#rotbb oc

[eruisapenguin]

RIP Tang Zheng you would've loved Ao3

[cel-ju]

[tamavonpineapple]

Something about rotmhs/rotbb that always "bother" me, or at least disappointed me is the lack of female characters. Specially when it comes to Tang Soso story. The Emei sect is right there, Sichuan has an all-female sect! UGHH

I'm not aware if Emei has some relevant in novel. But goooods I just wanna see a cool, strong woman out there.

Met Sister Ā lán / 아 란 / 阿岚, The gambler- I mean the absolutely respetable second grade disciple, and "Emei's wild tide". Her sword is actually bigger than the one I ended up drawing, sorry about that.

Initially I wanter to give her short hair, but I think it works well like this. She has a Gambling addiction, she hits and then ask questions, and don't be fooled by the sword... She kicks a lot.

She's also dead.

[enihk-writes]

thunderbolts MC in the current mt hua timeline.... she still retained her flashlight eyes 😔😔😔

[cel-ju]

AS SHE SHOULD, an absolute queen

Yin Yue (oc)

Tried to draw Yin Yue in Studio Lico style

[sarotati]

Can I make a request to Chung Myung x reader?..Where did Chung Myung meet reader, his lover/wife after meeting again 100 years when they were reborn?..Chung Myung and his group had to meet a rich nobleman at the head to ask for their help so when Chung Myung heard a melodious voice because that voice did you ever sing to him while his head was on your lap?..When Chung Myung stayed with the group for a while and followed the voice to where the voice was..But he couldn't see your face because your face was covered..So the next night, you were still under the cherry blossom tree where Chung Myung sneaked out to make sure it was you.. I want some angst then extremely fluff😍💕💕

I'm sorry if I make too long..I don't know how to explain..I want to ask.. Does you read the novel?

My very first request, yay! I was so excited about it and I ended up writing it almost immediately, I'm not sure if I managed to write exactly what you wanted so I hope you tell me if there's something bad in there, I'm still learning y'know (; I honestly enjoyed writing this a lot yet maybe I added a little bit spices of mine, and I hope it's still good enough for you.

Edit: Ah silly me, I forgot to answer that last question ಠ⁠◡⁠ಠ yes I do read the novel, I haven't finished it yet though. I'm still stuck at Ch.1260 and it's hard to read super fast because 1st: I lack of free time and 2nd: the major events (almost all of them) got spoiled for me (AVOID SPOILERS AT ANY COST PUH-LEASE)

One More Thing to Regret

[Chung Myung x Reader]

Summary: He is given another chance to be a better husband for her, and so he will take it without hesitation.

WC: 8k

Note: the events take place after the spars or conference between Mount Hua and Wudang. No spoilers tho.

The chapter contains: a bit of angst, fluff, slow burn, tell me if I've forgotten anything because I'm horrible when it comes to warnings <:

Enjoy!

☆ミ

Despite the dark night that wrapped the outside world in shadows, this room was lit so brightly it could give someone a headache.

Add to that the excessive amount of alcohol consumed by disciples of all ranks, from the eldest to the youngest. Though the senior disciples didn’t indulge quite as recklessly as the others, the atmosphere was still overwhelmingly energetic.

Chung Myung chuckled as he watched some of the disciples who were nearly wiped out by drink. Baek Chun could barely sit upright or hold his cup steady while another disciple filled it for him. Soso was nearly hallucinating, and Yoo Iseol was struggling just to keep her eyes open.

He thought to himself: no matter how lively or energetic they were, they’d eventually hit their limit. Especially after facing Wudang — that fight wasn’t just physically exhausting but mentally draining too.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel entertained by the sight of them in such disarray.

The people in his past life had never been this weak with alcohol! Then again… it was hard to tell. Chung Mun had always been far too disciplined and never drank excessively, so no one could tell or know his limits.

He had shared drinks with Chung Jin sometimes times. While Chung Jin couldn’t quite keep up with him, he held his liquor surprisingly well. On the other hand, there was Tang Bo, who had been his drinking companion most of the time — the only one who could truly go toe-to-toe with him till the end.

Yes, for someone like Chung Myung who had only ever seen the world of Kangho — namely Mount Hua and Tang Bo — it was rare to find people this weak to alcohol. Not that being a martial artist necessarily meant you could drink like a fish, but perhaps it was simply the small number of people Chung Myung knew well.

‘Even a housewife wouldn’t be this bad...’

Suddenly, Chung Myung stopped drinking and took the jar away from his lips.

He rested his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, his eyes scanning the disciples behaving in ways that were far too ridiculous for their age or the dignity of their sect.

The image of his wife popped into his head unexpectedly, throwing off his senses and dragging him into a swirl of memories that dulled his awareness of the present.

Some of those memories were dear.

Others...

A faint smile crept onto his lips as the taste of alcohol in his mouth suddenly turned bitter.

He stood up quietly. Though a few disciples noticed him, he muttered some vague excuse and left the gathering that the disciples had completely taken over.

Though their voices still pierced the thick brick walls and thin doors, the outside was far quieter by comparison.

But it did nothing to ease the sudden, dull headache that took hold of him.

The alcohol jar now hung at his side, forgotten. Chung Myung's pinkish eyes wandered upward, to the dark sky dotted with scattered clouds.

Yet they failed to obscure the moon’s radiant glow in the darkness. Chung Myung pressed his lips together tightly as her face flickered into his mind.

His feet began moving down the corridor slowly, as if he had no destination — which wasn’t entirely wrong.

He’d come out to clear his head. Or perhaps because he knew he wouldn’t be able to, and didn’t want anyone noticing his discomfort.

Chung Myung had many things he regretted — his negligence, his mindset, thousands of choices in his past life.

Somewhere on that long list stood her, the woman people once referred to as his wife. One of the people he had wronged the most.

Any other woman wouldn’t have lasted a single day with him.

Scratch that — even their first meeting had been a disaster.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, but the memory of himself acting like a child in a tantrum refused to leave his mind.

~

He remembered it well. A blazing summer day when one of the elders made a life-changing decision — without asking him or getting his consent. Come to think of it, even if things hadn’t turned out poorly, didn’t he have every right to be angry about being forced into an arranged marriage without so much as a heads-up?

“Are you kidding me?!”

Chung Myung turned his glare away from Baek Oh, who seemed utterly unmoved by his outrage, and fixed his bloodshot eyes on Chung Mun.

“What is this nonsense?! Sahyung, say something!”

But Chung Mun only sighed. He turned to Baek Oh with a faintly composed expression — he too was deeply shocked by the sheer absurdity of what their senior had said, but couldn’t say it out loud.

“Sasuk… I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this feels a bit premature—”

“No, it’s not premature at all.”

The elder turned his gaze toward Chung Myung, and if looks could kill, Baek Oh would have been a pile of ashes from the glare Chung Myung gave him.

“You’re nearly forty, yet you still act recklessly and wildly, like no one ever taught you discipline.”

Baek Oh rose from his seat and walked toward the door, brushing past Chung Myung, whose clenched fists and grinding teeth seemed moments from shattering bone.

“Consider this the result of your unrestrained freedom all these years.”

He spat in disgust and shut the door behind him. Chung Myung slammed the table in front of him with such fury that it cracked straight down the middle. He stood and stormed out.

Chung Mun let out a long sigh in the silence that followed.

He had a very bad feeling about this.

Later, one could say Chung Myung had a full-blown panic attack. He ran to Sichuan like a madman, not stopping for breath.

“What do you mean he’s not here?! Where else would he be?!”

Two young members of the Tang family trembled at the gate, but impressively kept straight faces. Frankly, it was a miracle their legs hadn’t buckled yet. The look on Chung Myung’s face would terrify a demon.

They couldn’t even stop him when he vaulted over the gate and made a beeline for Tang Bo’s residence.

The wooden door flew off its hinges and smashed against the opposite wall. Chung Myung took one look at the hastily packed bags and then locked eyes on Tang Bo, who was plastered against the wall, drenched in sweat — apparently having dodged the flying door at the last moment.

“Hyung-nim… we can talk about this like civilized peop—”

“Civilized?! I’ll show you what is so civilized!!”

“Hyung— Gkkkghkgh—”

Tang Bo began turning blue as Chung Myung strangled him and shook him back and forth, shouting like he could spew fire at any moment.

“You knew about this arranged marriage crap! How could you let this happen?!”

“Hyung—!!! Gkkghh! No—!!… air!!”

For a moment, Tang Bo genuinely felt his soul leaving his body. To think he’d die at the hands of Chung Myung… and before he could even get him to acknowledge him as a friend!

He was saved only by the sound of approaching footsteps at the entrance.

“Bo-ya, I heard your friend came loo—”

Both men turned toward the door as a woman entered and looked at them with a blank expression.

