#cheong ha

[lil-black-kitty]

So far Twinkling Watermelon is the drama which one can enjoy more than one time easily without getting bored

[deathb4disko]

from that one meme going around rn o7

bonus:

[milkbreadtoast]

Oh my god.......

[enihk-writes]

[hard to recall]

part of the [architect!reader] series can be read together with the other fics or as a standalone

pairing: pbss!chung myung x gn!they/them!reader

will be alternating povs from pbss!chung myung and mhdd!chung myung

summary: a hundred years and a few remnants later

word count: 5.50k

author's note: i got very demotivated towards the end but the og plot was supposed to be reader comes back from work to see mt hua in shambles and they tear down all the buildings they built just to secure funds and that's why the current sect looks so bare, and it's heartbreaking because reader is an architect and this was their life's hard work and cm knows that too and he realised there was virtually nothing left of that could remind him of them, like they put their soul into these structures and now it's gone type of thing,, and in the chaos of the aftermath when there was no one to lead the sect as the remaining elder they have to do it and everyone knows they tried their best and that they died miserable,, cm was supposed to find this out bit by bit through hyun jong and the other current elders... BUT like i said, i got suuuuuper demotivated towards the end because of writer's block so i scrapped the og idea... maybe i might come back to try writing it, but not in this story rn...

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what does it mean to be loved?

what does it take to be loved?

power? fame? money? or was it a good heart?

═══════════════

they've always had a good head on their shoulders. some have said that it was a little too good. poised steady and head held high no matter the situation, had they been able to carry a sword like he, who knows what they could have accomplished?

but alas, they were not destined for such things.

the natural state of their qi clashed with the martial arts of mount hua. like water on fire, and it had left them weaker after each training session. they were lucky, having discovered this flaw early, or else they might have suffered more down the line.

talent is something you nurture to bloom.

he looks at them, eyebrows raised in questioning.

i'm going off to see what else i can do.

and just like that, they left. nothing much changed in his life. though, sometimes, he does feel as though it wasn't as noisy as it should have been. it's almost like there was a hard-to-ignore scratch on a perfectly polished marble.

the food tasted more bland now that they weren't watching over the cooks with an iron fist. the clothes didn't feel as crisp now, since the ones on duty these days didn't leave it out in the sun for as long as they used to. and dust was now left to collect in corners until it became too much to ignore, it wasn't like that when they were here — they would have gone down on their hands and knees to clean those annoying places obsessively.

he also might have missed that there was someone who talked to him like a peer, an actual peer, over most of the others who either talked to him like a child, their unreliable junior, someone to be feared and respected. it's nice to have someone your age to talk to, and he never really thought he needed that sort of companionship until they were gone.

well, he doesn't mind waiting. he was a pretty hard worker too, and wouldn't it be a little embarrassing for him if he had nothing to show for when they came back?

three years flew by so quickly, and he walks up to the front gates one unassuming day to find them reaching over to knock on the door.

he was a little shocked.

well, not shocked in the ah sense. but in the ahhhhh sense.

when they stood next to each other side-by-side, his mood went a little sour when he sees that they were still not much different in their height. he was hoping that he had grown more then they did.

welcome back.

mmh, i'm home~

he didn't ask about what they've been up to in the past three years while they were wandering across the country.

the elders seemed pleased when they all walked out of that long meeting, the elder in charge of the finance hall in particular looked a little happier than when he walked into the room.

huh. he would be lying if he said that this didn't make him wonder what happened to them in the past three years.

still, he kept his mouth shut, preferring to watch from the sidelines instead. grinning at them when they walked over in his direction, slinging an arm over their shoulders, annoying them like they hadn't ever left home.

dinnertime was noisy, the table where they sat was swarming with so many other disciples — all wanting to hear of their stories of the outside world. chung myung can't blame the others much, most of them weren't allowed to leave the sect grounds until they reached a certain age.

oh, him? he didn't get permission either, he just does it because he never cared about the rules. and it was this mindset that had all his seniors and other elders of the sect rubbing their temples in exasperation.

he watched from across the dining hall, chin propped in his hand, as the littlest ones tried to garner their attention by pawing at their thigh with small and chubby hands.

they laughed at the children's antics, carrying the youngest up from the ground, resting her on their lap as she was lulled to sleep against their chest. for a moment, they caught chung myung's gaze, looking at each other through the gaps between the crowd of people. they smile shyly at him, looking away when one of the older sect sisters asks them something.

chung myung's lips pull into a thin line, looking down at his half-empty plate of food awkwardly.

he wasn't sure why he wished for a moment that they were the only ones there in the dining hall then. maybe he wasn't used to having to share them with anyone, it was always just the two of them. with how chung myung was so quick to pick fights, nobody his age wanted to hang around him. only they had the patience to even try. and because of that, they slowly lost their friends — because if anybody wanted to be friends with chung myung, that person surely had something wrong with them.

he felt bad. knowing that he was the reason why nobody wanted to associate with them was a shitty feeling. he tried to chase them away in the beginning, never resorting to hurting them but he wasn't ever nice to them either.

go away!

nuh-uh!

