mmchoa

[mmchoa]

sunwoo

( . . . )

he’s onto the kimchi jjigae now, taking sips of the spicy broth and using it to flavor his rice. he could get used to eating like this all the time. technically, his wallet was thick enough to support this ill planned diet. “i hope this is enough food,” he murmurs, suddenly aware of how small korean portions are. again, it’s not a big deal. he’s got the time, appetite, ( and money. ) he shrugs, “we can always order more if you’re still hungry.”

“a little pain isn’t going to stop me from enjoying grilled pork belly,” choa hums as she pops in another piece into her awaiting mouth, hissing through clenched teeth when it burns the roof of her mouth and tongue ( those were definitely going to blister ) “we die like men, sunwoo. foolishly—” she laughs at her own joke, patting herself on the back for her being clever as she snipes another piece of pork belly, soothing the burn by chasing it down with kimchi “—god i really missed this. as much as i love traveling, nothing compares to home, yanno ? it really makes you realize and helps you appreciate what you have already—” her voice is tinged with nostalgia as she continues eating, eating rice and kimchi between bites until they both have polished off the grilled pork belly from their grill “—i’ll keep that in mind the next time. no promises that it’ll be japan, but i’ll be on the lookout. or maybe i’ll just visit in my own free time, since i have a lot of that, now.”

choa snags a menu from under the plates she had stacked on the side, perusing the pages for what they could try next. she’s interrupted from deliberating between cow tongue and beef tendon when sunwoo speaks up, “i’ll be in the country for a little while. i’m not accepting any clients at the moment, but i have a small queue of things to do: like the paper pushing i mentioned earlier—” she closes the menu, sliding it back from where she had taken it before leaning over the table “—enough about work, sunwoo. tell me about school, talk about your family, anything new that's been going on. i'm more curious about what you've been up to ! while you're at it, let's order some cow tongue and beef tendon. oh, and maybe some bulgogi ?  i haven't eaten all day just so that i could pig out here with you.”

ONE OF THESE NIGHTS

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ SUNWOO 01 :・ﾟ #ur so cute yumi #u and sunwoo #my fave babies #this is super short and im sry abt that u.u

[mmchoa]

PURGATORY ; 06:13 PM / YOSUL COMMENCEMENT PARTY

the soiree was in full swing by the time she arrives, a cloud of lavender following her, dressed in velvet, and an ever present smile on her face as she greets old and new faces. she’s snubbed by a select few, to which she understands their hesitance in acknowledging her. hwang hyunsik’s wrath knew no bounds, and if he still had an unspoken taboo placed upon after all these years, it’s safer for everyone involved that they ignore her. despite being disowned, she was under constant speculation, still held to the standard of being a pure-blood daughter despite having no family claiming her. wizarding society had been divided in the aftermath, many having empathized with her, but most condemned her for going against status quo, judged her for turning her back on their history and tradition. while most folk ignored her, there were always a select few that made their ire known. she rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time that night as she’s shouldered and bodied by nameless and faceless socialites ( the next bitch to bump into her, purposefully or not, was gonna get their teeth knocked into the back of their throat ) fortunately, people gave her a wide berth, sensing her irritation, which rolls off her in palpable waves. only a few brave souls ignore the frosty aura she exudes and engage her in conversation, to which she supplies with equally chilling words until they retreat, tail tucked between their legs. her mood only worsens when she sees a familiar face drifting in the crowd of strangers. the frown marring her face deepens when she sees he’s not alone. she’s awash with jealousy, practically drowning in it the longer she stares. the last she’s seen of him had been in the beginning of the year, when she had returned. they hadn’t promised each other anything when they separated, but she held out on a dim hope that they could rekindle what they once had. but it had all been for naught—he had someone new, and she was left with only memories ( she could drink to that )

and it’s to choa’s utter disappointment that the commencement gala was sorely lacking in the alcohol department. it shouldn’t come to her as a surprise—considering the vast majority of those in attendance were students—but it does. resigned to sobriety, she moves away from the punch bowl, eying the golden cart occupied by a multi-tiered dessert stand which displayed an assortment of delicacies created by yosul’s very own baking committee. plucking a cupcake garnished with candied flowers, she walks away from the cart when a crowd begins to form around it, slipping back into the dark corner from whence she came. delicately biting into the pastry, she knows something is off before she even ingests. despite how sweet looking it was, the cupcake itself tasted dry, like ash. overcome by a wave of nausea, choa leans heavily against the wall beside her, using it as leverage to keep her upright. and that’s when hwang choa makes the mistake of lifting her gaze from the floor to gauge the reactions of her peers. zeroing on the first person her eyes settles upon, she’s immediately bewitched, her heartbeat aflutter. choa knows all too well what this affliction is, can easily recognize the symptoms, and comes to the conclusion that she’s been compromised by a love potion. try as she might to fight it, the forced infatuation only grows stronger the longer she’s transfixed. every cell in her body urges her to get closer and gather the apple of her eye into her embrace. it takes all her willpower to deny that instinct, to the point it’s physically painful—but choa perseveres ( because there was no way in hell that choa could do this, not again. she’s suffered through too much heartbreak to play at love for a third time. it was only asking for trouble, as well as pain ) 

so she absconds, each footstep that brought her further from the person her heart cried out to felt soul crushing. but she endures, because suffering was, by far, easier than falling in love all over again—only to be disappointed when the rose-tinted glasses were removed. 

choa truly would rather die.

#mm:event1 #choa just came out to have a good time but overthinking has got her feelin so attacked rn

[mmchoa]

who the fuck is this guy

“most men, i do agree.” his gaze sits on the hem of her skirt, more specifically on the way she fidgets along the line of it. impatient, perhaps bothered, most likely both. she’s not hard to read, her body language speaking for most of her mind rather than her words. “—not so much under that specific stereotype, but under our premise at the moment. no-brainer of a guess, really.” he references the distance between them, the close proximity of their lips. he’d achieve less than a laugh out of her if he were to say, ‘no, i’m only in it for the profound exchange of words. do you perhaps enjoy the philosophy of socrates?’ instead of going straight for the emotionless exchange of body warmth.

what a great joke, with no irony added (he’ll save that line for next time.)

