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iicomet · 2 months

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(chungmyung & gn!reader - second pov)

(In which he finds you.)

Chung Myung had wondered where you wandered off to.

Usually around this time of day, you would be chattering the ears off of anyone who comes close enough to you, enjoying a nice cup of tea with someone, or maybe taking a stroll under the cherry blossoms, watching the sect members train diligently. After returning heavily injured from a mission, you were forced to rest until your injuries had healed.

(However, now that he thought about it, your daily life was somewhat like this before you got injured too; so perhaps it wasn’t too much of a difference.)

While he usually wouldn't care about what you do for leisure, your sudden absence left an eerie silence that left a bad feeling in his heart. You wouldn’t get caught up in something dangerous or fall from a cliff, right? You knew better than to get into dangerous situations when you’re already so injured.

…Unless said situation seemed fun to you.

He sighed. Of course he had to have an adrenaline junkie as his senior.

Quickly checking through your usual spots, Chung Myung had started to wonder if you were already dead in some remote location before he caught sight of a familiar uniform, sitting limply under a tree. Before he could start scolding you for walking out so far while still injured, his blood pressure immediately spiked the moment you suddenly fell to the ground, eyes closed and breathing shallow.

Did you die? Were you poisoned? Were your injuries too heavy for your body to withstand? Anxious questions rose in his mind as he ran over to you, turning you over to check on your situation—- Only to find out that you were merely asleep.

He had to hold in every nerve in his body to stop himself from pummeling you awake. How dare you make him worry? Are you trying to make him have an early death? The insolence of kids these days. (ignoring the fact that you’re his senior.)

Chung Myung was ready to carry you back before the others noticed your disappearance, but the moment he saw the sword next to you, he realized that you had been secretly training alone here, away from others who would disrupt your determination to improve. After all, despite your victory from the mission, the failure of not being strong enough to protect yourself hurt your pride as a protector, as well as your confidence in your skills. In a way, he could understand your willingness to continue honing your skills, but he knew that over-exerting oneself would spell an even worse disaster in the future.

The scent of plum blossoms lingers in the wind, the low temperature of the area cooling his heart. You seemed truly peaceful in your sleep, not unlike the way you acted while awake; hiding your feelings from your sect brothers and sisters to avoid worry. Chung Myung shifted his position into a more comfortable one, allowing you to use his lap as a pillow as you continued your slumber, lulling the both of you into a calming daze.

For once, allow him to take care of your burdens. He already took on the entirety of Mount Hua’s, so what’s one more? You were there for him for a long time, so this time, he wants to be the one giving you strength.

#return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #rotbb #x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #chung myung x reader #reader insert #rotmhs x reader #rotbb x reader #reader:if i wake up now will he kill me or no #hey....im back......(proceeds to disappear for another year)#pls accept this as an apology #comet writes fluff/comfort (not clickbait)#cheongmyeong & reader #cheongmyeong x reader #chungmyung x reader

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l1anarts · 6 months

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Comforts (Chungmyung x Reader) inspired by @gojosatoruwifey's fics.

Yup, I'm the artist who made these >:D

#return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #return of the mount hua sect x reader #cheong myeong x reader #fanart #l1anarts.talk #l1anarts for geru #chung myung #cheong myeong #digital art #comfort art #SHE MADE THESE MOMENTS EXIST #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA #Looking forward to draw other fics <333

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alycias-wonderland · 1 year

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Could you please do a scenario of Chungmyung x Reader (return of the mount hua sect) where he realises he likes her after he gets jealous? Thank you 🙏

Of course babes❤

Jealousy is like cancer in the bones

Much to Chungmyung's annoyed disappointment, you'd been spending a lot of time with Jo Gul, fussing over him after Chungmyung had beaten him very badly in sparing. It had been two weeks, 3 days and 15hrs since he had seen you and no he wasn't counting the amount of time you had spent away from him. Stop being stupid.

Despite his constant, outwardly annoyance, you refused to acknowledge him, too busy happily chatting away with Jo Gul, who after closer inspection, had a light reddish hue dusting his cheeks. And your next question was the last, fucking straw for Chung.