that was always the way they greeted each other back then. he would hide from them in the tallest cupboards in the kitchen or in the trees or even the rooftops but they must have learnt something from his chung mun sa-hyung with how they still caught him each time effortlessly.

right.

this is how it's supposed to be. seeing them surrounded by so many people, all looking at them in awe and wonder. this was how they should have lived all this time.

the usual appetite he had vanished. pushing the food away, chung myung gets up to leave, slipping away into the cold night and away from the action.

white puffs of air float upwards at each exhale, gravel crunched under his feet as he drags them to bring him back to his room. he doesn't make it far though — there was a pitter-patter of light footsteps coming his way. he sighs and chuckles to himself.

he would know that sound of footsteps anywhere.

looking over his shoulder, he sees that the toddler sleeping soundly in their arms. it was amazing, how they managed to carry the child running without waking her up from all that shaking. he wonders for a moment if...

chung myung-ah.

he tilts his head.

let's put her to bed. she must be tired from staying awake for so long, poor baby.

he listens to them coo softly over the little girl's nose scrunching up from the cold. chung myung curiously pokes at the mounds of fat stored on the child's cheeks, snickering when the kid frowns in their sleep, grunting in protest.

they gasp and slaps his hand away.

hey! don't do that!

they whisper-yell, cradling the fussing baby's head closer to their chest, shushing her cries. rocking their arms, hoping the child would go back to sleep, which she thankfully did.

chung myung only looks away from their accusatory gaze.

═══════════════

there used to be a nursery a little aways from the main dorms.

it wasn't there anymore. much like most of the buildings that used to stand here in mount hua back in its heyday.

it was just one of the many little things that had been torn down from trying to salvage sellable materials. that was nothing more than a product of time, and the actions taken by a sect struggling to feed the mouths living there.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

why would you do something this pointless?

chung myung couldn't understand them. he leans against the wall with his arms crossed, talking to them through their window, with him on the outside as they were drawing out lines on a parchment paper by candlelight.

hm... but i don't think it's pointless though?

they state simply, not once looking up from their work. feeling neglected, chung myung whines a little. they were finally back after a good few years and now that he wanted to spend time with them, they're too busy? please look at me. he wants to say, beg even.

you're awfully clingy these days.

he hears their breathy chuckle. and the corners of their eyes crinkle up, lips barely hiding that wide toothy smile he'd missed seeing. though, it looked less childish than he last remembered. that's right. they're both grown up now, they're both adults now.

he wishes that they could be kids forever.

mostly because kids don't think too hard or dwell too long on things that hurt their brains. and whatever new winds that have begun to sail on the ship since they've returned to mount hua, was bringing them to a different destination than he thought they'd end up. he wasn't going to gamble on the possibility that they might have taken notice of this subtle change like he did too. all these thoughts hurt his head.

he listens to the sounds of the calligraphy brush dragged across the paper, tingles travelling up to his brain. it was late, he should be back in bed... but...

ahh...hnn...

chung myung yawns, not bothering to be polite around someone he's known his whole life. he hears them giggle again, but this time, they set their brush aside. leaning across the table, their fingers fiddled with something, soft clanks of wood bumped into each other for a moment before the window was finally thrown open.

come inside.

they call out to him with that same soft smile.

woah there! you shouldn't be inviting a man into your private quarters so easily like this! what if he misunderstands something... this is so intimate you know...

he gasps dramatically, even if this wasn't his first time in their room, this was his first time in their room as an adult. it was very much a significant thing to him.

they laugh again.

...you jest. we're friends, what's there to misunderstand?

ah. of course. they were only friends. nothing more, nothing less. what was there to get confused about?

he wordlessly climbs in through their window. taking off his boots before putting his foot down on their pristine floorboards. it's hard to forget about that time they scolded his ear off for dirtying the floor they had freshly cleaned.

you still remember to take your shoes off huh?

they mumble quietly.

you don't have to do that anymore though. i'm not as nit-picky as i used to be. i can always clean it up again.

he thinks they've certainly changed quite a bit.

his thoughts wander more, but his gaze never once leaving the drawings that came into being on the paper. thin and thick lines that formed into what he recognised as the entire scale layout of the current mount hua seen from above. he marvels at their small drawings of furniture in each of the miniature rooms.

he moves to stand behind them, eventually sitting on their bed after changing into the spare set of sleeping attire they've kept in their wardrobe just for him.

as the night wore on, he finally succumbs to his tired state, burrowing under the covers of their bed. he calls out to them to go to bed too, but it seems they've chosen to ignore him in favour of their work. he didn't have half the mind to try again — not when they had that look in their eye. it was almost like a possession, some innate obsession that they'd somehow unearthed within themselves in the three years they were gone.

he doesn't remember them ever being like that. if anything, they were the most laid-back person he's ever known. with no particular ambition, no wants beyond what they needed... not much plans for their future. he didn't know what happened to them before they decided to leave, he still hasn't asked them about what happened in the time they were away. they've changed, and deep down he feels a little bitter for getting left behind, falling asleep with those thoughts running in his mind.

the next time he woke up, it was the beginning of daybreak. the room was still dark even with the sky slowly turning into a pale violet. he felt the covers lift and they climbed into bed as quietly as they could, not realising chung myung was very much awake.

ah!

they gasp, startled by the red of his irises staring right at them from under the blanket's dark shadows.

you scared me...

they mumble and whine tiredly, falling into his chest, his outstretched arms circling their waist, pulling them closer.

m'sorry...

his lips ghost on the crown of their head, a hand hesitates to cradle the back of their neck. what if that was too much? sure, they've huddled together under the covers on cold mornings like this countless times before... but they were younger then. now, things have changed. but maybe it's more him than they, or it was both.

he could think about that later. right now, he feels so warm and relaxed he feels himself drifting back to sleep again.

