#yoo iseol

[briar-oses]

whiteboard doodles

[irinaharumi]

Distinguished People of Mount Hua

[dlhn00]

[devdozes]

♥ And now you're stuck in my brain

chung myung x reader?? woah modern au :0! Mount hua sect is a national haidong gumdo (korean swordsmanship) team in this au yay

You stood by the edge of the training hall, arms crossed, watching as the so-called ‘new recruit’ was making a complete mockery of the Mount Hua Haidong Gumdo team.

“You call that a stance?” he scoffed, standing opposite one of your best members. “A three-year-old with a stick could do better.”

Your eye twitched. Who was this kid?

The boy had shown up out of nowhere, claiming he was here to “restore Mount Hua’s former glory.” A bold claim, considering the team had been on a steady decline for years, barely scraping by in competitions. Still, the way he carried himself—smug, assured, and almost too familiar with everything—made you uneasy.

It didn’t help that he had that face. The face of someone you had seen before, plastered across old championship banners in the dusty storage room.

Chung Myung.

Former national player. Legend of Mount Hua. Dead.

And yet, here he was. Fifteen, again. With the same ridiculous confidence, the same insufferable smirk, and the same frustratingly perfect technique.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you called out, stepping forward before he could push your team any further into existential despair. “Since you’re so eager to talk big, why don’t you show us what you can actually do?”

The boy’s pink eyes gleamed with something dangerously close to excitement. “Oh?” He tilted his head, grinning. “You volunteering to fight me, manager-nim?”

You scoffed, rolling up your sleeves. Manager was just a title. You were more than capable of holding your own. “Unless you’re scared.”

Chung Myung barked out a laugh. “Scared? Of you?”

You didn’t give him time to keep talking. Grabbing one of the bamboo swords from the rack, you lunged at him.

The moment your swords clashed, you knew something was off.

He was good. Too good.

He didn’t just match your strikes—he anticipated them, countering with absurd ease. It was as if he had memorized every move before you even made it. You weren’t weak. You had trained just as hard as anyone else on this team. And yet, in front of him, it felt like you were years behind.

Your grip tightened. Fine. If he wanted a fight, you’d give him one.

But then, just as you were about to strike again, he stepped back, lowering his sword. “Not bad.” His smirk widened. “But still not good enough.”

You grit your teeth. “Cocky much?”

“I earned my confidence,” he said, twirling the sword effortlessly in his grip. “And soon, I’ll make sure this team earns theirs too.”

You frowned. “What exactly is your deal?”

He just grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s just say Mount Hua isn’t done yet.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, watching him move, seeing the fire in his eyes—you believed him.

“Oi, Mad Dog!”

Chung Myung turned at the call, his smirk widening as Jo Gul stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. “You think you’re hot shit just ‘cause you humiliated the manager?”

“I know I’m hot shit,” Chung Myung replied lazily. “What, you wanna try me next?”

Jo Gul grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Damn right I do.”

You sighed, already feeling the headache forming. “Gul, don’t—”

But it was too late.

The moment Jo Gul lunged, Chung Myung moved. And not in the way a normal person would.

One second, he was standing there, relaxed. The next, he was a blur of white and black, his wooden sword flashing through the air like a beast let off its leash.

“W-Wait—!” Jo Gul barely had time to react before Chung Myung pounced on him.

What followed could only be described as a complete and utter slaughter.

Jo Gul’s initial bravado shattered as Chung Myung rained down strikes faster than the eye could track. The poor guy’s sword flew out of his grip, clattering uselessly onto the floor. But that didn’t stop Chung Myung.

“Oh, running away now?” Chung Myung jeered, eyes alight with wild glee as he chased Jo Gul across the hall, swinging at him with reckless abandon.

“YAHHHH—!!” Jo Gul screamed, practically fleeing as Chung Myung hunted him down like a predator on the prowl.

Everyone watched, horrified. You swore you saw someone make the sign of the cross.

“WHY IS HE SO FAST?! HOW IS HE SO FAST?!” Jo Gul wailed as he scrambled over a training mat.

“Come back here, you coward!” Chung Myung cackled, leaping over the same mat with terrifying ease.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Oh my god.”

The chaos only ended when Jo Gul, completely out of breath, collapsed onto the floor, panting like a dying fish.

Chung Myung stood over him, grinning ear to ear. “That was fun. Wanna go again?”

Jo Gul, still wheezing, raised a trembling hand. “I—I forfeit.”

Chung Myung laughed, slapping him HARD on the back, with the most devious look on his face- like the devil. No, worse than the devil himself. “Good. That means you’re not completely hopeless.”

The rest of the team exchanged nervous glances. One of them whispered, “We’re doomed.”

You exhaled. “No. We’re definitely doomed.” . . . . .

The next day, training became hell.

Chung Myung’s idea of ‘practice’ involved more suffering than anyone had ever experienced in their entire lives. He had everyone running until their legs gave out, swinging their swords until their arms felt like jelly, and sparring non-stop until even the strongest fighters were begging for a break.

Yet, despite the hellish training, there were moments—small, barely noticeable—where he showed his care. He adjusted stances without belittling them too much, threw water bottles at those near collapse (sometimes directly at their heads, but still), and always pushed them just enough to break their limits without actually letting them fall apart.

And slowly, they improved.

Their footwork became sharper. Their strikes became faster. Their endurance increased beyond anything they’d thought possible.

The training that followed was nothing short of hell on earth.

Chung Myung stood before the ragtag group of Mount Hua’s Haidong Gumdo team, hands on his hips, pink eyes gleaming with an almost sadistic glee. The disciples, once hopeful and naive, now trembled under his gaze.