Reaching up you cupped Jo Gul's cheeks in your hand and squished them, giggling as his face warmed under your hands, "Jeez, Jo Gul your so freaking cute I just want to kiss you and protect you."

Averting his eyes, Jo Gul gulped "I-I-Is that so. Well if you say so then i-I-Is must be true!"

"Oh is that so?" Chung couldn't help but sneer from behind you, hand clenched into a tight fist behind his back as hair covered his eyes.

"Jo Gul has got to be one of the ugliest mf around."

You gasped and slapped Chung before quickly turning around and comforting your baby boy (Jo Gul obviously🙄). "Don't listen to Chungmyung Jo Jo! He's just jealous of your cuteness-"

"And what if I am?"

"Fuck you on about?"

Kissing his teeth spitefully, Chung turned around and closed the sliding door to the medical room with force, creating a crack in it. Huffing you turned to Jo Jo who was just as stunned as you.

"The fuck was his problem?" Jo Gul just shrugged mindlessly.

The End. Like for part 2 cause this is as far as I'm getting today.

#headcanons #scenarios #alycia'swonderland #thanks anon!#return of the mount hua sect #chung myung #x reader

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iicomet · 10 months

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"psst-" "...?" "chung myung-ah! come here." He tilted his head at the voice, seeing the head of his senior peeking out of the window. He would've cursed the person out if it were anyone else, to be honest. But, it was his senior, one of the few people in Mount Hua who tolerated and even loved him like a younger brother despite his attitude. He couldn't even see their face, only staring at their eyes with confusion. It was late at night, and everyone was asleep. Why was his senior, the most well-behaved disciple in the entire sect doing outside his window at such a weird time? Surely they're not drunk, or hoping to attempt something strange. His senior wasn't the type to do something like that. ...Or were they...? Reluctantly, he walked closer towards the window, the only source of light in the dark room. Finally, he sees his senior's face, their bright smile evident on their face. They weren't drunk, he could see now. "...?" They only ushered him over to move closer to the window, passing him a box of items once he was deemed close enough. As he looked down upon the mysterious box, they used this opportunity to pat his hair, chuckling softly at the touch of scarred fingers against fluffy hair. They had always wondered, how did he get his hair to look like that? "i hope this makes you happier, sajae." They said, smiling gently. In the midst of the darkness, he felt as if the sun reflected it's rays on his senior's face instead of the moon, for it brought a sense of warmness into his heart in this cold night. His hands held onto the box tightly, as if scared to drop something so sacred to him. For a moment, he felt as if the room had brightened up lightly, as if a person's presence could bring this much light to a place. Before he could even thank them, they had disappeared, leaving behind the fragrance of plum blossoms in the winter, a scent so strong yet so faint at the same time. His eyes slowly trailed to the box in his hands, opening it slowly to reveal beautifully made mooncakes, packed neatly as if the person took great care in their art. A smile graced upon his lips as he took a bite out of the mooncake, feeling the soft yet slightly tender texture of the delicacy he loved so much fill his mouth with joyful goodness. Immediately his day brightened up, and he had forgotten the reason why he was so frustrated even when it was late at night. The salty and sweet taste plagued his senses, and he wondered how his senior knew. However, even if he spent the night awake thinking about it, he would never get a definite answer. After all, it's his senior. Someone who knew how to cheer someone up even in the darkest times.

#chungmyung #chung myung #cheong myeong #cheongmyeong #chungmyung x reader #cheongmyeong x reader #x reader #rotbb #return of the mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #fluff #implied angst but only if you squint really hard #intended to be platonic but you can intepret it as romantic too??#this is pre-reincarnation chungmyung #idk but hes still tiny here but not too tiny #rotbb x reader #rotmhs x reader

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iicomet · 10 months

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A little troublemaker runs away from the chases of his older sect brother, a bottle of wine dropping from his arms as he spins and avoids the fallen soldier, giggling loudly as he runs. His face holds a cheeky grin when he sees his older sect brother chasing after him with a broom, picking up the bottle as he did.