“yes, but also– but i do like the chase.” just the nature of us all. it’s a jab at her desperate pursuit, lukewarm smile drawn along the end of their rather one-sided kiss. nevermind the strokes, he’s more interested in the way she races– spilling her dignity and composure all over as she does. someone who lacks a false front, true to her desires and extremely vulnerable: the singularities he loves the most out of all and any other human traits.

“i can tell.” it’s self-moving, the way he drags down her skirt to grant her obvious wish. he’ll pry at her scab after he’s aided her in fixing up a makeshift fill-in for the void. only to have it fall apart again, but people run on a treadmill of mistakes. the same one, over and over. haram never gets sick of its continuum. will never.

“alright. i won’t make you say it again.”

he’ll ask for the payoff in words. later.

"you talk too much, do you know that ?” choa can’t help but let out a watery laugh tinged with hysteria. why couldn’t he have been like other men who were more than happy to forego pleasantries and foreplay ? choa normally isn’t prone to begging, but with the languid pace this man was going, she was just about to cave—and cave she does. pride gives way to desperation as she reaches out for him, fingers carding through his soft hair, gently gripping the back of his head to tilt it, baring his neck which her lips immediately slant over. she leaves imprints of her teeth upon his skin: angry red marks which she soothes with the tip of her tongue. she hisses through clenched teeth when she feels his cold fingers pull at her skirt—and she’s all too eager to help him, raising her hips as he rolls it past her thighs and knees, until it falls to the floor, a formless heap. suddenly shy, she curls in on herself, only to be deterred by the object of her desire ( there’s no point in feeling shame, especially when she takes into account the lengths she’s already gone to get where she is now ) “please, please, please...”

she sobs when he finally touches her where she wants him to, teeth sinking into the skin of his shoulder to muffle her cries as he brings her towards that familiar peak. this is what she wanted, what she needed, what she craved. her mind finally ceases all function, and the demons that haunt her finally quiet—which was the whole purpose of bringing him here. into her home, into a part of her life that not many have ventured. she only hopes she won’t regret it—a thought she thinks far too soon as she lays on her side, watching him breathe. this was the part she had been dreading all night. in a perfect world, she would have waited for him to fall asleep before slipping out, but she had nowhere to run since they were on her home turf. sitting up, she lets her hair fall in a curtain around her, obscuring her face, “you...you can leave whenever you want. or you can stay, i don’t care.” ( anymore was left unsaid, but it loomed like a dark cloud over them )

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ HARAM 01 :・ﾟ #haram out here making a mf fool out of choa #if she doesn't k*ll him in this thread #she will in the future #BET ON IT BIH #she'd be doing the world a favor 😈 #gonna ftb here because i'm a coward #haram doesn't deserve her bed #so its the floor and couch only #rip them both tbh #tw nsfw

[mmchoa]

she remembers seeing him when he had been just a tad bit smaller than she, when his face was a bit softer and rounder compared the lean and sharp features he has now. vaguely recalls being on the receiving end of a harmless prank that had pricked at her pride then, but was easily disregarded because they had merely been children. that had been the last time she had seen kang jisoo, until now. choa sees him from her periphery on the other side of the dance floor, intrigued at this hand fate had dealt her, she closes the distance between them. she’s pleasantly surprised that he had thought the same, even more so when he knocks back a flute of the imported elven champagne that was all the rage amongst the wizened folk ( these soirees were always easier to stomach if you had a little ( or rather a lot ) alcohol in one’s system ) she hums, snagging a glass for herself and sipping daintily. it was too sweet for her taste, but she sees its charm. “they’re fun if you dabble in the rumor mill—” she shares a secretive glance with jisoo from over the rim of her champagne flute, smiling around the lip of the glass “—every politician here is probably cheating on their wives with their friends’ wives. if you pay attention you can read all the signs, it’s truly the highest form of entertainment right now—” the smile on her face was dark, lacking the sweetness her tone held “—the people here are all too eager for you to divulge your secrets, hoping to find discrepancies in your storytelling so they can pick it apart and turn your word against you.”

choa knocks back the rest of her drink, placing the empty glass upon a passing waiter’s tray before taking another for herself. “these people are vultures, all too happy to rip their own kind apart should you show any sign of weakness—” a grimace passes over her face before she fits her neutral mask back in place “—don’t give them any ammunition, jisoo. they won’t think twice making use of it.”

the bitterness she feels is apparent, and she can only hope her dongsaeng takes her word for it. disliking the topic they’re conversing about, choa quickly changes the subject to far more interesting things, “so...i’ve heard from my mentor that you ran into a little trouble here in egypt. he mentioned to me that it would be pro bono since it’ll be my first case. would you care to tell me how you came to be cursed, jisoo ? i’m more than happy to help you if you tell me how it all went down, first.”

a little night music.

closed starter for @mmchoa

at this point, jisoo honestly can’t remember how and when he met hwang choa. their families have always run in the same circles which meant seeing each other at events and parties and everything in between. they were never wildly close or anything, just knew of each other and probably played together when they were both too young to really remember much. choa is 3 years older than him so it wasn’t long until they didn’t really interact at all. jisoo has a vague memory of pranking choa with some of the other little witches and wizards around his age at some grand ball that most of the pureblood families had been invited to. he was wearing dress robes that fit him just right but seemed to be suffocating and the other little kids found a way to get choa to spill her drink onto the pristine white table cloth in front of her. they were still too young to know much about magic, but they knew enough to make the perfect hwang choa look silly even if for just a moment.

but then it became jisoo’s turn to look like an idiot. he doesn’t even remember exactly what he said to cause the old man in egypt to curse him, but it must have been bad. with no where to turn, he called his mother who set up a way for their family friend’s daughter to help him get rid of the curse. and from there, the two had become friends. not insanely close, but friendly enough to seek each other out to talk to one another.

the swanky dinner party they’re currently at is no exception. the room is stuffy, full of old wizards and witches chatting idly with one another, grabbing too small finger foods off the trays that float by. jisoo spots her from the table he’s at with his parents as they talk over his head about how excited he is to be back in school after having some grand adventures and how happy they are for him to focus on his studies. while he knows better than to rest his elbow on the table to hold up his head, he wants to do it anyway. see if his parents will cause a scene because their perfect son can’t remember his manners. once he sees choa, he stands up quickly after excusing himself with a charming smile to the other guest.

