standing at the pail whilst your marred flesh scorched beneath the water was a sensation unlike any other. Your bottom lip kept quivering, and your whole body trembled in an attempt to digest such an intense pain. Footsteps reverberated outside the kitchen, to which a hope flourished that a medical professional would be arriving alongside Chan – yet, the person who entered the room was completely disproportionate to what you’d been expecting. It wasn’t that you didn’t want his help, it was just going to be difficult to accept it.

Seokmin left his crown behind on a countertop and stood next to you.

“Let me see it.” He urged as your hand twitched in the water.

Rubbing your tears off on your shoulder, you rasped, “w-why are you here?”

“Because you’re hurt,” Seokmin replied firmly, “and whether you like it or not, I am going to look after this. You should have your hand beneath running water.”

“W-Where is Chan? I w-want him here t-too.”

“He remained with Adelaide.” The Prince sounded impatient.

“W-Why did you not stay with her? Why did you even come when you cannot stand me?”

Choosing to ignore your questions, Seokmin grabbed your wrist, pulling you to the back of the kitchen where he knew there was a well. Suckling back the thick tears and runniness in your nose, you let Seokmin guide your injured hand beneath the cold water he started pumping from the ground. It splashed onto the stone floor, trickling in all directions.

“S-Seokmin—,”

“Just keep quiet for one minute,” the Prince snapped, “I know that is strenuous for someone as verbose as you, but right now, allow me to take care of you, alright?”

For an unprecedented time in your life, you legitimately heeded Seokmin’s words and kept your mouth shut, deciding it was not worth the energy to act so bitter. Whilst the running water succeeded in cleaning any sediment from the wound, the sensitive flesh stung and flared to a degree that was impossible to ignore, leaving you unable to suppress any small sobs and whimpers. If not for Seokmin holding your hand beneath the water, you would have withdrawn it immediately. 

You pushed your face into his chest, your tears wetting his clothing. Seokmin shushed you softly, attempting to keep you calm.

“I know it hurts, but you’re doing so well, okay? A minute longer darling, I promise.”

You felt Seokmin’s chin sit on top of your head, and you only pushed your cheek in further against his strong chest, smelling the faint concoction of a luxurious perfume on his amber skin. Somehow, the pain became more bearable when his honeyed voice touched your ears.

“H-Has it been a minute now?” You sniffled.

The cold stream of water that once gushed from the spout diminished. Whilst the floor was rippling with a wide, wet circle, your hand felt less seared, less like a piece of charred meat.

“Mmhm, it’s been a minute,” Seokmin said, “how badly does it still hurt?”

Glancing at the wound imbued an intense cloud of nausea.

“I-It’s throbbing, a-and stings. Should we not wrap it?” You blubbered.

Seokmin brushed his fingers along your warm cheek, removing the new tears.

“Not immediately, angel. If the flesh is too fragile, the cloth might pull up more layers of tissue when it is removed. There should be an ointment station, over here—,” the Prince placed his hand against the small of your back, and you followed him toward a counter, “if the correct gel is in here, my hope is that it soothes your skin. Afterward, we will wrap it cautiously.”

Your injured hand was shaking too much, so you had to grasp your wrist tightly in order to centre it to one place. Seokmin opened a drawer filled with small, glass ampules. He picked between them carefully until coming across the correct ointment, a clear gel that had a strong, plant-like scent when he pulled out the tiny cork. Smearing the glistening gel onto his fingertips, the Prince then asked to see your hand. Knowing it would sting, you clenched your teeth.

“I’m not being too rough, am I?” Seokmin asked, concentrating on softly massaging in the vital ointment.

Exhaling stiltedly, you shook your head. “It’s getting better, I believe.”

“This is quite deep,” he remarked, scooping up more of the gel, “why on earth did you use the furnace upon my instruction not to?”

“I was not thinking about the furnace.” You admitted, biting down into your cheek.

Seokmin couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He had just finished applying the cool gel, which gleamed on your skin and sunk into the damaged tissue. Additionally, stuffed somewhere in the drawer was a compact spool of bandage that the Prince started unraveling, until he tore a perfect strip to delicately wrap around your hand. Your heart began racing and heat stippled your face as the boy finally looked up from the injury. His eyes were so unbelievably gentle, his lips the colour of roses. It reflected a painstakingly familiar memory, in which you could almost hear the river running in the background and feel the pleasant sunlight warm your arms.

“Then what was on your mind?” Seokmin questioned.

His voice was low, and he stared unabashedly at your mouth.

You didn’t think – you didn’t want to. 

Instead, you pushed to the very back of your skull every malevolent thought you once harboured toward the Prince and shut your eyes, envisioning yourself within a dream. You pressed a short, soft kiss against his mouth.

There was a moment’s pause where Seokmin realized the situation.

Suddenly, he cupped the sides of your face in his tender hands, urging you forward again, his lips brushing yours in such a gentle manner that a shiver tingled down your spine. It was far from a single, fleeting kiss. Each time your lips pressed together, you would linger for a moment longer and fall deeper into the other, losing all sense of the world around you. A molten warmth expanded in your chest as you felt Seokmin’s tongue make a soft prod at your bottom lip, encouraging you to sigh blissfully into the kiss. He smiled at your quiet noises.

What was happening to you? You struggled to control your own functions. Seokmin was eliciting a powerful feeling that yearned for you to continue kissing. His slender fingers drifted from your face to your hips, and he pulled you tighter against his body, each kiss revealing the other’s burning want and secret desires. As you suckled slowly on Seokmin’s tongue, listening to him purr, there was a rich, unique taste of cider. It prompted you to think about dinner, about Chan who’d gone looking for a nurse, about Lady Adelaide. 

As soon as her face entered your mind, something switched off inside you and your blood transformed into cold liquid.

“S-Seokmin,” you murmured, disconnecting the sweet pressure of your mouth to his, “I-I... I don’t think we’re in our right minds.” 

Your eyes began filling with water whilst you gazed at his pink cheeks and the pretty swell to his lips. The boy grabbed both your hands with a concerned expression, holding them against his chest where you felt his heart beat.

“What do you mean, angel?” Seokmin whispered. He then planted a kiss much too affectionate against your forehead, in which your eyes only grew more watery. “I haven’t anything to drink if that’s what you’re implying.”

“N-No.” You shook your head and looked into his eyes, swallowing back the dreadful taste of pain, of a relationship you could never have, of a boy you could never have. “We cannot do this... t-this is not just...”

“Wait—” Seokmin stuttered when you pulled away from him, “where are you going? We can talk about this.” His voice trembled slightly, heavy with sorrow.

“Stay with me, please.” 

But there was nothing he could say or do that would cement you to your spot.

An overwhelming wave of emotion surged through your body, and you knew you had to leave the castle grounds unless you wanted the royal family to see you explode into a mess of hot tears and incoherency. Whilst you slipped through the kitchen door, you bumped into Chan who just returned from the second level terrace, his eyes growing wide when he noted the dreadful shadow that hollowed your countenance. The boy swallowed thickly, for the next person to enter the hallway was Lady Adelaide herself, who did not look pleased at the wait.

“A-Are you o—”

“I cannot stay here,” you told Chan in a quick jumble, “I am going to the house. Please, take care of the dessert if you can manage.”

Lady Adelaide stepped aside, allowing you to escape the corridor.

Everything felt like it was collapsing around you.

It was nighttime as you sat in your bed, a candle flickering on the windowsill whilst you examined the neat bandages that enveloped your hand. You couldn’t sleep. Chan was sent home early from the castle by Prince Seokmin, and he attempted to check on you with plentiful knocks to the front door; however, you didn’t possess the right spirit to answer him and instead covered your teary face with the bedsheets until he left. You were infuriated at yourself for kissing the Prince. Inside, your heart felt mercilessly torn up and shredded.

Continuing to look out the window, you were intrigued by a fluttering, orange orb that eventually paused on the leaves of a tall sunflower. It was a firefly.

Quickly, you reached for the silver Danish tin on your bedside table and pulled out the carving knife in addition to the small, smooth disc of beech wood. It was difficult to make incisions in the wood with an injured hand, though you simply bit your lip and didn’t allow the pain to phase you. Making tiny scratches with the fine, sharp tip of the blade, you spent the next hour, maybe more, carving a tiny firefly into the beech wood. When you looked back into your drawer, you spotted a silver-beaded chain, and an idea instantly shaped in your head.

You decided to make the wooden emblem into a necklace.