A moment of silence passed before she turned around and walked out.

“My apologies for the interruption.”

“You—!”

“Nuna! Wait, help!!”

The two men scrambled after her — to fix the misunderstanding, and in Tang Bo’s case, to possibly save his own life.

Eventually, the misunderstanding was cleared up… somehow.

In front of Tang Bo’s house, the two men stood alongside the woman who eyed them both. Chung Myung was fuming, stomping the ground, though admittedly calmer than when he had arrived.

The woman raised an eyebrow.

“So… you were just fighting?”

“Of course! How could you even misinterpret it that badly?!”

Chung Myung was genuinely baffled. The broken door, the half-dead Tang Bo — it screamed ‘fight.’ Were her eyes broken?

He looked at her. She was glancing between the two of them thoughtfully, then sighed and shrugged.

“Well, good. I was just about to ask for the engagement to be called off.”

“Ah… yeah… wait, what?!”

Chung Myung stopped mid-nod and blinked in disbelief. His eyes looked as empty as a dumb fish.

He glanced at Tang Bo, who bolted and hid behind the woman in panic. What, did he think Chung Myung wouldn’t hit her just because she was a woman?

He looked back at her with narrowed, skeptical eyes. She had her arms crossed and stared at him without a hint of concern or hesitation.

“Engagement? Our engagement?”

“Yeah.”

“So you're...”

“Yup.”

A vein throbbed in Chung Myung’s forehead. So it was her. That damn brat. He wanted to grab her and bury her under her family's marble floors so she’d never set foot on Mount Hua ever.

“Tsk. As I thought. How dare they suggest this child—”

Chung Myung growled with pure hostility, but stopped when he noticed Tang Bo sneaking up beside him, risking his life. That meant he had something important to say.

“Hyung… Nuna’s not a child.”

Chung Myung stared at him, then looked back at her. He pointed a finger at her, but before he could say a word, Tang Bo whispered a number in his ear. Chung Myung’s mouth snapped shut.

“That... Tsk, still suspicious!”

He put one hand on his hip and kept pointing at her with the other.

“If she’s that age, why isn’t she married yet?! There’s definitely something wrong with her!”

“Uh… well…”

When Tang Bo hesitated, eyes shifting away, Chung Myung felt the urge to punch his face. But then Tang Bo whispered in an even more reluctant voice:

"She’s been engaged five times before..."

"What...?"

"The first broke it off. The second died. The third broke it off. The fourth died. The fifth broke it off. And the sixth..."

Tang Bo paused and cleared his throat awkwardly, then gave Chung Myung a look filled with heavy implication.

Chung Myung blinked slowly as realization dawned.

He was the sixth.

"What... I thought you already knew."

Chung Myung turned toward the woman in confusion. She was smiling—but it didn’t reach her eyes.

"Though the rumors never made it out of Sichuan, I figured that had changed. Isn’t that why you rushed here to cancel the engagement?"

A vein throbbed on Chung Myung’s forehead, but the woman kept talking like she had no concern for her own safety.

"I get it. No one wants to be the next. So they all run as fast as they can. Ah, I can’t even blame you."

"Run?? Me?!"

Chung Myung shouted, and Tang Bo barely managed to hold him back before his fists could land. But the woman only let out a mocking laugh.

"Aren’t you here to break off the engagement?"

Chung Myung faltered for a moment, and the words he thought would slip out smoothly—as if his tongue had been greased—suddenly evaporated without the faintest chance of reaching any ears.

"Am I wrong?"

When she tilted her head just so, her face suddenly looked like a punching bag. Was she asking to be hit now?

Chung Myung clicked his tongue angrily and stomped away. But before long, he returned, dragging Tang Bo along like luggage.

He couldn’t be the one to break off the engagement now. Not that it would make much difference, but he couldn’t let his pride suffer that kind of blow—not in front of that woman. And if word spread, all of Sichuan would say he “ran” for his life. Given his widespread reputation, that rumor would travel far.

Just imagining the Southern Edge disciples laughing about it gave him stomach pain. Literal stomach pain.

So the only way out of this mess was to get the Tang family to cancel the engagement themselves.

That’s why Chung Myung had been sabotaging every plan that involved them. If they scheduled a meeting, he’d vanish—or arrive late if the elders managed to force him to show up. He’d toss out every rude, arrogant, and wholly unnecessary comment in the book.

She was, surprisingly, more patient than expected.

But that didn’t mean he was getting off unscathed.

Like now...

"Oh, look who’s still alive. Fiancé."

Chung Myung felt his blood boil. That smug smile, that tone, the mere fact that she called him that—infuriating beyond words.

As always, he didn’t return the greeting. She didn’t care enough to be bothered. She turned to her handmaidens, giving Chung Myung a short moment to sneak a glance at her appearance.

It was the same as usual—whether at Mount Hua, the Tang household, or elsewhere. Dressed in expensive, green silk, decked in jewelry and ornaments practically everywhere, and so heavily perfumed it was like she'd been marinated in the stuff. It wasn’t a too strong scent that it's unpleasant, exactly—just very... noticable.

When she turned back to him, his expression had grown even more annoyed. That only seemed to amuse her further.

"What’s wrong? Won’t you say something to your beautiful fiancée?"

"Beautiful, my ass."

Her lips twitched, like she was about to hurl an insult in return—but she sighed and let it slide. Chung Myung rolled his eyes, disappointed and angry.

At least today’s meeting was in a restaurant. Not everything about this was awful—there was food.

The place had been chosen specifically for its private rooms. Of course, an engaged couple couldn’t be left alone, so one of her handmaidens stood right outside the door.

"What, you’re not eating this?"

"Oh, I am."

She snatched back the dish he’d tried to swipe, and they stared each other down like predators. Sparks flew between them.

"Then I assume you’re not eating this one!"

"You—!"

She couldn’t save that other dish. In a blink, it had disappeared into Chung Myung’s stomach with masterful efficiency.

"I can’t believe you! How can you eat all that in one go?!"

"Unlike you, I actually do so much effort everyday! I’m not some pampered princess who needs a servant just to get dressed!"

She gasped, clutching her chest like she’d just been mortally wounded. For a moment, Chung Myung actually thought she had been.

"How dare you?!"

She glared at him like he’d just stolen her fiancé — though, ironically, Chung Myung was the only one that title could possibly belong to. He raised a brow and replied nonchalantly while still chewing.

"What? I didn’t say anything false."

"You didn’t?! You’re the one who overslept until noon and showed up late!"

Chung Myung choked on his food and thumped his chest until he recovered. Then he jabbed his chopsticks at her.

"It's not my fault that sleeping sounds more productive than spending the day with you!"

"Oh really?!"

Her patience snapped. She grabbed a bowl of soup and hurled it at him, but Chung Myung casually tilted his head and caught it without spilling a single drop.

"Hey! Don’t waste—"

He didn’t finish. He had to catch two more dishes. He glared at her as he set them back down, but she had already started eating—aggressively, even.

Chung Myung, who didn’t know a thing about women’s etiquette, could still tell this was not proper.

"Fine. Keep watching while I make sure you don’t get a single grain of rice."

A vein pulsed in his forehead, and he dug in like they were racing against time.

And yet—even after this utter disaster of a date—Chung Myung didn’t receive any news of the Tang family canceling the engagement.

Not even when the day of the wedding came—as if it were a death sentence for his poor freedom—did he give up. He suffered as they replaced his bed with a double, as he watched himself cloaked in blinding red robes, and as he saw her dressed in matching red.

To be honest, Chung Myung would be lying if he said she wasn’t beautiful. It would be stupid to say otherwise. She had been pretty even the first time they met—without all the glitz and glam—so of course she looked stunning now.

But that didn’t matter to Chung Myung. He wasn’t the kind of man swayed by a pretty face, nor had women ever really been a subject of interest to him. That wasn’t going to change.

And of course, the wedding did not go smoothly—at least not for either of them. Lord Tang nearly cried, thrilled that his daughter finally got married and that Chung Myung had broken the "curse" or whatever nonsense plagued her previous fiancés.

They stepped on each other’s feet multiple times during the ceremony, which Chung Myung considered idiotic to begin with. Looking back, he’d acted like a sulky child. Then again, she wasn’t exactly the picture of grace either.

Naturally, their wedding night wasn’t normal either. Chung Myung never even stepped inside his– sorry, now.. their house. He disappeared at some point and ended up sitting quietly on the rooftop, a bottle of liquor in hand.

He nearly choked when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned in alarm—only to see her climbing up, making her way toward him.

He tried to get up and flee, but somehow she reached his side in an instant and yanked him back down by the shoulder.

"Ah! What do you want from me?!"

For some reason, sitting beside her now made him uncomfortable. The reason was obvious, really. But she didn’t seem to care. She sat beside him, leaving more space between them than any married couple should.