“All right, you bunch of weaklings,” he drawled, stretching his arms above his head. "Since you’re all so eager to become proper swordsmen, I’ve prepared a nice, easy, relaxing training regimen for you."

Jo Gul, still nursing the bruises from his utterly humiliating defeat, let out a nervous chuckle. "That doesn’t sound too bad—"

“Shut up, Jo Gul.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chung Myung grinned. "First things first! We’re going to run ten kilometers. Up the hill. With weights strapped to your backs. No breaks."

A collective groan rang through the air.

“Then, we’ll move on to sword swings—one thousand per arm!" Chung Myung’s voice carried an almost gleeful lilt. "Oh, and if I catch anyone slacking, I’ll personally add another five hundred. For fun."

Yoon Jong, the usually composed and rational senior, paled. "That’s… that’s insane."

“Oh?” Chung Myung tilted his head, a hand cupping his ear mockingly. "Did I hear someone volunteering to carry extra weights? You’re so generous, Yoon Jong!"

“I—I didn’t say anything!" Yoon Jong sputtered.

Chung Myung clapped his hands together. "Great! Now, let’s begin."

And so, hell began.

The hill run alone nearly broke them. The weighted packs felt like boulders strapped to their backs, dragging them down with every step. The higher they climbed, the steeper the terrain became. Some slipped, others collapsed, but none were allowed to stop.

“Get up, you lazy bastards!” Chung Myung’s voice rang from above, perched effortlessly on a rock with not a single bead of sweat on his face. “You think your opponents will wait for you to catch your breath? MOVE!”

Jo Gul, gasping for air, muttered, "I swear, he's a demon in human skin."

“Shut up and run, or he’ll hear you!” Yoon Jong hissed.

The sword swings came next, their arms trembling after the first three hundred. The weight of their wooden practice swords felt like iron clubs in their hands, and yet, Chung Myung remained unsympathetic.

“Straighten your stance! What is that, a noodle arm?! Jo Gul, swing properly or I’ll add another thousand!”

“Master! Mercy!”

“Mercy? Never heard of it!”

They trained until their arms went numb, until their legs felt like jelly, until their lungs screamed for relief. But even then, Chung Myung wasn’t done.

“What’s the matter? You’re all still breathing! That means more training!”

Then came balance exercises, practicing sword forms while standing on one leg atop thin wooden poles. Then reaction drills, dodging wooden projectiles that Chung Myung gleefully launched at them with alarming speed.

“If you get hit, that means you’re too slow! Let’s fix that, shall we?”

By the end of the week, they had lost all sense of time. Was it morning? Night? No one knew anymore. Their bodies ached, their souls felt crushed, but—

They were getting stronger. . . . . . .

Chung Myung’s idea of training was not just pushing limits—it was obliterating them. The disciples woke up before the sun rose, only to be met with the sight of their instructor grinning like a madman, a wooden sword slung over his shoulder. Their groggy complaints were met with the crack of a wooden sword against the ground.

“You worms think you’ve trained before? HA! Today, I’ll show you what real training is!”

From dawn till dusk, the disciples were put through a regimen so brutal it felt like they were being personally hunted by a wild beast. They ran laps up and down Mount Hua, carrying heavy wooden swords strapped to their backs, their legs trembling with each step. Chung Myung watched from the top of the mountain, arms crossed, looking as smug as ever.

“Anyone who collapses stays here for the night! If you get eaten by a tiger, well… consider it natural selection!” he shouted cheerfully.

The training included swinging their swords thousands of times until their arms felt like they would fall off, then sparring until they could barely stand. Every time someone thought they could take a break, Chung Myung would appear behind them, cackling.

“Oh? You’re sitting? What a coincidence! I was just thinking of adding another thousand swings to today’s schedule!”

Jo Gul, after his humiliating defeat, tried to challenge Chung Myung again—only to be chased around the training grounds like a rabbit fleeing a bloodthirsty wolf. His screams echoed across Mount Hua as Chung Myung swung at him mercilessly, all while laughing like a maniac.

“FASTER, JO GUL! YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO IMPROVE, RIGHT?”

“I DIDN’T SAY I WANTED TO DIEEEE—!!”

But despite the suffering, something incredible happened. The disciples grew stronger. Their sword strikes became sharper, their footwork swifter. They could feel their bodies adapting, their stamina increasing.

And though Chung Myung never outright praised them, there were small moments—like how he would wordlessly pass them water when they collapsed or how he made sure no one truly overexerted themselves beyond recovery. His methods were harsh, but his intentions were clear.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, you found yourself sitting beside him, watching the sunset. Unlike the others, you weren’t completely wrecked—you were strong, too, a skilled Haidong Gumdo practitioner in your own right. But even you had to admit, today had been exhausting.

“You really are a demon,” you muttered, stretching out your sore arms.

Chung Myung snorted. “If I was a demon, you’d all be dead already.”

You laughed softly, and to everyone’s shock, Chung Myung actually smiled—softly. Not his usual, sadistic grin. A real, genuine smile.

“...You’re doing well,” he said, voice quieter than usual.

Every disciple nearby froze in place, their exhausted bodies stiffening like statues.

Did… Did they hear that correctly? Did Chung Myung just say something… nice?

Jo Gul nearly dropped his sword. Baek Cheon choked on his water. Even Yoon Jong, usually composed, looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Wait… what?”

Chung Myung, oblivious to the collective breakdown happening behind him, turned to you. “I mean it. You’re different. Stronger than the rest of these idiots.”

You blinked at him in surprise before smiling. “Coming from you, that’s a huge compliment.”

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tch. Don’t get all sappy on me.”

