#ha doyun

[choujinx]

IBEON SAENG-DO JAL BUTAKAE: GIEOGUI HAN JOGAK (2023) by lee hye

#ibeon saeng do jal butakae #ibeon saeng do jal butakae: gieogui han jogak #see you in my 19th life #yun chowon #ha doyun #manhwaedit #*nikki

[purekwon]

doyun looking as if he’s constantly speechless by chowon’s beauty whenever he looks at her is so skrunkle i need himmmmm it’s not an urge it’s a necessity

#doyun is the standard #doyun puppy eyes #see you in my 19th life #doyun and chowon #kdrama review #ha doyun #yoon chowon #moon seoha #mun seoha #ban jieum #ahn dong goo #ha yoon kyung #kdrama #2023 kdrama

[comixandco]

i’m just

there must be so many gaps in jieum’s memory

she was the girl of many trades but can she remember how she learnt any of those skills? No they were all from her past lives so they’re gone. Can she remember leaving her neglectful family to live with ae-gyeong? No because she was from a past life, so where does ji-eum think she grew up? She remembers being good at school and her awards but not if anybody was there in the audience for her. She says in her phone call to her superior that she remembers switching departments before, but she doesn’t remember working in the hotel. She cooks meals the exact way as ae-gyeong taught her and she taught ae-gyeong, but she doesn’t remember having learnt them. if she can’t remember anything to do with her past lives, she wouldn’t be able to remember anything that had happened in the past few months the drama is set over.

that must be such an odd and confusing existence, to only remember small dots and flashes of your life, and a giant gap in recent memory, and she doesn’t even seem to be affected by it either? Did she go to the hospital after coming to consciousness standing on a bridge with no idea how she got there? Did they run tests on her brain to see if something had gone wrong? Does she think she suffered a mental breakdown?

What is going on in ji-eum’s brain in those final scenes i want to dissect her thoughts like a grape

#see you in my 19th life #did she move back into her old job on the suggestion of a therapist who is helping her with her sudden memory loss? #she was living with ae-gyeong where did she think she lived? #does she have monthly visits to a group of doctors that are fascinated by her oddly specific memory loss? #in those first few days after losing all her memories. did people she knew try to approach her and she freaked? #if she’d gone to the hospital ae-gyeong would be her emergency contact. maybe it just slipped through the cracks because she was also in #hospital recovering from surgery at the time. #there is a large set of contacts in ji-eum’s phone that she doesn’t recognise at all - not just numbers from her loved ones #but contacts for her job at the hotel as well and anybody she’d met during the show’s run #imagine with me if you will if there had been one final episode instead of those few scenes #ji-eum recovering from what she can only assume is some kind of mental breakdown from stress and her childhood #ae-gyeong coming to visit her in hospital and this deliciously heart-wrenching scene that mirrors ji-eum by her bedside when she was ill #and ji-eum doesn’t recognise her at all and only feels a base level of concern knowing ae-gyeong had surgery not long before #ae-gyeong promising to take care of ji-eum but turns her down because her head and heart hurt from being near her so she rents out an #apartment. she has no recollection of working at the hotel and seo-ha isn’t ready to see her yet it’s too soon so doyun has to handle her #transition back to the engineering track. and in her phone she deletes all the contacts she doesn’t know but when she looks at the photos #and icr if she took one with seo-ha but she must have but defo the one with her ae-gyeong and cho-won. she can’t bear to delete them #even though she doesn’t know them or remember why they were taking this photo. but bc it’s a romance she has to have a few photos of seo-ha #and she sort of ponders over them like. who are you. who were you to me. but it hurts her head so she puts down her phone #and there can be a bunch of times throughout the episode where she just misses him like. she’s asleep in hospital and he brings her flowers #and she wakes up just in time to see the back of his head leaving the room. she could visit ae-gyeong to try to rebuild this #parental relationship she doesn’t remember but has all the proof that this is the lady who raised her. and like in the show seo-ha could be #sat right behind her but he doesn’t interact with her directly they just do the napkin bit and then he leaves w/o looking at her #and the meet-up with cho-won could stay the same with the difference that ji-eum recognises her from their photo and says something like #’we know each other don’t we.’ and cho-won gets so excited and maybe even calls them sisters but then she realises what she’s doing and is #like. ‘that’s how it felt for me. we worked together just a few months ago. i’m cho-won’ and then ji-eum can do that #gorgeous reach for her memories from the show where she rolls the name around her mouth because it’s just so familiar #and ofc i’d change nothinf about the scene where she finally re-unites with seo-ha that was delicious af #but i feel like there were just too many gaps in her memories for it to have been smoothed over y’know? #disclaimer i read the webtoon first and loved it but think it had to change for the adaptation

[lilium-dragomir]

#Manhwa #Ibeon Saeng-do Jal Butakae #Ibeon Saeng do Jal Butakae #See You in My 19th Life #Chowon Yun #Doyun Ha #Jieum Ban #Seoha Mun

[presumenothing]

me, having just finished both the drama and webtoon for see you in my 19th life, looking at my no-questions-asked fave: Well,

#it's ha doyun. obviously #all the anons: you are once again validated re my Character Type. the joke walks itself at this point #fave relationship is also doyun and seoha because once again. predictable #ramble tag

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

#to have and to hold #till death do us part collection #chahnniesroom #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz fic #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #chan x y/n #chan x reader #chan x you #chan fluff #skz imagines #stray kids #chan #bang chan

[haechwrites]

sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH

prince!lee donghyuck x baker fem!OC (no name!)

synopsis: prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.

wc: ~17.1k

warnings: pet names used only so i don't have to namedrop lol. no other warnings tho!

A/N: this is my second longest fic i've actually finished hehe i'm really happy with this one and now i wish i had a prince haechan lol

-- some things to note first:

THIS FIC IS WRITTEN IN FIRST PERSON. if you see ♔, that means it's in haechan's pov written in third person!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As a child, life is all about the simple pleasures. It didn’t matter that I’d come home to a dark house carrying the faint snores of my mother. I was still reeling from the sweet taste of mangoes on my tongue, the slight dusting of sugar in my hair, and the lingering soreness from laughing in my cheeks. I’d quickly wash up, give my mom a quick peck on the forehead, and tuck myself in bed. Before I know it, the sun greets me again and I meet my grandma outside as she leads me to the palace. This was my routine and for my young brain, there was nothing ever wrong with it.

My grandma is the head baker at the palace. Since the separation of my parents, I have spent my days with my grandma at work. It was all I knew and I was content with it. Every sunrise, I’d have 30 minutes before I had to meet her outside. Together, we’d walk to the palace’s servant entrance and my grandma would give our favorite guard, Doyun, a warm smile and a promise to slip an extra pastry in his meal for letting me tag along. I’d walk past him with a finger to my lips asking him to be sworn to secrecy. He’d always return it with a wink and a small laugh. It was our little promise, though I’m sure no one would actually mind an extra guest on the grounds – especially a mere 7-year-old. 

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him. 

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric. 

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head. 

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms. 

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out. 

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door. 

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore. 

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts. 

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen. 

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs. 

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet. 

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks. 

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad. 

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on. 

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief. 

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle. 

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen. 

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone. 