“jesus,” he says as he reaches her, swiping 2 flutes of whatever they’re serving that night off of a tray and downing one before setting it back on said tray quickly. “do these things ever get less boring? if i have to tell one more ‘cherished family friend’ about how ‘educationally enlightening’ my travels were, i’m going to lose my mind.” jisoo grabs a snack off of another tray before lowering his voice so only his friend can hear. “do you think every one here would explode if i told them what i was really up to over that time?”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ JISOO 01 :・ﾟ #tysm for the starter blake omg #and also tysm for waiting for my slow as s #if you need me to change anything just ask and i'll be right on it !

[mmchoa]

heeyeon

heeyeon is first and foremost a healer. that knowledge is the only thing keeping her from bolting out of the room and begging someone else to do the diagnostics– when she’s in her healer’s robes, her responsibility is not to herself but to the patient.

doesn’t make her want to throw herself out of the window any less, though.

mistake number one: she hesitates, and with it, the weight of years of unspoken words rush to escape. long time no see? try understatement of the century. heeyeon knows she’s emotional– she probably singlehandedly upholds that gender stereotype, but she’s sure that anyone else in her position would feel this way. what the hell do you say to someone you last saw when they were jilted at the altar?

she settles for a clearing of her throat. “yes, well. what brings you here today, miss hwang?” it’s a herculean task to keep her voice steady, eyes flicking up from the medical chart in a brief show of ‘oh look i’m totally cool with this and not trying to avoid eye contact with you because i’m totally cool and not freaking out.’

god, she needs a cigarette. or 4.

she can’t look at heeyeon for too long without feeling a resurgence of guilt and shame. it’s been far too long since she’s seen her—they had been thicker than thieves, once upon a time. but the last time she had seen heeyeon had been on her wedding day, the day where she had been ridiculed by wizarding society and disowned by her father. she had truly been between a rock and a hard place then, and seeing heeyeon after so many years like this was a reminder of that time she never wanted to revisit—so she averts her gaze, choosing instead to stare at the wall behind heeyeon’s head. choa didn’t need nor want her—or anyone else’s, for that matter—pity. “just here for a physical—” her tone is neutral, face relaxed, eyes unseeing. she’s compartmentalizing “—their concern is cute. my client insisted that i be cleared before i undertake the case they’ve assigned to me since, apparently, they’re a medical expert on the happenings on a woman’s body.”

with a roll of her eyes, she slumps in her seat, foot tapping a staccato like rhythm against the off white tiled floors. the atmosphere around them had taken a turn from awkward to tense in the matter of minutes, and she knows that she’s partly to blame for that. she hadn’t exactly reached out to her friends when she set foot back into seoul. she’s gonna need a drink after this, something strong. “it should be quick, though. i’ll be out of your hair soon enough—” she grimaces at her lack of tact, but it was too late to take back what she said now. hopefully this conversation won’t make their relationship irreparable “—you must be busy, being a healer and all. i don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

&&. NEVER SIMPLE, NEVER EASY.

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ HEEYEON 01 :・ﾟ #god i took forever to reply to this #tysm for ur patience bby u.u

[mmchoa]

jiyi

she should feel sheepish about choa’s gentle way of letting her know the other girl knows exactly what she did, but she doesn’t, not really. not when choa seems fine with it, which is really what matters. both of them enjoy the cakes in a comfortable quiet, polishing off both plates before choa gives her a reply on her suggestion.

her questions don’t surprise her – she’s a fifth year, she should have her wand obedient and under her control. it is, in some ways; she knows it’d never do any magic for anyone but her alone, and it’s learnt when the spells she casts aren’t meant to be ‘interpreted’, as is. but she’d like a little better control over it nonetheless, for the sake of her spell-casting and the rumours that have started to plague her ( she still can’t control her wand? that must be embarrassing for the wons. ).

so jiyi presses down on the worry that choa will start to judge her down, because she does want the older girl’s help. “hmm…” she thinks about the best ( and least embarrassing ) way to put it, coming up with, “it’s not failing me, or acting by itself, anything like that! it’s just… something the spells i cast, it won’t do the exact spell that was cast. instead of lumos it conjures up a floating ball of light, stuff like that.” she frowns, feeling the need to defend her wand despite the trouble its been giving her. “but it only acts up when i’m not exactly precise. or,” she tilts her head to the side, thinking about it, “it’s most obedient when i’m really precise? i don’t know,” jiyi shakes her head, holding an hand out in choa’s direction. “that’s why i thought i’d ask someone with more experience!”

her single question turned into a barrage of invasive inquiries, and if they made jiyi uncomfortable, that hadn’t been her intention. jiyi was not the first, nor will she be the last, witch or wizard that has struggled with such a phenomenon in regards to their ward. it was more commonplace than many have been taught to believe, but there was still a stigma revolving around the occurrence. so she reiterates her thoughts, hoping to ease the mind of her dongsaeng, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, jiyi. magic is a living thing, and oftentimes, it has a mind of its own—” she smiles whilst saying this, recollecting the special moments in which magic had left her awestruck “—magic will always endeavor to do good—” she shifts in her seat, getting comfortable as she props her elbows onto the table, leaning towards the younger girl as if she were to impart a secret “—to my knowledge, wands act as if they have personalities of their own, which i think isn’t too far off with what you have going on here. your wand is a part of you, an extension of your body. it’s the conduit that allows us to manipulate the magic within us to do our bidding. we have a symbiotic relationship with them, and as we mature as witches and wizards, our wands work in tandem with that exponential growth.”