═══════════════

that day when he had dug into the ground to find the secret vault for the ledgers, he just barely missed the pile of scrolls sitting on the bottom of the bookcase.

he got curious, opened them and saw a set of familiar drawings.

the lines were faded from a vibrant black to a faint grey and the parchment had also turned a little yellow on the edges. his fingers traced over the writing at the corner of the paper. it was a signature of that person's name. he tries and fails to remember the way their hands held onto that brush they'd often used.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

recently, the elders have been discussing about what to do with some of the main halls.

you see, they've neglected the management of the buildings in favour of setting aside the budget for other matters like investing in expanding the local businesses or other miscellaneous affairs. they'd figured there wasn't really a need to keep up with building maintenance, not when these halls have been standing well and good for the past few centuries.

though the main issue now was that there was a wee bit of a nothing-too-serious case of termite infestation going on in the wooden frames on a select few of the said buildings. ugh, more work everyone around.

oh! but it's not for chung myung though!

he remained blissfully unaware about the current plight of a certain person until he comes across them slumped against the outer walls of the back gates, head in their hands.

hey...

there was a slight hesitation in his voice.

hm?

they look up to meet his worried gaze with a confused, sheepish smile. loud growling of their stomach interrupting the moment.

he feels his irritation grow. seriously! they were old enough to take care of their own needs! no sane person would choose to ignore those needs to keep on working!

nausea hits them hard when chung myung pulls them to their feet, the world around them spins as their knees grow weak and buckle. thank god for his reflexes, catching them before they fall to the ground — but now what?

he does what chung myung does best.

throwing the poor and sick, now his supposed patient, over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

they don't even bother fighting back instead, they fade in and out of the intense feeling of wanting to throw up on chung myung or passing out — wondering to themselves if this guy was genuinely trying to put them to an early grave.

put me down...

nuh-uh. you need to eat.

they groan in exasperation.

and they passed out soon after.

in the days following that fainting scare, everyone agrees to take a step back. probably feeling guilty that they were driving one of their own like a workhorse. but that isn't enough to stop someone who's a known workaholic. chung myung doesn't remember them being like this before.

though a friend was a friend, and he shoves down the ugly feeling slowly brewing in the pit of his gut to take care of them. he was dependable when he wanted to be. just don't expect it to happen every time.

he knew the corners of the sect they liked to be, and in each of those corners, he'd put down his clumsily made step-stools — uneven and shaky, made from scrap pieces of branches and logs he found. it wasn't the best workmanship in the world, though they were delighted that he did this for them nonetheless.

not long after, there was a second, more polished and well-made stool that stood next to each and every one of those misshapen ones. and in the duo's later years, a third one was added to the lineup.

it was a common sight for the younger disciples to see two of their elders and another guy hunched over, roasting water chestnuts by the back gate like a bunch of delinquents until sect leader chung mun would drag their two elders by the collar as the third person trailed behind sheepishly.

═══════════════

the back gates once made out of brick and stone had been torn down with only a low fragmented outline left behind. chung myung walks around that area until he stumbles on a mound of dirt by a wall still standing.

curiously, he kicks off the top layers of soil, revealing a splintered and rotting piece of wood. the more he unearths, the more the mound begins to take the shape of three step-stools.

his mouth waters at the smell of roasted chestnuts wafting from the kitchen. he hasn't had that in a while.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

loud banging noises from dawn till midday were the norm this past week.

almost everyone bit their tongues from complaining. it was a necessary process, after all. even the elders held back from commenting on the ruckus. of course they did, this whole mess was their fault! who asked them to neglect building maintenance!

they were perched on a bamboo scaffolding, mumbling curses under their breath. straining to pull out rotted wood, trying not to squirm at the disgusting look of wet mold. cleaning out the gaping holes and filling them out one by one was a cheapskate way really — but what the elders ask for, they had to deliver. no matter how tiresome the job was, they have to prove themselves.

somewhere in the back of their mind, a voice was always condemning them. telling them over and over on repeat how useless they were, not being able to pick up on the basic skill of using a sword in a martial arts sect. the odd one out, the nail that stuck out, the stubborn thorn that got on the soles of one's foot. all descriptors that applied to them. their master, a man whose name they didn't want to speak of, was a cruel one. they always felt like a freeloader, taking and taking like a parasite, his words, what use did they have other than being another mouth the sect had to feed?

just as the rest of the world faded into a blur, a familiar voice cuts through the fog of their spiralling thoughts.