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.” 

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape. 

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman. 

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince. 

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged. 

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why. 

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no. 

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist. 

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place. 

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.” 

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing. 

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer. 

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him. 

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs. 

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?” 

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?” 

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder. 

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself. 

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible. 

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century. 

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.” 

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh. 

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week. 

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself. 

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face. 

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring. 

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come. 

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears. 

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand. 

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment. 

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!” 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to. 

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her. 

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold. 

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands. 

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking. 

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks. 

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation. 

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck. 

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly. 

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one. 

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter. 

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind. 

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters. 

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills. 

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain. 

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us. 

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears. 

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger. 

“Don’t blame him.” 

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words. 

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration. 

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place. 

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks. 

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow. 

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too. 

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer. 

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning. 

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers. 

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more. 

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted. 

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…” 

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me. 

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me. 

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter. 

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen. 

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look. 

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room. 

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt. 

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek. 

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent. 

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too. 

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush. 

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again. 

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here. 

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door. 

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors. 

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands. 

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?” 

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward. 

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop. 

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans. 

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing. 

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming. 

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts. 

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation. 

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.” 

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance 

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner. 

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us. 

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him. 

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.” 

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues, 

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer. 

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! pls like, reblog, reply, whatever!! if u want hehe

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan fic #prince haechan #royalty nct #royal nct #nct dream #nct #nct fic #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #haechan oneshot #haechan blurb #haechan imagine #haechan scenario #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan fanfic #lee donghyuck fic #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck fanfic #lee donghyuck imagine #lee donghyuck oneshot #nct writing #haechan writing #haechwrites #haechan #lee donghyuck x reader

[genav0s]

❪ ⌕ . ❫ ' OO. ㅤ ﹕ PRESSURE⠀!⠀⠀⠀[  . . .  ]

i cannot make you understand. i cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside of me. i cannot even explain it to myself.⠀–—⠀from, "The Metamorphosis"

✶ . CHARACTERS: eun hwaseong & ian moon. ✶ . WORD COUNT: 2.2k ✶ . WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy, drug use, & fighting. ✶ . NOTES: seunghui & doyun are in my wip boy group. written in two hours instead of finishing the conclusion of my anthropology thesis, might be a little academic vocabulary-wise in the beginning. jarringly inconsistent usage of present & past tense.

There is something to be said about pressure. An all-consuming smothering that has the capacity to produce diamonds or dust. 

Hwaseong loved the feeling of that smothering pressure. 

He liked the duality of feeling trapped in his own head but protected by the knowledge that he’d come out on the other side. 

He was raised on the adrenaline of everything being on the line— his mother’s entire career was revived in an instant with a carefully executed smile on Hwaseong’s behalf. He was performing on stage, entertainment for politicians and important celebrities, before he could properly assemble reliable memories and expressions of the rush of emotions he felt every time he stepped up into the spotlight.

Training at Apricus was a breeze compared to the level of perfection his mother instilled in him as she oversaw his tutoring sessions. Accustomed to the expectation of excellence and motivated by the tense scrutiny the executives placed upon potential debuts, in Hwaseong’s mind the only reason he hadn’t debuted sooner was because of how young he was. 

Karin had a weird aversion to debuting anyone under the age of 16— the rule hadn’t been broken for a single artist under the label. He figured it had something to do with the contract she was under when she had first debuted, though he had never thought to ask. 

Ending up on the survival show was a sigh of relief for the Seoul native. The gesture— he believed, was supposed to be a true show of their faith in his talents and marketability. Seven years of dedication at the age of 17 was more than most of the others on the show could boast about. Sure, he figured it would be just as much a challenge as it was a reward for his hard work. But he figured being chosen for the show was much more a formality than a true test of his charisma and bare minimum ability to carry a tune. 

The offense he found in the selection of the other boys had been a selling point in his arc throughout the show. He was filmed scoffing at Sanghyuk’s long hours spent practicing over and over and over in the dance studio Hwaseong knew had the best acoustics. He rolled his eyes when Carter struggled to find the right words to thank the judging panel’s gracious oversight of his horrendous pronunciation. His teeth gritted in annoyance as he bit back insults directed at Jioh every time he hurled whatever it was he ate before his confessionals. 

But none of them got under his skin the way Ian Moon managed to. 

Their disdain for one another had been well documented throughout the show. In Hwaseong’s eyes, Ian was nothing more than a pretty boy who had only made it onto the show as someone else’s replacement. Hwaseong had never bothered to ask why Ian had similarly brushed Hwaseong off so early on, in truth he didn’t care much for the reason. 

The two’s highly publicized mutual distaste had managed to pique the interests of the producers who incorporated the tension between the two into nearly every episode. 

Genuine statements of “Thank you for the opportunity, I’ll try harder” from Ian were met with censored insults from Hwaseong. And as the distance between their rankings continued to grow throughout the first half of the series, Hwaseong only felt emboldened by his disdain for the Texan former athlete. 

“I don’t get it. Yeah, he was put on the show ‘cause he’s pretty, but so what?” Doyun laughs as he watches Hwaseong’s careful surveillance of Ian’s revisioning behind the glass separating the two of them. 

“Pretty sells,” Seunghui agrees, nodding at Doyun’s words, gently nudging Hwaseong’s shoulder. With a scowl, Hwaseong reverts his eyes from the sight in front of him. Turning to the other two instead.

“Dude’s a smug asshole. Trained for a few months— as a joke, by the way. And he ends up on the shortlist for a boy group because what— some middle school girl thought he was hot?” Doyun and Seunghui exchange a glance before dissolving into shared laughter, falling into each other as Hwaseong broods to himself. 

“Careful, middle school girls are about to fund your whole career.” Doyun hums, lips downturned into a pout as he taps at Hwaseong’s cheek sarcastically. 

“Isn’t your sister in middle school?” Seunghui chimes in curiously, finally catching Hwaseong’s attention. 

“What if Dasom's part of the middle school girls that petitioned for Ian to be on the show?” Doyun muses, bouncing off of Seunghui’s good-natured teasing of their older friend. With a piercing side eye, Hwaseong chooses to ignore the two’s musings. 

“He’s lucky Jaehee’s personally mentoring him,” He mentions off-handedly. 

Doyun and Seunghui’s confusion is enough for him to continue fueling his own jealous ruminations. 

“He’s in there with her right now, bastard—” 

With a rumble of chuckling from the other two, Hwaseong’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, briefly releasing him from his ranting. 

“Jaehee offered to give pointers to anyone who got to her during the break before filming resumed,” Seunghui explained with a shrug of his shoulders. 

The corners of Doyun’s mouth curled in amusement as they watched Hwaseong try to run through the endless instructions thrown at them over the hours they had already spent filming that day. 

“I—” He begins, only to be cut off by enthused Doyun. 

“He’s not the bastard between the two of you either. His dad’s just dead, yours is a whore.”

The act of filming the show was quite possibly the most dreaded part of Hwaseong’s routine for the latter half of 2013. He concealed yawns and distasteful jokes behind the heads of the other contestants, only stepping into view of the camera when it came time for him to prove his worth to the judges seated in front of the remaining trainees. 