choa gives jiyi a moment to absorb her words before cutting right into the heart of her hypothesis, all too eager to unveil her theory and see them being put into practice. “a theory i have that might help you tame your wand is: visualize what you want your magic to do. we’re so used to casting spells with just incantations that we forget that magic work in mysterious ways but still garners similar results. the power behind an incantation is as strong as the mind of the caster, so i think visualizing what you want to happen might make your wand more obedient to your will.”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ JIYI 01 :・ﾟ #wrow look at choa being all smarty pantsy

[mmchoa]

taejoon 

He misses it the first time, eyes elsewhere because that’s what being knee-deep in grading papers for DADA 203 on a Saturday night gets you. With enough drink in his system and the living room light set to a comfortable dim, it’s admittedly not that bad, but that can be used to describe just about anything that requires a glass of wine for starters.

It’s only when Taejoon gets up from the couch moments later does the phone finally grab his attention. The name that lights up the screen doesn’t allow for much pause—after all, Hwang Choa is nothing more but a friendly face in passing, as most acquaintances who find their way back in Yosul’s halls tend to be.

The greeting he’s got prepared keeps that in mind, along the lines of hey, how are you, the whole nine yards because knowing someone only vaguely leaves for all sorts of possibilities that he’s about to be subject to. Most times it’s a favor, and most times when it’s asked politely, it’s agreed upon in the same fashion.

But the second he picks up the call, it’s nothing, nothing of the sort. Gone are the chances for niceties, or even a second to breathe because Choa is slurring a mile a minute, volatile and weepy and talking way too fucking loud for this to be a casual conversation.

Regret? Leaving? Ruined her life? That’s a train of thought he hadn’t seen coming. So much so that for a good second he’s rendered speechless from the shock.

“Um…what?” Is all Taejoon can come up with when he finds his voice. “I mean,” he chuckles nervously. As far as leaving anything (or anyone) goes, the only thing that comes to mind is the dueling club after a couple semesters. “I know you lost pretty bad in a duel that one time but gee, you really hold a grudge…”

dumbfounded by the voice on the other end of the line, choa backtracks, confused at the response she receives from her verbal lashing. staring down at her phone, she blinks owlishly, trying to focus on the blurry letters that make up the name she had called in a drunken stupor. vision finally focusing through her alcohol addled haze, she realizes that the man she had spent the past ten minutes yelling at and crying over hadn’t even been the person she thought they were. a myriad of different emotions wash over her, predominantly embarrassment, as her thumb hovers over the end call icon. but she had to explain herself, she couldn’t let him go thinking he had did her any wrong when it was quite the opposite. noh taejoon had been a peer she respected during her time as a student at yosul. he had been a fellow member of their alma mater’s dueling club, and have held each other at wand point once upon a time. he had been a worthy adversary, always keeping choa on her toes. a challenge has always been appreciated, and taejoon had always done above and beyond that—he had even bested her on many occasions. they were acquainted, and that’s what made it so much harder for choa to hang up and pretend that this had been all a mistake. sucking in a breath, she closes her eyes, utilizing a breathing exercise the self-help books she read suggested she do when she needed to slow things down. better later than never, she presses her phone to her ear, croaking out a proper greeting, “t-taejoon ! i’m so sorry about that, noona’s—” ( why was she talking in fucking third person ? taejoon isn’t a child ) “—i’m...i’m drunk—” the anticlimactic explanation for the cause of all of this elicits a hysterical laugh from choa, who knocks her head back, ramming it into the wall behind her. cursing, she soothes the bump which steadily grew under her fingertips, tears pricking at her eyes as she tries to collect herself to properly explain what the fuck was going on “—sorry, taejoon. i’m, well, for a lack of a better word, i’m a mess.”

it’s as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. how liberating it was to admit that she wasn’t okay; and probably hasn’t been for a while. rubbing a hand over her tear streaked face, she sighs shakily, her breathing ragged from crying. she contemplates then, whether it was wise to seek comfort in someone she knew little of than in the friends she’s had for years. ( he was already on the line, the worst he could say is no ) gathering courage, choa begins to speak in hypotheticals, “what would you do if you saw someone you haven’t seen in years ? especially if you guys . . . didn’t end on the best of terms ? what would you do, taejoon ?”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ TAEJOON 01 :・ﾟ

[mmchoa]

turning back the hands of time, to a past i don’t want to revisit : @mmdaeil​

days on end are spent worrying over her impending nuptials, her future beyond yosul, and most recently, the dark cloud looming over her friends. she never realized something had gone awry until she took a breath and stepped back from everything. there was a noticeable distance between them, one that hadn’t been there before, and it was disconcerting seeing them in the same space, repelling one another. she didn’t ask what had happened, but her mind was burning with curiosity. but that could wait, there were more important things that needed to be done. she did her best consoling jungmi, doing the absolute most to give her the emotional support she sorely needed by being by her side, a silent pillar of strength. but her mind was reeling with questions gone unsaid and unanswered: what had happened ? weren’t things going well ? why ? she had let it fester like an unattended wound, and no longer could she stand by and watch her friend deteriorate before her. she had to do something, anything, to fix what must have been broken. with her mind made up to bridge the gap between them, choa finds herself staring down a familiar doorway, eyes tracing over invisible patterns she sees in the wood grain. she contemplates whether or not this was the right thing to do, if it was her place to mitigate the suffering of her friends, to counsel a relationship she had no part of—she was just an outsider looking in, a spectator. but in her mind’s eye, visions of an inconsolable jungmi push her forward, hand poised over the door, knuckles hitting the wood twice.