He laughs. A sound so carefree and filled with mischievous delight.

Blankets of snow covered the grounds of the sect, the cold making him huff out breaths of cloudy air, despite his energized steps. He could run ten more laps and more, just to escape from his sahyung and enjoy the spoils of his gluttonous greed in delight.

A daily occurrence in Mount Hua, a daily occurrence between sect brothers.

“Ah– There you are.”

He hears, before he is grabbed by the back of his collar like a cat and held in the air, his bottle dropping immediately in alarm. He looks at his perpetrator, a nervous chuckle coming out of him as they look at him with an amused, yet confused look.

“...Senior.”

He calls out, hoping to sound as gullible and innocent as possible, as if he wasn’t laughing internally at his sahyung, as if he didn’t just steal bottles of wine to drink in a tree somewhere in the sect, as if he wasn’t planning to skip his training again. They stared at him, opening their mouth to speak before they were interrupted by another voice, the voice of his sahyung who had chased him across the sect grounds.

“Chung Myung! Ah, thanks for catching him, senior. He stole those bottles of wine again.”

They smiled, nodding at their junior before turning their gaze towards Chung Myung, this time more disappointed and strict. He could feel shivers up his spine at that stare, any words immediately disappearing at the tip of his tongue. He had no way of escaping this time, so he had no choice but to bow his head down and pout, defeated by his senior.

“...I’m sorry…”

They shook their head, letting him down with a gentle pat and picked up the bottles, leaving the two sect brothers alone. He watched them leave, their figure growing smaller at the distance, their footsteps resounding across the silent grounds with each gentle step. A back he has grown used to seeing, a shadow he wished to chase after. No matter what he did, it seems like he could never ever catch up to them, their nimble movements too fast for a young boy like him.

A wishful thought remains in his mind as he turns around, following his sahyung obediently.

‘One day, you won't be able to catch me, senior.’

#chung myung #return of the mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #x reader #xreader #xreader but its more of a reader insert #maybe platonic maybe romantic idk #rotbb #cheongmyeong #cheong myeong #chungmyung #chungmyung x reader #chung myung x reader #anyways ig his thoughts came true if you know what i mean #and by what i mean i meant he died so you can't catch him #please accept my humble offering to the xreader community in the fandom #its all i can do #rotbb x reader #rotmhs x reader

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iicomet · 7 months

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(Every year, he receives a box.) (Happy birthday, Chung Myung.)

Every single year without fail, Chung Myung receives a small box of mooncakes sitting on his opened windows he swore he had closed. Even as the cold air forced its way in and kissed his skin, causing goosebumps to rise from his neck, Chung Myung felt a sense of warmness at the sight of the familiar box. Although he isn't sure who gave him the box, he always had an inkling of the gifter's true identity. But if he tried to ask them about it, he would always be met with a confused hum and a swift denial. Perhaps they took him for a fool, because the small glint of happiness shining in their eyes always seemed to betray their nonchalant attitude. He wasn't going to complain though. A gift is a gift, and who was he to reject such kindness? It's definitely not because it brings a smile to his face or because the gifts always seem to be of his liking, it's just because he is a benevolent person who knows how to be grateful. Yup, that's definitely it. As one hundred years passed, Chung Myung still finds himself looking at the windowsill that feels oddly empty on his birthday. As he attempts to walk closer towards the closed window, his eyes caught a glimmer at the corner of his sights, distracting him from his reminiscing. A polished decoration atop a box that stood so out of place as it wasn't there in the morning. Chung Myung walks towards it, eyebrows raised. His expression morphing into one of surprise and curiosity when he finally examined it closer, a deep sense of nostalgia and hope filling him briefly. Why? It was just a box underneath a tree he often hid away in in his youth. But, he knew, it wasn't a mere package, for it held the intricate design he was oh so familiar with, and the insides that used to be filled with joy and blessings. It was a box they would always give him on his birthday, with ways even he could never decipher. But how could it be here? He was sure he wouldn’t be able to receive such favors after a hundred years. After all, the original gifter was long gone. But, he as well, disappeared before, so who’s to say that the other wouldn’t reappear as well? It was a far fetched theory, but he brushed it off as he held the box in his hands, looking at the small card on top of it with his name signed on the top, the sender’s signature missing as always. The handwriting never changed, remaining the same standard elegant mess. He couldn’t help the smile from forming on his face, feeling a wave of nostalgia when the smooth texture of the wrapping grazed his skin and reminded him of the feelings from a century ago. It was a box filled with memories and happiness, a box that brought the guilt and longing of the sender to the hopeful receiver. A gift that wished him a happy birthday, even after a hundred years of death.