From the kitchen, you could hear Chan speaking with a new ensemble of customers who entered the bakery, the sound of their abundant coins rattling across the countertop and the apprentice’s cheerful tone as he wrapped their food in wax parchment. You hadn’t spent much time behind the counter that day, for your mood was no better than a cat who’d just been stuck in a thunderstorm. Chan advised you to stay in the kitchen instead. Since that morning, you’d either been making loaves of banana bread or staring into space.

There seemed to be an unsettled atmosphere about the kingdom. Most if not always, it indicated there was a problem at the castle, some sort of dispute amongst the royal family.

Whilst you waited for the loaves in the furnace to rise, you put your head down on the work bench and gazed at the stone floor. You had never felt so off-kilter. The fact you couldn’t do much more than mush bananas and whisk together a batter only added to your melancholy. After burning your hand, you were rather useless in the kitchen, though Chan had a much politer way of wording it whenever you attempted to help him with anything the least bit complex. You wouldn’t be surprised if he replaced you with Seungkwan in the near future.

Once the aromatic, sweet scent of the banana bread thoroughly encompassed the kitchen, you checked on the tin and decided it was time to remove it. Letting the bread sit next to an open window, you heard more muffled conversation through the door.

Suddenly, Chan had slipped into the kitchen. His expression was awfully nervous, to which an unpleasant feeling began brewing your lower gut.

“Your presence is needed at the counter.” Chan said flatly.

“Why is that?” You smiled. “I thought you preferred me locked up back here until closing.”

When the apprentice didn’t return your warmth, you knew there was something wrong.

“You are really needed at the counter.” He urged. “I will cut the bread, okay?”

“O-Okay…” You responded in a puzzled manner, allowing Chan to slip around you and grab a butter knife from the drawer.

Walking out from the kitchen was equivalent to getting a slap in the face, a splinter between your toes, a hard poke in the eye – basically anything undesirable constituted the situation you just introduced yourself to. Prince Seokmin stood on the opposite side of the counter. It appeared as though he recently returned from a valley trip with a congregation of other knights, for he was dressed in his heavyset armour and Apple was tied to a post outside shop.

Seokmin brushed his hair back and smiled at you.

“I know you are surprised to see me, but—,”

“No no no,” you shook your head and gripped the counter tightly, your legs feeling like thin jelly, “you cannot be here, y-you cannot—”

“I have to speak with you.” Seokmin said.

Your eyes flitted toward a metal bucket sitting in the corner.

“Not right now,” you spluttered quickly, “I have to refill the water, for our kitchen.”

The Prince frowned. You were surprised he wasn’t swathed in his usual entourage, that his closest companion, Jeonghan, was nowhere to be seen. Whilst you scooped the bucket from the floor and rushed toward the bakery doorway, Seokmin knew you were only using it as an excuse to avoid him. What else could you do? Your heart was far too fragile.

“This is just as much an inconvenience to myself as well as you,” the Prince announced very staidly, “you know this conversation must happen. Why bother avoiding it?”

Seokmin followed you through the doorway, where Apple was grazing at a patch of honeysuckle in the grass. You refused to look back at him.

“Exactly! It is an inconvenience that can easily be avoided if you return to the castle.”

Marching behind the bakery, you threw the metal bucket on the ground and kicked it under the well, pumping it full of cold water. .

“I refuse to return. Not until we talk about what happened!”

“Maybe I do not want to entertain that idea!” You let go of the handle, instead whipping around, facing the persistent Prince. “It was a mistake! That’s it!”

Seokmin shook his head. “Why are you so hostile? Why can you never discuss anything without starting an argument?”

You didn’t bother suppressing your scoff. “Have you ever noticed the only person I treat with such hostility, is you? Has that ever crossed your mind, Prince Seokmin?”

“Of course I know!” He quipped whilst frustratedly dragging a hand through his curls. “It has always been that way! That is why I always have to scorn you, since you behave so bitterly!”

“There is no one but yourself to blame.” You hissed, sensing the water prickle at your eyes.

The Prince looked stunned, for his mouth dropped open. “You still hold onto that memory so vehemently?”

At even the slightest reference to that humiliating, summer day forever engrained in your past, the heat flooded your eyes and you were completely helpless to stop the first tear from rolling down your cheek. There was no doubt, since that incident your hatred for Seokmin had completely blossomed, and in response to your poorly controlled anger, the Prince was left no choice but to respond with just as much belligerence. The ground between you grew terribly thick brambles and spikes, until it was impossible to even be in the same space without getting hurt.

Yet, if your hatred was exactly what you claimed it was, then your kiss with Seokmin should have never happened. Hatred was merely a dark, sinister form of passion, and no matter what circumstance, passion always lived inside your heart.

Wiping the tears away with the sleeve of your dress, you shook your head. “You humiliated me in front of half the royal’s children! How could I ever dismiss that?”

The Prince furrowed his brow. “That was ages ago. We were exactly that: children. Children can be stupid and say stupid and do stupid things!”

“I just don’t understand why you pretended for so long,” you whimpered to Seokmin, tightly clenching your fists, “if you never even liked me from the start…”

“I-I wasn’t pretending… I just couldn’t… I-I…” The Prince struggled to elaborate.

Suddenly, he could no longer look you in the eye, and a raspberry tint flooded his cheeks. You gulped, a dizzying sensation infiltrating your head as you willed your heart to stop beating so vivaciously. 

Seokmin took a step closer toward you, an anxious colour to his face.

“If you just let me explain what I came here to tell you,” he murmured, “then perhaps we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats so adamantly.”

You folded your arms over your chest and pressed your lips shut. The silence was daunting, but at the same time you realized the bickering would lead to endless circles.

The Prince summoned a breath of courage and met your wet stare.

“I refused the marriage to Lady Adelaide. She will return to Markarth before the sunset. I only told my mother and father this morning.”

Slowly uncrossing your arms, you blinked at Seokmin in complete shock.

“S-Seriously?” You stammered, sweat tainting your palms.

“I had to,” Seokmin sighed, his eyes trailing the grass, “because of what happened with u—”

“I did not ask you to refuse her as a bride!” You hiccupped, salt glimmering at your tear ducts. To be the reason the kingdom’s next marriage crumpled apart, you couldn’t bear it.

“I know you didn’t!” The Prince retaliated, his voice booming. “Do you not think I am already aware of the great misfortune and trouble my decision brings to our kingdom? I did not refuse Lady Adelaide because we kissed – I refused the marriage because I do not love her, and it would be an utter disservice to both of us if we cannot reciprocate our own hearts.”

You bit down strictly on your bottom lip. It absolutely boggled your mind that Seokmin felt no love toward Lady Adelaide, when everyone who saw her fell head over heels. Whether it was her beauty, wealth, or the perfect sweetness of her character, everyone in the kingdom had something positive to say in regards to their potential princess. Maybe you had not gelled with her in the same manner as everyone else, but you knew this marriage had been anticipated since the day Seokmin was born, and the fact such a monumental celebration would have to be pushed back created a recipe for tension.

The Prince set his hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly.

“That is what I had to tell you,” he spoke in a much gentler tone, “it was not my intention to anger you, or make you this upset. But I have to remain honest with myself…”

“W-What are you saying?” Sounded your trembling, unsteady breath.

The sunlight splashed into Seokmin’s eyes, igniting them in a blazing copper. You felt swelteringly hot as the boy brushed against your cheek with his fingers before he leaned in close to your face, still damp with tears. You couldn’t concentrate on anything apart from the low velvet of his voice and how sincerely he admired you.

“I’m saying that I’m in love with you.”

Just before you entered the cool balm of the river, you spent a few moments stroking Apple’s caramel mane and picking berries from the nearest thicket to feed her. For such a strong, firmly-built horse, she was delicate in nature, just as you remembered her from your childhood. You ran your palm along the coarse side of Apple’s fur, scratching lightly so her ears would twitch, before hearing Prince Seokmin lilt your name. When you looked to the river, you saw him grinning at you, his black hair soaking wet and pushed back from his forehead.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to stand there for an eternity?”

“No,” you replied, “I was just looking after your horse.”

“Trust me, Apple gets pampered more than I do.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed the pale lilac hem of your dress, peeling the material over your head and letting it fall into a ball on the grass. In nothing but your undergarments, Seokmin gazed at you fondly, watching how you carefully waded deeper and deeper into the river until your toes could hardly scrape the smooth pebbles. Afternoon sunlight spun between the canopy of leaves overhead, which dappled the calm peaks in the water, making them sparkle. Seokmin swam closer to you. He was truly breathtaking as the rays caressed his amber skin and danced in his eyes like a honey fire.