he calls out to them, face red from a combination of alcohol, running away from the seniors and the heat of summer. he clamours up the scaffolding with a small basket and a bottle of wine, trying to hide himself from view.

you aren't expecting me to hide you from our seniors... are you?

chung myung laughs nervously.

i'm not going to lie to someone to cover your ass.

urgh... you sound like those shaolin monks talking about the five virtues of righteousness...

they were about to snap back when a flurry of footsteps came their way — chung myung retreats further into the shadows, stilling from making any more noise. they glance over at him, before turning over to continue with their work.

a few of the junior brothers stop at the foot of the scaffolding, panting a little. the boys look up to their senior, nudging amongst themselves to ask the whereabouts of their other runaway senior.

uh, senior... have you seen...

the timid voice of the junior was interrupted by the loud banging of the hammer against the wood. and every time there seemed to be an opening, the banging quickly resumed again.

the boys decided to just give up and report to the elders that they'd lost track of their runaway senior. grumbling amongst themselves about how they've wasted their time.

chung myung remained in his spot, only coming out when the coast was completely clear. all while they were still hard at work, pulling out the wood, and filling out the holes.

he reached into the basket, plucking out a kumquat from the bunch. he blows the dust off it and wipes it clean before nudging the fruit to the other's lips.

open your mouth... ahhh...

the kumquats were just as sweet and tart as expected. they chew on it thoughtfully, gathering the seeds under their tongue to spit it out. chung myung's hand moves to hover under their chin, and they raise an eyebrow in question.

you can spit the seeds on my hand.

ew. that's so disgusting. what are you? a pervert?

the man looks at them indignantly. urgh, they were so rude! it's even worse than when they first left mount hua! to have believed life outside shaanxi would have changed this block-head potty-mouthed person was a pipe dream after all!

you... you're cussing me out, aren't you?

chung myung shakes his head quickly, knowing they weren't above tattling to their elders if he pissed them off. he's known this first-hand since childhood, and it doesn't seem like things were going to change in adulthood either.

you can buy my silence with some of those mooncakes you have or with the mandarin oranges in the basket.

he sucks in a breath. they were asking for his favourite mooncakes... they were so cruel... evil, evil bastard! what friend? this was clearly the devil in disguise, maybe he should have brought talismans to test that theory...

oi.

he grumbles in defeat, getting to work by diligently peeling the skin off the mandarin oranges, splitting the fruit into its little segments, and feeding it to them piece by piece with slices of mooncake in-between each fruit to cleanse their palate.

mmh... our chung myungie can be such a good boy too eh~

shut up!

they cackle and drown out his insults with the loud banging.

═══════════════

the sect had been gifted a few carts of mandrin oranges by the merchant guild. chun myung had taken a few to snack on in his free time, and as he peels the skin off the fruit, he thinks about how nice it'd be to have someone to share these little slices with.

he bites on a piece.

it was sweet, but not like he remembered. and there was also a bitter aftertaste that left him feeling emptier than before.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

war was such a devastating thing.

beyond the obvious loss of lives, there was also the grief gained from seeing someone who is still alive and kicking lose all that made them... them.

chung myung hasn't been himself in a long, long time. he barely remembers through the haze of liquor-induced stupor the type of person he used to be before this endless bloodshed. he smiled less, got agitated more often, and even for someone who had always seemed to attract wayward troublemakers this was all too much. he wonders what went wrong, did that person also notice something was wrong with him?

no. that person surely noticed. they were an architect for god's sake — being observant was part of their job description. he wanted to ask them why they hadn't been so hard on him like everyone else. the tension hanging in the air had made the sa-hyungs lash out at him, he somehow became the scapegoat that took on the blame for the smallest errors. not that he minded, he understood they didn't mean it, but it doesn't make it any less hurtful.

myung-ah.

he looks up, eyes clouded over and dazed. a vaguely familiar figure makes their way towards him, talking with someone, presumably the tavern owner, in hushed voices before a hand caresses his head gently. chung myung leaned into the touch, it was as comforting as it always was. he hasn't been seeing them as often as he'd like these days... he frowns at the realisation.

myung-ah. let's go home.

he groans as he feels them lean him against their shoulder. he's been told he smells like plum blossoms, most of the other swordsmen that practised the plum blossom divine arts did too — but they didn't, and he becomes curious about what they smell like. nuzzling his nose into the side of their head, he catches a whiff of what could only be described as laundry left under the sun.

this person... how was it possible for someone to be this comforting in every aspect of their being? it doesn't make sense, they were human were they not? how was someone able to have such a clear mind at all times? even chung mun sa-hyung slipped up once in a while, losing his patience, just like he did earlier today when he chastised chung myung for not taking things as seriously as he should have been.

do you... do you also think i haven't been doing my best?

he mumbles under his breath, voice strained and cracking just a little. he felt his stomach drop, out of nervousness or dread, he wasn't sure. maybe it was even both.

the two stop walking. they were at the foot of the steps leading up to the front gates. he looks at them, afraid to hear what their answer would be. he tries to laugh off his question, peeling himself off them and was just starting to go up the steps when he feels their hand grip at the back of his uniform.