Regardless of his intentional aversion to the camera, the producers always managed to find him when he and Ian were at their most heated. Volatile exchanges heightened into agitated bite-backs which bled into almost any mention of the one contestant that could unnerve Hwaseong at the mere sound of his name. He never thought it to be a coincidence that the two of them happened to find themselves within minimal feet of one another, entering confessionals as one exited, performing one before the other. 

But the producers had never made their thirst for conflict more obvious than one of the last days of filming. 

Against all— mostly Hwaseong’s— odds, Ian had managed to squeeze his way within reach of the final lineup. A final solo performance of each of the 10 trainees remaining would be the determination between debut and elimination. Doyun and Seunghui had been eliminated weeks ago. Hwaseong wasn’t surprised as much as he was peeved. For some reason, the show just couldn’t shake Ian. 

“Yo, what’s your fuckin’ problem with me, dude?” 

Hwaseong knew Ian had issues with his temper. It was a plot point emphasized over and over by the producers throughout the taping. He had a short fuse and a burning desire to get even. Hwaseong figured it to be leftover rage from the injury that removed the possibility of achieving the dream he’d had since he was a young boy. Sanghyuk had let it slip that Ian’s father was an abusive surgeon— an oxymoron that made Hwaseong’s head hurt so bad he brushed it off and never thought about it again. 

“Does it matter?” Hwaseong snarks in response, the corner of his lip curling in his quip. Three words are all it takes for Ian’s eyes to light up brighter than Hwaseong had ever seen before. A fire suddenly erupted from a spark he didn’t know was there.

“Yeah, it does Hwaseong.” Ian hissed, fists and jaw equally tense, clenched in restraint. He glances at the other trainees who slowly begin to pay attention to the tension breaking between the two boys.

“Whatever Ian. The show’s almost over, you’ll be able to go home and forget about me in about three days.” His words are delivered with a scoff, a roll of his eyes following shortly after. 

“Are you threatened by me or—” That was enough to set Hwaseong off. The fire spreading to his much darker eyes, launching him forward to stand eye-to-eye with the American. 

“Threatened?” He all but spat the word out, as if an insult to his existence. “You’re so full of shit. We both know the only reason you’re here is because Jaehee wants to keep the pretty boy with the funny accent around.”

There isn’t a moment of pause before Ian grabs at Hwaseong’s shirt, throwing him to the ground before Hwaseong or any of the other spectators could react. As Hwaseong scrambles to rise to his feet from the frigid floor beneath him Ian smirks at the clear panic in his eyes. 

“What’s it like to be so fucking pathetic that no one bothers defends you?” The amusement in his eyes sends a shiver down Hwaseong’s spine as he finds himself unable to tear his attention away from the vocalist towering over him. 

“What’s it like to be so fucking cowardly you have to beat the motivation out of your competition to win at anything?” Hwaseong’s words are coated in venom as he returns the insult. “You’re not making the group, Ian. No one wants you here.” 

With that, a blur of yelling and bodies shifting in Hwaseong’s vision clouds his perception. He barely registers the others struggling to restrain the older boy from grabbing at the younger. The ringing in his ears from the weight of the built-up resentment between the two of them culminates in a smirk that Hwaseong can tell infuriates Ian to his core. 

Through gritted teeth, held back by both Sanghyuk and Carter, Ian musters a strained, “Fuck you.” 

With a saunter to the door of the practice room, Hwaseong speaks up with one last taunt. “Take care of yourself, Ian. Send us a postcard from Texas.” 

If Hwaseong believed in a higher power, he was sure God was enjoying making Hwaseong eat his words. Over the next three days, Ian had not only turned half of the other contestants against the show’s youngest trainee but had managed to squeeze his way into the final lineup. 

As if by some sick twist of fate, Hwaseong watched the group’s final member claim the last spot in the quintet, that signature cocky smirk of his plastered across his praised features. When he catches Hwaseong’s eye from his spot at the other end of the line— Sanghyuk and Romeo providing a necessary buffer between the two with starry eyes and blinding smiles, Hwaseong can feel his stomach twist with a chill so nauseating his smile is wiped from his face. His knees buckle underneath him, catching Carter’s attention who finds the situation so gratifying he leans over to whisper a carefully enunciated, “How’s it feel, dumbass?” under his breath.

With disbelief etched into his expression, mistakenly read as gratitude, Hwaseong trends for the next week. 

“Do you remember that fight we got into?” Ian chuckles lowly, slowly taking a hit from the lit blunt in his hand. He shakes his head as he remembers the moment that irrevocably changed the course of his life. He exhales after a moment, watching the smoke fill the empty air in front of his nose before slowly dissipating into the Seoul night sky. Ian shifts to take a second drag before passing the blunt to Hwaseong, sighing slowly. 

“Yeah, made you eat shit in front of everyone,” Ian responds, a dimple coming to rest on his cheek, turning to watch Hwaseong as his lips closed around the blunt between his fingers. 

“Shut up. You did not make me ‘eat shit’”. Hwaseong answers, the smoke leaving his mouth in a sudden stream. 

“Yeah, I did. I beat your ass and made it into the final lineup.” 

The younger man’s eyebrows furrow in disagreement, “You did not beat my ass, Ian.” 

As he reaches for the blunt, Ian playfully hums, “Still made it into the lineup.” 

Hwaseong scoffs with an eye roll, “Last.” 

With an exhale Ian simply mutters, “How bad does your ass still sting?” 

The two share a lazy chuckle, eyes drooping as they recall the memory differently. Rising with a grunt, Hwaseong brushes off the comment casually, “Whatever, dickhead.” 

Mirroring with a grunt of his own, Ian gently soothes the younger man’s temperament, “You love me.” 

Receiving a grumble in response, Ian watches Hwaseong turn to unlock the door of their dorm to reenter the shared space in the early hours of the morning. 

Stopping him with a sudden urgency he asks, “Wait, do we look high? I don’t need Sanghyuk on my ass tonight.” 

Hwaseong offers a snorted chuckle in response, receiving a furrowing of Ian’s eyebrows. “Doesn’t matter that you look high when you smell high.” After a brief moment of blank staring on Ian’s end, Hwaseong continues toward the door, fiddling with the door knob.

“I smell high?”

#⠀–— ⠀*⠀⠀:⠀⠀TRANSCRIPT⠀!⠀⠀[ . . . ] #ficnetfairy #fictional kpop soloist #fictional boygroup #fictional kpop oc #fictional kpop community #fictional idol group #fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #kpop idol #kpop oc #kpop au #kpop boygroup #kpop boy group #kpop #kpop bg #fake kpop oc #fake idol group #fake kpop boy group #fake kpop idol #fake oc #fake idol oc #fake idol community #idol au #idol #fictional idol #idol oc

[enrax]

Friends in High Places

When: November 25, 2022 - 1:26 p.m. Where: Junji’s apartment

"All that's required is a small amount of spit." Junji hands the younger man a plastic vial. A sticker wrapped around it reads: This sample belongs to.... CHO, DOYUN. "Nothing may come of it, but we might discover something new about how the demon interacts with your physiology. It’s worth investigating."