The boy’s fingers brushed your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist and drape your arms over his wide shoulders. He held you tightly, his lips forming a lovestruck smile.

“Will your anxious mother not worry as to why her son has been out for so long?” You couldn’t help but tease him.

“I told her I would not be back for supper. At worst, she’ll send Jeonghan as my scout.”

“Do you think he could keep his mouth shut if he saw us together?”

Seokmin titled his head back with laughter, and you could see his perfect rows of teeth. “I have little certainty,” he admitted, “but Jeonghan would keep a secret if I forced him to.”

“That is reassuring to hear.” You replied with a smirk.

It was best to give the kingdom ample time to recover after the displeasing news of Seokmin’s cancelled marriage with Adelaide rapidly spread. She was supposed to be his first choice, his destiny as the King and Queen preached with every ounce of their souls. Furthermore, the royal family would definitely not be mirthful to discover that Seokmin had rejected Adelaide because his heart beat for a childhood crush from the lower village. That was unheard of, unfathomable, and rather unorthodox, which caused you and Seokmin to keep your relationship a secret.

At times there was pressure, there was great difficulty and frustration, but neither you or him could keep away from each other. You didn’t have to be married, or live in his sumptuous castle where everything was either expensive silk or encrusted with some sort of precious gem. It was quite simple: you just wanted to be with him – the environment wasn’t important. When you began seeing each other, you realized that on the summer day of your childhood where the Prince had humiliated you was a shtick orchestrated by his friends.

In actuality, Seokmin always had a crush on you, though at the time, the tender strings of his heart were easily pulled by them, and what could have been the start of a relationship ended up in years of bickering, unnecessary hatred, and repressed emotion. Cupping a hand against Seokmin’s damp cheek, you leaned in to kiss him softly. You smiled against his mouth upon feeling his hands squeeze your thighs.

“Can I give you something?” You then asked in a quiet voice.

The Prince nodded, allowing your feet to touch the pebbles again. 

“Of course, angel.” He complied.

Together, you left the river. Whilst Seokmin started petting Apple’s shimmering coat, you picked up the dress on the forest floor and reached into one of its pockets, brushing the beaded chain with your fingers. When Seokmin turned around and saw you holding a necklace, his eyes lit up in a marvelous fashion and an endearing smile beamed from one corner of his mouth to the other. It was the beech wood necklace, in which you had carved a small firefly in order to complete the pendant.

“I carved this from a piece of wood I discovered outside your castle, on the day Chan and I had to cook for the pages. At first, I had no idea what to make of it, but then I decided on a firefly.”

Seokmin admired the pendant up close. It felt wonderful to see him examining it with such an appreciative light in his gaze. The Prince connected the chain around his neck, to which the wooden oval sat between his prominent collarbone.

“I-I thought I should gift it to you. And, whenever we must be apart, you can just think of this necklace, and the comfort that comes from a firefly’s glow.”

Suddenly, the boy’s hands were atop your hips. He pulled you in close against his body, still gleaming with water droplets, and pressed a deep kiss to your lips. You could sense just how much ardour and warmth was laced into the contact, and a dense heat scattered beneath your cheeks. He tasted like the sugar powder and strawberries you ate before visiting the river.

“It’s beautiful.” Seokmin whispered.

He pecked your mouth again sweetly whilst you felt a gentle breeze blow throughout the forest, causing the tiny hairs on your damp skin to stand sharp. You cozied yourself closer into Seokmin’s chest, smiling like a foolish romantic at his words.

“Thank you, my love. I will hold onto it forever.”

✧✎ a/n: okay when i started writing this i THOUGHT it was going to be so short, like at most 4-6k, but then i was at the 6k mark, only halfway done, and i realized it was going to be another ‘wish’ situation lol. i’ve never written a royalty!au before so i felt like i was reaching into the dark a little bit jsefhwef but i hope it was still pleasant! as always i treasure all ur guys feedback so pls don’t hesitate to leave ur th0ts!! i haven’t written for seok in ages and it felt super nice to give him a lengthy fic! contrary to nobody’s belief - this was not inspired by owl city lol.

[gaundyfied]

(Also posted on fanfiction.net)

AU! Picking up a human stray never crossed her mind. Or an attempt at an au where Kagura is the Kaguya-hime, an infamous on-call assassin of the Kaientai and she meets a newly orphaned and younger Okita Sougo.

(Sougo and his sister never met the Shinsengumi.)

Disclaimer: I've never wanted to be the gorilla but I root for Okikagu and Gintsu.

Beware of the grammar and inconsistency teehee~

I.

Staying in Kabuki-chou has never been part of her plans, but it was raining outside, the announcer mentioned that it will last for the whole night because of a typhoon and if it didn't bother Kagura that Abuto would give her an earful later, she'll probably shrug it off. It's not as if she didn't enjoy staying on her favorite district, once in a while. But she doesn't have any place to stay, with Kamui cutting her budget and she couldn't risk encountering any humans on that particular night.

In her defense, she's been ready in case she'll be stranded somewhere. It was a good thing she bought a packed lunch worth a ten people in a nearby convenience store before going to the mission. The rain started to get stronger, though, and she's not on the right form tonight.

She has her sensei's old, dusty hideout in the second floor of a cabaret bar but it was too far; her wound threatens to open again and the only place she could get into was a shrine. What a luck. Heaving slightly, she limped towards the stairs, umbrella tightly grasped in her right hand as she tried to grit her teeth from pain. Her wounds are healing slowly and it was unusual. They probably used some of that poisonous weapons they got from the Kaientai. Those bastards.

She observed the surroundings as she reached the site. It was a shady place; an abandoned shrine settling near Oedo Park. She was sure she has never seen this before but she has no choice. She could hear Gin-chan whining how scary the place was but he wasn't here and he will never be. Thunder clapped from the sky, signaling that it was not safe outside. If only she didn't accepted that fucking assignment.

He was testing her, that one-eyed bastard. It was not enough that her brother vouched for her, he had to make her suffer too, just so he could be assured that she broke her ties with her perm-haired of a teacher. He's being paranoid and he should be. As if Gin-chan can be defeated by the likes of him. Not that it matters because the idiot was nowhere to be found and the only contact she has in this place was the courtesan of death living in the Yoshiwara. The Shimuras are in hiding and it was best not to know where they are. They'll be in danger if she knows.

Her mission was simple; infiltrate the bakufu building in Edo and search for Kihetai's mole being held on the upper part of the building. She passed albeit almost dying after being sliced in the abdomen by one of the samurais she met before she and the mole escaped. They parted ways, the said mole saying that he could distract the rest of the group. They'll meet at the terminal the next day.

If it weren't for the baldy and Kamui, she would never join Takasugi. Her father is missing, just like the shiroyasha while Kamui is unstable; only Nobume could control him as of the moment and she's in a mission too. He's using her brother as a leverage to leash her. To bind her entire being to him.

She reached the shrine, didn't even bother to take off her boots. Anego would probably scold her for being impolite but no one's here. Gently, she reached for her goggles, letting it stay on her neck before taking off her cape. The shrine was dark so she searched for some matches or lighter to make light. She copped a feel to the paper walls, expecting to be lead to whatever place that could have a source of light.

The rain continued to pour as she went inside a room that could be a kitchen. Trying as she might, she rummaged the cabinets when she heard a rustling in her back. Thinking that it was one of the guards earlier, she turned around only to see a guy, most likely a boy not far from her age. In his hands was a lamp, which she was thankful for, and a gun shakingly pointed at her.

She observed him or an effort to observe him in this unlit space. His face full of bruises and his left eye swollen. He looks like a street rat. "Oi, kids should be inside their home by now, you know."

He didn't answered her and instead cocked the gun. "You. What are you doing here?"

She wanted to laugh. What happened to Edo after she left she didn't know. All she could see though was a child holding a gun with so much fear and it made her uncomfortable.

"Hey. I asked you a question."

"I asked you first but you didn't answer. Put that down, brat."

He wasn't convinced, as he should be. Sighing, she raised her hands to admit surrender before talking to him again. "Look, I got food here, you got a light. We've both got nothing to stay so maybe we could trade?"

The boy continued to observed her before lowering down his weapon. Apparently, his hunger had won his internal battle between his self. That made her relieved. At least she dodge a bullet on that one. Literally. This was going to be a long night, she thinks.