“daeil ?” she calls out to him, concern bleeding into her voice. brows furrowed, she knocks again, waiting with bated breath for an answer. “daeil, it’s choa. can we talk ? i’m really worried about you and jungmi.”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ DAEIL 01 :・ﾟ #this is so short im??? #i hope this works #if you need me to change anything just holla

[mmchoa]

& now i'm tearing through the pages and the ink @mmchaerin​

choa stares down at the choices she had picked in each hand: her favorite and trusty side kick, a fillbert she’s had since her early years at yosul, and her recent purchase, a niji waterbrush she has yet to use. she was feeling adventurous today and tucks the waterbrush into the flap of her backpack, where her essentials mixed with her other knick knacks. shouldering her bag, she walks around her apartment, double and triple checking that she had turned off her appliances before closing and locking up. exiting her complex, the curse-breaker follows the familiar path she’s walked countless times towards the han river park. forever was she grateful that her complex was a few mere blocks away from her destination: walking distance if she was feeling proactive, and a three stop bus ride if she was lazy. but today she wanted to enjoy the rare warm weather, so she undertakes the short trek there, and in no time at all, choa enters the park. she revels in the simplicity of the view before her: marvels at the glittering waters yonder, basks in the warm embrace of the sun while the last of winter’s wind cools her heated skin. a beautiful day indeed. eager to find an ideal spot, choa adjusts her grip on her backpack and breaks into a jog, eyes surveying the park for a place she could settle and observe. dropping down onto a thatch of grass overshadowed by a tree, choa reclines against the trunk, crossing her legs whilst tossing her back unto her lap, laying claim to the space. slipping her phone out of her pocket, she shoots a quick text to her companion for the day:

11:44AM 💬 ➠   《 chaerin 📷🎨 》 : i’m here!  11:45AM 💬 ➠   《 chaerin 📷🎨 》 : sitting under a tree so i don’t tan 11:47AM 💬 ➠   《 chaerin 📷🎨 》 : if you get lost, just tell me and i’ll come find you!

satisfied, she places her phone face up beside her whilst unpacking her bag, retrieving her weatherworn, leather bound sketchbook and a ballpoint pen. she quickly flips through the pages before finding a blank one, untouched by graphite and paint. uncapping her pen, she poises her hand over the page, doing a quick blind contour while she waits.

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ CHAERIN 01 :・ﾟ #aesthetic art gorls lesgeddit #if you need me to change anything just holla @ me !

[mmchoa]

jaeho

he certainly reads them. at least, a few.

shoves his phone back into his coat pocket like laying a fucking brick. no plan to take it back out ( he does, at least once more, against best judgement ) his expression so unkindly and inhospitable, a wintry of inviolability that was never there before. everyone in the halls of ymmc accustomed to sliding out of his way like they were all cogs and he was such a vital piece that they all naturally just moved around him. he kept everything running smoothly, all of the pieces working there stayed in tact, in place, as long as he could remain unblocked on his path. lee jaeho stalking the halls, a methodical pattern to his movement when he assuming the role of healer, or of the Lee in the building ( in the lack of his father’s presence )it wasn’t out of the ordinary. it was commonplace to see him briskly chasing a cool line, what wasn’t so usual, was the was his usually assessing ( but ultimately harmless searching, doing his job, keeping things in line ) had turned sharp, a gleam to his gaze, like the sharp side of a blade catching the light. the way every look implied he was searching for a loose thread to cut loose. and it isn’t any of the staff that were at fault. ( his phone buzzes ! again ) the muscle of his jaw jumps in place and a healer that he turns to a little too fast freezes in place ( stop messaging ) “transfer the moon patient to C1, send in hanbin. he’s doing much better ; he can handle this.” he implies she should move out of hanbin’s way and give him the lead with his tone and she picks it up, he sees in her gaze. the way she bobbles a nod an of course. and he takes off, sheathes the blade and everyone keeps their job today( buzz ! ) his expression is stone.

her name is minhee ( his father had called him to deliver the happy news at dusk, nearly 6pm) jaeho thinks of the name. it sounds nothing like choa. that’s okay, for the best, really. he goes to sleep without looking at the remainder of the messages. even in his sleep he frowns.

this time, he leaves his phone in his office. he’s tired of the buzzing ( the way it makes things feel urgent, gives the stakes of not answering a hum of recognition that leaves his fingers tingling ) and by the time he returns to said office, he’s missed more. haunting near his desk, wondering if he even wants to look. eventually, he can’t avoid it any longer. he should stop behaving this way, it isn’t in his nature to run from things, so it’s with a cool swipe that he listens to the voicemail.

and it’s with a much, much cooler frost to his expression that he slips on his jacket and apparates nearby to her. everything in him is tensed with something supremely controlled to a point of snapping as he finds his way there, peels open the door and his expression he meant to be neutral garners him at least a few double takes.

he spots her instantaneously. her favorite all the way to the exact section she preferred. his eyes jump over her features, it feels nostalgic, and sad. watching the last episode of a drama, saying goodbye to a loved one before they move. he doesn’t ask to sit down just does. doesn’t say a word until he’s propped primly in his chair, leg crossed over the other, the dent between his brows leading a gruff, “hey,” there’s no pretext to the somewhat grim way he doesn’t feel like he needs to explain to her something is wrong. they had played this game too long not to know. she’s too damn smart. “i’m not free, but i made some time.” he curtly throws the words onto the table, “would you like to eat lunch?” it sounds more miserly than it should, but he means it.

she had been lost in thought, her gaze peering through the glass of the tea shoppe aimlessly when she had been forcibly removed from them by his sudden appearance. his frosty expression doesn’t match his youthful countenance, and it’s because of this that she immediately knows that something is wrong. anxiety flutters in her stomach like butterflies as dread encases her heart in a cold, vice-like grip, but she masks the trepidation she feels with an equally cool expression of her own. the only sign telltale sign of her apprehension could be seen in the minute trembling of her hands, which she moves off the table and settles into her lap. she doesn’t want to give away how unnerved she is, though he probably realizes anyway. he’s known her long enough to read her like an open book, much to her chagrin; she can’t hide anything from him. 