"Stop running. It’s already over."

"Tsk."

Chung Myung clicked his tongue and looked away, chin resting in his hand.

"I’m not going back inside."

"You think I came here to ask that?"

For some reason, those words gave Chung Myung a strange sense of relief. But also curiosity. He glanced toward her—just enough to get a look.

She’d showered and changed. Her usually styled and ornamented brown hair was damp, hanging simply down her back. No makeup, no red wedding dress in sight.

"Honestly... I’ve been nervous since yesterday."

That puzzled Chung Myung a bit. It is natural, really—even he had been on edge. So he didn’t get why she had to say—

"...I’ve been expecting news of your death at any moment."

She smiled slyly, and his hand clenched into a fist. He fought the urge. Chung Mun had already threatened him for three hours that morning not to do anything stupid tonight.

"Tch, you believe in that superstitious crap?"

"The superstition crap started with me, Chung Myung."

She sighed helplessly. Chung Myung nearly leaned back when she looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"I know you don’t want to be tied down with the duties of a husband or whatever. Isn’t that your real reason for refusing marriage?"

Chung Myung’s eyes widened like she’d just said the last thing he ever expected. But he quickly collected himself and glared at her with furrowed brows.

"How did you..."

"A little bird told me!"

Chung Myung swore he wanted to gouge her eyes out just to make her stop looking at him with that infuriating stare. But he remembered Chung Mun’s threat again—and decided to hold himself back.

"And then?"

"I won't stand in the way of your freedom. In fact, I'd never to try to force you into something you hate."

That was pathetic in her opinion, and for a prideful woman like her, she could die before she asks for his attention.

And it's not like she needed it anyway.

His lips trembled for a moment, but he pressed them tightly together, saying nothing — because he had the sinking feeling she was about to say something worse.

"I won’t wait for anything of you. Let’s just live as housemates."

She turned to look at Chung Myung, her gaze unwavering. She had always acted either provocatively or ridiculously around him, so this was the first time he ever felt a faint aura emanating from her—one that radiated the dignity worthy of the famous Tang name.

She didn’t need extravagant jewelry, clothes, or perfume to give off that impression. All it took was the intention to carry herself that way.

"So…"

Her lips parted again, and her brows were slightly lower than usual.

"Stop looking at me like I'm a parasite."

After throwing those words at him, she went silent for a moment, then stood up and walked to the edge before leaping down.

"Feel free to come in whenever you want. I won’t be waiting."

Chung Myung heard the door close behind her. From the outside, he may have seemed absent-minded—but in truth, a storm of thoughts was ripping through his head.

He was sure this would end badly. Thankfully, his gut was wrong this time.

So why did he still have this ominous feeling?

Of course, the one who was most upset was Baek Oh, since it was obvious that even after getting married, Chung Myung was still far too free-spirited.

But for some reason he became less complaining.

So, perhaps this could be counted as a good thing.

Despite the fact that her presence should’ve felt completely unnatural, she blended into the space so easily—as if she'd always lived in his house. It wasn’t nearly as tense as he’d imagined.

Their time together mostly boiled down to bickering. Sometimes he’d yank the pillow from under her head, and she’d retaliate by pulling out his chair. Occasionally, they’d sneak into the kitchen to make something to satisfy their midnight cravings — sometimes they got caught, sometimes they didn’t. Chung Myung still remembered his surprise the first time he found out she could cook. For a woman of her status, you wouldn’t expect she’d seen a kitchen more than a handful of times in her life.

He remembers how it seemed like she enjoyed it a lot.

Still, Chung Myung didn’t complain—except when she cooked only for herself and didn’t save him a portion. But she’d usually grumble that she hadn’t expected him to come home that night anyway.

Chung Myung had expected a much worse life than this.

But it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all.

For many years, Chung Myung had thought everything was going a little too smoothly.

~

And… he hadn’t been wrong.

Chung Myung was away from the sect most of the time. And every time he remembered how little thought he’d given it all, he felt like he hated himself a little more.

He stared at the bottle of liquor in his hand, then brought it to his lips, hoping to drown in it.

He didn’t think about the judgment or the accusations she must’ve endured. Sometimes, he forgot she was even his wife. Why wasn’t he home most nights? Why didn’t they have a child yet? Why couldn’t she—as his wife— manage to keep him at home like other men?

Of course, in cases like this, it was never the husband’s fault. No, people always blamed the woman... She’s wicked. Disobedient. Difficult to live with. So incompetent her husband prefers wandering the streets at night over coming home to her—

Chung Myung slapped a hand over his mouth as nausea surged up his throat. He leaned against one of the pillars that supported the corridor roof overlooking the courtyard.

Just the thought of all the times she must’ve heard that kind of talk — those venomous words that insulted her dignity and honor — without being able to say a word in her defense. All the times Baek Oh scolded her in his place when he couldn’t find Chung Myung. She was the perfect punching bag for his frustration. All the times she sat alone in that empty house, preferring loneliness than dealing with people's stares and gossip…

The more he thought about it, the more he understood why she’d eventually asked for a divorce.

Chung Myung bit down on his lip bitterly, trying to hold down the liquor rising up his throat again. His lips parted with hesitation, he whispered her name softly, like he was confessing every sin he’d ever committed — as if he didn’t deserve even this small act.

And just as he was drowning in the monstrous chaos of his thoughts, a sound tore him out of it.

He lifted his head, glancing around with faint panic. His expression shifted as though he was doubting his own hearing. Then he froze when he heard it again.

It was a melody—a faint, familiar one. Barely audible, but to a martial artist with sharp senses like him, clear enough to recognize.

Chung Myung laughed. A dry, hollow laugh — not from the heart. His feet moved forward, taking him deeper into the corridor.

"It’s just a damned song..."

A folk tune. It wasn’t even something she made up. She must’ve heard it from someone. If someone taught it to her, then surely others knew it too.

So… why now?

What kind of ridiculous coincidence was this?

Why only when he thought of her?

His walk turned into a jog. Then a run. But it wasn’t nearly as chaotic as the pounding in his chest — every beat of it whispering her name like an accusation.

His eyes widened when he realized he could no longer hear the tune. It had stopped.

Chung Myung slowed down, the energy draining from his limbs as quickly as it had surged in. His face twisted uncontrollably, and his teeth clenched hard, as if trying to suppress his rising frustration.

'Was I imagining things?'

Had he drunk too much? Was grief tricking his mind into hearing things that weren’t there? First Chung Mun’s voice… now this?

He couldn’t even begin to describe the frustration eating at him.

He turned around, ready to leave and stop acting like a fool.

But he froze when he heard a door creak open from the direction he had just come from.

And suddenly—the melody returned.

No. This time it wasn’t the tune that knocked the wind out of him.

It was the voice humming it.

Every ounce of energy that had filled him moments before vanished. Cold sweat drenched his back, and his fingers stiffened unnaturally.

He turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder — and saw a girl's back. She was walking away toward the courtyard, where plum trees bloomed.

Chung Myung swallowed hard. He wanted to slap himself or rub his eyes to make sure this wasn’t a dream. But he was too scared to confirm it.

The moonlight glinted off brown hair tied into a bun. She placed a dish beside a tree trunk, and several small cats approached, drawn by the scent of food.

He didn’t even realize his feet were moving until he was already walking toward her, half-believing she would vanish like a mirage the moment he got too close.

She froze before she could pet one of the cats, as she heard her name being called by him. She stayed like that for a few seconds before slowly turning toward him.

Though the lower half of her face was covered by a white cloth mask, his heart sank when he saw those eyes. They weren’t the same jade-green they used to be — but those lids, those lashes — he’d know that shape of eyes anywhere.

"You—"

She stood up before he could say anything more and turned as if to leave. But Chung Myung couldn’t even imagine letting that happen. He lunged forward so fast the kittens scattered into the trees, but he only cared about grabbing her.

His hand clamped tightly around her wrist. She turned, her brows furrowed in mild hostility — but when her eyes landed on his expression, something shifted. Her gaze grew more complicated.

Chung Myung’s lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. Yet she didn’t wait.

"What are you doing here? Guests aren't allowed in this area."

She tried to pull her hand away, but Chung Myung didn’t care. The world was playing tricks on his mind, and it wasn’t funny — not when he could hear that voice again and wasn’t sure if this was real or not.

"Don’t you recognize me?"

He asked slowly, his voice oddly calm, completely opposite to the chaos inside. He shook his head faintly, unable to look away.

"No, you did recognize me… just now… you know me."

Chung Myung felt his eyes sting. Odd.. it was like they were too dry. He saw her expression grow even more conflicted.

"You’re just drunk…"

She muttered, trying to move past him. But his grip wouldn’t release her. She looked at him firmly, but there was softness in her eyes she couldn’t hide.