Meanwhile, the other disciples were now whispering furiously among themselves.

“D-Did he just compliment someone?”

“No way.”

“This isn’t real. We’re hallucinating from the training.”

“He never talks to anyone like that… What’s going on?!”

You tilted your head. “What’s with them?”

Chung Myung finally seemed to notice the shocked stares and snorted. “Ignore them. They’re just idiots.”

But even as he said that, he subtly moved closer to you, leaning back on his arms, watching the sky. And for once, there was peace—at least, until tomorrow, when training hell would resume.

Chung Myung’s idea of training was not just pushing limits—it was obliterating them. The disciples woke up before the sun rose, only to be met with the sight of their instructor grinning like a madman, a wooden sword slung over his shoulder. Their groggy complaints were met with the crack of a wooden sword against the ground.

“You worms think you’ve trained before? HA! Today, I’ll show you what real training is!”

From dawn till dusk, the disciples were put through a regimen so brutal it felt like they were being personally hunted by a wild beast. They ran laps up and down Mount Hua, carrying heavy wooden swords strapped to their backs, their legs trembling with each step. Chung Myung watched from the top of the mountain, arms crossed, looking as smug as ever.

“Anyone who collapses stays here for the night! If you get eaten by a tiger, well… consider it natural selection!” he shouted cheerfully.

The training included swinging their swords thousands of times until their arms felt like they would fall off, then sparring until they could barely stand. Every time someone thought they could take a break, Chung Myung would appear behind them, cackling.

“Oh? You’re sitting? What a coincidence! I was just thinking of adding another thousand swings to today’s schedule!”

Jo Gul, after his humiliating defeat, tried to challenge Chung Myung again—only to be chased around the training grounds like a rabbit fleeing a bloodthirsty wolf. His screams echoed across Mount Hua as Chung Myung swung at him mercilessly, all while laughing like a maniac.

“FASTER, JO GUL! YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO IMPROVE, RIGHT?”

“I DIDN’T SAY I WANTED TO DIEEEE—!!”

But despite the suffering, something incredible happened. The disciples grew stronger. Their sword strikes became sharper, their footwork swifter. They could feel their bodies adapting, their stamina increasing.

And though Chung Myung never outright praised them, there were small moments—like how he would wordlessly pass them water when they collapsed or how he made sure no one truly overexerted themselves beyond recovery. His methods were harsh, but his intentions were clear.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, you found yourself sitting beside him, watching the sunset. Unlike the others, you weren’t completely wrecked—you were strong, too, a skilled Haidong Gumdo practitioner in your own right. But even you had to admit, today had been exhausting.

“You really are a demon,” you muttered, stretching out your sore arms.

Chung Myung snorted. “If I was a demon, you’d all be dead already.”

You laughed softly, and to everyone’s shock, Chung Myung actually smiled—softly. Not his usual, sadistic grin. A real, genuine smile.

“...You’re doing well,” he said, voice quieter than usual.

Every disciple nearby froze in place, their exhausted bodies stiffening like statues.

Did… Did they hear that correctly? Did Chung Myung just say something… nice?

Jo Gul nearly dropped his sword. Baek Cheon choked on his water. Even Yoon Jong, usually composed, looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Wait… what?”

Chung Myung, oblivious to the collective breakdown happening behind him, turned to you. “I mean it. You’re different. Stronger than the rest of these idiots.”

You blinked at him in surprise before smiling. “Coming from you, that’s a huge compliment.”

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tch. Don’t get all sappy on me.”

Meanwhile, the other disciples were now whispering furiously among themselves.

“D-Did he just compliment someone?”

“No way.”

“This isn’t real. We’re hallucinating from the training.”

“He never talks to anyone like that… What’s going on?!”

You tilted your head. “What’s with them?”

Chung Myung finally seemed to notice the shocked stares and snorted. “Ignore them. They’re just idiots.”

Jo Gul, ever the opportunist, secretly pulled out his phone and snapped a quick picture of the two of you sitting together. With a smirk, he sent it to the Mount Hua group chat with the caption: "The mad demon is actually being nice to someone. Unbelievable."

The moment Chung Myung’s phone vibrated in his pocket, he glanced at it and saw the message. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned his head to look at Jo Gul, his pink eyes darkening, his lips curling into the most unsettling, sadistic grin anyone had ever seen.

Jo Gul immediately broke into a cold sweat.

“Oh no.”

Chung Myung cracked his knuckles, his voice eerily calm. “Jo Gul… you have three seconds.”

Jo Gul didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted, screaming at the top of his lungs as Chung Myung leapt to his feet and launched himself after him with terrifying speed.

“COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE RAT!”

“IT WAS JUST A JOKE! I’M SORRY! HAVE MERCY—!!”

The other disciples could only watch in horror as Jo Gul ran for his life, zigzagging across the training grounds like a rabbit trying to evade a predator. You jumped to your feet, trying to stop the impending murder.

“Chung Myung, wait! It’s just a picture!” you called out, running after him.

Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong immediately joined in, grabbing at Chung Myung’s arms, only to be dragged along as if they weighed nothing. The entire training ground devolved into chaos, with disciples scrambling to hold Chung Myung back while Jo Gul wailed for help.

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE! SAVE ME!”

“STOP RUNNING AND ACCEPT YOUR FATE, JO GUL!”

In the end, it took nearly half the disciples to wrestle Chung Myung to the ground, and even then, he was still thrashing like a demon possessed. Man, he (& everyone else in the Mount Hua sect) needs therapy

“Alright, manager,” Chung Myung grinned, tossing you a bamboo sword. “Since you seem to have so much energy left, let’s spar.”