“hello, jaeho—” she says in greeting after a moment of terse silence. once she trusts her hands to cease their tremors, she pulls out the menus tucked behind the small condiment rack to the side. she passes one his way, eyes glossing over the words; unseeing “—sorry if i pulled you away from anything important. thank you, for making time to see me anyway—” the words feel like ashes in her throat ( suffocating her with every inhale ) but she manages to speak with a wan smile. she turns her eyes back unto the menu, secretively peering over the laminated paper to observe him. she notes the frown that mars his face, the stiffness in his shoulders, the way he looks as if he would rather be anywhere else than here, with her. it dawns on her then, that this was it for them—the end she had known would come along since the start. that very notion is her undoing; it unravels her. letting the menu fall from her hands unto the floor, she stands abruptly, metal chair screeching against the wooden floors. she can’t stomach lunch now that the seed has been planted, the idea that grows ever more powerful every second she looks at him. tears prick at her eyes, threatening to fall, so she turns away, collecting herself with deep breaths, wiping away the stray tear that managed to escape with the end of her sleeve ( she only hopes he doesn’t notice, or it’d only make it harder for her ) “i’m not very hungry. how about we go for a walk instead ?—” at least side by side, she wouldn’t need to look at him wordlessly answering all her fears. ( endure, endure, just endure and it’ll all be over ) sucking in a shaky breath, she grabs her bag from the back of her chair, placing it on her shoulder as she makes her way towards the exit, not waiting to see if he follows her. she didn’t want to do this here, not with so many prying eyes watching them, sitting at the edges of their seats to hear more of their conversation. if today would be their last, it would end on her terms; in a place that would be easily forgettable, somewhere she would walk past and never feel the pinprick of tears. she didn’t want this sad memory in the making to taint one of the few places that made her happy. 

choa waits outside for him, and when she hears the door opening behind her, she turns to face him. with a jerk of her head sideways, she walks, letting her feet lead them wherever. once they were a safe distance from her favorite haunt, and in a part of the city she never frequents, choa speaks the thoughts that had whirled around in her head all throughout the few minutes they spent within the teahouse, “this is it, isn’t it ?—” she's unafraid to face whatever may come her way henceforth. she already knew the ending to this story, now she merely had to play her part in it “—i always knew that this day would come, always dreaded it, really. but now that we’re here, i feel...so calm—” a watery smile spreads over quivering lips, she wraps her coat tighter around her, as if it were the glue that would hold her together once this was all over and done with  “—tell me, lee jaeho, this is the end, isn’t it ?” 

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ JAEHO 01 :・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ you are the other half of my broken heart :・ﾟ #i took a couple liberties with this one #i hope you don't mind lasdfjalksjfd #this came out longer than i wanted to #but when has that never not happened???

[mmchoa]

yuanlan

'oh, my turn! alright, my favourite classes are charms, history of magic and wizarding literature, but i swear ancient runes and dada are right behind them! history of magic really has the reputation of just being… boring, but i really like how it’s almost like reading stories. except they’re real. and we have to analyse them. but i love learning more about the wizarding world because i was raised in the maeobsa world until my parents were sure i have magic in my blood, so i didn’t grow up knowing things others may consider common knowledge. charms and dada are fun, and wizarding literature is always interesting. ancient runes is a little challenging, but enough that it fascinates me instead of pushing me away. my least favourite subjects are potions and herbology. for potions, the theory part isn’t the problem, but somehow i can’t get the hang of actually making potions. and plants just don’t seem to like me, so!’ she lets out a little laugh. 'i dropped herbology, but potions seem to be important for a lot of careers so i’m still suffering through it. and… how i take my coffee and tea? honestly i’ve never been fond of coffee, and i love this type of tea from china called pu'er, have you heard of it? it’s really nice. and lastly, i love cheong ryeong but i think hyeon mu seems really cool as well. we can never have too much wisdom and creativity.’

she inclines her head as she recalls choa’s answer to the last question. 'you said baek ho would have taught you to be braver, but i think you seem pretty brave already. i mean, becoming a curse-breaker and all can’t be easy.'

she’s endeared by how lively yuanlan speaks of her interests, and of herself as a person. it was refreshing listening to how freely her mentee spoke—and choa made mental notes to remember all these tidbits for later. while her mind worked on remembering these, she continued jotting down notes here and there on the spare sheet of paper she had scrounged up earlier. she reacts appropriately, ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ in all the right places, surprised by how much they had in common, whilst being amused by yuanlan’s honesty. a lesser student wouldn’t have been as candid as she to admit what she had. “pu’er ? i think this is the first time i’ve ever heard of it, and i’ve been to a lot of places—” choa comments, organizing her notes “—i’ll have to try it out the next time i visit china on business. if you have any recommendations, please feel free to share them !—” choa smiles serenely as her eyes drop back to the notes she had written whilst yuanlan rambled on. she had a pretty packed schedule, one that abided protocol in pursuit for a higher education after yosul, should she choose to “—from what i have gathered, you’re very well on your way towards a bright future. you have a lot of options open to you, and i think it wise to keep an open mind when thinking about your future. a lot of things will change as you continue your journey with yosul. but don’t worry, you aren’t alone, that’s why i’m here to help and guide you should you have any questions.”

shifting in her seat, choa preens at the praise yuanlan layers on thickly when talking about her house. hyeon mu will always have a special place in her heart. it was a place where she was able to embrace her individuality, something she had been denied of growing up in a household as stifling as the hwang’s. but a person’s school house did not define them, only highlighting the stronger aspects of one’s personality. so it came to her as a surprise that someone saw in her the quality she thought herself lacking, “i suppose you’re right—” she agrees with a small smile before reiterating her earlier thought “—your school house will never define who you are as a person. we all have a little bit of each house in ourselves, and bravery had everything to do with my becoming a curse-breaker. it wasn’t what my family originally planned for me, but now that i’ve undertaken the job, i can’t see myself as anything else. it’s a job that has its occupational hazards, but you could say that life is never boring for my line of work—” her smile widens as she raises her gaze from her notes to her mentee “—i know i’ve mentioned it earlier, but you do have a bright future ahead of you, yuanlan. why don’t we talk about your plans after yosul ? it’s never too early to think about your future, planning ahead puts things into perspective.”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ YUANLAN 01:・ﾟ #tysm for waiting for this honestly #i also apologize for how short this turned out to be alsdfjlskfjd