"Come on, now."

She murmured more gently and took his other hand.

Chung Myung’s grip on her wrist loosened when he felt her smaller hand wrap around his rough, calloused one — scarred by years of swordplay and hardship. And maybe… just maybe… he felt some warmth push aside the bitterness in his chest.

She led him back to where she had come from, and they entered a room together. When he looked around, he realized they were in a large kitchen. The scent of food from the dinner the guild had prepared still lingered faintly.

When Chung Myung turned his attention back to her, he found a glass of water waiting for him.

He drank in silence, downing it all at once. The cold water washed away the bitter, foul taste in his mouth, clearing his head just a little.

“Sit.”

She gestured toward a chair by the table in the middle of the kitchen. Chung Myung scowled in annoyance and looked at her, but she rolled her eyes.

“It’s not like I could run away even if I wanted to. I’m not a martial artist, after all.”

When he thought about it for a moment, Chung Myung realized she wasn’t wrong. A regular person had little to no chance against a martial artist—let alone someone like him.

He let go of her hand, a trace of hesitation still lingering. And he didn’t flinch when she patted his shoulder in passing. No—he almost did, but he didn’t.

He slowly pulled the chair back and sat down. His eyes followed the ghost-like figure in front of him—though she felt more real now than ever.

She moved between cabinets, preparing tea for him, it seemed.

Tea... yes, tea would help his headache, especially...

Chung Myung felt his chest tighten again.

„What? Did you drink too much again? Goodness.“

—

Those eyes—he remembered them—always looking at him with a mix of helplessness and weary familiarity. He used to face those eyes every time he came home from a drinking session with Tang Bo.

Really now, he wasn't drunk just because his face was a little flushed!

“I’m not drunk.”

Chung Myung muttered in irritation as he stepped away from the doorframe, rolling his eyes at her muttered complaints.

In fact, he usually drank more with Tang Bo. But for some reason, tonight, he had brought several jars of alcohol home.

Why… Did you ask?

Because Tang Bo had been genuinely shocked when he found out Chung Myung had never drunk with her before.

Even Chung Myung himself had found it strange, if only for a moment, when he realized he’d never thought of it before. It would make sense, wouldn't it? For someone who loves alcohol like he does, to want to share a drink with everyone important in his life.

He froze mid-step just before passing her. She looked at him, puzzled. He lowered his gaze toward her.

Important?

An important person?

Yes—it should’ve been easy to call her that. After nearly fifty years of living together, how could she not be important to him?

But why did using that word for her stir something strange inside him now?

A bead of sweat slid down her cheek. She blinked but didn’t look away. She didn’t break eye contact.

“Are you coming in or...?”

“Ah... yeah.”

"C'mon, I'll make you some tea."

Chung Myung nodded. As she moved to close the door behind him, he watched her every motion intently.

Tang Bo’s surprised face still hovered in his mind, forcing him to think about things he’d never bothered to consider before.

„You’ve never shared a drink with her?!“

That was the first accusation ever directed at Chung Myung in this relationship.

And it opened the floodgates for more questions to trickle in—

About intentions, thoughts, experiences, desires, emotions, dreams... What did Chung Myung know?

What had he ever known? Had he even tried?

His hand moved on its own, resting on her shoulder to stop her from walking past him. He was startled — it wasn’t something he ever did. But let’s just blame the alcohol.

She looked at him, puzzled. He spoke with a nearly flat voice, holding up the rope in his hand. Tied at the end were the jars of alcohol he’d brought home.

“Let’s drink.”

~

Tang Bo hadn’t lied...

The thud of pottery cup hitting the wooden table echoed softly. Her eyes were still calm and focused even after the third jar, though her cheeks had taken on a faint blush.

Chung Myung watched her with unnerving focus for a man who’d drunk enough alcohol to kill an ox. Of course, he wasn’t entirely conscious — if he had been, she wouldn’t have caught him staring at her.

Judging by her expression, she wasn’t completely unaffected either. There was a haze in her gaze, and her features were more relaxed than usual.

How did Chung Myung even notice the difference, being someone who didn’t care about such details? Don’t ask — he’s confused too.

Yes, maybe he was a little interested. But why? Was her reaction unusual? No—people often relaxed after some drinks. He’d seen it countless times with his comrades.

But for some reason, he felt obliged to pay attention. No, it was the least he could do.

Or no... maybe it was just a way to dull the ominous feeling gnawing at his chest.

No, no...

That wasn’t right.

Each time she set her cup down — each thud on the wooden table — it got worse.

Chung Myung didn’t know when it had started. He didn’t know why his shoulders were tense or why his expression had grown so unreadable.

In bars, you see all kinds of drunkards.

The angry, the dreamy, the emotional, the cheerful.

Chung Myung had dealt with most of them. But someone whose face grew darker with each cup? That was a first.

She picked up the jar again, refilling both their cups. Again. And again. The silence was suffocating. For some reason, Chung Myung couldn’t bring the cup any closer to his lips. He couldn’t break the silence. He could only wrestle alone with the storm of thoughts swirling inside him.

Finally, when she saw his hand freeze mid-reach, she stopped too, gently setting her cup down. She sighed softly through her nostrils — he noticed it.

And nothing could describe the crushing feeling inside him when she looked at him again, and that strange face — the one he’d never seen before — vanished.

Why? Was he not trustworthy enough? Was he so worthless that she had to fake her emotions around him? After all these years, didn’t he deserve at least one honest look? One real attempt to understand?

Chung Myung didn’t know why, but her simple look felt like a shove, pushing him away.

Then she opened her mouth, and the words fell from her lips, taking his heart with them as they dropped all together.

“Let’s get divorced, Chung Myung.”

“…”

The cup slipped from his fingers, rolling across the wooden table. The strong-smelling liquor spilled onto the smooth surface.

“What...?”

Once, Chung Myung had tried desperately to keep this woman out of his life — fearing she’d change it, take something from him.

Then one day, he discovered she wouldn't take anything at all. And he’d been grateful, because it meant her presence made no difference to him.

He was supposed to feel nothing. She was supposed to have no impact. Her presence — or absence — shouldn’t have mattered.

“…Divorce?”

Chung Myung muttered as though he’d just uttered a vile curse. As though he'd just been stabbed in the back, deeply.

“You can’t just say that… like it’s nothing.”

His voice was rough, but quiet. Steady, but barely hanging on.

Bitterness exploded inside him when she looked away. A strange burn, a tightness, a bitter knot in his throat. It felt like barbed wire was wrapping around it, biting into his skin with every breath.

“Why?”

He hissed. His large hand gripped her face, making her look at him again. He moved slightly, but even that small movement showed just how tense every inch of him had become.

She didn’t bother to hide the tension anymore. It would’ve been ridiculous to stay calm in such a moment.

“Chung Myung-ah…”

“That’s bullshit!”

He let go of her face, only to grip her shoulders immediately after. His hold wasn’t gentle — but not painful either. Just firm. Just urgent.

“Why the hell would you say something like that?!”

She clearly hadn’t expected such an intense reaction from him, not over this. She hadn’t thought divorce would matter to him so much, since neither of them had ever considered themselves a real couple.

“I was joking.”

She spoke quickly, trying to brush it off. His grip slackened for a moment. She forced a crooked smile — but even in his drunken state, he saw the lie in it.

“I didn’t know you’d react like that, hehe~ Since when can’t you bear to part from me?”

When she tilted her head and asked that, Chung Myung tried to hold his expression. Told himself to stay angry. To demand answers. But in the end, his expression twitched, betraying him.

“Shut up.”

“What? Ignoring the question, huh?”

“Tsk.”

He clicked his tongue, discomfort still gnawing at him. He finally let go of her shoulders and turned away. Rested his head on the table, refusing to look at her.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Oh? Acting like a child now? That suits you.”

He didn’t respond, though he was provoked enough to. His mind was too tired, too tangled with thoughts that refused to leave him alone.

Then he felt a soft touch on his head. His eyelashes fluttered, heavy with sleep. A shiver ran down his spine as her fingers removed his hair tie and ran through his hair twice before toying gently with random strands.

A humming sound echoed faintly in his ears, growing clearer with each passing moment. Still gentle. Still quiet.

And yet, the storm inside him remained.

~

The crackle of fire, the boiling water, the hush of nighttime sounds.. they all disrupted that melody. Or maybe… they gave it a haunting beauty.

But the point is — it stirred something strange and aching in him.

So much that Chung Myung felt…

She turned toward him in surprise at the sudden voice of his head hitting the table. Sighing softly as she poured the tea into glass cups.

The day after that night — or rather, in the tense days that followed — Chung Myung did not leave the sect grounds. Not even once.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe such a blatant lie. From her reaction, he knew the problem wasn’t him, not really.