You caught the sword effortlessly, twirling it in your grip. “You sure? I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your disciples.”

The others collectively gasped.

Chung Myung’s grin widened. “Oh, I like that confidence.”

The second he lunged at you, you met him head-on, the sound of clashing bamboo echoing across the dojo. His strikes were precise and terrifyingly fast, but you dodged with just as much speed, countering with your own rapid blows.

Everyone watched in horror and awe as you kept up with him, matching his relentless pace. It was absolute chaos—flashes of movement, blades blurring, and your laughter mixing with his manic cackling.

“Holy crap,” Yoon Jong whispered. “She’s keeping up.”

“Not just keeping up,” Jo Gul said in shock. “She’s matching his insanity!”

You ducked under a particularly brutal swing, sliding behind him and aiming for his back, but he twisted at the last second, blocking your strike. You grinned.

“Getting slow, old man?”

Chung Myung snorted. “Old man? Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

The fight became even more intense, the air buzzing with sheer energy. Your strength was undeniable—Chung Myung wasn’t going easy on you, and yet, you were still standing, still fighting, still keeping up with the Mad Dog of Mount Hua.

For once, the suffering disciples had something else to talk about besides their own misery.

But after several more brutal exchanges, the inevitable happened. A particularly fierce clash sent both of you skidding backwards, panting heavily. Sweat dripped down your brows, and bruises were already forming where the bamboo had struck flesh.

You and Chung Myung locked eyes, still gripping your swords tightly, neither willing to admit defeat.

Then, simultaneously, you both collapsed onto the floor, still side-eyeing each other.

“...Ow,” you muttered.

“Same,” Chung Myung admitted.

The rest of the disciples stared at the two of you in stunned silence.

Jo Gul was the first to speak. “Sooo… both of you are heading to the sick bay, huh?”

Neither of you responded. You were too busy glaring at each other from the floor, both stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the pain.

Yoon Jong sighed. “Alright, someone carry them. And make sure they don’t start fighting again on the way there.” . . . .

As Jo Gul and Baek Cheon hauled the two battered warriors toward the sickbay, their grumbling was nonstop.

"I swear, you two are absolute menaces," Jo Gul huffed, adjusting his grip on your arm. "Fighting like rabid animals—what were you even trying to prove?!"

Baek Cheon shook his head in exasperation, struggling under Chung Myung's weight. "They're both insane. That's the only explanation."

Chung Myung let out a groggy chuckle, barely lifting his head. "Tch, don’t act like you’re not impressed."

Jo Gul rolled his eyes. "I'm impressed that you're still alive after that beating, if anything."

Finally, they reached the sickbay and dumped both of you onto separate beds. Jo Gul stretched his back, then jabbed a finger at Chung Myung. "Don't murder each other in here, alright?"

"No promises," Chung Myung smirked.

Baek Cheon sighed before the two of them left, shutting the door behind them. The moment the room fell silent, exhaustion fully hit you. The soreness in your muscles was unbearable, and the soft, cool sheets of the sickbay bed were a dangerous temptation.

You barely managed to mutter, "I’m gonna sleep forever," before completely knocking out.

Chung Myung, who had initially been wincing in pain, slowly turned his head toward you. He blinked, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, your expression softened in sleep. For a moment, he just stared, taking in the peaceful sight of you completely relaxed for once.

His usual mischievous smirk faded into something gentler. His pink eyes softened, and he rested his chin on his palm, elbow propped up against the bed. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but seeing you like this—completely unguarded—made something warm settle in his chest.

"Tch, even when you’re dead tired, you still look so smug," he muttered under his breath, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The sickbay remained quiet, only the rhythmic sound of your breathing filling the space. No one else was around, no noisy disciples, no complaints about his brutal training. Just the two of you, sharing this rare, peaceful moment.

Chung Myung sighed and leaned back against his pillows, letting himself close his eyes. "You better wake up soon, you slacker. I’m not letting you off training just because of this," he mumbled, but there was no bite in his words.

But as much as he tried to rest, his eyes kept drifting back to you. He traced the curve of your face with his gaze, the way your eyelashes rested lightly on your cheeks, the way your hair framed your features. He scoffed to himself.

"Tch, annoying. Why do you have to be so damn strong? So damn pretty?" he muttered under his breath. His fingers twitched as if itching to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, but he resisted. "You’re ridiculous, you know that? How do you keep up with me like that?"

A small chuckle left his lips, shaking his head. "I’ve met plenty of warriors, plenty of swordsmen, but you… You’re different. You don’t just fight well—you fight like you belong in battle. Like you were born to stand beside me."

His words barely left a whisper, as if afraid you might hear them even in your deep sleep.

"So stubborn and arrogant..and pretty—no wonder you drive me insane."

With a final sigh, he forced himself to lean back again, rubbing his eyes as if trying to shake off whatever this strange warmth in his chest was. He'd never admit it, not to anyone, not even to himself.

But as he closed his eyes, the last thing on his mind was the image of you

A soft rustling sound made your eyelids flutter open. The moment you stirred, a dull ache shot through your body, reminding you of the absolute war you had with Chung Myung. You groaned and shifted slightly, stretching out your sore limbs when suddenly—a small package landed on your stomach.

Blinking, you looked down to see your favorite snacks sitting atop the sheets.

"Eat that," came a familiar voice. "You’re going to need the energy. Because as soon as you’re done, I’m resuming your training."

You turned your head, still groggy, to see Chung Myung sitting up in his own bed, his usual devious grin in place. There was a certain glint in his pink eyes, that mischievous but oddly warm light that always left you guessing.