#return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #rotbb #x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #cheong myeong #chung myung #cheongmyeong #chung myung x reader #chungmyung #cheong myeong x reader #rotbb x reader #no im not late #happy cm day #happy birthday to cm woooo #they celebrate the day he was given life even after a hundred years of death guys when is it my turn

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iicomet · 8 months

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(In which he ponders over the final moments of his senior.)

(ooc? chungmyung and gn!reader - second pov, angst.)

When did everything go so wrong?

He knew that there would be losses in this fight— it was against the heavenly demon, after all. He was ready to watch his companions die before him, watch the way they take the last of their breaths and watch them lose their life fighting. He knew that that might be his own fate as well, but he knew he had to keep fighting.

He just never expected your death to be one of the firsts.

Your death was so stupid as well, to save someone else instead of your own life? Were you dumb? They could've saved themselves. He knew they were strong enough. You knew they were strong enough. You were strong enough to win.

So why did you just go ahead and die? What made you give up on your own spirit and hesitate in a moment of war, even when you're the one who took this opponent for yourself? He couldn’t understand the train of your thoughts, and even after all those years spent trying, he never seemed to be able to.

He wished he did, though.

He watched the way your eyes widened briefly at the strike, your blood rushing out of your body with a splatter and draining your face of its color. The grip on your weapon loosened, but you still held onto it like it was your lifeline. You gritted your teeth, ignoring the way blood dripped down your own skin like it was sweat and rushed forward, swinging your weapon towards everyone but the person who struck you first.

It was a cinematic beauty. The dark skies and heavy atmosphere, your strong and undefeatable spirit, a light against dark situation. The way your eyes shone with so much determination, even if the same light was slowly disappearing with each passing moment. Your sword, once smooth and powerful, struck with force that seemed to be filled with pain and regret.

He wonders, centuries later— was it your wounds that made you this way? Or was it the scars in your heart that had reopened the moment you saw your opponent, causing you to falter?

He sighs. He’ll never know.

The words you mouthed to him at the last moment as well, the desperation and guilt over taking you as you still tried to reassure him in your final moments from afar. Stupid senior.

You’re the one hurt, not him.

You’re the one who’s surrounded with enemies, your strength depleting quickly, not him.

You’re the one dying, not him.

So, so foolish. So, so reckless. So, so arrogant.

(He ignores the reminder of who he was truly describing at that moment.)

Chung Myung blinks, his vision blurring despite the tears that welled up in his eyes. No, it’s just the rain. He doesn’t cry, he’s not weak enough to cry over matters like this. After all, he had just decapitated the heavenly demon, the one who took away his comrades, his Mount Hua, his senior.

He huffed, the adrenaline rushing out of his system as the regret began to flood in. Ah, he really should’ve trained harder. He really should’ve listened. He wondered, what will become of Mount Hua after this? What will happen to everyone else? He worries, worries so much, but there wasn’t enough time to think.

His eyes began to fail him, his body falling to the ground. It felt soft, despite the hardships the people below him had carried. At that moment, he thought he saw his senior, crawling over to him with tears in their eyes, weakly calling out to him. He thought he could feel their familiar warmth, hugging his slowly freezing body that was sticky with blood.

“Chung-myung…Don’t go, Chung Myung.”

He hears, desperate and anguished.

He felt like laughing. Did his mind go crazy during the fight? His senses were all wrong now. How could he hear the voice of someone dead? They’re gone. Now, even his senior who always caught him in his mischief, couldn’t catch him anymore. He laughed—or rather, he tried— but failed, his voice stopping at his lungs that had begun to disappoint him as well.