II.

His name was of no important, he said, but she convinced him to at least tell her his family name. She learned that it was Okita after he glared at her but she preferred to call him chibi, which intensified the glare. His eyes reminded her so much of the silver haired samurai she has always followed. They reek of something that has been kept at bay, waiting to be freed.

"What about you?" He ended the silence.

Taking off the plastic in her cold dinner, she replied absentmindedly. "What about me?"

"Your name, China-bitch."

"You--" she sighed, not really interested to retaliate.".. just call me whatever you want, chibi."

It didn't surprise her that he wanted to know too. He's a curious one, that brat. Telling him her name is kind of a taboo to her. She hears anego shouting that abominable name as she remembers what entailed that morning. She couldn't tell the illusions apart so she obliterated the thought of the very name. She hates it now.

Still, he kept on pestering her that night as she munch on her sukonbu, her stomach quite full. At first, she thought he'd be disgusted by her chosen snack after their cold meal but he sat still, unbothered by her eating. After he didn't get what he want, he sat with her on the porch. The rain continued its onslaught while they watch its performance.

"Kaguya. Like that princess from the moon."

She hears him scoff, her cape resting on his shoulder. "An idiot name for an idiot woman."

That was the first time she laughed for a while. Of course it's silly.

It was surreal for her. For all she knows, handling a child, albeit someone who's near her age but still a child nonetheless, was a very tiresome task. She saw Gin-chan as he tried to keep her from trouble while knowing that she was an enemy of his kind.

Kagura wasn't a saint, that she knew. A yato kills and slaughters and murders so nothing will remain in front of him.

Who knows what she could do with this child.

III.

"China! Can we not sleep on a Love Hotel? I swear bed bugs are biting me." His crimson eyes examined the buildings outside.

"Beggars can't be choosy, chibi. Just be thankful that we have somewhere to stay. Do you want to sleep on the shrine again, huh?"

That shut him up. The idiot gets too sensitive whenever she mentions her nickname for him. Well, he should be. After all of the trouble she went through just so he could join her on her mission, he should be thankful that he'll be treated with a luxurious lunch.

Right after that night when they met, she entrusted him with Tsukuyo. At least there, he'll be protected while she could be assured that he's being treated properly. He promised the hyakka that she'll visit regularly but the brat just glared at her and told her to get lost. After that, their only communication was letter sending as it was the safest option.

This month, she was given a low-ranked mission and on Earth, fortunately. She was to escort some important amanto and well, she was ahead of her schedule so she visited the chibi. He was growing on her, she swears.

"Oi, chibi," she started as they peacefully ate their food on a nearby maid cafe. "Is Tsukuyo-nee okay? No one's bothering her, right?"

Her eyes twitched as she watched him pour down a handful of tabasco on his omurice. "Yeah. She's letting me patrol the Yoshiwara and training me at the same time."

"That's great, I guess."

She smile sheepishly as silence began growing again. On the bright side, she noticed his growth spurt. He was getting taller and she couldn't help but be proud. When she left that night, his small form was engraved in her mind. He didn't sniffle but she knows he was sulking.

"Well, it took you a month to visit again. Why bother visiting?"

She almost choked at his question. He sure got a loose tongue. "Aren't you a cheeky one? What if I just want to bother you?"

"Bullshit. Cut the crap, will you? We both know I'm not your responsibility."

It kind of stings, hearing him say it. She knows he was his own being but she kept on tying bonds that didn't matter.

"Yeah. That's right. So you need to earn some money too so you could repay me. I've got a list, chibi."

He stared, like always. He kept on attacking and she kept on dodging. Why can't he go with her? Why does she visit him? Why can't she erase the connection. Why, indeed.

IV.

Sometimes, she dreams of Kabuki-chou with Gin-chan and Shinpachi. Her breakfast filled with rice and egg on top. Sadaharu, licking her face as they walk on the park without any worries. Their adventures in Yoshiwara as her guardian slash teacher visited his wife.

Next day, she'll be seeing the flames engulfing the Shimura dojo as Kamui slashed through the wooden barriers. Soyo, chained and without consciousness as Takasugi claimed his trophy. Her hands connecting with her brother as he smiled sadistically.

'Choose, sister.'

This evening, she dreamt of the chibi and his tobasco as they ate without any care in the world around them.

V.

"You shouldn't leave yet, Kagura."

"I can't, Tsukky. You'll be in danger, you know that."

"He's been sleepless, you know."

Me too, she answers in her mind as she rearranged her cape and goggles. It was hard leaving him. Letting him sleep on his own in Tsukuyo's extra futon without her in his embrace. She saw him pouted the other night as she explained her sudden mission. She remembered touching his growing hair as she murmured her apologies.

"Tell him I'll come back for his sister's anniversary." She said without turning back. While she could still leave without thinking that he's on his own again.

"Tell that in my face, China."

She couldn't help the smile forming on her face. "Yeah, I will."

VI.

She lost control of her body as she lay down on the bloody ground. There was red everywhere and her vision flickers every now and then. This was a suicide mission, she knew it from the start. Nobume warned her, Abuto even managed to hit her in the head just so she could understand the danger. But what could she do?

It was Shinpachi and Anego that are in danger and she couldn't betray them again. Not when her beloved sister carries that precious dark haired infant in her bossom. Not when she could do something this time.

She laughs at herself. She wanted to cry. Of course, she couldn't do it on her own. Who was she? She's just a product of a promise that is empty, a lonely rabbit searching where she would belong. Under the sky, she longed for her moon, awaiting the verdict of the gods above.

Kaguya-hime.

"Kaguya-hime, it's time to go back."

She could recognise that lazy drawl. His bokuto, touya-ko, tightly gripped by his hands. "Gin-chan, I'm no princess."

"Oh but you are. You're Gin-chan's lovely Kagura-chan. I'm sorry, I left you on your own. Daddy just have to do some unfinished business, you see."

"Silly, Gin-chan. You're not my dad."

He laughed and it really made her day. "Of course I am. So let me and your idiot guy do your job for you."

In the end, his ruby eyes and his sandy hair was the last thing she saw.

[girls-scenarios]

Mix Up My Heart

Idol: Doyeon (Weki Meki)

Prompt: could u do a Bartender!AU where Doyeon and the rest of Weki Meki go to a club and the reader starts pulling out tricks to impress her?

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I’m annoyed that we’re only getting a digital single when Weki Meki deserves so much more, but I’m so excited for Dazzle Dazzle. The dance looks so cool and unique, just like Weki Meki’s dances always are. Lets hope that Fantagio actually promotes them this time. Also, I used a lot of bartending terms in this since I work in a bar, so if you guys need any clarification, just let me know lol. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

♡ Tip Jar♡

Doyeon wasn't sure how she felt about clubs. It wasn’t like she didn’t like drinking or dancing or loud music. She loved to have fun and generally found the drunk antics of her friends entertaining. However, something about clubbing made it.... Different. Maybe it was that so many people were in one sweaty place, or that she was continuously having to shove people away to get her own personal space, or that everyone around her wanted to hook up with her. Or maybe it was the lights that gave her a headache and how hard it was to get a drink at the overcrowded bar. Whatever it was, it made her a little wary of clubbing, only agreeing for special occasions.

Suyeon’s birthday, unfortunately, counted as a special occasion. So Doyeon had no choice but to dress up in her best tight black leather pants and follow the girls to a club in the new downtown district.

“I heard the place has a brand new speaker system,” Yoojung said excitedly, somehow still looking tiny even in her clubbing clothes. Doyeon hoped she wouldn’t get trampled. Yoojung, though, didn’t seem to be so worried. “I’m super excited to hear it!”

“I’m excited because my favorite DJ is working there tonight,” Suyeon said, running a hand through her dark hair and grinning. This was totally her scene. “She makes the best remixes.”

“I just want to dance. I’ve been stressed lately and I need to let it all out,” Lua commented, stretching her arms above her head and grinning. Her new black hair was tied into a tight ponytail and she was wearing comfortable clothes for dancing. Her excitement made Doyeon smile a bit. At least she was going to have fun.

“I should have worn better shoes.”

“Elly, you always do this!” Yoojung laughed, and Doyeon decided that it was time to tune them out. She glanced at her watch as they rounded the corner leading to the club and sighed.

Only ten. It was going to be a long night.