You stared at the snacks, then at him, then back at the snacks. "You’re giving me food… so you can kill me faster?"

Chung Myung snorted. "Obviously. Can’t have you collapsing before I properly beat you into shape."

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "You’re the worst."

"And yet, you’re still here," he shot back, tilting his head with a knowing smirk. "Now eat up. I’m not waiting all day."

Despite his words, there was something undeniably soft in the way he looked at you. And as you unwrapped the snack, taking a bite with an exaggerated groan of satisfaction, you swore you saw his ears turn just the faintest shade of pink. . . . . .

As you chewed on your snack, still half-asleep, you noticed Chung Myung shifting slightly in his bed. His usual smug expression hadn’t changed, but there was something in his posture��less chaotic energy, more something else.

"You good?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chung Myung clicked his tongue. "Tch. Worry about yourself, idiot. You look like you got run over by a truck."

You swallowed your bite and smirked. "Pretty sure that truck was you."

He shrugged shamelessly. "Not my fault you decided to challenge me head-on. You’re just lucky you didn’t break anything."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the amused grin tugging at your lips. This was just how he was—relentless, teasing, and yet…

You blinked as he pulled out his phone, glancing at you before holding it out. "Give me your number."

You nearly choked on your snack. "Hah?!"

He frowned at your reaction like you were being unreasonable. "Your phone number. What, you deaf now too?"

Your brain short-circuited for a second. "Why do you need my number?"

Chung Myung sighed dramatically, as if you were the biggest idiot he'd ever met. "So I can call you when you try to run away from training, obviously."

Of course. You should’ve known.

Still, you eyed him suspiciously. "And that’s the only reason?"

His expression didn't change, but the tips of his ears twitched—just slightly. "What else would it be for?"

You squinted at him. "I dunno… maybe so you can text me random threats at 2 AM?"

He grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now that you mention it, that does sound fun."

With a groan, you snatched his phone from his hand and quickly typed in your number. Before handing it back, you gave him a warning look. "If you spam me, I will block you."

Chung Myung smirked, taking the phone back. "Oh? Are you scared of a few texts from me?"

You scoffed. "I just don’t want to wake up to 50 messages saying ‘Get up, we’re training.’"

He chuckled, pocketing his phone. "You act like that won’t happen anyway."

You groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the pillow. "Why do I put up with you?"

Chung Myung leaned back as well, arms behind his head, grinning at the ceiling. "Because you love it."

You shot him a side glare, but all he did was smirk, completely unfazed.

After finishing your snack, you groaned as you sat up, rolling your shoulders. The soreness had settled deep into your muscles, but compared to what you’d been through, it was nothing. Chung Myung was already on his feet, stretching lazily like he hadn’t just been in a near-death sparring match with you.

You squinted at him. “You’re way too energized for someone who got their ass handed to them.”

He scoffed, smirking. “Tch. Like you didn’t walk away looking worse.”

You rolled your eyes but stood up anyway, wobbling slightly. Chung Myung watched you for a moment before casually holding out a hand. Not thinking, you took it—and immediately regretted it.

The moment your fingers touched his, a smug grin spread across his face. “Oh? You actually accepted help? What, getting soft on me?”

Realizing your mistake, you immediately shoved his hand away, standing up on your own with a huff. “Forget it. I take it back.”

Chung Myung just laughed, leading the way outside.

As soon as you stepped onto the training grounds, you blinked. Your jaw nearly dropped.

The once bare plum blossom trees were now in full bloom, their delicate pink petals floating in the air like something out of a painting. The gentle breeze carried them through the training yard, scattering them around your feet like nature itself had decided to celebrate your survival.

You stared for a long moment before throwing your hands up. “I passed out for two fuckinghours, and the plum blossoms are blooming now?!”

Chung Myung, unbothered as always, just stretched his arms behind his head. “Well, yeah. What did you expect?”

You gawked at him. “They weren’t like this before! It’s like nature speedran spring while I was out!”

He gave you a side glance, smirking. “Maybe you were just unconscious for longer than you thought.”

Your eye twitched. “I swear to god are you gaslighting me—”

Before you could finish your threat, a sudden gust of wind sent a flurry of petals swirling around you both. You raised a hand to shield your face, but when you peeked through your fingers, you caught sight of Chung Myung watching you.

His usual teasing expression had softened, just slightly. The way the light caught in his pink eyes, the way the petals framed his face—it was unfair, really. You were about to comment when his smirk returned in full force.

“Well? You gonna stand there admiring the flowers all day, or are we training?”

You groaned. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He grinned, already walking ahead.

"___!" Yoo Iseol’s voice rang out before you could even react.

The next second, you found yourself enveloped in her arms, her grip surprisingly strong despite her delicate appearance. She squeezed you tightly, her voice muffled against your shoulder. "Are you okay? I heard what happened—Chung Myung didn’t go overboard, did he?"

You blinked, momentarily stunned, before patting her back with a small laugh. "I’m fine, Iseol. Just a bit sore."

Jo Gul suddenly appeared beside you, dramatically jumping backward as if he’d seen a ghost. "WAIT. CHUNG MYUNG DIDN’T ATTEMPT TO MURDER YOU?"

You raised an eyebrow. "What kind of question is that?"

Baek Cheon, who had just stepped into the room, crossed his arms and gave you a scrutinizing look. "Tell us if he threatens to kill you. We’ll report him to the police."

Chung Myung, who had been watching the entire interaction with growing irritation, finally snapped.

"You little brats! Who do you think I am, huh?!" He pointed an accusatory finger at them. "Are you seriously suggesting I’d go too far?! This is slander! Slander, I say!"