Maybe, just maybe—he’ll see his seniors in heaven.

Even if he wouldn’t, he could always just fight gods to make sure he could meet them again.

Unfortunately, it was just a hopeless wish. How foolish of him, to even think it would come true. Perhaps this is karma for being the way he was when they were all still here.

(But, at least he’ll see them again soon.)

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iicomet · 7 months

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(pre-reincarnation!chung myung & reader)

(In which you meet him for several times.)

The first time you met him, you remember thinking one thing.

‘What a small child.’

Cold autumn air pricks at your skin, puffs of condensed air surrounding your lips, your warmth sourced from the bundles of scarves you had wrapped around yourself. Curious eyes watched the wrapped child being held in your elder’s arms; small hands, already so beaten and bruised at a young age, held back the temptation to hold him and fascinate in awe over the smaller being.

Despite being one of the older children, bearing witness to the numerous people who had joined the sect, you were still so fascinated at the younger ones being brought in. Even as you grew up in the walls of the esteemed sect, hearing people come and go through the wide doors, red painted wood opening and closing with a loud creak— You always seemed to miss the exact moment of their entry and departure, always so caught up in the swings of your wooden sword; each swing harsher than the rest, each stroke softer than before. Gaze boring into the tip of the blunt weapon as if it had wronged your entire bloodline; your mind dazed as you watched your own body be controlled by the memories of a practiced dance, over and over again. It was like you only had eyes for the sword, and nothing else.

Yet this time, you caught a sight of something else for the first time.

And that just so happens to be the first time you met that child, on October 10. Blue skies tinted with a yellowish hue, the clouds passing through the gates of the sect, watching the newest addition to the family you had grown to love over the years. Hiding above the tall pink trees that decorated the grounds, you didn’t dare to reveal yourself despite the waging curiosity and interest in your heart.

Perhaps you were afraid of dealing with a younger child, afraid of hearing it cry so suddenly in your presence; or perhaps you were afraid of being found by your seniors for slacking off, the height of your rebellious stage beginning to peek through the cracks of your innocent exterior despite being years away from reaching the peak of your adolescent adventures. They had always said that the quieter ones were the most unexpected ones, after all.

So, you continued to watch from afar, the scent of plum blossoms beginning to feel overwhelming as you surrounded yourself in it, drowning your shadows in a pink sea.

–

The second time you had met him, it was when you were assigned to take care of him, when he could barely even walk. You had wondered what kind of person he will grow into, holding chubby little hands in your bigger ones, squishing the flesh with an amused smile. He was so weak, so defenseless. Even though you were the same, merely a few years difference between the both of you, you still felt a sense of protectiveness over the boy, wanting to shield him from the harm the world could ever bring him.

At that moment, you allowed a promise to be made, to swear by a self-inflicted oath to protect the child before you. Why would you do something for someone you had just met? A child, whose only life was behind the guarded walls of the sect and surrounded with the warmth of a family, had no idea how valuable a life was.

Even so, you gave yours to him.

You gave yours to them.

A sudden tight pinch alerts you from your thoughts, flinching slightly from the death grip this child has. You tried prying off your fingers, fearing it might break, but his grip was too strong, and you didn’t want to hurt the child.

You sighed. You were never expecting a younger child to have such a monstrocious grip strength.

Maybe, you didn’t need to protect him after all. Maybe, this child was someone who might be the one to protect you in the future, instead.

You chuckled.

As if.

Even if this child grows up to be the savior of the world, you were still his senior. As his older senior, you would do your best to accompany him, so he wouldn’t be lonely. As his older senior, you had a duty to guide and protect your younger sect members. Just like how your seniors did to you, and just like how their seniors did to them.

You were his senior. You had a duty to fulfill.

–

The one hundred sixty-eighth time you had met him, he was running from his sect brother. You, who remained diligent in your training, bumped into him after a long time. Or, well, he bumped into you, causing the little findings in his hands to drop and spill onto the ground.

“Ah– There you are.”