The two men are seated on the couch, with a half-dozen snacks spread out on the tea table. Junji is only certain about one thing that Doyun liked, and that was juice. He had to wing it when it came to food. This inspired him to create deep-red Yokan bricks, bean-jam Manju, roasted rice cakes, and crunchy Yugwa. He's gone too far, as he often does. The necromancer took his hosting duties exceedingly seriously. And he is eager to put Doyun at ease. He figures that living with a demon makes such a thing hard to come by. 

Junji's cats are fascinated by the younger man. Kage sits at Junji's feet, observing but keeping a respectful distance. Momo and Mei, on the other hand, are purring and rubbing up against Doyun's calves. "I'm sorry about them," says Junji. "Let me know if they are bothering you."

The necromancer has always placed his faith in the opinions of cats. And his determination to assist Doyun is only strengthened by the fact that his cats approve of him. Doyun, unlike him and the majority of the Guan Group's other supernaturals, had no desire to be a part of this strange life. He was a true victim of bad fortune. 

"How have you been doing these past several months?" Junji inquires. "All things considered, you're looking... well." That was a lie. He was still as pale and listless as Junji remembered him, but he doubts telling him the truth would be of any use.

@choxyun​

#i: doyun #t: friends in high places

[loosingmoreletters]

1. Thank you and That One Anon for making the English speaking fandom for Weapon Creator!

2. In the name of bullying Yun Taeheon, I need his reaction to Mun Doyun- aka the B rank assassin that was Shin Junseo’s guild leader. Cuz objectively, Yun Taeheon knows a lot can happen in a year and stuff, but also he’s an S-rank leader of a top guild that is willing to give Shin Junseo just about anything and he still cannot recruit him. And then there’s this B-rank nobody (to him) who specifically hired Shin Junseo - as a D rank weapon creator who could only make an average knife every 20 seconds - BC HE HAD A SKILL THAST DESTROYED THE BLADES HE USED. Literally the same reason!! But no, somehow Yun Taeheon is losing this race.

Even better if he somehow gets more backstory or through some time shenanigans he meets the other Mun Doyun, who is basically the reason Shin Junseo is even as good as he is. Like, the reason sjs learned all he could and stuff. Anyway, yth being objectively, obviously on a higher level than this dude and yet still absolutely seething at the very idea of how much he apparently is not measuring up. How do you think that should go?

also, looking at the firsts chapter and think the first chapter and I think Sjs could be the little kid at the very beginning? Meaning that he has grown up in he world of hunters and gates, giving some cool world building to how this is a whole generation of ppl growing up with gates and magic.

However, for the sake of getting more of your sugar daddy au, I am ignoring that. Or maybe it could be incorporated, like- yth was trying to figure out how to ask sjs for just, an actual relationship. And sjs had stopped their contract after signing onto the guild. Extra tension!! Cuz obviously yth wasn’t gonna reach out and be like, “Hey, so that didn’t work out…”

glad to be of service!!!!! taking it from the bottom here, you mean this kid?

Huh! Now that you mention it, that could track! Would be rather interesting too as I'd put this kid somehwere between 8 and 12, which implies dungeons have been a thing for much longer than just a couple of years. Tho I assumed the adult in the next panel was YTH, so hmmm. But also what does this say about the state of his family. where the fuck are they. I need answers. And also I'd love some worldbuilding around growing up in such a world. In SCTIR, one of my fave things is to linger on like, the first weeks after the dungeon breaks. how did legislation change, the government, the way people reacto to this-

"In the name of bullying YTH" man we really all just took a look at this guy, who is probably meant to be like a cool badass character and decided we shall treat him like our sibling's new boyfriend and thus make fun of hinm. huh. god given right to bully the man.

But yeah, do you think YTH assumed just a little bit that SJS had like weird trauma. and also like- okay full confession time. when I started reading this, I assumed this guy would be our love interest second protag. I mean. look at him and SJS reaction to praise

and the way SJS also thinks of this guild in the future memories he receives? a place where he was accepted, found friends, where they kept pushing forward together- Listen. also the way it lingers on MDY's body there. I'm just saying, the vibes are accurate. to me.

Anyway, YTH does have the vibes of somebody who is incredibly understanding but privately also has beef with a dead man. he knows it's unfair and stupid, but also he could buy SJS a god damn pent house apartment. he would. that and any item he wants. actually I just realized while typing this would've been really fucking great to insert into my little soulmate fanfic given I did toss in like one sided bonds existing there. something to consider for the future.

But man, I think it would be interesting if SJS is confronted with him again also in the context of like, SJS not recognizing MDY's brother despite his future memories, which sure has some implication. I told a friend that like my assumption is that Mun Dojin died in the other timeline and I desperately need him and SJS to talk because even if the memories SJS has never actually existed here, that still sort of makes him the only person MDJ can talk to.

actually, man. this would make anything SJS/YTH even funnier. here's your crush. there's your crush's vampire familier and his ex guildmaster's (former bf's??????) little brother. god I need MDJ and Elizabeth to show up more often. slkdfhsldkh sorry got entirely off track here.

OKAY BACK TO SUGAR DADDY AU- I just realized how fucking hilarious this would also be because like. SJS manages to bag one man and it's this big shot guild leader. and instead of signing up with his guild, he goes to these small nobodies. like, it probably just makes sense to SJS. This was a job, now here is another, newer job. Life goes on.

YTH meanwhile is the math meme. Min Huisu told him to get a social life. he paid someone for that, but the guy turns out to be actually cute and fun, so he'd like to have a relationship that is not just superifical. and this guy just. mcfucking signs on to a guild he hasn't even heard of. f in the fucking chat

#somebody should start a wiki for this fandom btw so i don't have to keep looking things up in the chapters #not me tho i'm already busy contributing to another wiki #weapon creator #sorry this god so rambly and all over the place i'm v exited #jacqtacq #ask

[threeletterslife]

29 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up in yet another unfamiliar place. This time, however, these strangers seem to recognize you. With your previous judgments and aspirations thrown out the window, you're now forced to face where your loyalties really lie. Who will you betray? And which General will you choose to stand by his side?

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity

⨰ wordcount: 3.5k

⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⧖⧗Circa Opal⧗⧖

Tread carefully. But maybe not too carefully. Those in power have a knack for smelling fear.

So you decide not to smile when the Darlaean General enters your chambers, but you do give him a small nod of acknowledgment. For a second, it’s silent as both of you take in the other’s appearance. Today, he’s in all-black: black slacks, black dress shirt, black leather boots. The only thing he’s wearing that isn’t black is the silver sparkle of the handle of his sword—the one that always sits sheathed in his belt. The one you swore flashed a strange, royal blue light at you the last time you saw him. With his impossibly perfect posture and towering stature, he looks intimidating. But you must be imagining it because he’s actually smiling. Not with his teeth, but it’s enough to slightly lift the corners of his lips and put a little glint in his dark eyes.

“It suits you,” he says, gesturing toward your gown. “Purple has always looked good on you.”

“Thank you,” you say in an even tone. You glance back at the mirror again, turning slightly around to see what you can do about the clasps in the back.

“Please, allow me.”