Baek Cheon just sighed, shaking his head. "I’m just saying, you have a history of pushing people past their limits—"

"That’s called training, you idiot!" Chung Myung exploded. "You’re all just weaklings with no backbone!"

Jo Gul leaned toward you, whispering, "He’s totally avoiding the question."

You stifled a laugh, but unfortunately, Chung Myung caught it. His eye twitched dangerously.

"Alright, that’s it." He suddenly straightened, cracking his knuckles. "Since you’re all so chatty, I think extra training is in order."

Jo Gul paled. "Wait—"

"You can’t just—" Baek Cheon started, but Chung Myung was already rolling his shoulders, grinning in a way that sent shivers down their spines.

"Outside. Now," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jo Gul let out a wail of despair. "WE SHOULD’VE JUST KEPT OUR MOUTHS SHUT!"

As they scrambled to protest, you leaned back against Iseol's chest, watching the chaos unfold with amusement. Yoo Iseol still hovered close, fussing over you, but even she looked exasperated by the situation.

And through all of it, despite the yelling and complaints, you caught Chung Myung sneaking another glance at you. His expression, though masked by his usual arrogance, held a certain softness.

You pretended not to notice. But the warmth in your chest told you everything you needed to know.

After a grueling training session that felt like it would never end, you finally stumbled back into your room, exhausted, but satisfied with the progress you’d made. As much as you wanted to collapse on your bed, the allure of Netflix and the mindless scrolling of your favorite shows lured you in. You plopped down on your bed, wrapped in a blanket, your phone in hand, and quickly started an episode of some random show you had been meaning to catch up on.

The soft glow of your phone’s screen illuminated your room, and you settled in, letting the noise of the show drown out the fatigue from your intense day.

Just as you were getting comfortable, your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen, expecting it to be a group chat message from Jo Gul or Baek Cheon complaining about the extra training, but to your surprise, it was a message from none other than Chung Myung.

You set your phone down for a moment, thinking of how much the entire team and everything had changed—and your relationship with him—had become. It had turned from a series of brutal matches to something that felt more like... a routine, if not strange friendship maybe.

Just as you were about to settle back into your bed, you heard a soft tap against the glass of your balcony door. You frowned, glancing at it, confused for a moment.

Curious, you got up, slipping your phone into your pocket, and walked over to the door.

When you opened it, you were met with the soft breeze of the night air and a small gift sitting at your feet. You blinked down at it, then looked around to make sure no one was watching.

You reached down to pick up the little surprise, noticing it was wrapped in simple brown paper with a crinkled note attached to it. The note was scribbled with a familiar handwriting.

"You slacker – Chung Myung."

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. You opened the gift and found a packet of sour patch kids and a small plushie that looked like the stupid ass kamden pou frog meme

You couldn’t help but laugh, holding up the plushie in disbelief.

"This guy… is completely impossible," you muttered to yourself, the smile never leaving your face.

You closed the balcony door gently, cradling the gifts in your arms. You couldn’t deny the warmth that settled in your chest. Chung Myung was an absolute mess, but maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the chaotic, stubborn gremlin he let the world see.

You glanced back down at the note, your lips curling into a small smile.

“Guess I can’t deny it,” you murmured softly to yourself. “That cute bastard is full of surprises.”

I NEED MORE ROTBB FICS PLEASE I LOVE ROTBB SO MUCH GO READ IT ITS AMAIZNG

[kyannae]

I'VE JUST SEEN YOUR REQ FOR SUGGESTIONS AND.. listen.... hear me out...

Kisses with ...Cheong Myeong and Yoo Iseol.... kisses hcs??? I'm all for it. Simple scenarios where you kiss them and they return it?? hell yeah. Maybe you could do "the [number] you did [action], and the one time they return it"..... I'm just hungry for kisses I am a starving young victorian child PLEASE OTHER THAN THAT !! I hope you have a great day :3

KISSES，↷ cheongmyeong, yu iseol

summary: kisses with cheongmyeong and iseol~

category: fluff!! | gn!reader

warnings: nil~ very rare. they are all so angst material. 😓

a/n: did yall miss me chat. LOL. im so sorry for taking so long to write this up...life was ass.

"myeong, sahyung is calling for you." you knocked against the trunk of the tree cheongmyeong was on, the said male peering at you from his relaxed position.

"ugh, did he find out i stole wine again?" he let out a little hiccup at the end. "obviously. and, you skipped training." you replied, seeing the male hop down from his spot. "aw, don't be like that, n/n!" he attempted to flick your forehead, which you blocked with ease.

"oh, come on. did you really have to block that? you knew that I didn't put any force-"

kiss.

cheongmyeong stilled, lips parted in disbelief as he stared at you licking your lips. "mh, plums. basic taste." you looked back up at him. "what?"

cheongmyeong's face erupted into a deep shade of red, as he pointed a finger at you accusingly.

"y-you...you!" he stuttered, finger trembling slightly. you snorted, before bursting out in laughter. "god! you look so funny right now, i wish i could show this to-"

kiss.

you froze, seeing cheongmyeong smirk. his face was still red, but he had that stupid proud grin on his face.

"that's...!" you sputtered, covering your face with your hands. "...not fair." you muttered, steam rising from your face comically.

cheongmyeong full on belly laughed, rolling on the floor. you glared at him, before raising your leg to kick his abdomen. he let out a choking-like sound, clutching his stomach.

iseol was beautiful- a fact that everyone agreed on, but they could never see how breathtaking she looked under the moonlight. this scene was for your eyes only.

"hah! I'm going to tell sahyung thay you were so drunk to the point where you fell off the tree." you turned around, stomping off to your senior, cheongmyeong raising a hand weakly to try and stop you.