they pull him back towards them and hesitantly pushed him to sit. chung myung watched the expressions on their face morph through the gaps of his hair hanging over his eyes. he was the most terrified he had ever been in his life — ever since he'd come to terms with the fact that he saw the person standing before him as someone more than a family or a friend, any prospect of them thinking of him in a negative light was enough to have him running with his tail between his legs.

he dare not say he was in love with them. not when he held so much unresolved resentment towards them for leaving him behind. he wished, still to this day that they hadn't gone off to find what they were good at. they should have stayed within the walls of the sect, they should have stayed here with him, where they would have never bloomed their talents and made everyone want to take them away from him. they could have been all his if they stayed, and he could have held them as close as he wanted, envelop them with his whole being. his love, all his, his, his.

chung myung-ah.

he tried not to make a face.

our chung myung works hard in his own way. i don't know about the others, but i do. i know you have your own ways of working hard.

they brushed his hair back, tucking some strands behind his ear. he hated it. he hated how it made him melt under their fingertips, hated how even after all these years he didn't have the courage to admit to something this simple.

they didn't know all of him. if they did would they still touch him this tenderly?

his hands find their waist, and then their hips. musing at the way their pupils dilated and shook, he tugged them towards him. they stumble over their feet, falling into his chest. there was a stupid grin plastered all over his face as the other tried to get up from the embarrassing position. his arms circle around them, pulling them in once more, setting them on his lap.

...you're drunk. you know that right?

they push away his face that had been inching closer. he holds their hand covering his mouth, pressing his lips against the inside of their palm — kissing it once, twice, a few more times until he felt satisfied, before moving their hand to rest on his cheek. he rubs his sand-papery jaw against their smooth palm, the tip of his nose tracing their wrist, thumb pulling down the long black bracer so his lips could reach the thumping vein lying under the thin layer of skin.

their breath hitches as his teeth grazes over their wrist, he ponders for a moment before biting down on the flesh. hard enough that they wince, whimpering softly, but not enough to draw up blood. they feel the back of their ears grow heated, not really wanting to find out whether it was from embarrassment or arousal. hitting at his shoulder with their free hand, they chide him for doing something so indecent out in the open, where anyone could see.

do you hate it?

that's not the point!

but... you don't hate this... right?

they turn away from his prying gaze. he wasn't wrong, they didn't hate that he was doing this. it's just... what if...

chung myung clicks his tongue. with a snap of his fingers, the alcohol in his system leaves completely in a translucent haze. he scoffs at the way their nose crinkled in disgust from the overpowering smell. he cradles their face into his chest, saving them from their little predicament. now sober, he agrees that he had been a little too carried away, so he digs his heels to the ground and kicks off into the air — still carrying them in his arms, jumping on rooftops until he reached the front of his private residence.

he refused to let them down even as he walked inside, despite their balled fist thumping on his shoulder. using that same scolding tone, still said in a soft voice, not once raising it in annoyance or anger.

with wide strides and feet falling heavily on the wooden floorboards, he locks every door and window in the residence — just in case someone becomes too nosy. tense body only relaxing in an exhale when they were both in the privacy of his bedroom. setting them down on the soft covers, he kneels at their feet, resting his chin lightly on the plush of their thigh, mumbling about how sorry he was for the roughness earlier.

it's okay.

their hands work their way through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, cupping his cheek and turning his face up towards them.

chung myung was a beautiful man.

he knows it, but their look of quiet admiration made the blood rush to his face. he wasn't used to seeing someone look at him so lovingly, not when men and women would throw themselves on him from the lust they felt, not when most people closest to him always had a furrow on their brow from the antics he pulled. this was so new to him, he didn't dare move, lest it broke this tender moment.

have they ever looked at anyone like this?

probably not, he thinks, closing his eyes to savour the smooth pad of their thumb drawing circles on his cheek. smile tugging up the side corner of his mouth as the scent of the sun grows a little closer, their lips brushing over the hard lines on his face, his sun-kissed skin.

═══════════════

he doesn't have a lot of joys in this second life.

though there was one that everyone around him seemed to have picked up on. it was strange that someone as seemingly money-hungry as he was found content in the simplest things — his bedding washed in plum-blossom-scented soap, freshly dried to a crisp under the blazing sun.

what the others don't see was how behind the closed doors of his sleeping quarters he would hold onto the sheets so tightly in his grip his knuckles turned white. burrowing his face into the fabric, he breathed in deeply, trying to recall the face of his sun.

a hazy figure, a blurry visage.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

[insensible-waters]

Sketch I did earlier of our favorite old man

And my kinda halfassed attempt at coring it that ended up with a very different vibe than what id intended when I started

I originally just wanted to practice coloring his hair and then I ended spending the least amount of time and effort on that in the end, Oopie ig

[mounthuatruther]

[quack-quack-snacks]

Star Crossed - Prologue

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Rude behavior from a non-canon character, Su-hyeok being the best little lovely boy that he is, lmk if there are any more! Word Count: 2,437

Being the little sister of one of the biggest bullies in the school was not the best for your life in the classrooms. Although there were some benefits like nobody messing with you and getting protection from the rest of the bullies in the school, you were lonely. Nobody messing with you also meant nobody wanted to get near you in fear of your brother. Every day, you would watch the students of the school gather in their groups for lunch and laugh together and the lonely, empty feeling you had would grow. 