Even if he assumed she wanted a divorce over something trivial, maybe she was bored of their life together, or perhaps she wanted something else... he had no idea, not even a guess.

But that look in her eyes — that heavy, dark impression — couldn’t have come from nowhere.

And so, Chung Myung took it upon himself to understand everything. Even when she told him nothing was wrong, he knew it was a lie. She was just too stubborn to ask for help — let alone for even the slightest bit of attention.

He had forgotten all of it over the years, or maybe he simply thought everything was fine. That he would notice if something ever went wrong.

Turns out he was wrong. And she had been more stubborn than he ever imagined. If she lived by the rule that attention should never be asked for, who knew how many years she kept that silent request buried within her, never letting it surface?

Chung Myung still remembered the shock of realizing that the peaceful, lazy life he imagined was nothing more than a figment of his own mind — an illusion, far removed from reality.

His brow twitched when he heard the clink of the glass cup placed on the table. It wasn’t loud, but to his ears, it rang sharp like a knife. Perhaps it was because his head rested on the table, but it also struck him with a strange sense of deja vu.

“Your tea will get cold.”

She murmured as she sat down in the chair beside him. She knew he didn’t like tea that much anyway, not enough to worry about it cooling, but she needed to break the silence with anything she could.

She reached up and untied the knot securing her mask, removing it and setting it aside — it had lost its purpose now that he'd recognized her. She lifted the cup to her lips, and in that moment, Chung Myung turned to look at her. A faint flicker of familiarity sparked in his eyes when he finally saw her face.

He didn’t know how old she was in this body, but her face was unmistakably the same as in her past life — only younger, healthier too maybe.

“How is Mount Hua?”

She asked with a hint of curiosity, resting her cheek against her palm. Chung Myung felt a strange stirring deep in his gut at the eye contact — something he never experienced when looking at any other disciple or elder.

He didn’t answer her question. As if he hadn’t heard it at all, he suddenly lifted his head off the table and turned to her. Her attention returned to him instantly.

“Mount Hua...”

He began hesitantly, as if he hadn’t planned what to say, as if the words were difficult to arrange. Yet his tone remained steady and composed.

“Come back to Mount Hua with me.”

“...”

She stared at him in silence, her expression unreadable. When she turned back to her teacup, he continued.

“It won’t happen again. I swear. Just trust me—”

“That had nothing to do with you, Chung Myung-ah.”

She cut him off firmly, as if she saw no point in hearing the rest. She already knew what he was about to say.

“I chose that life, and I’ll never place the burden of my own decisions on you. Don’t even think about it.”

Chung Myung frowned at her words and, with firm resolve, scooted his chair closer, loud enough to cause some unnecessary noise. She instinctively leaned back for a moment, but he caught her arms before she could retreat.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His tone was a mixture of annoyance and certainty.

“I’m not saying this to feel better about what happened. I just want you by my side.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Chung Myung felt like something was off. A silence fell, and she looked at him like he had grown another head.

Sweat gathered on his brow when he saw the sly smile forming on her lips.

“Oh ho~? What’s this? Are you proposing to me again in your new life? Isn’t that just romantic?”

Chung Myung sputtered out some incoherent nonsense and turned away. She laughed, so there was no doubt his expression had given something away. His grip on her arms wavered — but he didn’t let go.

“Tch. This evil woman...”

“Aw~ But you love me, don't you~?”

“You—!”

He looked at her, clearly flustered, but froze when he saw her smile.

Her eyes were so lively. There was a glimmer in her irises beneath the moonlight, it expressed a feeling that words couldn’t describe.

Her lips shaped a tender curve, and Chung Myung felt his heart seize as he took in the sight, still struggling to process it.

“Do you really need me by your side, Chung Myung-ah?”

“...”

“Is that what you truly want?”

As the question sank into his mind, Chung Myung nodded without hesitation. There was no reason to delay.

Her smile widened more than before, and he didn’t miss the faint blush coloring her cheeks. The sight was nearly dizzying.

“I see.”

She hummed, gently patting his cheek like she was waking him from a dream. But to Chung Myung, reality felt more intense than any dream.

One moment, there was a quiet, amused chuckle from her lips—and in the next, their lips were sealed together, stealing her breath.

Without hesitation, but slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her head, and ran her fingers through his black hair, occasionally tangling in his long, thick ponytail.

It wasn’t just a first kiss. It was a silent apology. A confession. A warm, longing welcome.

—

“Who’s… coming…?”

“Yes, I’ll be joining you on the way to Huayin. I hope that’s alright?”

“Ah! No, wait.. we have to ask the sect leader first, but I doubt he’d refuse…”

Baek Chun glanced back nervously, receiving a confused nod from Hyun Jong before turning to her again.

“Ah, looks like he’s not refusing.”

“Excellent!”

They both smiled—hers warm, his more awkward.

“Um… pardon me…”

“Yes? Please speak?”

As the girl tilted her head in innocent curiousity, Baek Chun glanced at the stiff man she was clinging to his arm, as if they were... well, something.

“He... uh… hmm…”

Baek Chun couldn’t find the right words. He waved his hands helplessly in the air. The other disciples watched, equally confused, hoping for clarity.

“Miss… what’s your relationship with Chung Myung?”

“Oh, Chung Myung-ah?”

It was like the disciples’ ears doubled in size hearing the familiar, affectionate tone she used. Their eyes widened even more when Chung Myung didn’t so much as flinch — like he was made of stone.

No… even that paled in comparison to when they saw her hans — no, just the fingertips — brush feather-lightly along his right biceps.

“Although it’s not official on paper, I suppose you could say I’ve finally found the husband I lost years ago.”

Silence. No one dared to comment. She laughed and released his arm.

“Well then, I should go resign from the Guild. Excuse me!”

The disciples stared in stunned silence as she walked away. Then all eyes turned to the man she’d left behind.

“He doesn’t seem…”

Jo Gul mumbled, lightly tapping Chung Myung with a finger, as if checking whether he was the real Chung Myung or an absurdly realistic statue. Frankly, the latter would’ve made more sense.

But Chung Myung toppled backward at the gentle poke. The disciples panicked — and Jo Gul was kicked aside as Soso stepped forward to handle the crisis.

“Hold yourself together, sahyung!”

The woman knelt beside him. She heard him mumbling something incomprehensible. When she placed a hand on his forehead, she quickly withdrew it, rubbing her palm like it had been burned.

“He’s just delirious.”

The disciples swore, if they could, they would each drop their jaws and leave for Mount Hua without it.

This — this time — was not an ordinary morning for the disciples of Mount Hua.

☆彡

A little addition~: Chung Myung tried his best to understand the problem after she asked for a divorce, and made sure to cause a stir in the sect when she went to visit her family. Especially against Baek Oh.

Unfortunately, it was the time that the Demon Cult showed up for the first time and attacked the Tang Family, and she was one of the first victims of that attack.

That's why Chung Myung didn't have the chance to be better to her.

Ending <3

[tama-journey-to-inspiration]

"It was like watching a peacock and a vulture get along"

The first person to ever welcome Tang Zhōng back into the clan was his younger brother Fei, of whom the aforementioned never knew about. But despite their differences, there were never bad blood between them.

One could only wonder how things ended up the way they did, and Zhōng was the one taking care of Tang Fei's son, Bō.

Tang Bō grew up knowing that his uncle killed his father, but no that his father loved him.

(or in other words, my dirty Tang OCs and their drama due to my current obsesión with a dead man)

[filialdisciple]

doods

[dlhn00]

It's been a while since the last time i posted;;; honestly i recently posted most of my works on fb, and things change much so i don't often post here, sorry;;;

Btw i appreciate all of your love for my dumb sketches 😭

I have 2 OCs at all tbh (i split my OC in two and each of them in a different world) It's kinda ridiculous but it's bc i'm not good at designing new OC and building new lore to them so 😓

[vantabone]

does anybody want to see my tang gunak wife oc? no? okay. you get to see her anyway

additional context for whoever wants to read it under the cut:

- this is them in their younger years so unfortunately i had to shave off tang gunak's silver wolf beard :/ disappointingly

- in my hc lore, because of ~patriarchy~ and mysogyny the women are kept away from the men, thus limiting their interaction. so men are usually never put in close contact with the women (this also includes married women and their husbands)

- she and tang gunak are the only exception as tang gunak is the head and zheng baihe is the daughter of a really influential family. but after she gives birth to the male successor and raises him to an appropriate age, she will be given the same treatment

- zheng baihe is a sheltered young lady. what happens when you put a no experience with women 18 year old man and a sheltered rich young lady in an arranged marriage? i want to see it

- in my ~canon~ she dies after giving birth to their first child, soso. but the world is my oyster so she's alive and a healthy 50 year old woman. she's happy that soso got to pursue her dreams, and happy her sons got..? character development...??