In three swift steps, the Darlaean General’s standing behind you, taking the clasps from your hands into his own. They’re surprisingly cold, but you don’t dare to offend him by flinching. So you stay as still as possible as he meticulously hooks each one together. Then, he takes the loose sage green ribbon around your waist and ties a neat bow, quite gently, too, as if to make sure you have plenty of room to breathe. “Is this fine?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Yes,” you breathe, aware of how close he is to you. Is it wrong to think that this moment reminds you of when Yoongi helped you put on your necklace? The last time this had happened, you’d felt a little too warm and flustered. This time, though you can sense the intimacy of the Darlaean General’s actions, you feel nothing yourself. Maybe Doyun is right. Maybe he does still love you. In that case, what an awkward time the rest of this night will be.

The door opens once more, which startles you so much that you subconsciously step away from the Darlaean General. (You hope he doesn’t notice.) Your lady-in-waiting comes in, pushing a silver cart filled to the brim with steaming dishes. The delectable waft of scent reaches your nose in an instant, making your mouth water. Behind her, four men come in, dressed in similar attire. Two of them carry a large, wooden table while the other two carry two plush-looking armchairs. They set up the dinner quickly, positioning the table and chairs in the middle of your room and placing the silver platters, dishes and silverware on top of a mauve tablecloth. Before you can even tell them your thanks, they leave. Almost as if they’re ghosts, never meant to be seen.

The Darlaean General pulls out your chair for you, and you sink into it, muttering a soft, “Thank you.”

He nods, then walks to the other side of the table where his chair is. He sits, then immediately pours himself a glass of red wine. When he notices you staring, he pauses. “Would you like to try some?” he asks. “You’ve never been a fan of alcohol, but maybe your tastes have changed.”

“They haven’t,” you assure him. You’ve had sips of Takju in Solaria over the years but only to fit in during social situations. It was never to drink your issues away or drink to solely get drunk.

The Darlaean General slowly raises his wine glass and sips. “Well then,” he says, gesturing toward the food. “Help yourself.”

You don’t need to be told twice; to spare yourself the awkwardness of talking to this man in front of you, you’ll dive into the food. It looks like today, you’ve also been spared meat. There is an arugula and spinach salad topped with pomegranate seeds, strawberries and dried cranberries, drizzled with a heady balsamic vinaigrette that looks like a beautiful start to your dinner. A spiced carrot and lentil soup sits steaming in a small cauldron, waiting to be tasted, and next to it is a pot of what you think is tea—a palate cleanser. But the main course today seems to be the roasted butternut squash and sweet potatoes, sprinkled with some sort of crumbled nut and lemon zest. The fresh, citrusy smell of the lemon sauce they’d poured onto the dish is enough to have you reach for it first, before trying the appetizers or the tea. 

The food is delicious—just as it smells. Of course, in the back of your mind, you think of the frequent toilet trips afterward due to the richness of the food that your stomach hasn’t yet gotten used to. But it’s almost worth it. You eat steadily but without a single moment of hesitation, and for several embarrassing minutes, you forget that you have the Darlaean General in front of you, watching quietly as you dine ferociously. When you come to the realization that it has been completely silent except for your own chewing and crunching, your mind scrambles to find something to talk about to fill the awkward silence. Talking about the food seems to be the safest bet, the only thing you and the Darlaean General seem to have in common for now. But before you can open your mouth, he speaks.

“I didn’t think you’d accept my invitation,” he says, slicing through the seasoned sweet potato on his plate. He stops momentarily to stare at you across the table. But it’s not really an intimidating stare, though it almost feels like it. He just seems more curious. So you decide to entertain an answer.

“Well, I didn’t really think I had any reason to reject it,” you reply, setting down your silverware to take a sip of your ice water.

The man nods. “I should’ve known that even after spending all that time with those helluvians, you’d still be kind. You always were.”

You can’t help the frown that creases your forehead. But the Solarians are kind, too. In fact, they showered you in kindness when you lived there for three years. How could he be so wrong? But then again, you suppose the Solarians only showed you kindness because they thought you were one of them. Had they realized you were actually of Darlaean blood, they would’ve tortured and killed you a long time ago. Like the war prisoner with the boxy smile.

Oh. You feel a sudden pang of grief in your chest thinking about him. So you hadn’t been going crazy after all. He had recognized you! And to his despair, you hadn’t. You wonder now if he thought you were acting, if you were putting up a show to assassinate the Solarian General and bring home victory. But he could’ve also thought you sold out Darlae, and that’s what it really looked like when you saw his face: the hurt, the betrayal. 

“I’m sorry,” the Darlaean General says, breaking you out of your thoughts. He must’ve noticed your contorted face. “They treated you with kindness; I understand. It’s been hard to let go, I imagine.”

You look up at him, wondering if he’s tricking you into revealing more than you have to. But as soon as you think that thought, you scold yourself. How could you be like that? He’s obviously being genuine; he was your lover, for fuck’s sake. He’s only worried—simply sympathizing with you, not fishing for information. So what else can you do but tell the truth: “It has been difficult,” you confess. “I’ve been confused, mostly. Sad, too. But… But, yes, well, I’m trying to get used to things around here, and it’s going…Well, it’s going…” you trail off. “I’m sorry, did I keep a bird?”

Your abrupt question catches both you and the Darlaean General off-guard as the both of you stare at each other, wide-eyed. Then, you’re laughing nervously, shaking your head at your stupid blunder. “I saw a birdcage earlier when I was exploring my room, so I was curious,” you say attempting to explain yourself.

To your relief, the Darlaean General smiles. And this smile is wider than the one you saw earlier; it’s enough to melt away his intimidating exterior. For a split second, you finally see the man you saw in your dreams in him. But it goes away as quickly as it came. “You had a pet phoenix,” the Darlaean General says in an even tone. “A delicacy around here, especially here in the 12th city. But you saved it from the royal butcher when you were young.”

“A phoenix?” You cock your head. 

“A bird made of fire,” he explains. “A bird of much controversy. They say the helluvians cursed the common Darlaean blackbird, which created the phoenix. We eat them to get rid of them, but they can be quite invincible.”

There’s an unsettling feeling that begins to grow in your stomach. “What happened to the phoenix I used to keep around?”

“We didn’t eat it, Y/N,” the Darlaean General says. “I never let them touch him. I know how much the bird meant to you. We’ve frozen him to keep him safe from hunters.”

“Frozen?” you gasp.

“It won’t kill him,” he says. “It keeps him in a stable state. If we were to… defrost him, he would still be fine. As I’ve said, his kind is quite invincible.”

“But the Darlaeans have found a way to kill them?” you ask, feeling a little sick at the mention of dead birds but unsure of how else to continue the conversation.

“Well, yes,” the Darlaean General says. “We have found a way to kill them. But let us not focus on those details. You often get squeamish when we talk death and gore during our meals.”

“We ate together quite often, didn’t we?” you say, almost apologetically (and also quite thankful that he insisted on a topic change without your asking). 

“Every night,” he says, though he doesn’t smile this time. “After three years, we’ve rekindled our tradition. It’s nice,” he says. But both of you know it’s really not. You can’t tell by the look on his face since he keeps every facial muscle so still, but you can tell by the way he says it, his posture, too. Or maybe it’s intuitive. Maybe you’ve been with him for so long that even after you lose your memories, you still know how to read his body language. 