"you look beautiful, iseol." you complimented, brushing some stray hairs away from her face. iseol turned her head over to look at you, giving you a small smile.

"you look equally as stunning, y/n." she replied, your smile turning into a grin at her words. silence ensued, the both of you simply enjoying the breeze.

however, suddenly-

kiss.

iseol whipped her head around so fast that she might've gotten whiplash, looking at you with wide eyes. you were facing away from her, likely too embarrassed to face her.

she smiled, eyes forming crescent like shapes. "oh y/n," she said endearingly, gently cupping your face. "look at me."

"iseol..." you murmured, avoiding eye contact as you turned your head to face hers.

kiss.

© kyannae

iseol smiled, pulling away to admire your appearance under the moonlight. "i love you, y/n." she said, placing another kiss on the crown of your head. "you're mine, forever."

[grubus]

ahhh she did it ;A; she made plum blossoms bloom!!! So happy for her!!!!!!! (and Soso clearly having a Gay Awakening here)

also just Yoo Iseol being a Menace:

[arkvra]

⚠️ Big spoiler warning actually ⚠️

화산귀환 1400

Return of mount hua/blossoming blade chapter 1400

Huhuhuhuhu

[eyeswaitingfortuesdaynight]

yoo iseol is truly a girl's girl 😭😭😭😭😭

[enihk-writes]

[when i was still the one you want]

based on lyrics from right where you left me by taylor swift

paring: various!hwasan characters x gn!reader

summary: it's breakup season (because everyone around me are ending their relationships so something's in the air)

characters: geumjon (pbss) // geumhyeop (mhdd) // tang bo // baek cheon // jin geumryong // namgung dowi // jang ilso // tang soso // yu iseol

author's note: so funny story,,,,,,, i saw that post about gaylors being less credible than jungkook as reincarnated princess diana truthers... went on a taylor binge, and had some fanfic thoughts,,, so now bone apple teeth for yall ig <333 i would have added tang gunak but me personally? i would NOT fumble a dilf like that ever.

GEUMJON thinks it was nice while it lasted, like a sparkler you play with on summer nights — a passionate romance that ignited and died out by the end of a season. he was the pinnacle of your youth, but everyone had to grow up someday. and when neither of you felt that same fluttering sensation in your stomachs. you both agreed that you should end things. there was no hard feelings from either side, that's just how life was. and he heard years later, through the grapevine, that you had gotten married. to which he raises his cup of wine to the full moon in your honour.

GEUMHYEOP was the type of guy to try and fail. he'd be the first to lose interest in a relationship, and he was honestly a little panicked by that revelation. it didn't make sense to him that this could happen. you hadn't done anything wrong, you didn't deserve that. how could he have let this happen to you? he would shift his attention more on you ever so subtly, trying his best to rekindle whatever feeling he used to have for you as you remained blissfully unaware. though he finally gives up, and can only hope that you would notice. you do. but only when he starts to avoid you more often, missing out on almost every milestone in your relationship. avoiding confrontation, making excuses so that he doesn't have to come face-to-face with the hurt and confusion all over your face. this back-and-forth wears you out, and things just die out without so much of a word.

TANG BO was only with you because amongst all the marriage candidates the elders of his family had him meet, you had been the most tolerable one. you were easily forgettable, and something about that intrigued him. he was sure that one day, he would come to love you the way you had with him. it didn't. and it never did for all those decades, and he always remained as your betrothed up until the very end. you had both grown old, and it became ever so obvious that things just weren't going to work out the way either of you had hoped. he feels guilty for wasting a good chunk of your life with so much will-we-won't-we, and tries to help you stand back on your feet when you finally leave the tang estate. somewhere along those lines you two became a little more then friends, definitely far from lovers, maybe you and him ended up a little bit like family, or the next closest thing to that. you passed not too old, not too young. and he made sure that he sent you off to the afterlife proper. not realising you had taken a fragment of his heart with you.

JANG ILSO is a fickle guy. his obsessions die out as quickly as they appear. in exchange for the luxurious life you were gifted as his lover, you were expected to be at his every beck and call. can't be too obvious about it, he hates clingy lovers. can't get too nonchalant, he loves a little chase, sure. but he hates having to lower himself to ask for attention. he wasn't a needy dog. it was commendable that you lasted as long as you did — a whole three years wasn't an easy feat. you were lucky he felt nice and had only kicked you out of his estate with your belongings. including the gold and jewels he had gifted you. there was nothing more you could have asked for, you never had to work another day in your life, and thank god it seems his new obsession was keeping him busy enough to have him forget about you.

NAMGUNG DOWI wonders if he had done something wrong for you to come up and tell him you wanted to break up with him. you both wanted something different in life, he never really seemed to be on the same page as you when it came to things you both wanted for the future. he was distraught, telling you he would change and please stay here — you would but you had dreams too, and he had his commitments he had to fulfil. maybe, someday in the future, you both might find each other again but right now, you bade him adieu with kisses on his tear-stained cheeks.

TANG SOSO, she kept you like a secret while you kept her like an oath. something, something about how it wouldn't end well for either of you if you were found out. her, the daughter of the tang patriarch and you a child from a branch family she had supposedly fallen for. you only realised she wasn't that serious about you when she eventually left home for mount hua. you had seen the way her eyes sparkled when that girl with amethyst eyes cut down a new path she never knew she could have taken in life. she left because you didn't have the cards to give her what she wanted. well, at least one of you was happy. at least one of you found something they wanted to do.