[eruisapenguin]

ROTBB Tang OC!

Made a fandom OC because why not. Tang Zheng is a TangCheong shipper LMAO, he was so distraught during the Tang arc; thinking that CM was a descendant of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint Man's kinda the son/grandson figure for Tang Bo and CM. Ever since he was a toddler, he had been tailing the two Saints and clinging onto their robe, gaining the nickname Junior Leech (lovingly given by CM).

The eyepatch was taken from Tang Bo's sleeve, a makeshift one created in the midst of panic. Zheng did not die because of the eye injury tho; but not long after the eye thing he got stabbed and went honk shoo forever.

Tang Zheng's the great-granduncle of Tang Soso and Zhan. He had an older sister who was pregnant when he left her. I'm making shits up here, but Zheng can be seen if he was illuminated by full moon's moonlight. Soso was the first to see him (and promptly almost killed him for the second time).

[cel-ju]

When I start posting the drafts of the rotbb ocs, you know there's nothing left in the backlog 🔥🔥.

More ROTBB!OC Content Below (no context) ->

I'm drafting a little comic for CM's Sword Saint era, but until then, have some drabbles from a few months back (to show that I'm still alive in this fandom) :')

Everything is still subject to change (on that note, I'd love to talk with others about their rotbb oc, I'll even draw them fanart 🥹💕)

Note: The confession didn't work out, better luck next time Dreamju 😔

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Anachronism, Chapter One: “Wake Up”

Summary: A woman wakes up kidnapped, bound, and without her glasses in an unfamiliar place. She’s also has her memories wiped, and even though some things sound familiar, it physically hurts when she tries to remember anything. This is the worse day of her life. (So far! :D)

Contains: OC protagonist with amnesia, platonic oc x canon relationships for a good while, kidnapping, possible human trafficking, Chung Myung busting heads (shocker)

WC: App. 2,700

No matter how hard she tries, the woman absolutely cannot wake up. So far, she can't tell if she's been asleep for hours, days, or weeks. All she knows is that, after all of this time, it seems like it's nearly impossible to wake up. All she currently feels is her body floating in an endless void, and everytime she attempts to open her eyes she's greeted by the same dark emptiness. She closes and opens her eyes one more time, and is still met with disappointment.

‘Why am I struggling so much with waking up?’ She thinks, and shortly after that she starts to feel like she's free falling. Suddenly, her whole body jerks in response to the falling sensation and her eyes fly open. She gasps, but relaxes when she notices she wasn't actually falling. ‘That was the most intense hypnic jerk I've ever felt!’ She thinks, and is immediately caught off guard by the light assaulting her eyes.

The void quickly fades away, but the sunshine beaming on her causes a great deal of pain. All she can do is rapidly blink her eyes until they adjust. After a while, the searing pain fades away and she can finally take in her new surroundings. She’s excited to look around until she realizes how blurry the world is.

‘This is fine’, she thinks, ‘I just need to put my glasses on…’ When she tries to feel around for them, she notices that her hands are bound behind her back with a rope. There's a cloth tied around her head to stop her from talking, but on the brightside, her legs are free. ‘Why would you leave the legs alone? Whoever tied me up did a shitty job,’ she thinks while trying to avoid panicking and continues analyzing the situation.

She turns her head and notices she's been sleeping on a raggedy wooden cart with some straw under her. She can hear hooves clopping on dirt and sees that the tree line above her is moving. After turning her head to get a slightly better view of the front, she notices a man in the front seat.

She assumes he kidnapped her, and her heart begins to pound when the gravity of the situation seeps in. This man kidnapped her, she doesn't know where she is, she's literally half-blind without her glasses, and they're headed to who-knows-where. She has no idea what he might do to her. Is he going to sell her to human traffickers? Murder her? Cook and eat her?

She doesn't want to stick around and find out, so she'll have to act soon. He looks like he's taller and beefier than her. If she runs and he pursues her, there'd be a high chance that she'd get caught again. But running is better than just sitting there and doing nothing, so she decides to try to escape.

The woman raises her pudgy legs in the air and swings them back down so she can use the force to sit up. After doing that a few times, she finally manages to sit up right. Then, she slowly tucks her knees under her and carefully stands up. The cart's movements are unpredictable and rocky, so she has to concentrate on keeping her legs stable. Now, it's time for the hard part: jumping off of the moving cart.

Jumping off without injuring herself is going to be impossible, but it'll be worth it. It's either that or stay kidnapped, so she just needs to gain the courage to jump off. ‘Do it, pussy. It's now or never. Do it! Do it! Do it!’ She tells herself, but she keeps standing there. Her heart feels like it's going to pop out of her chest as she tries to perceive the depth between the cart and the ground. She can't tell how high the cart is, and the blurry vision makes this situation even more terrifying.

‘Fuck it, parkour!’ She screams internally and finally takes her leap of faith. When her body hits the ground, she rolls a couple of times, and thankfully doesn't break anything. When she stops, she attempts to get back on her knees like earlier. When she manages to stand up, she hears the man yell,” Get back here, little girl!”

‘Little girl!? Who does he think he is! I'm grown and he has the gall to call me that? ‘Little girl’ my ass-‘ she thinks, but snaps out of her thoughts. Right now really isn't the time for that. She needs to start moving before she gets kidnapped a second time.

She starts sprinting as fast as her short legs can, and she thinks her escape plan is going well so far. When she peeks behind herself, she notices the man has started pursuing her. She tries to give herself some form of reassurance by remembering she got an earlier start, but it doesn't help much. She just needs to focus on running as fast as she can.

‘No matter what, I need to keep moving, and when I lose him, I'll-‘ “Hey, watch where you're going!” Her thoughts are interrupted by someone screaming in front of her. The woman was too focused on the man behind her to notice she was rapidly approaching someone else. She tries to avoid him, but ends up tripping instead. As her body is being flung forward, the guy flawlessly dodges her before she can fall onto him. She hits the hard ground face-first and, after all of this, she's decided that this is the worst day of her life.

“Damn, that looks like it hurt! You know you’re supposed to look forward when you run, right? Did you learn your lesson?” The guy she almost crashed into starts asking her, but there's no way in hell she's sticking around to answer him. She rolls over and gets on her knees for the third time today, but before she can get on her feet she hears her captor scream at her again. When she looks back, she notices that the distance between them is rapidly closing. He's too quick, and there's no way she'll be able to escape now. Her eyes widen as the panic sets in, and her wide-eyed gaze turns towards the man she almost ran over.

The dark-haired man traces where her eyes were, and suddenly darts towards her kidnapper. She doesn't care about that right now, and just wants to escape to safety. All she needs to do is get back on her feet, start running, and then-

BAM! BAM! BAM! All she can hear is the distinct sound of fists mercilessly pummeling someone. The woman turns around and squints her eyes to get a better look, and the kidnapper is getting his ass handed to him. Not even five seconds later, the fight was over and the smaller man reigned victorious.

She's stunned while she watches him calmly walk back to her. He doesn't seem that strong, but he still managed to knock out that big guy. Saying she's impressed would be an understatement. “Come here,” the victor says when he approaches her, and she scoots back. Her nerves are still high after the anxiety-inducing events she just experienced. He scoffs and continues,”I'm just trying to help you.”

Her intuition tells her he's not going to do anything, and, considering what just happened, he doesn't seem like the type to hurt random people for no reason. She turns around and lets him untie the ropes. After untying them, he undoes the cloth that the captor had stuck in her mouth. She can finally speak! “T-Thank you,” she mutters out, and her voice is a little hoarse. She's thirsty, her body is sore from laying on hard wood for so long, and her wrists have marks leftover from her bindings. The woman has no idea how long she was unconscious, but based on the evidence, it must've been a really long time.

It's a good thing she almost crashed into this random guy. He saved her life, so she feels like just thanking him isn't enough to show her gratitude. “How can I repay you?” She asks while rubbing and staring at her wrists. “Preferably with money or food,” he replies bluntly. A tiny snort comes from her, and she decides that she likes him and how forward he is. People like him are easy to talk to.

She gets up with ease thanks to being able to finally use her hands, and searches herself for anything she could repay him with. The woman doesn't find anything valuable on her person, but when she looks over at her captor, she gets a genius idea. She makes her way over to the presumably unconscious man. The piece of shit hasn't moved or made a sound, so she assumes it's safe to approach him. The woman picks up a stick and pokes him a few times to make sure he's still out, and thankfully he is.

She searches his pockets and finds a half-full coin purse on him and takes it with zero remorse. What's he gonna do? Steal it back? He's out cold! She wastes no time getting back to the dark-haired man. “Please don't judge me,” she comments.