You were a sophomore now but the treatment from the people around you wasn’t new. Being a year younger than your brother also meant that he had involved himself in the bullying before you had even joined the school yet. You were outcasted from the very beginning. 

Although you technically always had a seat at lunch with your brother and his friends, you didn’t want to be any more associated with them than you had to. You loved your brother, of course, he’d been the one there for you since the beginning especially since your mother was absent and your father hardly gave the two of you the time of day, but you couldn’t stand the fact that he involved himself in that crowd, especially when he himself just got pushed around by the people within it. 

You never had any friends…

Until him.

Lee Su-hyeok.

One day, when you were sitting by yourself at lunch, headphones plugged in with your music playing loudly to keep the noises of the students in the cafeteria room having fun - and you not being involved - at bay, you didn’t notice the boy approaching your table until he sat down across from you. He gave you a small but genuine smile when you looked up at him in shock before pointing to your headphones and motioning for you to take them out. You took them out hesitantly, unsure of what he wanted from you. 

You weren’t oblivious to who he was. After all, he was friends with your brother and, therefore friends with the school’s bullies. The whole school pretty much knew who he was, and although he was different from the rest of the group, kinder and never really fighting unless they deserved it, you still weren’t sure of him. 

“Hi,” he started with an unsure tone to his voice.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice practically miming his with your own unsureness peeking through. 

“Sorry, this might be weird. I just…” he scratched the back of his neck as he looked away sheepishly, obviously not planning past the point of sitting next to you. 

‘Cute,’ you thought before scolding yourself as you remembered who exactly he was. 

His hand suddenly shot out in front of him toward you. “I’m Su-hyeok,” he said in a way that made it seem like he was trying to convince you it was his name. 

You let out a small laugh before extending your own hand to shake his, “I believe you.”

He blushed but let out a small grin.

“I’m (Y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet yo-"

“Oi! Su-hyeok!” He got cut off by his name being called from across the cafeteria. The both of you looked over to see Son Myeong-hwan calling out to him with your brother, Gwi-nam, standing next to him with an annoyed look on his face. 

“It’s okay,” you started before he could even open his mouth when he looked back at you. You gave him a small, reassuring smile, but you could tell he could see the disappointment lingering beneath it. “You should probably get back to your friends. I’ll see you around, yeah?” With that, you put your headphones back in and went back to eating, ignoring the way the small spark of remaining hope in your soul diminished when he got up and walked away. 

As you watched him sit down at the table where his friends were, rolling your eyes when Gwi-nam smacked him over the back of the head, that spark reflamed when he turned around to look at you and gave you a smile and a secret wave when he saw you already looking. 

Ever since that day, you saw him more and more often. You found yourself looking for him in the halls and noticing he had more than a few classes with you. Every day, without fail, he would give you your favorite snack right after your first class ended. 

“I overheard you telling your brother once that you were always hungry in our second class so I used to just leave these on your desk but now I think just giving them to you might be better.”

“B-but, I started getting those months ago?” You questioned him in confusion.

He just smiled before walking away.

It was so surprising to figure out he noticed you before you even officially met and even more surprising that he seemed to care enough to make sure you stayed fed. 

He was like a drop of rain during a drought. It had been so long since you’d had a friend that you forgot what it was like to have someone other than your brother care about you. 

It was refreshing.

When Su-hyeok finally got the courage to leave Myeong-hwan and his friend group, you were so relieved. The two of you had spent countless nights staying up way past your bedtimes spending hours on the phone talking and one night he confessed that he actually didn’t want to be in the group. He just didn’t really have anyone else. He entered the school alone and was instantly seen by Myeong-hwan who took him in. 

You’d wished he would be able to get out ever since you met, so when he told you he had made another friend you were ecstatic. You were so happy for him until you realized what that meant. 

You would be alone again. 

It’s not like he would bother sticking around now that he had actual friends outside of you, right?

You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

The day after he told you, you had spent the morning sulking and trying your best to avoid him, not wanting him to feel pressured to keep your friendship alive now that he had real friends. When lunch came, however, he sat down at your usual table where you always spent lunch alone. When you were about to get up and leave, he grabbed your wrist gently and looked at you with a sad pleading gaze. 

“Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something?” He looked so sad as he asked and you felt so guilty.

Looking down and picking at your food, you told him. “I just didn’t want you to have to go through the trouble of telling me you don’t want to be friends with me now that you have your own friends.” You raised your head to look him in the eyes. “Su-hyeok, you don’t have to feel pressured to hang around me.”

His mouth hung open in disbelief and he sputtered before deciding to stand up and move to your side of the table.

“(Y/n), did it ever occur to you that I was friends with you because I wanted to and because I liked being your friend?”

The look of pure shock that you gave him broke his heart. He sighed and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in a hug - something you hadn’t had in a long time. 

Although Gwi-nam was a good brother, he wasn’t a touchy one, so hugs were off the table. 