[mmchoa]

#☽▐▒░ of your eyes; begonia skies:・ﾟ #tryna get into the mood to write rn #but choa is in a silly mood so imma hafta go with her light hearted threads today

[mmchoa]

who the fuck is this guy

his gaze trails to her pale set of hands, her withdrawn shirt now on the floor, then his own hand under her skirt. he only slides his hand just a little far up her skirt, letting his fingers trail before brushing away. pulling in by her waist, he shifts their positions: her now below him, him just a few inches above her, hand next to her head. he’s not one to chase intimacy, nor let things burn up too quickly. after all, what’s a game without the hike?

he speaks with his other hand now right above her heart.

“tell me. do you really want me to?”

“don’t most men just want to get right on with business ?” she quips with more bravado than she feels. she had always been clever, it was one of her more attractive qualities, as she’s been told. all the while she speaks, choa toys with the edge of his shirt, a subtle hint that he’s wearing far too many clothes ( she just wanted a fuck, not idle chit chat ) “i’m simply appealing to your nature—” men were all the same: always more than happy to take, but god forbid they reciprocate and give in return “—isn’t that what you want ?” 

perhaps her attempt at teasing touches a nerve, or maybe he’s just a man that prefers to be in charge—but within the next breath their positions are changed. he hovers above her, the lines of their bodies pressed flush together, his hips cradled betwixt her thighs, her skirt bunched around her waist ( ah, this is what she wanted. the intimacy of not knowing where she ended and where someone else began ) she sees him clearly now that they’re this close, the haze of inebriation having muddled the edges of her vision ( he’s pretty; soft sloping cheeks, pillowy lips, foxlike eyes. he’s so unlike the others before him )  dainty fingers splay themselves upon his shoulders as she shifts beneath him, legs parting wider as an invitation as her hands slide down the expanse of his clothed chest, until she reaches the end of his shirt. fisting the material, she tugs it upward, exposing his flesh ( a step in the direction she wants them to go in ) 

“i’ve brought you here, haven’t i ?” there’s an edge of frustration and embarrassment in her voice as she answers his question, albeit indirectly. she’s done more than enough with how transparent she’s been with her intentions, of what she wants out of him. with her free hand, she curls her fingers into the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer until their lips touch again. she pours herself into that kiss, hoping to communicate her desperation and loneliness, her want for validation, her need to feel desired. it’s pitiful, the lengths she’ll go to temporarily fill the gaping void.  “i really, really would like to not have to repeat myself.”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ HARAM 01 :・ﾟ #i'm not gonna even bother with a read more #its a pain in my ass to format alsdkfjaslkdf #anyway take this reply and go off #tw nsfw

[mmchoa]

jiyi

as they both dig into the cakes and their drinks, jiyi taps the fork against her lips, thinking of a nice way to frame her request. “hmm… if you aren’t too busy, unnie, maybe you could help me with my spells? i mean, you’ll know, my wand isn’t always predictable.” she pouts, and takes another bite of the cake, chews around it before adding, “an’ you were really good in the dueling club, but i never really got the chance to ask you for help then…” she smiles, and gives choa her best puppy dog eyes. “do you think you’d have the time to help me out, please?”

it comes to no surprise that jiyi has taken a peek through her sketchbook. it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, that curiosity got the better of someone. while others shied away from sharing their works, choa loved it, loved sharing how she viewed the world with others, wondering if they too saw it the same way she did. whatever pages jiyi flipped through, she only hoped she loved and found beauty in the depictions she roughly sketched out onto the pages. “thank you—” choa leaves it at that, sending a knowing look at jiyi that she hoped conveyed she understood “—and you’re welcome. please enjoy yourself, jiyi.”

choa polishes off the rest of her tea in one gulp, setting down the empty tea cup, but refusing a refill when their waiter came by and asked. she takes up her fork, carefully stealing a forkful of the cake her dongsaeng ordered. they continue in silence, trading pieces of each other’s cakes until both were gone. wiping the corner of her lips, she leans forward once jiyi begins to speak, taking up the offer choa had extended earlier. she had expected maybe a trinket from her next trip abroad, not a request for her to oversee jiyi’s training. it wasn’t an odd request per se—choa found that she has a knack for tutoring—she just hadn’t expected jiyi to have such an invested interest. “i’d be more than happy to help—” choa finds herself saying before she could stop herself; curiosity getting the better of her. she was intrigued by the newfound information of jiyi’s relationship with her wand, and this was the perfect opportunity to study their dynamic firsthand “—we’ll both benefit from this. i get to brush up on my skills, and you learn how to tame your wand. i think it’s a win-win situation. i just have one question, though: what do you mean by your wand being unpredictable ? does it act of its own accord ? has a spell failed you ?”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ JIYI 01 :・ﾟ

[mmchoa]

a little sympathy, i hope you can show me @mmharam

she doesn’t know how she could let herself fall this far. choa has known all along that she’s been slipping through the cracks, bits and pieces of herself falling away as she continues down her path to self-destruction. so starved of touch and affection, she chose to seek it in all the wrong places. she sought company in the arms of strangers: begged for their touch and attention with coy smiles and secretive glances. she yearned to feel someone’s hands apply pressure to her hips, for those same hands to spread her thighs and touch her. for a touch so featherlight, to glide across the skin of her ribs, for fingers to wrap themselves around the column of her neck, making her breath hitch in the back of her throat as lungs burn with the need to breathe. she sought out pleasure and pain, forces that would push her mind into a subspace so she could focus on sensation without overthinking it—because overthinking was something hwang choa does best.

those desires are what brings her here now, with a man whose name she’ll never ask for, or know, to her front doorstep. she never takes anyone home; it went against her modus operandi, messed with her need to escape in the middle of the night once the deed was done. perhaps it goes to show how desperate she was, of how badly she was spiraling out of control where she willingly invites a man into her space. there was something so intimate about allowing another human into a place she considered her haven, it felt sacrilegious, even. but sheer desperation clouded her mind as she finds herself punching in the code to her door. peering over her shoulder, she makes eye contact with the first man she’s ever brought home, leading him in before she could change her mind.