He shrugs and doesn't seem bothered by her actions. “I don't care. He probably deserved it, anyway,” he replies nonchalantly. “I hope this is enough,” she says while giving him a handful of coins. She can't exactly tell if she's giving him too much or too little. She assumes it was an okay amount, because right after receiving the payment he says,”Thank you!” and turns around. He has a pep in his step when he walks off thanks to the money he just received, but the woman he just saved still needs him.

“W-Wait!” She blurts out, and he stops and looks back at her. “I don't know where I am…” “You're on the outskirts of Shaanxi.” “Shaanxi?” She asks. It sounds familiar to her, but she can't put her finger on where she's heard it before. No matter how hard the woman tries to remember, her mind keeps drawing blanks. She starts getting a small headache while trying to remember, so she rubs her temples in an attempt to ease some of the pain.

The young man in front of her notices this, and after an awkward pause he continues,”You really don't know where you are, do you?” “Nope, no idea,” she states while brushing the dirt off of her. She hopes she'll get to take a shower soon. He points at the cart she was previously in,”It looks like you guys were entering the area before you ran off.”

Her light-colored eyes squint as she tries to look at the cart in the distance, but it just looks like a blurry brown blob to her. She isn't even sure why she tried looking. ‘Maybe it's because I'm so used to having glasses? she guesses. “Were you entering Shaanxi, too?” She asks while attempting to keep eye contact despite her half-blindness. His eyes look like two fluffy dots to her.

“Yeah, I was on my way to Mount Hua before you almost ran into me. Speaking of which, I'm going to start going now,” he says and begins walking off again. “Wait!” She exclaims and follows him. She tries her best to keep up with him, but it's a struggle. He's in a hurry to get to this place, and doesn't plan on slowing down anytime soon.

“What is it now!?” He asks and snaps his head towards her. “Can I follow you for a little bit? At least until we reach a town or something. I need to figure out what I'm doing and where I'm going,” she pleads. “I guess, as long as you don't cause any trouble or slow me down,” he answers, and this lifts the woman's spirits ten fold.

“I won’t, I promise! Thank you so much!” She beams at him, but pauses before they pass the wagon. She runs up to it, notices a sack that was sitting in the passenger seat, and grabs it. The owner tried to kidnap her, so she feels no remorse after looting his pockets and his wagon. Before returning, she looks back at the criminal and considers kicking him in the face, but decides not to. She doesn't want to keep her friend waiting.

She sprints as quickly as she can to catch up to him and announces,”I found more stuff.” “You robbed him again?” “Yeah, I thought about kicking him, too,” after she drops that bit of information he shrugs and keeps walking. The woman starts shuffling through the raggedy bag in hopes that she'll find something useful. It looks like all of that running was worth it, because after digging around she finds some clothes. She digs deeper, and in the bottom there's a few coins and a pair of glasses. ‘Things are really starting to look up!’ she thinks before she pulls them out.

She puts them on and is filled with disappointment when she realizes the lenses are broken. Her vision is mostly corrected, but the cracks get in the way. “Welp, shit, it's better than nothing, I guess,” she mutters and looks beside her so she can finally get a glimpse of her hero.

She assumed he'd be closer to her age after he managed to take down a guy twice his size, but he looks younger than her. His overall appearance is disheveled, his black hair needs to be washed and brushed, and his eyes are her favorite shade of pink.

“You're staring,” he points out, and she panics. Her eyes dart down towards the dirt and her cheeks burn in embarrassment as she apologizes,”Sorry, I couldn't really see you until, like, five seconds ago.” “That explains the lack of eye contact we've had until just now,” he comments, and she forces herself to regain eye contact with him despite her nerves. “What's your name, anyway?” He asks, and such a simple question catches her off guard. ‘My name… Wait what is my name?’ She asks herself before a sharp, stabbing pain echoes throughout her head as she desperately tries to remember.

She rubs her temples and cringes while she tries to remember despite the extreme discomfort. The harder she tries, the more it excruciating it gets. “You good?” His question helps bring her back to reality. She tries to relax her face and keep a calm front despite her current circumstances. “I'm gonna be honest, I don't know what my name is,” she admits while trying to stay calm.

“You don't know your own name!?” He exclaims and she sighs to relieve the stress-induced tightness in her chest. The pain fades when she stops trying to force herself to remember her own name. “Well, it's more like I don't remember my own name, and everytime I try I get a headache,” she tries to explain. “Well, that's a serious issue. Did he knock you on the head or something?” “I guess. That's the only logical explanation for all of the amnesia and my head aching,” she adds.

“I need to call you something…” His sentence trails off and a finger raises to his chin as he brainstorms. ‘Heh, just call me ‘something’... I shouldn't say that out loud. Now isn’t a good time for joking, and that one was kinda lame’, she thinks and has to stop herself from smirking before asking,“What's your name?” “Chung Myung,” he answers, and goes back to thinking about what to name this random woman he stumbled across.

To her, his name feels familiar and somewhat comforting like Mount Hua and Shaanxi, but can't put her finger on why. She decides to ignore it and doesn't push herself to remember, because she doesn't want to suffer anymore. As they're making their way down the dirt path, she looks up at the branches that shade their path. Despite the cracks in her glasses, she tries to admire the scenery. Their bright emerald branches decorate a clear sky, and the weather isn't too warm or too cold. It must be spring.

She looks back at Chung Myung, and sees that he's still in deep thought. “Anything is fine, y'know. I don't mind as long as it's appropriate and not insulting like ‘loser’ or ‘bitch’…” “Yeah, I've got nothing,” he comments and looks down at the noticeably shorter woman. He's not exactly tall, either, but the top of her head only reaches his mouth. “Heh, shorty,” he cackles and she looks offended. “Do not call me that!” “What? You said anything is fine as long as it's not inappropriate or insulting like ‘loser ’ or ‘bitch’,” he retorts. She huffs and before she can snap back, she's interrupted by her stomach growling.

She feels like it was embarrassingly loud and wants to ignore it, but he points out,”Are you hungry? Because you sound like it.” “Yeah, I don't remember the last time I ate…” “Shocker.” “I know,” she sighs and tries to ignore the emptiness and hunger cramps. “If my memory serves me right, there's a small town up ahead. We can get food there,” he mentions and picks up his pace. “Hurry, I’m hungry, too,” he adds and she tries her best to keep up with him.

She probably shouldn’t follow strangers around but her gut says it’s okay to keep following him, so she does. It’s not like she has any other options, anyway. It’s either follow the man who just rescued her or get lost while trying to find her way in this unfamiliar world. She chooses to put her trust in him and keeps walking to their next destination.

Next Chapter

[theplumblossomswordsman]

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A Warrior's Rest

(cm x friend's oc)

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A warrior's purpose ― many would say to slay enemies, to protect the land, to fight for justice, and to be brave against evil. Common folks adore them, eyes filled with adoration, children dreaming to be one someday, to carry a sword that will pave a path for them. For a better future? An increase in reputation? Perhaps for pride. No one really knows, no one fully understands since what they see was merely the surface.

What about the warrior's pain? No one asked, no one cares. What matters is the result, is it not? There is peace and prosperity, why do people have to pay attention to their emotions? Banquets, cheers, perhaps build a statue to commemorate their achievements, it all ends there. Empty smiles, useless promises, and maybe record their names in history books for centuries to remember but that is all. It all ends there.

“Are you tired?” Her voice, so mellow and sweet like a nightingale's lullaby that eased the lament that churned inside him.

“Yes. I am tired, my empress…”

A delicate hand reached out to him, lifting his face to meet her mesmerizing eyes.

“I…have never felt this tired before…” Words trailed off from his lips with a tone so broken and weary. The praises and worship would never suffice. Every time he swung his blade, every time blood coats his sword, his heart sinks, his soul torn. And no one understands. No one cares. No one, except her.

“Then rest.” She said. Oh how pleasant it was to his ears. Those words that wrapped him with warmth he never felt before. Mere words, yes, but he knew deep inside that she weeps for him, her eyes told him so ― her soft beautiful eyes that gazed at him with love and gentleness. The tears he failed to shed, she sheds for him. The words left unsaid, she speaks for him.

A hero's purpose, was it? Glory, power, pride, it matters not in a quiet and serene place such as this. A rippling pond, a silent breeze, without the people's cheers, without the noble's applause, just his beloved's sweet hums and tender caress. A place where he can let go of his sword, a place where he can be vulnerable, a place where fear is nonexistent; only honesty and sincerity, the only space where he isn't a hero but just a simple man overwhelmed with hurt and exhaustion.

He could feel it ― her warm lips over his, her dainty fingers on his rough skin, he couldn't help but melt in her embrace as he returned the fervor kiss exploring each’s hot cavern and indulging in one another's intoxicating sweetness. Large hands held her close, savoring this fleeting moment where he can enjoy peace within his dearest's touch. A warrior's rest. Dismissing worries, letting go of burdens, the weight of responsibilities loosening their grip from his chest replaced with comfort and tepidness. In these rare times, it was the hero's turn to feel secure and safe confined in her passionate whispers and enthralling gaze.