After the hug ended, Su-hyeok invited you to go over and sit with his friends but you couldn’t bring yourself to agree. You knew what your reputation was. How it made you seem to be: spoiled; rude; entitled. Despite no one - besides your brother and his friend group as well as Su-hyeok - actually knowing you, they all assumed the worst of you. Despite knowing Su-hyeok had his own reputation, you couldn’t find it in you to bring him down with yours. 

That was a little less than a year ago. Although you and Su-hyeok continued to remain friends, you refused to be around him in public and continued to stick to yourself when in school. 

“You’ll just drag yourself down if you hang around me, I don’t want that for you,” you would tell him every time he tried to change your mind. No matter how much convincing he did, he was never successful at changing your mind. 

In order to try to change the minds of your fellow students without the help of anyone else, you tried joining the Student Council.

There, you met Choi Nam-ra.

Although she had told you that her spot as Student President was just being paid for by her mother, you didn’t let it change the way you saw her. There was so much more to her than what met the eye and to be honest it didn’t surprise you. You knew what reputations and rumors did to how people were perceived considering you yourself were a victim of said reputations and rumors. Although awkward and blunt at times, she turned out to be a very kind and caring person who didn’t hesitate to call anyone out if they talked shit about you behind your back.

She would say the same for you. 

Nobody could speak badly about Nam-ra and get away with it in your presence. Although you were not a violent person by any means, you had a glare that rivaled that of your brother’s. Not to mention the tone you used with them if they were being a dick. 

Some people were scared shitless of you - not even just because of your reputation as the youngest of the Yoon family. 

Which is why you were surprised to figure out that you had been elected as the Student Vice President a few months after meeting Nam-ra.

She'd told you the news with a small smile on her face and gave you a quick hug, telling you how proud she was of you. She never told you but you were sure that she used some form of her Student Body President powers to get the position. Regardless, you were happier than ever to have a friend and a role in the school that didn’t consist of only being known as the bully’s younger sister. 

Your new status consisting of being the Vice President didn’t change the untouchability that came with the old one, if anything it just gave you more untouchability.

However, not all people saw it like that. 

One day, After walking down the hallway to your locker, you were approached by a boy whom you recognized from your first and fourth-period class. He had shaggy dark brown hair that went just past his eyes and he kept shaking his head to keep it out of his eyes. His cheeks were pink as he tapped on your shoulder to grab your attention and scratched the top of his head while you took your headphones out.

“Um… hi?” You whispered out hesitantly. 

“Hi, my name is Yoo Jaehyun. I’m in your first and fourth classes.” He shot his hand out, almost smacking you in the face so you jumped back before hesitantly shaking his hand. 

“It’s… nice to meet you Jaehyun, I’m-”

“I know who you are, (Y/n). Everyone in school knows who you are,” he told you as if it was a compliment but you just frowned and tried to take your hand out of his grip when he tightened his grip. You tried again and looked at him uncomfortably but he just seemed to ignore you as he kept talking. “I just wanted to introduce myself to you and tell you that I would like you to be my girlfriend. I like you and I think we would look good together.”

Finally yanking your hand out of his grasp, your elbow slammed into the lockers behind you painfully. You winced and held your elbow with your other hand as you gave him a slightly apologetic but mainly confused smile.

“But we don’t know each other?” You told him quietly. 

“I don’t need to know you I just like how hot you are. So what do you say, (Y/n)? Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked arrogantly.

You stood there and just looked at him, mortified. The way he said the words sounded more like catcalling than they did as a compliment and you found yourself feeling disgusted at where his palm touched your own just moments before. 

“Um… no… sorry,” you told him, though you were not sorry at all. 

“What? Why?” He asked, his tone becoming louder and more aggressive. 

“I… I just don’t-”

“You know, I always knew you were just a selfish bitch who didn’t care about anyone but herself and her fucking brother. No wonder no one talks to you,” he interrupted you again. “I was just trying to be nice but now that I know your personality is as fake as your spot as Vice President I don’t even want to anymore. You were ugly anyways.”

With that, he walked away. Leaving you to stare at the spot he once stood at and let the tears leave wet streaks down your cheeks as you furiously tried to wipe them away in the empty hallway. Completely giving up on being able to go to class, you decided to go to the girls’ bathroom and spend the rest of the class in there. Luckily it was the last class of the day anyways so you would be able to go home straight away afterward. You would just have to calm yourself down before you saw Gwi-nam or Su-hyeok.

Luckily you had another hour to do that. Texting a lame excuse to Su-hyeok and Nam-ra about why you weren’t in class, you decided to just gather your belongings and just head home alone. 

The next day, word had gotten around to Su-hyeok and Gwi-nam both about the situation. Someone who had been walking by had heard the conversation and started spreading it around. Unfortunately for the boy, Gwi-nam had gotten to him first. Su-hyeok had arrived at the scene just before you did, leading you away as he exchanged a slight nod with Gwi-nam. It seemed people forgot who you really were; who you knew. 

Even after going their separate ways and despising each other, they both could agree on one thing.

No one hurt you and got away with it.