-

Inside, some Justin Bieber remix was playing, the bass shaking the room with its intensity. Thankfully, since it was still early, it wasn’t overly crowded yet, and Doyeon spotted seats at the bar. A drink was just the thing she needed.

While the rest of the girls dispersed, Elly saying that she was going to grab a table somewhere and Lua heading straight for the small crowd of dancing people with Yoojung skipping behind her, Doyeon made her way to the bar. Suyeon followed her with a nervous Sei in tow, assuring the younger girl that she’d have fun. Doyeon couldn’t help but laugh and wonder if she was that nervous when she had her first clubbing experience.

“Let’s get some drinks,” she suggested as she grabbed a seat at the bar. “What do you like to drink, Sei?”

“Um, I don’t really know.”

Right. She wasn’t used to drinking yet. “We’ll find you something good,” she said, turning around just in time to see you walking over behind the bar. Her eyebrows raised. Compared to most of the people she found working in clubs, you were very attractive and seemed put together. Your smile wasn’t tight around the edges and it actually reached your eyes as you walked up and placed down the glass you’d been polishing.

“Hello, welcome in! What can I get started for you ladies?”

She liked your voice too. Well, at least she’d found something interesting. Smiling, she leaned forward. “We have an inexperienced drinker here. What would you recommend?”

“Depends. Do you like the taste of alcohol?” You turned your gaze towards Sei as Doyeon pointed at her, and she blushed.

“U-um, not really?”

“Then I’ll make you something sweet. It’s called a lavender lemonade. You can’t even taste the alcohol.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Joked Suyeon, making you laugh.

“A little bit. But as long as you pace yourself, you should be okay. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Soju,” Suyeon said simply, and you nodded, then turned your gaze to Doyeon, who gave you her most beautiful smile. With any luck, she’d made your heart skip a beat as she moved her long hair over her shoulder.

“Any cocktails you’d recommend?”

“Yes!” Your eyes had followed Doyeon’s hand over her shoulder, but now you snapped out of it, your smile back. There was a tinge of something else in your eyes, and she hoped it meant what she thought it meant. “Our blood orange margarita is pretty popular right now.”

“I’ll take one of those, then.”

“I can do that.” You moved away to begin the drinks, and Doyeon turned around to see her two friends grinning at her.

“What?”

Suyeon wiggled her eyebrows. “What was that, Doyeon? Were you flirting with the bartender?”

“Flutter your eyelashes a little more,” giggled Sei, and Doyeon felt her face flush a bit. Still, she held her chin high and shrugged.

“So what? Is flirting with the bartender a crime? They’re hot!”

“True,” Suyeon admitted, then quickly smoothed her face into a calm smile as you walked back up with her soju. Doyeon was amazed at how fast she changed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’ll get started on those cocktails now.”

Doyeon send the two girls at her side a look that meant “no talking while they’re here” before turning her attention back to you. You seemed to feel her eyes on you, because you smiled a little wider and raised your eyebrows, locking gazes with her.

“Are you interested in bartending?” You asked as you picked up a bottle of vodka and measured it with a jigger. She hummed and propped up her face with her hand, her elbow resting on the bar.

“I’m more interesting in the drinks,” she admitted with a little laugh. “Do you like being a bartender?”

“Oh for sure, I get to meet all sorts of,” you paused, looking up at her again. “Really great people.”

Sei giggled. Doyeon just hoped that you didn’t hear it. “I’m sure you do.” She watched you pick up a pour bottle and shake it vigorously before pouring it into the glass with flourish, making her laugh softly. Spurred on by her reaction, you picked up a lemon and a peeler and carefully bit quickly peeled off a strip of the lemon peel. Then you twisted it over the mix, turned it into a curl, and placed it carefully on top.

“One lavender lemonade,” you said, placing the glass onto the bar top. Sei’s eyes lit up as she picked it up and tasted it.

“Whoa, I can’t taste any alcohol at all!”

“Dangerous for sure,” Suyeon said with a laugh, and you laughed along as you pulled out another glass. Interested, Doyeon watched you pull out the tequila, a pour bottle of what seemed to be orange juice, and an array of other ingredients. After salting the rim and putting a block of ice inside, you placed the glass to the side and started filling the shaker. Once you had all of your ingredients inside, you put the top on and shook hard, making little circles with your hands and beaming when Doyeon smiled.

“You’re good at that,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes (she hoped her friends missed that) and leaning further onto the bar to watch your process closer.

“I’m glad you think so. It’s taken a lot of practice.” Once again, with flourish, you poured the mixture into the glass and garnished the top with a slice of blood orange on the rim and a piece of mint on the top. Then, you placed the drink on the bar and gave a bow, making the girls laugh.

“I didn’t know I got a show with my drinks tonight.” She took a sip of her drink and smiled. It was good. Playfully, she sent you a wink. “I would have brought my ones if someone had told me.”

This made you laugh and Suyeon snorted behind her, taking Sei’s arm. “It looks like Elly found a table. We should head over there.”

Doyeon looked at her friends and then back to you. There was a twinkle in your eye, a promise of attraction, and her stomach jumped in the most delightful way. For the first time, she was happy to be in a club. “Actually,” she said, “I think I’ll stay here tonight. Have fun, girls.”

Suyeon smirked and made a motion with her hands that Doyeon didn’t care to interpret before taking Sei’s arm again. “Well, have fun. We’ll be around if you need us.” As the two walked away, Sei frowned in confusion, apparently asking what Suyeon’s motion had meant. The older girl leaned in and whispered into her ear, and Sei let out an embarrassed squeak.

“They seem to be having fun,” you commented, and Doyeon rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to you.

“They always do. But enough about them. You haven’t told me your name yet.”

You grinned brightly, and Doyeon admired the way your face seemed to glow in the bright club lights. “I’m (Y/N),” you said, leaning across the bar. “Now it’s only fair that I get to know your name too.”

“I’m Doyeon,” she replied with a smile, taking a sip of her drink and enjoying the feeling of being the only one in your gaze. “And you have no idea how happy I am to meet you.”

[fyrapartnersearch]

SHAME SHAME SHAME

everybody's people watchin' everybody’s punch clockin’

hey how are ya my name is emmy and i’m here to search for a new rp partner. a bit about me, i’m 22, canadian, work two part time jobs and attend uni full time and i go by she/her pronouns. i reside in the mountain timezone and i am thrilled to hopefully start writing with you. 

why should you write with me? because i promise that if i pick up an rp with you i’m gonna put 100 and 10 percent of my effort into our story. i’m looking for a long term gig, someone who i can really weave a plot with, someone who digs the cut of my jib. i want us to be able to sob over our characters together late into the night. i want us to exchange songs, playlists, posts found on the internet, aesthetic boards, whatever reminds us of our characters/our plot.

i will probably spam you with pictures of my character’s playby and i want to see mad pics of yours, too. i want us to go through our character’s struggles together as well as be able to cheer together when our characters get a hold on their situation and come up on top. i want us to inspire one another with our writing. it’s gonna be great. you & me honey. 

right now I'm looking for 1-2 new rp partners who are interested in something long-term and fully fleshed out. think 'mains'. 

gee, that sounds nice! i’m inclined to agree! but a few things you should know before you go any further: i write anywhere between full lit to lit + to novella style, so expect posts of at least 4 - 6 paragraphs baseline. sometimes i crank out 10. or just 5. depends entirely on what’s going on. i write according to situation, with a great amount of detail spent on what my character is thinking/feeling in response to yours. the replies you get will be fully fleshed out & enthralling. i am a stickler for grammar and spelling, though nobody’s perfect, i do occasionally have my slipups. all lowercase text is strictly kept to ooc communication. i can be sporadic with capitalization ooc but still keep good spelling. i will never pressure you into posting or writing ridiculous amounts just to match my post. i want you to have fun too! if i’ve had a bit too much to drink or am about to hit the hay, i’ll wait to post until i can give my post my full attention. usually i’ll be able to post at least once every week, sometimes multiple times a week depending on work & schoolwork. i'm available for ooc chat almost all the time. i also totally understand life happens and sometimes we just need a breather. ♥ i have bipolar depression, and sometimes my depression kicks my ass, but i’ll let you know when that happens.