“It is nice,” you agree, though nothing truly nice has happened yet for you to declare so. 

Silence.

Now you really can’t eat another spoonful of anything. The awkwardness pierces through the air like a knife—and it’s not a butter knife but a butcher knife that does it. So you sit with your clammy hands folded in your lap, wondering for the umpteenth time that if you hadn’t fought so hard to attend the battles, you wouldn’t be here. It’s a selfish thought to have, considering that the man desperate enough to risk his nation’s victory to bring you back is sitting right in front of you. But things will all be better when I get my memories back. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself whenever you miss Solaria. When you get your memories back, maybe you won’t think about Solaria as much anymore. Maybe it’ll all feel like a faraway dream. Just as how you dreamed of Darlae when you lived in Solaria.

“I hope it hasn’t been too boring here alone,” the Darlaean General says, and you can tell he’s trying hard to make the conversation sound natural, which makes you want to try harder as well. 

“I’ve been entertaining myself,” you say, opting to keep your answer a little vague to avoid telling him about your thoughts about Yoongi and your conversations with Doyun (which might put you behind bars in their hospital wing for all you know). “I read one of the stories from a book I found on my desk. Guseul’s Hill? From Tales of the Blackwoods?”

The Darlaean General nods in recognition. “You cherished that book,” he says. Sometimes, it feels like he’s talking to a dead version of you, reminiscing on the lost memories. It makes you feel strange. “Did you enjoy it?” he asks. “Guseul’s Hill.”

“I did,” you say, which is the truth. “It was lovely, though a little sad at first. It reminded me…” you trail off, realizing that you simply cannot tell the General of the Darlaean Army that a Darlaean tale reminded you of Solarian stories.

But he seems to understand what you didn’t say, anyway. He nods, face darkening just slightly. “I’m glad they treated you well.”

You look up—a little too quickly—and meet his dark eyes immediately. “O-Oh,” you whisper, unsure what else to say. Does he expect you to agree with him? But that seems like the wrong move, somehow.

“You don’t have to say anything,” the Darlaean General says. He finally sets his silverware down and daintily dabs the corners of his lips with a dark cloth. “Not if you don’t want to. We used to sit in silence quite often.”

You hate that you find it hard to believe him. And even though his invitation of sitting in comfortable silence sounds quite tempting, you know that the silence would be anything but comforting. So, you decide to ask the lingering question that had been on your mind since you’d met him (or re-met him, you suppose).

“How are you able to read my mind?” 

You’re genuinely curious. Is it a little Darlaean trick? Did you use to be able to read his mind? Is that how the two of you would be able to sit in silence but have entire conversations with each other?

A small smile cracks on his lips again. “I can’t,” is his answer. “But I tend to read things that are intangible.”

“Oh,” you say, but now you have more questions than you began with. 

“You must have more questions.”

He’s doing it again. How does he do it so well? Are you that easy to read?

“I’ll stop,” he offers, “if it’s unsettling.” He searches your face for signs of discomfort.

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s just surprising. That’s all. I… I imagine we used to communicate a lot in silence?”

“Yes,” he says. There’s something nostalgic about the way he says that single word. He must be thinking about all of those silent conversations. And for a second, you feel a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His eyebrows twitch, but that’s the only sign of surprise he gives. “Don’t apologize.”

“But how can I not?” you ask.

“Because it wasn’t your fault,” he replies. It’s the most merciful thing you’ve heard him say. 

“But how would you know that? I surely can’t remember what happened. I surely don’t know how I ended up in Solaria with their uniform on my body. What if it is my fault?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Darlaean General says. 

“But it does,” you say. “I-I’m a stranger to you. I’m not who I was before. And even worse, I betrayed Darlae. I-I—”

“I’ve forgiven you,” he interjects. 

Your eyes widen. And for a few seconds, you’re speechless. “But…”

“You’re hard on yourself,” he says. “Even now.”

“Because even if you forgive me,” you say, “it wouldn’t undo the pain I’ve caused the Darlaeans…” You hesitate. “M-My…My own people.”

“You’ll make it up to them,” he replies. “After you regain your memories.”

But it’s not that simple, you want to say. It can’t be that simple. As soon as you recall your life in Darlae, you’re supposed to forget about Solaria? Just like that? How can you create plans against your friends? Against Yoongi?

Maybe if you were to lose your memories of your time in Solaria, things would be easier. But you would never bargain away what you have… had with Yoongi. You would never bargain away those memories, those feelings, those early mornings and late nights. It’s a traitorous thought, and the guilt must be plastered all over your face because the next thing you know, the Darlaean General speaks again.

“You’ve always enjoyed fairytales,” he says. “We used to read them together in the castle libraries.” His speech slows down as he begins to recall the events in his mind. “If no one stopped us, we could’ve spent circas inside, just reading.”

You’re thankful that he’s changing the topic for you. In a strange way, he really does seem to care about your comfort. You respond with a polite smile, “I suppose some things never change. Do you still read often?”

“Not as much as before,” the Darlaean General replies. “When I do, it’s mostly history books and strategy sheets. But I was never an avid fairytale reader like you. I stuck to my textbooks and encyclopedias, which you claimed were tedious.” There’s a lilt to his voice that makes you think he’s joking, but you can never be too sure with him. How does he always speak without a single lick of emotion on his face?

“You must have a great deal of knowledge, then,” you say. “A walking encyclopedia, if you will.”

His lips twitch upwards; it’s not even a full smile, but the single movement makes you feel pleased with yourself. If he’s reacting to your joke, he mustn’t hate you! (At least, you hope so.) He’s just a little hard to crack, to get to know. So for the rest of the evening, you attempt to keep the conversation in good spirits. Yet, the atmosphere still feels askew.

By the time the Darlaean General excuses himself from the dinner, telling you that he doesn’t want to invade your time and space any more than he already has, it is dark outside and you’re mentally exhausted. Turns out, it is extremely difficult to keep a conversation from becoming tense and uncomfortable. You’re sure he’s exhausted, too.

You stand behind the clear glass, fingers grazing against it. It’s ice cold to the touch. Your hand draws back instinctively, but you stay behind the window, gazing outwards. The moon looks further away tonight, despite the fact that you should be closer to it, so far above the ground. And far away, past the dark outlines of the orchard you saw the day before, there are twinkling lights of a nearby sector. They shine in mostly dim yellows and muted reds; from your position in the castle, they look like little fires. If you squint hard enough, you can make out the silhouettes of the Darlaean homes with their strangely sloped roofs and tall statures. If it weren’t so foreign, it would’ve been a beautiful sight. Calming in its own way. 

The moonlight washes over your chambers, bathing the furniture, the walls, the floors in its shine. When you turn around to stare, your back against the cold window, you realize how homely it feels. Or maybe you’re out of your mind. You must be drunk in the moonlight; you’d often work under it back home—no—back in Solaria. So there’s no doubt that it brings you comfort now, even in a different nation.

You lethargically crawl into your bed, body already sinking into the mattress; yet sleep avoids you. Your mind naturally drifts to your recent conversation with the Darlaean General. It hadn’t been as bad as you thought it would be; but then again, you thought it would be terrible. It shouldn’t be a surprise that your low expectations were surpassed. Still, he seems like a reasonable man—dare you say a good person (at least to his nation and the people he cares about). 