YU ISEOL hasn't been the most vocal person between the two of you. it was always you that had to pull the weight, always you that had to watch out for the other. you had fallen in love with her because of her deep passion for the blade, it was also this deep passion for the blade that had driven her further and further away from you. somewhere along the way, you realised that there was almost nothing you had in common with her anymore. you had cried yourself to sleep that night, only waking up the next morning to end things with her properly. she was the same as always, swinging her sword, retracing her steps ever so diligently. even as you poured your heart out, she never once faltered — that's good. because you know that if she had staggered for a single moment, you would know she still cared, and you would have taken back everything you'd said. she didn't lose focus, and that was what you used to love about her. you let her be, not once turning back.

JIN GEUMRYONG could only watch from the corner of his eye what your expression was like as the elders brought him to meet the guests. with how he had been pushed forward as the leader of the next generation, the elders — his father included, had been looking into suitable marriage candidates for him. what they all didn't know was that he was already seeing someone. that someone being you. and what you yourself didn't know was that the elders had been looking into potential matches for him, something he hadn't told you about up until the day of the marriage interviews. you'd believe he'll explain it to you, assure you that you were still the one he'd choose. but you should have known he was a man who was duty-bound, and he would have never picked you above what he believed was his duty to the sect. if this was how it was going to end anyways, why did he even bother to ask you to be his?

BAEK CHEON knows he's never been good enough to call himself your lover. not when there were so many others that could fill his spot. you could assure him all you want but it wasn't enough to convince him, he was always trying his best, and you had always been so happy with it. but it wasn't enough. nothing you did or said was ever enough to calm his paranoia. all these feelings bubbled over to a tipping point, an argument of no return and you decided enough was enough. he had never known what it was like to actually wake up without you by his side until then, and he knew it was too late to take back all that he'd said. how dare he have the audacity to break your heart and try to fix it? he did this to himself, and now he has to lie in the grave he dug out.

[briar-oses]

sago and soso :]]

click for better qual. somehow it doesn't have good qual even tho it's a4

[jiaoji]

Lan WangJi's female version and Yoo Iseol's male version

[sweetsss-candysss]

i feel sorry for them fjfbdnnc

Return of the blossoming blade by LICO, Biga

[web-novel-polls]

Web Novel Women Tournament 

[Please be kind and respectful in the notes. Anti-Propaganda is NOT allowed.]

Lee Jihye from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint / ORV

Submission: 

Lee Jihye is boisterous, a little childish and even abrasive. She brags, jokes around, gets into teenage hijinks. But under the surface there is a great deal of survivor's guilt, self-loathing and insecurity. She is a traumatized teenager who killed her best friend to live, and has to live with that for the rest of her life. She is an incredibly talented swordsman and a general capable of turning a battle around all on her own. And a girl just trying to learn how to survive.

Wiki Link

Yoo Iseol / Yu Iseol from Return of the Blossoming Blade / Return of the Mount Hua Sect

Queen of staying in her lane. She went out of her way to talk to Chung Myung (about martial arts) and everyone who knew her freaked out because she never starts conversations. A “moonlit beauty” who annoyed the pants off of Chung Myung just to learn a sword technique. 

Wiki Link

[iicomet]

(yoo iseol & reader)

  The first time she saw them, she thought that she had met a deity that had graced the land with their heavenly presence underneath a full moon. The way they danced as the soles of their shoes touched the base of water, producing rings of ripples on the mirror-like surface; a sword in their hand as they moved to their own rhythm, an orchestra of the night performing a grand stage for them and them only.

  Yet what surprised her the most were not the serene look on their face or the way their moves seemed oh so familiar and foreign at the same time, but it was the freezing temperature that surrounded the stranger who was unphased by the unnaturality of it. Despite it being early-summer, a time where the coldness of winter has long disappeared and is replaced with steaming air, Yoo Iseol could see frozen ice on the surface of the water. She wondered if the faint scent of plum blossoms were the stranger’s doing as well.

  As the stranger took another step and executed another strike with their sword, Iseol finds herself mesmerized by the way they performed. The technique was something she was unfamiliar with, even though there was resemblance to the teachings from her sect. It wasn’t the Plum Blossom Sword technique, she was sure of it, but there was something that drew her into the style of the stranger’s swordsmanship. The coldness of each strike felt harsh and unwavering, but it was beautiful and smooth at the same time, a sense of professionalism and great care towards the art could be felt with every move.

  Before she even knew it, she was encaptured in the stranger’s web, unable to move as if she was frozen on the spot. When she finally broke free from her dazed trance, the stranger was long gone, leaving behind the melting flakes of snow and a subtle scent of flowers. There were so many questions in her head, all of it surrounding the mysteries of the stranger, but she pushed it aside, opting to focus on her training for the night— It was what she came here for, after all.

  Perhaps when the time is right and she meets them again, she will ask them to perform that sword technique again.

[grubus]

had to track down that fun chapter where Yoo Iseol decided to show that she's actually a feral girly and gave Cheong Myong the scare of his (current) life and then i got sidetracked with taking screenshots.

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Girls Group 3 Match 32

SUBMISSION PROPAGANDA:

Yoo Iseol -

"She has that autistic rizz. Everyone thinks she's so beautiful, mysterious and a little off-putting; making her the perfect candidate for this competition. She has an expressionless face and she doesn't talk a lot, a bit of an outcast. Still, most people describe her as an inapproachable cold beauty. She focuses single-mindedly on learning Mount Hua's sword techniques, even more so than the other characters. Also, I love her very much."

Suzuno -

"Suzuno is constantly reading and researching how to do 'proper' social interaction and is thirsty for this kind of knowledge. On her own, she comes across as pretty awkward and strange to others, but she's doing her best."