oh goodness, what else? i write predominantly m/m pairings but i am open to m/f and f/f as well. i do not write high fantasy settings, sorry doll. my interests mostly align with modern day, slice of life kinda stuff, aside from the fandoms i do have. i don’t have many limits besides excessive gore, scat, mpreg, and writing smut for sake of smut. i love my romance just like anyone else does, but it’s got to have plot. our characters have to have chemistry or else i get bored. i haven’t doubled before but i think i’d be down for it with the right plot. usually i prefer that we play one character each, or we play multiple characters within a plot, but not usually more than one plot at the same time. but!!! i am totally willing to try new things!! just be patient with me as i learn m'kay? i have had several threads going at once with one partner which can be super fun. also most of my characters are pretty kinky but like, i prefer that we talk about kinks and limits one on one as opposed to airing out my character’s laundry. also- i wanna be your friend ooc. let’s chat. i find it’s so much easier to have muse and post if i enjoy the virtual company of the people i’m writing with.

ok but what do you write? 

what *don’t* i write? kidding. here’s a bit of fandom for ya. if i’ve got plots listed, they’re the ideas i have, but i’m totally open to yours as well. stars denote how much i’m craving them. i’ll list the canon characters i write after i list the fandom: 

mafia 2: vito scaletta  ***plot for mafia 2 a: we explore the dynamics of a relationship between vito and your oc. your oc could be in a position of great risk- think outside of the mafia, possibly a police officer, prostitute. some position where power dynamics could be played with. if the pairing is m/m we also deal with the themes of internalized homophobia and coming to terms with one’s identity. 

*bioshock 1, 2 & infinite: brigid tenbenbaum, andrew ryan, frank frontaine & eleanor lamb, sofia lamb & booker dewitt 

**marvel cinematic universe: tony stark, steve rogers

***greater marvel universe: logan howlett, carol danvers  ****random plot: we do a crossover and we ship sharon carter/carol danvers. i just. uuugh i have a lot of feelings about them and i have hella muse for these babes. lemme know if you’re down to give this a shot i will love you forever no word of a lie. 

but honestly where my heart lies is within oc rp. here are a few plots i have of mine, stars denote how much i’m craving them:

****(m/m) power & politics: my oc is a prestigious state senator, who lives a double life. he is currently in the closet with no intent on leaving it anytime soon. however, a certain someone falls into his life, making him question what he thought he knew for certain. your oc breaks down the walls my oc has put up and changes him into a softer, better man. however, with an upcoming presidential campaign on the horizon for my oc, the limits of the secret relationship will be pushed and pulled beyond what both parties have ‘signed up for.‘

****(m/m) the guardian: your oc is a newcomer to the nhl but is quickly making waves- think connor mcdavid style. he’s young and impressive, but mostly, impressionable. he starts to get battered around by both his teammates and opposing teams. after a few hard hits and fowl play within the game that have cost your oc bench and recovery time, the team’s coach calls in reinforcements to boost the team’s morale and serve as a protector to your oc. my oc is a player who hasn’t got the talent part but has got a huge heart. not to mention… huge hands. good for makin’ fists. good for fightin’.  my oc protects your oc during the games, coming to your oc’s aid, picking fights for your oc and protecting him on the ice. as such, the two players grow attached to one another.. perhaps too attached for the captain to be comfortable with. possibilities for a love triangle and other complications, for sure

***(m/m) too good to be true: our ocs start out in the whl, both as promising wingers. their good chemistry is vital to bringing back their team’s success. however, one of our ocs starts to get too attached to the other, and when an nhl draft separates them, one of our ocs is all too eager to cut contact and try to forget. the two excel in their nhl careers without one another, and end up on nhl teams with a history of deep rivalry. occasionally, the gloves hit the ice, fueled by the tension of unresolved feelings and the pressure of the respective teams to keep up the rivalry. the two are reunited when they are both chosen to play nationally for the same team, and are forced to reconcile what they have both buried so deeply within them. 

***(m/m) big money: these two ocs play for rival teams in the nhl. while their teams have a history of tension, our two ocs take it to the next level. audiences are more excited to watch these two fight than they are to watch the game itself. there’s a market in the violence between these two, and a reputation to maintain on both ends. if the public found out that these two were secretly seeing one another, their careers would both be over. 

**** (m/m) sugar daddy: my oc is a law student studying in your oc's country in order to get their degree abroad. they're from eastern europe and uh. broke af. they settle into an arrangement with your oc where your oc agrees to ~pay him for his company after they meet while my oc does camming online to make ends meet. we could take it anywhere- your oc could whisk mine off his feet and 'save' him or. be toxic & trashy and make my oc's life hell.

okay and, here are just some general prompts that could be intertwined with the plots above, or could be something we use to springboard into our own rp:

my oc has serious commitment issues. they often go around ‘ghosting’ individuals after 4-5 dates, with little to no explanation of why. your oc falls for mine, and is the first to confront my oc about their shitty habits. 

your oc and my oc were best friends, but they lost touch over a stupid fight they had when they were preteens. they can’t believe that they’re seeing one another in a bar, halfway across the world from where they met. 

your oc and my oc were flames. my oc proposed to yours, but yours turned them down. they never spoke again… until they were sharing a crammed elevator, with my oc being completely intoxicated, and still confessing their feelings for your oc. 

your oc is a huge fan of my oc’s nhl career/political career. your oc wins a contest to meet and have dinner with my oc. while my oc expects a boring night out, my oc is completely surprised by how well they hit it off with your oc. 

my oc, your first oc and your second oc all grew up together. your first oc has always been pining for my oc’s attention, and is thrilled when my oc and your first oc finally get together. they develop a long term relationship, but my oc knows it would devastate your first oc if they told them that they have been seeing your second oc for most of the relationship. 

i recognize that a lot of these focus on the nhl/the lives of professional hockey players- please don’t be worried about hockey knowledge/nhl jargon/whatever else goes through your head! i’m more interested in sport as a realm for drama than i am for following the rulebook and being 100% accurate to life when it comes to hockey. there’s a lot i don’t know and am still needing to learn, myself! if you know a lot, great!! if you don’t, let’s figure things out together! as for general oc ideas, here’s a list:

professor x student

veteran x civillian

cop x criminal 

psychiatrist x patient

** OC superheroes (I have a lot of muse for this one!)

street racing, fast-and-furious-esque setting

rival gangs 

** nhl/hockey based (lol obviously)

small town canadiana or americana 

fun, fluffy romance based modern settings

darker themes such as addiction, abuse, etc - i find it cathartic sometimes to write about violent material buuuut this has to be really fleshed out between us

historical setting- preferably, the second world war/1940s-1960s 

light worldbuilding - new to this but wanting to learn

honestly whatever you can pitch to me that isn’t high fantasy :)

i can expand on and work with any of these ideas, these are just like, topics. whatever i do with you, i promise it’ll be fleshed out, with tons of opportunity for drama. 

hell yeah let’s do this pal 

if any, and i mean any, of this piqued your fancy, pleaaaase shoot me an email at 

↳ ehmmywrites@gmail.com ! 

i will respond! but please send me something thoughtful! i’d like to hear what part of my ad that you’re interested in/why you chose to contact me. i am most wanting to rp over email and talk over google hangouts but i can be open to skype, too.  i sure look forward to hearing from you!   ♥

emmy

[myficsknowwhatyoudidinthedark]

Maxx Danziger x Reader “Maxx Tries Something New”

Ok! Here we go. You can already tell by the title what this is based off of. At least I hope you do. If not, Go on youtube and type the name of this fic in to the search bar. Enjoy! (Feel free to change any of the names in my fics. I use them so I don’t have to constantly type Y/N)

(Lara’s POV)

     Maxx was currently setting up the camera for Set It Off’s newest youtube video. The fans never really got to properly see or hear from me so we figured we would throw me in this video. He finally sat on the edge of the bed and pats beside him. I scoot up and he begins to record.

     “What’s u-” Maxx began as he was cut off by me sneezing.

     “Oh. Bless you love” He says as he turn back to the camera as I laugh at his reaction.

     “What’s up you guys, So here’s the situation. I was a very, very picky eater growing up. And by that I mean I had like, Pizza, Hotdogs and that was it. I haven’t had like 99% of the food on planet earth. And by haven’t tried most food I mean like, I haven’t had strawberries, I haven’t had a kiwi, I’ve never had a pear before. Almost any vegetable on Earth.” Maxx says as he talks about how little food he eats.

     “On the plus side, He is extremely easy to buy food for. You want in to the store and then walk out of the store. That’s what food shopping for Maxx is like.” I say as I laugh and he turns and laughs and nods along. He knew that statement was extremely true.