You picked him up like a stray cat, his expression morphing from a mischievous glee to a nervous smile. He still greeted you as always, his voice abnormally innocent and kind. Cheeky little one, you bemused. As an expert is able to discern an amateur's lies, you weren’t a fool to trust his facade, having experienced the same scene that played before them over and over again while still in their youth.

It was like you could hear the sighs of your fellow sect members, shaking their heads as they hear you speak like an elder despite your young age. They would joke that perhaps an older spirit had possessed your body, causing you to act like a matured grandpa whilst adorning a teenage face. You, in turn would just solemnly nod and bemoan out loud whenever it rains, complaining about your aching knees and tired back to run from training. At first, it would work, but people soon stopped believing your act of compliance towards their jokes and forced you to return to sword swingings. What a pity.

Of course, as the kind and mature senior you were, you were about to give him advice on how to act better and let him off if he were to share with you his findings, but was unfortunately disrupted by the voice of another sect brother who came running towards the both of you, obviously exhausted. You pitied him, for a moment, deciding to continue your mask as the reliable senior instead.

To be honest, you pitied yourself more; for losing the opportunity to share a drink underneath the moonlight with your fellow disciples.

You smiled at him as he spoke words that flew from one ear to another, your mind too occupied with the devastating fates that separated you and your beloved wine. Disappointment leaks through your expression, causing your juniors to freeze.

Chung Myung-ah, you should’ve ran faster.

Placing him down, you acted as nonchalant as possible, seeing another opportunity to grab and pick up the bottles, leaving the both of them behind. You silently applauded yourself for the genius idea that appeared in your mind in the spur of the moment as you walked away, promising yourself to pay your junior back for giving you such a wonderful chance.

–

The five hundred and twelfth time you had met him, he was working hard in the training grounds you once found yourself in nearly every day, taking your place in his diligent training. You were merely passing through, taking a break from your own practices when your eyes caught the familiar tuff of black hair, standing amidst the neatly arranged crowd of disciples. Wooden sword in his hand, it reminds you of the ones you broke countless times during your past, before you were sentenced to cleaning the halls because of one too many losses.

It’s not your fault the wooden sword couldn’t handle your strength, you thought, pouting slightly as you mopped the floors clean. Unfortunately for you, the elders thought otherwise. Maybe that’s why they had you banned from using the wooden swords for a short period of time, and why they decided to exclude you from the practices right now.

…No, that’s not it. You were clearly just slacking off by telling your instructor that you had to grab the specialized sword that the sect elders made for you just to stop you from continuing to cause any more losses to their savings. Obviously, you did grab it, but you just went for the longer route to go back to your training. If they asked, you would just blame it on your weak knees.

Your attention returned to the shouts of your junior brothers as they swung their swords, eyes filled with determination to perform the best in their group. You smiled, watching the younger ones repeat the same dance you had forced yourself to do a few years back, the same fire burning their limbs underneath the sun after hours and hours of non-stop swinging.

As you walked away, footsteps softly resounding across the cobblestone pathway, the already quiet paddings underneath your feet deafened by the passionate yells from your juniors, you wondered how long it would take for him to grow stronger and become like you.

You silently hoped that it would never come.

—

The five hundred twentieth time you had met him, it was night. The moon shone above the both of you, the birds long returned to their homes and quietly entered their slumber, just like everyone else in the sect. So, why were the both of you staring at each other wide-eyed, hands holding something the both of you shouldn’t be holding?

A look of recognition was passed between the two, a silent nod and approval of each other’s action. Who would’ve thought that the senior that everyone thought was a stickler for rules was such a troublemaker? Who would’ve thought that the growing prodigy in the sect was such a troublemaker? (The latter was quite a known case, but the former was still quite a surprise to those who were not of the same generation. What a well-kept secret, indeed.)

Before the two could even do anything, a sudden flicker of light appeared from a corner, causing them to bolt into different directions, the shouts of an elder close behind them. The younger one, who was nearly caught, found himself being grabbed by the back of his neck and pulled towards a secluded place, where another senior looked at him in surprise.