But you can’t imagine having loved him. 

There’s a heavy feeling that settles in your gut the moment that thought enters your head. But you can’t help it! He’s… stiff. So rigid. He feels like a person pretending to have a heart. Oh, how mean of you to think that! But to compare him to Yoongi, who pretends like he doesn’t feel much yet wears his heart on his sleeve, who cried when his lieutenant passed, who confessed his feelings for you—

You shouldn’t make such comparisons.

How many times do you have to tell yourself? Things with Yoongi are over.

But you can’t help it.

Even when sleep eventually ends up overtaking your senses, the last thing on your mind is him.

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⨰ a/n: :))) what do you think of the darlaean general so far?

please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!

#jungkook fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #bts fanfiction #thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #btsgoldnet #btshoneyhive #bangtaninn #houseofddaeng #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts angst #magic au #war au #bts series #bts fics #legends of darlaria #lod #been very busy couldn't proofread too well; sorry!

[lilium-dragomir]

#Manhwa #Ibeon Saeng-do Jal Butakae #Ibeon Saeng do Jal Butakae #See You in My 19th Life #Doyun Ha

[gemininc]

   &.&.      ★ ˖ ﹙  MEET THE STARZ.  ﹚  𝄒      ...        

affectionately nicknamed the, "gemini starz", this group of idols are the company's all-star lineup. as the most in/famous trainees to make it out of the conglomerate, these starz are as gemini as it gets. often seen giving each other the cold shoulder in between collab stages, get to know the idols that have managed to hold their own in the gemini empire.

✶ ۫    MABEL  CHEN ,      vocalist & center.

## STAGE NAME — mabel

## LABEL — apricus / kalon : the sound

## GROUP — re:nova ❪ 2016 ❫

## TRAINING PERIOD — five years

## YEARS ACTIVE — 2016 - present

## BEST KNOWN FOR — social media presence

BIO. › thee original it girl. started off as a beauty/lifestyle youtuber in high school and somehow got scouted by claudia and karin in 2011. being a scouted trainee, she went through the company's most rigorous training before they decided she would be a vocalist. her transparency and star power online have carried her to prominence within both china and south korea. as a result of her online presence, she was the first member announced to be part of apricus' experimental fan-controlled girl group, re:nova. since her debut, mabel has never been anything short of the group's most famous member, being voted into every comeback lineup since 2016. perhaps most notably, mabel is best known for her digital web series featuring other gemini idols focused on fashion, beauty, and wellness.

✶ ۫    NIKOM  KASEMSARN ,      vocalist, rapper, dancer.

## STAGE NAME — carter

## LABEL — apricus / studio avos

## GROUP — avos ❪ 2014 ❫

## TRAINING PERIOD — two years

## YEARS ACTIVE — 2013 - present

## BEST KNOWN FOR — acting

BIO. › there's a good reason why carter is often labeled the favorite of the avos boys. he's a hard worker who doesn't take his success lightly. while his work ethic is often used as an excuse for his attitude problem, it's quite clear he takes everything quite seriously. despite originally joining gemini as an actor, he proved his triple threat status by landing an idol trainee slot without an audition. being the first trainee chosen to participate in the survival show generation: avos in 2013, carter was consistently ranked first of all participants, securing the first position within the final group. being conceited was a small price to pay in exchange for the brand deals and castings that have followed carter since his debut in 2014.

✶ ۫    DOYUN  HAN ,      dancer, rapper, center.

## STAGE NAME — doyun

## LABEL — apricus / kalon : the sound

## GROUP — salted.caviar ❪ 2017 ❫

## TRAINING PERIOD — four years

## YEARS ACTIVE — 2017 - present

## BEST KNOWN FOR — choreography

BIO. › doyun has the purest heart with the purest love for the things he cares about. he famously auditioned three times before finally being accepted as a trainee. has worked his ass off to be where he is. also, a classically trained cellist just to add to his many talents. he trained for four years and appeared on avos' survival show but didn't make the final cut before being finally placed in kalon's first group: salted.caviar. he was kind of a late bloomer when it came to proving his belonging within the group and gradually become a fan favorite as he gained confidence. aside from being the label's second-most accredited choreographer, he's salted.caviar's main composer, and most famously the perfect boyfriend.

✶ ۫    QUINTON  ONG ,      drummer.

## STAGE NAME — quinton

## LABEL — solaria gardens / 7.25° noise

## GROUP — chaos theory ❪ 2012 ❫

## TRAINING PERIOD — n/a

## YEARS ACTIVE — 2012 - present

## BEST KNOWN FOR — composing

BIO. › truly the only reason chaos theory is the global hit that it is, quinton's drumming has been compared to rock and roll legends. but his musical talent isn't the only reason he's become the face of solaria and gemini, but his visuals also garnered a lot of attention towards the group. although he's somewhat private on social media, his charisma is never one to beat, being that of a golden retriever, and he's beloved by many. not only that but he also has produced and composed dozens of backtracks for groups in his label, and is considered one of the top composers in the korean music industry as of right now.

✶ ۫    MARGARETTA "PEARL"  YOUNG ,      rapper & face.

## STAGE NAME — pearl

## LABEL — solaria gardens

## GROUP — skeptique ❪ 2013 ❫

## TRAINING PERIOD — six months

## YEARS ACTIVE — 2013 - present

## BEST KNOWN FOR — talk show

BIO. › the talk show host herself, pearl wasn't famous from the get go. instead, she went from being the sweet innocent maknae of her former group, to the honorary leader of skeptique. after becoming a fan favourite through skeptique's variety show, pearl launched her own youtube series and podcast called "moon down" where she talks about anything and everything, and eventually came out through the podcast. in its second season, pearl started having guests from all realms of the entertainment world, including gemini idols, the ceo's, choreographers, and music video directors. pearl showed the public the reality of stardom.

✶ ۫    YUA  NIIKURA ,      vocalist.

## STAGE NAME — yua

## LABEL — solaria gardens

## GROUP — skeptique ❪ 2013 ❫

## TRAINING PERIOD — three months

## YEARS ACTIVE — 2015 - present

## BEST KNOWN FOR — social media presence

BIO. › yua's fame was always strong. originally known as the ice queen, yua was an olympic protege until winning gold in women's skating in the 2014 winter olympics. only a month after the olympics, yua quit asking and had her manager contact gemini for an audition and was placed straight into solaria gardens for her audition, which was rare compared to the rest of her trainee class. yua debuted in skeptique in 2015 and became one of the group's most popular faces. yua's stardom was quick and she launched her youtube channel "idol with yua" which was mostly vlogs of her idol life. yua's vlogs not only captured her own life but all of her friends and idols that weren't usually shown in the limelight.

#✶ ꜛ ﹏ ❛ TWIN LIGHTS : gemininc: geminids #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop idol #fictional kpop company #kpop fic #fictional idol community #fictional idol company #fictional idol oc #oc idol #idolverse #fictional idol group #kpop fanfic #fictional oc community

[theactualsunshinechild]

I think the funniest thing about Jimmy Bae is that he IS actually like, a really strong guy and a great fighter. He is a freaking monster even to experienced fighters! His ego has plenty of basis!