     “True, True. So as i’m speaking to you right now, the rest of the guys are at a grocery store getting a ton of food, weird food probably, for me to try for the very first time. We figure it’s a new year, it’s 2017, year of new experiences, and because of that, i’m gonna try some food.” He says and then turns off the camera then turn to me.

     “Why am I letting them do this?” He asks. I just shrug and laugh at him. He then just leaned back on the bed and turned the television back on. He slowly made his lazy ass up to the pillows and laid back.I just laid next to him and he pulled me close so I was cuddled in to his side. Throughout the course of the wait my phone would occasionally go off with Cody texting me about how crazy they look with just one of everything they got and how Zach dumped most of the stand of pistachio's in the basket even though they aren’t buying them.

     I then texted Cody to pick up some cookies for Maxx, after he eats the food they got him and he obviously thought it was a good idea knowing Maxx’s love for chocolate chip cookies. The last text I got before they left the store was that they bought something that was so foreign that they couldn’t find the code for it. Maxx and I where still cuddling and Pistol had made her way on to the bed at some point as well. That’s when I hear the front door open. Maxx was too lost in the show to even hear it so I just stayed. I then hear profuse chopping and yelling which is quite obviously Cody cutting things. Oh boy, here we go.

     So eventually the guys make there way upstairs and tell us that they got the food. As we get up to go Zach proceeds to mention how he wishes he cause Maxx jerking off and they walked in on him. To which I reply.

     “ZACH! GET YOUR OWN MAN!” And everyone just busts out laughing. When we get to the kitchen they ask Maxx what he thinks they got. “Ok. So I assume you guys got some sort of fruit. Some sort of vegetable. Something fucking disgusting and yeah I think all the others are going to be fucking disgusting.” He says as Cody replies with, “Your honestly not far off at all.” and Maxx just smiles and goes “good,great” as they all laugh.

     “Ladies and Gentleman! Welcome to Maxx tries something new.” Cody says as I sit next to Maxx and he goes, “here we fucking go.” And we all just laugh.

      They all huddle and point to a plate and bring him a kiwi. “Ooooohhh, Your going to like this one babe.” I say and he just looks and goes, “So do I eat this slice or....” to which I must point to the slice of kiwi. He eats the kiwi and he just goes “Hmm, That’s pretty good. That’s not bad at all” He says and puts up the ok hand motion.

     They once again huddle around the counter and then bring another plate with a green pepper on it. Maxx’s immediate thought to it being “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” and we all can’t help but laugh. “I honestly can’t tell if that’s a vegetable or meat” and then picks it up and goes “it’s a pepper for sure.” and then continues to examine it.

     “BABE! Jesus Christ it’s a food not a fucking painting just eat it!” I yell and then he just stares at me with a fake shocked face and a smile and then bites into it. And according to Maxx the pepper “Tastes like water”. I just put my hand over my face as the guys laugh at him. “What is this?” He asks. Cody had to once again establish that “It’s a green bell pepper.” With Maxx immediately following with “It’s ehh”. I couldn’t help it. I just grab his head and press it againt my chest and he just lays there as I pet his head and laugh silently at him. “You heard it the verdict is ehh” Zach says as they all join in on the ehh part.

     Once again they huddle and all I could hear was “ I don’t even know what the fuck it is” from Zach. I lean over to Maxx and say “I don’t think your going to like this one babe.” I say as he turn and smiles at me. “Thanks for the warning baby girl” He replies as he kisses my cheek and the guys put it on the table. They all do a quick awww and then Dan puts a weird ass fruit and yells ‘OW’ repeatedly. 

     “That shit looks more like a weapon than i food” I say as I pick up my arm and make it look like i’m throwing something. Zach laughs along with the guys and goes “Your going to have to eat it with a spoon.” Once again, Maxx’s first reaction to it, is to compare it to a plumbus from Rick and Morty. And then says “I have no fucking idea what this is” As he waves his hands around with the fruit.

     “If you had to name this, what would you name it?” Cody asks. “Spiky no no plant” Is all Maxx says before Cody tells us that it is called a ‘Horned Melon’.

     Maxx digs right in causing it to make a nasty sound and all the guys to yell and laugh about the noise it made. After he tries it he claims that it’s like eating tadpoles and picks up the fruit and squeezes it making it seem like it’s talking and says “Im going to give this one a zero.” and everyone to laugh along. (Im so sorry im rambling. It is 6:15am and I am watching the video as we go. Im going to skip ahead a bit.)

     Within the next maybe 15 minutes of laughing and funny comments, Maxx had tried, Tuna or as he calls it “Cat food”, A pear, Which he liked but nicknamed it “the boogieman” from nightmare before christmas or an apple that just woke up one say and said “Whatever”, and Sour Kraut or “Onions that gave up” which he almost died from.

     Then Cody starts talking about how they kinda put him through hell and they knew he wasn’t going to like everything so they got something to as they said “Soften the blow”. And Cody turns to me and nods. They has told me where they put them through a text message so I just nod and Maxx looks kind of confused but excited. and goes “Is it more sour kraut?!” and they all joke about how it was more sour kraut. I get up and go to the fridge and get the cookies from the top which I had to get on my tippy-toes to get. 

     “So your lovely girlfriend suggested that we get you...” He starts as I turn around and he yells “OOOOOOHHHH SHIIITTTTTT! I have had those before.” and then goes for some cookies. “Do I get to keep the lovely lady as well?” He asks as I sit down next to him again and he puts his arm around me then pulls me to his lap. The guys just laugh and nod informing that he can indeed keep his girlfriend. And he then screams “BEST PRIZE EVERRRRRR!!!!” and then stack 2 chocolate chip cookies to make a cookie sandwich. He takes a bite throws it on the table and yells “100! ALL DAY BABY!” and throws his hands in the air. Then they did the whole outro thing.

     After they finished they talked for a few minutes and then me and Maxx head to our room by a well timed yawn on my part. Maxx then grabs me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder and begins to walk up the stairs as everybody yells a goodnight. Maxx throws me on the bed and then pushes my legs so that he can lay down. I just take off my pants leaving my in just a shirt and Maxx takes off his shirt and pants, as the man always has on skinny jeans and then gets under the covers and pulls me close. “Man, You really where the best prize today” He says as he wraps his arm around my waist and puts his head in to the crook of my neck and breathes in. 

     “Ehhh, I think the cookies where better.” I reply as I wrap my arms around him. (They are facing each other. Its kinda like a hug) “Yeah right. The difference between you and cookies are that they will eventually go bad. But you, you will always be perfect” He says as he then flips on to his back leaving me to lay on top of him.

     “You are so corny” I say as he just smirks and goes “Sorry, but i’ve never eaten corn. How corny can I be.” (I don’t know if he’s never had corn or nah) I just laugh and lay my head on his check. Little did we know, the guys where behind our door recording what we where saying and where going to edit that into the video.

     God. How could anybody not Love Maxx Danziger.

(Hope you guys liked it. I know I rambled and I’m so so sorry but I got distracted and before I knew it this was so long. But anyway I should probably get sleeping it’s almost 7am and I haven’t slept yet. Much Love Guys)

                                                                                        ~Astral

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Complementary (Collins x OC) Chapter 1: Recruitment

Summary: Genevieve Hastings is desperate to do more for her country. After hearing horror stories about the last war, she plans to do anything to end the current war as soon as possible - whatever the personal cost.

  Masterlist     Next Chapter

    She'd passed the interview with the recruitment officer, the medical examination with all the blood tests, the education tests, the physical training and Genevieve was discovered because a soldier thought it would be a great idea to knock down the cubicle door while she was sorting out her period. Now, she had to answer for her lies and inexcusable behaviour in reaction to her being exposed - physically and metaphorically.

   Swinging her legs in a stiff chair, Genevieve looked about the room with casual boredom. She may as well enjoy her surroundings if she was about to be put to the court martial for posing as a man. The office was covered in the patriotic signifiers of a man: Churchill bust, oak furniture, books in a glass case about previous wars, a pipe on the desk, the mounted head of a deer watching ominously over the room.

 The door opened and, out of instinct, Genevieve stood up with her hands behind her back. Clad in a long overcoat and clasping his peaked cap, Commander Clouston paced into his office and gestured for the soldier to take a seat. He laid his cap on the desk as he eased himself back into the chair.

   “So, Gene,” He said chirpily as he picked up his pipe from the desk, “Mind telling me your real name before we begin?”

   “Genevieve Hastings, sir,” The soldier responded.