Three of them stayed quiet behind the walls, their breathing soft and quiet despite the harsh beatings in their heart, the bottles in their hands nearly breaking from the sheer pressure. The seconds felt like years, the stress from being caught causing them to age several years, but it was by luck that the elder was too tired to look closer. Perhaps if he did, he would catch three delinquents with one too many bottles of wine in their possessions, staring right back at him.

‘Maybe this is why senior was always complaining about having grey hair,’ Chung Myung thought.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, the feeling of relief flooding your veins as you slowly slide down the walls and sit on the floor. Nervous hearts pounded with blood, before the adrenaline rush dies down and you find yourself chuckling, giggling softly at the excitement this brings.

It’s true when they said that laughter was contagious, for the small corner was soon filled with childish sniggerings, three unruly disciples enjoying the stolen fruits of their labor in the night together. Underneath the moonlit gleam, you shared a drink with your fellow disciples, raising your glass high in the air, cheeks red from both the alcohol and joy.

#its fluff (finally!!!)#hopefully.#return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #rotbb #x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #cheong myeong #chung myung #cheongmyeong #chung myung x reader #chungmyung #gn reader #cheong myeong x reader #return of mount hua #return of the blossoming blade x reader #would've continued it but it was getting too long/losing motivation and i might accidentally turn it into angst (AGAIN..!!)#platonic relationship intended!!#another throw back to my first fic lol #whos the extra person in the last scene i wonder #(theyre totally not related to senior reader lore...)#senior of mount hua #it does get reader centric at one point im sorry i swear i'll write cm centric in the next #maybe i'll continue this in the future because theres a very very big gap in between that im not too satisfied with.....#talking about the jump from second to hundred smth and more #the pacing is not pacing

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iicomet · 8 months

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(rewrite-ish) part II

(In which he ponders over the final moments of his senior.) (ooc? chungmyung and gn!reader - third to second pov, angst.)

(tw! mention of blood, war.)

In his blurred memories of blood and violence, he wonders where everything went wrong.

He wished it was just a simple, ‘oh, senior accidentally stumbled on their feet and landed on their face right in front of their enemies!’. But honestly, when had the gods ever favored him? If not him, when had the Gods ever favored his senior? He swore that perhaps the ever benevolent senior had wronged a deity in their past life, for their misfortune and their sufferings shouldn’t be given to a saint like them.

Or maybe that stupidly kind senior took the blame of a friend and gained their curses instead. That sounded much more plausible, to be frank. He wished he could grumble about it, but a part of him wonders why his senior became like this.

Even if he wanted to, it’s not like he could ask them now.

Chung Myung was no fool. He knew that in a war, there would be casualties, even if he was the strongest. It’s a dog-eat-dog kind of world out there, especially when the apex predator in this situation is the so-called heavenly demon Cheonma. In that situation, even him, who was renowned as the ‘plum blossom sword saint’, a person who would wreck others’ swords and pride easily with a single blow, felt like a mere rabbit struggling for survival.

It’s so, so tiring. It hurts so, so much.

Chung Myung could feel his blood drip down his skin, mixing with his sweat and producing a disgusting smell he tried to ignore. If Senior was around, maybe they would swat him away with a disgusted expression, telling him to go clean up or something. They would pinch their nose and scrunch up their eyebrows, a deep frown decorating their usual calm and collected face. During those moments, it was times where he would either be a good junior brother and obey his senior’s requests, or he would annoy them and stick closer to them, earning several frustrated shouts and futile attempts to pry him off.

He wonders, how his senior was managing? Someone as strong as them, would surely be able to fend themselves easily, right?

Oh, how he wished he was right.

But then again, perhaps the uneasy expression in his senior’s eyes before they departed for the journey would have warned him about the impending doom and unsettling feeling he had ignored at that moment. He should’ve stayed, tried to ask his senior what’s wrong, and maybe even protected his senior who shielded the entire mount hua with only a foolish smile and a sword in hand.

He really should’ve tried, even if he never managed to understand his senior.