[mallalada]

the sword saint and chung myung

[spaceymarz]

(Twinkling Watermelon ep 13)

YICHAN STRUGGLING TO SEND CHEONGHA A FAX?? FALLING TO THE FLOOR IN FRUSTRATION WITH ALL HIS CRUMPLED UP PAPERS? THE FIGHT, THE WATCHING, THE SKETCHBOOK CONFESSION, THE SONG ALL FOR HER 🤧🤧🤧 AND HE FELL FOR HER BEFORE SEKYUNG EVEN CHOSE EUNGYEOL AH I'M SO EMO 😭😭😭😭😭

the absolute cutest part for me was in the original past, Yichan chased after Sekyung, got rejected, lost his hearing, and THEN dated Cheongah. i was really worried about the butterfly affect (or, in Eungyeol and Eunyoo's case, the bull in a china shop affect) making it so if those things didn't happen, he wouldn't have ended up with Cheongah, but here he goes still choosing her 🥺 here he goes punching abelists for her 🥺 here he goes learning sign language and teaching his friends to greet her 🥺🥺🥺 here is Yichan, who fell in love with Cheongah dispite them being in "diffrent worlds", and immediately showed her off. AND THEY DID ALL OF IT basically by themselves 😭💔💔

+ 5 bonus points for Eunyoo getting happy when Eungyeol told her he started liking "Sekyung" after she came back from the US, so he truly only fell for Eunyoo and not her mom

[milkcos]

i just think they're neat!!

[chungmyungenthusiast]

Concern

Notes I

this is a discontinued wip because I didn't know what to add,, anyways MORE FLUFF!!!! can this count as hurt/comfort except it's literal hurt and confrontation ?? who knows,, more chung myung content while I work on the wips :3

He's staring at you. Ah, no. He's frowning, is he angry? He's also bandaged up, did something happen? "You.." Chung Myung starts, and you swear that you see a pout on his lips. Are you laying on the spare bed in the nearby infirmary? Why is he next to you, though? His fingers gently caress your palm, the harshness of his calloused hand making you shiver, his eyebrows furrowing as he observes your hand. "You shouldn't have done that, really. I would have been fine, you know? And now that you went ahead and blocked that attack… You're laying here instead of me, you're so stupidly dumb." He sighs, his eyes still staring at your hand. You didn't do much though, your injuries are nothing compared to his deep ones. Speaking of which, why isn't he in bed right now? Shouldn't he be resting? "Why would I let it hit you?" "..??? What sort of question is that?" "A genuine one." ... He squints at you, his expression doing that thing where it's as if you just told him you're going to throw yourself off a cliff because you couldn't find your favorite cup. [ You did that once. ] "Because I could've easily blocked it?" "In that position? Chung Myung, you were already injured enough. If that hit you then you could've basically said that death knocked on your door once; if you survived, that is." That, kept him quiet for the next few minutes. "You're the idiot," You chuckle, shaking your head. "Just as much as you hate it if I got hurt-" "I loathe it." He interrupts, still a bit frustrated. You simply look at him with a blank look before sighing. "Okay," You nod, "You loathe me getting hurt. We established that multiple times, right? So, you expect me to not be the same way? We both know how stubborn the other is when it comes to such topics, dumbass. Of course I'll feel the same way."

Notes II

I dug deep into my drafts for this one and just edited it a tad bit so um :D

This is your daily reminder to actually communicate with others if you want the relationship to work /hj.. maybe

Eat this up while I continue to work on the reqs.. there's a lot of fluff to write so uh expect some angst after I finish them up :3

[arkvra]

[Doodle]

Cheong myeong and five swords

Hahaha I just want to share this idea🤣

[i-only-came-for-the-posts]

Jong Yoon and Jo Gul love to act like they hate Cheongmeong but they literally hang out in his room all the time. Like they will be actively talking shit about him while sitting on his bed and staring at him sleeping. Why are you even here

Anyways read The Return Of The Blossoming Blade on Webtoon (◠‿・)—☆

Pls do it nobody else understands me when I talk about it

[still-love-the-moon]

I already knew the sorrow of being a survivor, but I didn't know just how heavy that sorrow would be.

[whenthegoldrays]

honestly when you think about it, Eun Gyeol and Eun Yoo have no idea what they’re going back home to. I don’t know if Eun Gyeol realizes the effect he’s had on his parents’ lives because he’s so focused on the fact that he couldn’t prevent Yichan’s accident. and Eun Yoo does very little in the way of changing her parents’ lives until her talk with Se Kyeong at the very end of the trip (and her talk with Mr. Jonathan), which is so surreal for Se Kyeong that Eun Yoo doesn’t know if it’ll even make a difference. so for all she knows, she’s going back to a reality where her parents are divorced, her dad has moved on, and she and her mom aren’t speaking to each other. so when she goes home, the only person she knows for sure she’ll be able to count on is Eun Gyeol. so of course she needs him to shake off his negative thoughts and come home with her. he’s all she’s got. for a brief period of time, he’s her only family.

[hereforthebrainrot]

The fact that Ha Yichan and Yoon Cheongah fall in love with each other in every timeline is so special to me.