[enihk-writes]

baby thunderbolts MC that came to me in a dream... her fuckass flashlight eyes...😔😔 she's gone off and got the gojo blue-eyed stare disease..... 😔😔😔😔

[damiiimidassss]

Chung Myung x Yin Yue(oc)

Chapter 1: First life the curse, and the fall.

Summary: In where this chapter tackles the first life of Yin Yue and the past that continues to choke her life.

Tw: Mentions of blood, cheating, death

This chapter will include art that shows what the characters look like.

Chap2

Far from the bustling town. Here, in the moonlit shadows of ancient trees, a fox spirit watched from the edge of the woods, her eyes glowing with a mixture of sorrow and anger.

Her name was Ling, and she had once been a guardian of these forests, but for him, for the merchant Yuan, she had revealed her true form, risking everything. They had spent years together, in secret moments beneath the stars. Yuan had professed his love for her, a love she had believed—until the day he returned from the city with another.

Yuan stood beside a woman dressed in silk, her hands adorned with jade bangles, her hair pinned high with gold. Meilin the daughter of a wealthy nobleman.

Ling watched from the trees, her heart shattering. Yuan had not sought her in days, and now she understood why. He had chosen wealth, status, over the love they once shared.

One evening, after the marriage, Ling appeared before Yuan. Her ethereal beauty was tinged with a darkness she had never shown him before. Her fox-like eyes glistened, but it was no longer with affection.

"You've forgotten me," she whispered, her voice low and trembling with fury. "You’ve chosen wealth over love."

Yuan looked at her, shame twisting his features, but he didn’t speak. He dared not.

Ling’s gaze turned towards the grand home he now shared with Meilin. She knew Meilin carried his child, a son who would inherit Yuan’s wealth, his lineage, everything that should have been built on love.

"I gave you my heart," Ling whispered, stepping closer. Her form seemed to shift in the moonlight, her fox ears becoming visible, her true form unveiled. "But you gave me nothing in return. For that, I will give your child a gift—a curse."

Yuan paled. “What are you saying?”

Ling’s lips curved into a sad smile, but her eyes were sharp. “Your child will never know love as we did. Each time they fall in love, it will end in tragedy. They will lose the one they love, over and over. Worse still, their lover will remember each life, but your child will not. They will be cursed to meet again and again, only for love to end in heartbreak and death before they can marry or bear children. They will never escape it."

Her words felt like a storm crashing through the forest, the wind picking up, howling around them.

"Please, no," Yuan pleaded. "Our child is innocent."

"Innocent?" Ling's voice rose, filled with pain. "Innocent as you were when you left me? No, Yuan. Your son will suffer as I have suffered."

She turned, her fox tail flicking behind her, and as she disappeared into the shadows of the forest, the curse sank into the earth, binding the child to a fate they would never understand.

Yuan stood watching her retrieving form in despair.

---

Years passed, and Yuan's son, Chung Myung, grew into a handsome young man. His raven hair thay glows under the sun, matching his baby looks. His tall physique that every woman loves

Chung Myung, he was a wealthy merchant, the business passed down by his father renowned for his prosperity and influence. His name stretched across provinces, bringing luxury and goods to every corner of the land. But despite his wealth, his heart had never known true love—until he met Yin Yue, a beautiful and enigmatic gambler.

Yin Yue was unlike anyone Chung Myung had ever encountered. She was sharp-tongued, quick-witted, and lived with a recklessness that fascinated him. At the gambling tables, she was a legend, her luck as fickle as the wind, but she always wore a smile, and she doesn't lose ,Chung Myung , used to the rigid etiquette of the merchant class, found her freedom intoxicating.

He fell for her deeply, and soon, their affair became known throughout the city. Though others whispered about how improper it was for a wealthy man to associate with a gambler, Chung Myung didn’t care. He showered Yin Yue with gifts—silks, gold jewelry, rare perfumes from distant lands. He wanted to give her everything.

Yin Yue accepted his gifts with a smile, but there was a shadow behind her eyes . She knew something Chung Myung did not—"the curse" that followed him, even if he was oblivious to it. Yin Yue had always been sensitive to things others could not see. She had once heard whispers of fate from an old fortune teller, a woman who had warned her to stay away from Chung Myung.

“He is cursed,” the fortune teller had said. “Love him, and it will end in tragedy. Every lifetime, his love is doomed to die. But only someone with great strength can break it.”

Yin Yue, stubborn as she was, didn’t believe in curses. She believed in luck. So she stayed with Chung Myung, trying her best to avoid what the old woman had foretold.

But as their love deepened, she couldn’t ignore the signs. Everywhere they turned, misfortune seemed to follow them. Chung Myung's business began to falter, losing deals that had always been guaranteed. Merchants who had once sought his favor suddenly turned cold, and his family—those closest to him—began to act strange, as though dark plots swirled beneath their polite smiles.

One evening, as they lay together in the private chambers of his estate, Chung Myung rested his head on Yin Yue lap, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful. The moonlight spilled through the window, casting soft shadows around them.

“Yin Yue,” he whispered, “I’ve never felt like this before. With you, everything feels right. Like I could forget the world.”

Yin Yue's fingers traced the curve of his face, but there was a heaviness in her heart. She had spent nights in secret, consulting every mystic and seer she could find, searching for a way to break the curse. But the answers were always the same—tragedy was inevitable. And no matter how she tried to protect him, there was always something dark on the horizon.

“I’ll protect you,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Chung Myung opened his eyes, gazing up at her. “Protect me? I’m the one who should be protecting you.”

Yin Yue forced a smile, but deep inside, her resolve was breaking. The fortune teller’s warning echoed in her ears—he is cursed. His love is doomed.

But she couldn’t walk away from him. She had fallen too deep.

---

The night the curse finally caught up to them came without warning.

It began as a subtle pain in Chung Myung stomach, a discomfort he had dismissed after a long day. But by the time night fell, it had worsened. His skin grew pale, his breath short, and soon, he was bedridden, writhing in agony.

Yin Yue stayed by his side, refusing to leave him. She had seen enough in her life to know what was happening. Poison. Someone had poisoned Chung Myung, and she knew exactly who.

His own family.

Greedy for his wealth, jealous of his success, they had waited for the right moment to strike. She had seen it in their eyes, the jealousy simmering beneath their polite words. She had tried to protect him, but she had failed.

As the poison ravaged his body, Chung Myung struggled to stay conscious, his breaths shallow, his hand clutching Yin Yue.

“Yin Yue,” he gasped, his voice weak, “who did this…?”

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth, not in his final moments. But the tears in her eyes told him everything.

“They’ll pay,” he whispered, his grip tightening. “I swear… I’ll come back. I won’t rest until I make them pay.”

Yin Yue leaned over him, her forehead pressed against his. “No, Chung Myung. Don’t think about revenge. Think about us. Just stay with me.”

But Chung Myung's eyes were filled with a burning resolve, even as the life drained from him. “I’ll come back. I’ll break this… curse. And I’ll make sure that no one… will ever… hurt you again.”

His voice faltered, his eyes closing for the last time as the poison claimed him.

"NO! MY LOVE!"

Yin Yue screamed his name, her tears falling onto his lifeless face, but it was too late. The curse had won.

But even as he died, Yin Yue felt something stir in the air, a dark energy that whispered of revenge, of broken promises and twisted fates. Chung Myung's last vow echoed in her ears.

Yin Yue slowly stands up and grab a sharp object that can cut through her skin,

'My love I'll see you in another life'

She shakly she slits her throat she falls unto the ground as darkness succumbs her vision she can feel her warm blood coating her cold dead skin.

But in the darkness, she saw a beautiful fox spirit

Yin Yue looks around realizing shes in the afterlife, but is she?

The beautiful woman approached her and suddenly the fox spirit face was close to her

YIn Yue didn't move or budge, she felt numb

"Poor you, you got caught up in this mess. No woman deserves a fate like yours, but Chung Myung deserves that curse, after what his own father did to me"

Ling smiled seductively backing out one step to give her space

Yin Yue only stared at her, but deep inside her mind, she wanted to kill Ling, but she knew she'd lose. She's weak, and not even luck can save her.

"If you want to break the curse, you'll have to kill me. But little mouse" She gets near her ears, whispering her next word

"You're still weak"

Before Yin Yue can touch her Ling had already back up

"You demon! I swear I'm gonna kill you, I'll take off your every limbs. I'll let you eat your own heart! I'll make you beg for forgivenes!"

Ling only laughed, as Yin Yue struggled to run to her

"Well see"

Ling disappeared completely in the air

Yin Yue vision suddenly turned white, maybe in her next life. She will kill that demon fox.