When Chung Myung landed eyes upon his senior, he wished he could run towards them and block that swing. He wished that instead of fearing, he would’ve taken action instead. He wished that instead of shouting his senior’s name, he would’ve run and taken it for them.

Senior, why were you so stupid? Why did you only watch as the sword hits your chest, letting the tears you usually try to hold back flow down your cheeks? Why did the grip on your sword tighten as if you were going to war, yet your free hand tried to hold your opponent’s face, cradling it so softly as if they might break?

Senior, you’re so stupid. He couldn’t see your attacker’s expression, but he knew it held no love, for the desperate and heart-broken eyes you showed clearly reflected their face. The emotions you always tried to reign in, rained down your features so clearly now. The eyes that used to glimmer brightly in the sun, the eyes he used to love staring at, the eyes he could get lost in—It reflected the face of a person who he held so much hatred towards. At that moment, perhaps he was also angry that you held so much love towards that ungrateful bastard who had struck you. But, it’s all useless now, right?

Maybe you still had some sense in you when you raised your sword once more, realizing your duty and blocking off your feelings as if it was second nature. Once more, you showed your swordsmanship to the world, as if it was your final dance, your final performance before you’ve retired from the stage. Swords clashed against each other, the metal resounding across the stadium of your show as you replayed the tragedy of the eon. Light against dark, your determined expression faltering and revealing so much regret and pain. Chung Myung would’ve wondered what you regretted at that moment, for his entire life, you seemed as if you lived with no worries. But, he was no fool. He knew there were nights where you spent it alone, staring at the moon as if a lover had lost everything to the hands of fate.

Senior, why did you smile at him when your heart was so heavy with pain?

Even at that moment, where your life seemed to begin replaying before your eyes, you still smiled when you saw him, that same sheepish expression revealing itself whenever he caught you.

You whispered something to him, but he couldn’t hear it. He was too far, he always had been. And you, you had always walked too quickly for him to catch up. Not only him, you’ve always managed to outrun everyone else in Mount hua, always so far away from everyone else. Nobody could ever catch up to you. Nobody could ever understand you.

Even so, he wanted to be the first. He wanted to be there for you, just like how you were to him. So, why didn’t you give him a chance? Why did you leave so soon? Just when he thought he was able to, it seemed that you were still so, so far away from him. You always managed to catch him, so why couldn’t he do the same for you?

Senior, in your game of tag, can he play again with you soon? He promises he will try to catch you this time, so don’t leave so soon. He’s asking you politely, he swears he is. He wouldn’t be rude, he wouldn’t tease you and he wouldn’t smother you whenever you think he’s dirty. He’ll listen to you this time, so won’t you be a good senior and play again with him?

Chung Myung ignores the rain falling down his skin as he begs for the Gods to give him a chance. He ignores the way his body moves on instinct as he battles across your destroyed theater, hoping for a chance to meet you halfway through. Yet when all he is met with is the aftermath of a war, your body nowhere to be found, he falls to the ground, utterly exhausted.

Right, he had killed Cheonma.

He wanted to celebrate this moment with you. But instead, he lies there lifelessly, his body too tired to do anything. Chung Myung thinks he heard your voice, calling out to him and he is reminded of the time where you would let him rest on your shoulder when he was tired, even if he was dirty. Stupid senior, you never really cared about it, didn’t you? All you wanted was for him to be happy.

But now, you have killed his heart. How could he be happy now?

He wants to rest on your shoulder once more, hear you hum a random tune as you ramble on about whatever that interests you. He wants to hear your voice once more, and this time he promises not to grumble about your nagging. He wants to feel your warmth against his skin once more, not the cold pile of body that lays beneath him.

Senior, he wants you to come back. So please, come home already.

#return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #rotbb #x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #cheong myeong #chung myung #cheongmyeong #chung myung x reader #chungmyung #rotmhs x reader #gn reader #rotbb x reader #why am i always writing during my exams i should be studying #rewrite but it strays so far from the original fic AHAHAHAH #no beta we die like cm/senior #enjoy guys i think i like this one (so far)#i think i might rewrite the second fic before i republish it (watch me take another ten years to post again)#senior of mount hua

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