   Commander Clouston nodded with his lips pouted in concentration as he crushed some tobacco, “Why are you here and not at home?”

   “I can help here better than I can in England. This is where the fight is.”

   “I’m sure you are,” Clouston assured, “But this is no place for a woman.”

   Genevieve frowned, “But it is the place for those boys you accepted. Not even eighteen, I’ll bet? Would you prefer me to be at home, sewing pillowcases for when this is over or here ensuring that it’s over faster?”

   “One person can’t make that much difference.”

   “Imagine thousands of people thinking that same thing and not bothering. Imagine what they could do if they did try.”

   A little put-off by the woman who was clearly more stubborn than him, Clouston switched his questioning methods, “Why didn’t they shave your hair off?”

   “I said it was long for religious reasons. They didn’t press any further.”

   Commander Clouston took a deep breath, questioning the entire Armed Forces – not for the first time.

 “Why did you throw a…” He swallowed, his hand pausing in his pocket as he fumbled with his words instead, “A… used… tampon at Officer Fox?”

   “He was peeping on me while I was on the loo.”

   “That doesn’t excuse you throwing it at him. And your impulsive choices blew your cover.”

   “Pretty sure it was blown anyway, sir. Besides, I thought maybe I could get away with saying I was treating a bullet wound.”

   “Do you think Fox would’ve believed that?”

   “Yes.”

   “Do you think others would’ve believed it?” Clouston struck a match.

   “Yes,” Genevieve repeated, holding back the rest of her comment on the inept intelligence test of the army.

   Clouston nodded, leaning back in his chair as he puffed his pipe, “Well, I think we’re done here.”

   Genevieve frowned again, her fate still unknown, “Am I going to be discharged?”

   “Of course not. Women are being trained the same as men now. We need everyone we’ve got, including you.” Clouston stopped to blow off some smoke like a chimney, “I’ve heard you’re a good shot.”

   Genevieve straightened up with a haughty tug on his standard issue jacket, “I’m a great shot.”  

     One year later

   Dunkirk was a shit show. Four hundred thousand British soldiers marooned in France with no sign of help coming and supplies slowly running out. If that wasn’t pressing enough, the Germans were pushing the literal boundaries of the French allies, closing in on them. Men were shooting themselves with their rifles or drowning themselves every day as hope slipped further from their grasp. The beach was a desert and it was drying up the optimism.

 Paranoia was trickling in to each soldier. It moved at different paces, sure, but still there, in the back of the mind. It gnawed at each person’s sanity with the German aircraft acting as a catalyst. One was currently circling the troops like a vulture. Genevieve was watching it from the pier with Commander Clouston.

   With no sign of the Air Force, Genevieve leant her rifle on the pier’s wooden barrier and knelt before it. Staring down the barrel, clenching then unclenching her fists, she held her nerve until the StuKa Ju flew back around, swinging ungracefully in the air with a long drone.

   Only slightly affected by the siren that shrilled at the beach below, she fired, reloaded and fired again. That time, she knew she’d hit it as a line of smoke marked the plane’s passage. Something as easily fixable as a bullet hole in the left wing caused the aircraft to retreat; it flew back behind enemy lines.

 Genevieve pulled away. That was the first aircraft she’d hit today which was bad since four others had appeared. She was getting rusty. Glancing over at the ship beside the pier, she saw the final stretcher being loaded on board. Unlucky lucky bastard.

   “Come on, Hastings,” Commander Clouston ushered Genevieve away, taking her rifle.

   “Where are we going?” She said tiredly, glancing after the StuKa Ju.

   “You need to get on the ship.” She instantly ducked under his arm, removing it from her back.

   “Why?” Genevieve took a step back, “Get someone else on, one of the soldiers from the beach. Or a stretcher.”

   “You have to get on,” Clouston pressed, “You need to get back home. You’re needed for the next battle.”

   “No more than any other soldier. I stay and I can shoot down other planes.”

   “It’s not a risk worth taking; you could be shot or bombed any time.”

   “If I go, home won’t be there for much longer.”

   “If you stay, home won’t be there for long either. Now go. That’s an order.”

   Grimacing, Genevieve reluctantly followed his instruction, stepping onto the unstable walkway and down onto the ship's deck. She sent a glance of silent disdain at her Commander but it changed as she swore she heard him say:

  “Come back for us.”  

  The shouts from Dunkirk beach were suddenly more apparent. Countless men cried to be taken home with the ship, begging the chosen few with hoarse voices and broken spirits. Genevieve turned back and heading down the stairs into the belly of the beast. Hit with a wave of sweat and tea, she grabbed a slice of jam on toast and forced it down her throat.

 The feeling of claustrophobia crept up her spine. It was soon joined by the memory of the other ships who had attemtped and failed to leave the Mole. Her stomach was in flux, curdling the half-stale bread slice into mush.

 “Sorry, you can’t go up,” The nurse had an arm across Genevieve’s chest as she reached the door at the top of the stairs.

   “I’m gonna throw up,” She said bluntly. Automatically, the nurse opened the door and allowed Genevieve passage. The door slammed shut behind her but she didn’t care. The salt air was almost as bad as the sweat but at least it was fresh.

  The screams from the beach faded as the ship sailed away into the night.  Dunkirk disappeared, dipping down into the horizon, into the dusk. Genevieve wasn’t sure how much time had passed but she wasn’t moved from her spot by any of the sailors who walked past. Maybe they knew her reason.

 After what seemed like hours had passed, with her head back against a steel wall, she closed her eyes and allowed herself todrift off.

   “TORPEDO!”

   Genevieve shot up in time to brace for impact. The ship lurched to the right, throwing the occupants of its belly against the walls. Water exploded into the bowels; soldiers were tossed over the side of the boat and into the black water below. Genevieve grasped the chain link barrier, feeling the floor beneath her slide upwards with the shift in gravity.

   “Abandon ship!”

   Another torpedo thwacked into the bow of the ship, tipping it forwards. Tugging her body upwards, Genevieve scrambled with numb hands to get to the stern. The propeller rose out of the water as she climbed up the chains like a ladder. She heard men jumping off the boat into the freezing water, grabbing onto random debris to keep themselves afloat.

   Water exploded to Genevieve’s left, firing droplets directly into her ear and clogging it with her pounding heartbeat. The murky depths rose closer to her feet as she desperately tried to get away. Her limbs weren’t responding properly, numb from the cold and fear. But the chain links turned to solid stable metal and she knew, in the darkness, she’d found the highest point.

   Another torpedo in the seemingly endless barrage smashed into the already sinking ship, blowing men out of the water. They collided with the distorted surf. The stern of the ship groaned and swayed. Genevieve clung onto the bar, her arms screamed as they were pushed to their limits. She was on her front, her legs kicking, scrabbling to stay out of the water.  

  She heard a hollow clatter from inside the ship. Fists banged against the hull. Screwing up her eyes, Genevieve looped her arms through the bars and cried until there were no more tears. They just kept banging. Even as the shadow of the U-Boat slinked away, they kept banging. Even with the freezing water, they kept banging. Only when the sun started to come up and Genevieve realised she wasn’t alone atop the stern did the banging cease. It faded to a weak patter. Then to a soft knock. Then finally to a solitary tap.

 Author’s Notes:

1/ This is a series, with chapters varying in length. I have the whole fic planned out, I just have to finish writing it. I’ve written some chapters and not others because I’m impatient and have no structure in my life. Art imitates life and life imitates it right back.

2/ Since ah dinnae ken Collins’ first name, it will be Jack. So original, I know. This detail and many others about Collins’ life in this fiction are my own interpretation.

3/ Commander Bolton (Sir Kenneth Brannagh’s character) was actually Commander James Campbell Clouston but renamed in the film. He saved over 200,000 men at Dunkirk before his boat was hit and, after sending the adjoining boat back to Dunkirk to save the rest of the men, he died of hypothermia in the English Channel. Therefore, out of respect for the family and the man himself, I have changed Bolton to Clouston in this work – and will do so for any other Dunkirk fiction that I write.

4/ I will update as often as I can so this won’t end up like that one fic that hasn’t been updated since 2009. But I will be going to university soon and will have to go on the occasional hiatus. My apologies in advance.

5/ I own nothing except for my original character Genevieve Hastings.

6/ In spite of me not owning this film or its characters, please don’t plagiarise, repost or take credit for my work. I worked hard on this and this is my first post on my first writing blog. Please don’t put me off posting anything else.

Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoy it!