“make yourself comfortable,” choa murmurs, pushing him down onto her couch as she robotically removes her coat, letting it slide to the floor before she peals off her shirt, throwing it behind her. ( she’ll clean up after she kicks him out ) stepping in between his legs, with her hands braced onto his shoulders, she leans down, her hair falling into a curtain around them as she ghosts her lips over his, pressing forward until they finally touch. it ignites something in her; a fiery need to be closer to someone, to feel their skin slide against hers. she pulls away after a breath, taking one of his hands in hers, sliding it up underneath her skirt until he touches the apex of her thigh. “touch me—” her voice is raspy, face flushed “—please ?”

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ HARAM 01 :・ﾟ #tw nsfw #tw asphyxiation #tw bad decisions #tw everything ngl this thread is meant to fuck up choa #put it under a cut bc...yeah 😔

[mmchoa]

it’s probably nothing, choa thinks as she’s led away from the lobby and into one of the private examination rooms of the facility. just a little cramping. nothing unusual. it’s probably mother nature giving warning that her menstrual cycle would be rearing its ugly head sometime soon. ugh. thanking the receptionist, choa pushes past the door, taking a seat in one of the chairs as she waits for the healer to come in and tell her what she already knows. she shouldn’t need to get a clearance for her job, but the agency that hired her services insisted. they didn’t want to be held accountable for any injuries—sustained or otherwise—while she worked with them. which was understandable, but did she like it ? no.

she’s shaken out of her thoughts when the door opens, the healer finally decided to deign her with their appearance. a greeting was on the tip of her tongue, but it dies in the back of her throat when a familiar face greets her. jung heeyeon. one of the few people she could say she had been close to at yosul. one of the many she had left behind during the darkest part of her life. 

well...this was awkward.

“hello heeyeon,” choa smiles, fidgeting with the ends of her shirt, nervous. “long time no see ?”

&&. NEVER SIMPLE, NEVER EASY.

female, 26, came in for a routine checkup after abdominal pains. a previous miscarriage. 

it gives heeyeon pause from where she’s perusing the file on her next patient. shit, she’s heeyeon’s age and had already had a miscarriage? she can almost feel her biological clock tick mockingly at her, reminding her she doesn’t even have a decade before she’s 35, and glares at the actual clock hanging on the wall of her break room. her pager beeps insistently again, and with a groan, she peels herself off where she’s lying in bed. her hatred for the flow of time can wait– she’s got a patient to look over.

“hi, good morning. i’m jung heeyeon, and i’ll be looking after you today.” heeyeon knows it’s rude, but her eyes are on the medical history instead of them,double-checking to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. “miss–” 

yikes.

yikes yikes yikes yikes yikes.

goddamn it, check the name too, heeyeon.

“choa.”

for @mmchoa ♡

#☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ HEEYEON 01 :・ﾟ

[mmchoa]

& i know when that hotline bling @taejoonmm

she sways in her seat, moving in time with the electric beat that bounced from wall to wall; a heavy rhythm with which her heart matched. tilting her head back, choa polishes off her fifth beer in a row. sliding the empty glass towards the bartender for another bottle, the woman manning the front looks at her skeptically before giving her another, which choa greedily accepts and sips at. as she finishes her refill, a familiar song comes on—one that she’s sung at the top of her lungs, hairbrush in hand, while jumping on her bed. a song that never fails to send, a song full of nostalgia. sliding off the barstool, choa runs into the belly of the beast, shouldering past other dancers until she’s in the very thick of it. the energy around her pulses in tandem with the music, and as the track reaches its peak, a cacophony of voices sing back the lyrics of the song that’s wrapped them all around its finger. pressed between bodies, choa swings her head wildly, side to side, up and down, feeling the music that thrums heavenly in her veins; like adrenaline. when she peels back her eyelids, she’s dazzled by the lights glinting technicolor overhead, and as her gaze focuses to those dancing around her, she spies a familiar face through writhing bodies and wayward limbs. it’s the face of a man she hasn’t seen in years, and one she hoped to never see again. ( i need to leave, i need to get out, i can’t be here, i can’t, i can’t, i can’t— ) so she flees; absconding the dance floor, and out past the glass double doors caging patrons within. the chilly breeze is sobering, and it gives choa the moment of clarity she needs. ( walk away, just walk away. don’t go back there. don’t go where he is ) but she remains, back pressed against stucco, sliding down until her ass touches cold concrete. with trembling hands, she pulls her phone from her front pocket, fingers swiping endlessly, eyes blearily searching for the name she had once tattooed on her heart.

she holds her phone against her ear, gnawing on her bottom lip as her call goes straight through to his voicemail. it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, especially considering how they owe each other nothing, but she had hoped. ending the call, she foolishly attempts again, hoping that she could reach him, to give him a piece of her mind. much to her surprise, he picks up on the second ring, and before he could get a word in edgewise, choa speaks her mind, words spilling from her lips like a waterfall. “do you ever regret it—” she starts, lips trembling, eyes misting over “—leaving, i mean. when you left, i thought that nothing could get any worse. but i was so wrong. after you left, everything went down hill from there. everything that could have gone wrong did. whenever i look back to that part of my life, i always wonder what i could have done to change what happened, and every logical argument i came up with always led back to you. you ruined my life. i wish i never fucking met you.”

#taejoonmm #☽▐▒░ everything you think you know is nothing more than memories:・ﾟ #☽▐▒░ TAEJOON 01 :・ﾟ #bless u for taking that plot bunny lsfjlasjf #choa's never going to be able to look him in the face again #is that taejoon rounding the corner? choa runs in the other direction 🤡