But we keep watching this dude take L after L so we can't help but forget he's actually strong. But he's only losing because he is surrounded by people who are even more terrifying than him. One has to keep in mind, he may have lost, but he undeniably held out and even gave a run for their money against THE biggest of top dogs in the fighting scene.

He had a crazy close match when pitted against the #4 of Cheongang, Doyun Kim, who is basically Jimmy, but with several more years of experience in him. Doyun is part of a legitimate gang, and a top ranker too, while Jimmy is still in high school. The fact that Jimmy made it a close match should scare us.

Then his most obvious losses were when he picked a fight with Wolf Keum who is three rabid legendary beasts hopped up on adrenaline in a trenchcoat, and, of course, when he was matched against Ben Park who is a colossus that shrugs off bone shattering strikes and hits like a goddamn isekai truck.

Jimmy is an absolute monster, but we as readers are blind to it because he is surrounded by incomprehensible eldritch horrors, and this is why I love him.

#Weak Hero #Jimmy Bae

[wonieleles]

project: stay single — nine : ynwonshipper acc

word count: 430 ! (screenshots below!)

everyone in ms. lee’s third period chemistry class knows that lab days are often more about writing notes and recording data than completing actual experiments, which is probably why y/n and jungwon’s lab mates, nam doyun and kang hyejin, decided to skip again.

initially, the two had no problem with them missing out on labs, but when a four person experiment is left to be done by two people five times, it becomes irritating. upon seeing their message, the two normally sweet and kind students rolled their eyes with frustration.

“not this again,” jungwon scoffed before putting his phone back in his pocket without answering their texts.

“at this point, i’m about to tell ms. lee to swap them out. and i hate confrontation,” y/n added as she grabbed the test tubes and placed them on the test tube holder.

“ha, tell me about it. i’m honestly praying for their downfall because no way are they gonna get the same grades as us while doing absolutely nothing,” jungwon complained.

“me too. anyways though, do you want me to record this time or will you do it again?”

“um, i can do it still.”

“okay.”

after finishing the final steps to the experiment, y/n leaned over towards jungwon to take note of what he was jotting down. she glanced at the paper, trying to copy down the exact words on her own while jungwon sat there, attempting to seem unbother. but the way her face was right in front of his, and it being close enough for him to notice the little mole under her eye, he couldn’t help but stare. because man, was she beautiful.

unbeknownst to the pair, however, was riki and wonyoung huddled together watching the two sit so close that jungwon was all tensed up.

“quick, riki snap a pic of them. it looks like y/n’s resting her head on his shoulder or something,” wonyoung ordered riki.

“got it!” riki cheered after taking a picture of his friend with the girl jungwon “claimed” he didn’t have a crush on. “man, why do they look so cute and lovey dovey together like that?”

“i don’t know, but she’s smiling and it’s genuine, so i’m happy he’s making her happy even if it ends up having no romantic motives,” wonyoung answered, still watching the two.

“i’m gonna make a ship account for them.”

“wait what? i thought we’re just gonna tease them for it. oh my god you’re already creating it. what the actual hell nishimura riki, you are going to get killed by them.”

synopsis: when being the youngest and only girl of the park household, strict parents and overprotective brother and cousins are a given. therefore, park y/n sworn off dating until she enters college (not that she had much of a choice). but when the awkward but terribly cute yang jungwon is placed in her lab group, she finds herself wanting to break the number one rule in her family—no dating till college. or maybe they could be just friends, right?

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note: a boring obviously unedited chapter 🤗🤗 anyways tho everyone say thank you to my friend who helped me come up with making the ynwonshipper acc !! and honestly you could probably get the gist of what happened by just looking at the tweets if you didn’t want to read the written part (cause i get it my attention span is terrible too) but i would appreciate if you guys actually read it since i lost sleep writing it el oh el

taglist (open): @brokeprimogems @hoonieswrld @hiqhkey @4yjwonnn @boowoowho @sim-kissed @w0nderr @dstarsz @vantxx95 @harperwasstaken1 @reinahwanggg @bubblytaetae @m1kotsu @annoyingbitch83 @tomorrowbymoa-together @hiyyihland @nyfwyeonjun @lhsng @ritsusakumasgf @titsout4gojo @cupidrwm @yabukkura @nomurahayami @pr0dbeomgyu @sunsunu @taees-stuff @sophhloaff @mina-yoo334 @viagumi @queer-blue-fairy @rionah @injngg @4vonly (italics: couldn’t be tagged)

#enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #jungwon smau #enhypen au #jungwon au #jungwon x reader #enhypen imagines #jungwon imagines #enhypen fics #jungwon fic #enhypen fluff #jungwon fluff #jungwon #park sunghoon #enhypen jay #kim sunoo #enhypen jake #enhypen niki #lee heeseung #park jisung

[xo-lesserafim]

SEE YOU IN MY 19th LIFE

BASED /INSPIRED BY Lee Hey’s webtoon.

Each chapter is based off netflix’s episode for syim19thl

Go see your 18th life.

“I like you.”

SYNOPSIS: Shin Y/n has an amazing ability, she can remember her past lives. In her 18th life, she met Park Sunghoon. After her life was cut short by a car crash. Her goal in her 19th life? Find Park Sunghoon, and make him fall in love with her. But will her past lives’s memories make it harder to make Sunghoon fall in love with her? Or will it benfit into making him fall for her?

PAIRINGS: Mun Seoha! Sunghoon x Ban Jieum! yn

GENRE: See you in my 19th life au, director! sunghoon, staff!yn

WARNINGS: Angst, swearing?, blood, mentions of death, mentions of being stabbed, nightmares, mentions of car crash mentions of murder, mentions if mistress (more to add.)

FT: secretary! Ha Doyun! jake from enhypen and Yoon/Yun Chowon! Chaewon from le sserafim

WC: ?

STATUS: in planning / making

STARTED PLANNING/MAKING: 07/02/23

STARTED: mm/dd/yy

ENDED: mm/dd/yy

DENI: Hi guys! I made this because I was inspired by the person who made the smau for business proposal. Anyway please enjoy this and my other fanfic!!

Ready to see your past memories?

1. Happiness, Sadness, Pity, and Joy.

2. The Will to finish what you’ve started.

3. The agony of parting with the one you’ve love

4. The inability to forgot about the one you long for

5. Am I the butterfly or is the butterfly me?

6. The spot in one’s heart from longing.

7. ??

8. ??

9. ??

10. ??

11. ??

12. ??

Ready to stop seeing at past memories?

Go back to your 19th life.

TAGLIST: @chaewon-slays @lysira340

(send an ask or comment!)

Copyrights © 2023 xo-lesserafim. All rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost anything without my permission. I do not own the series, See you in my 19th life, netflix does. <3

#x reader #xo lesserafim #sunghoon #enha sunghoon #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x yn #sunghoon park #enha sunghoon smau #smau #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon smau #sunghoon smau #enha park sunghoon #park sunghoon smau #enha imagines #enha smau #enha sunoo #enha fanfic #enha x reader #enha jay #enha heeseung #enha jungwon #enha niki #enhypen #enha fluff #enha #enhypen smau #enhypen fake texts #enhypen jay