༊*·˚ Magpies Crossing

༊*·˚ magpies crossing

.ೃ࿐ myth inspiration: the cowherd and the weaver girl

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing: jungwon (enhypen) x goddess!reader *ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: a mortal farmer, jungwon, and, you, a celestial goddess fall deeply in love; but, the heavens won't stand for your union, separating you by creating the milky way and leaving you worlds apart. however, every year, you are granted one night to reunite on a bridge of magpies, your love enduring through the stars and time itself. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre(s): chinese mythology, romance, angst *ੈ✩‧₊˚ word count: 7.6k

.ೃ࿐ mythology: retold masterlist

Jungwon never asked for anything more than what he already had—a simple life on his family’s farm, surrounded by endless fields of golden wheat and the gentle rhythm of nature. He liked the predictability of it. Every morning, the sun rose over the hills, and every evening, it set behind the trees, casting the world in shades of orange and purple. He worked with his hands, felt the soil beneath his feet, and found peace in the company of his six brothers. Life was steady. Life was good.

That is, until the day he found the fox.

It had started like any other afternoon. Jungwon had finished his morning chores and decided to walk through the forest that bordered the farm. But today, something was different. There, just ahead of him, stood a small fox—but it wasn’t an ordinary one. Its fur shimmered in the dappled light that filtered through the trees, and as it turned to look at him, Jungwon noticed something strange. The fox had two tails.

Jungwon’s curiosity took over, his feet moving before he could stop them. What is this fox? he wondered, eyes tracking the small, two-tailed creature as it darted deeper into the woods. His heartbeat quickened, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the sudden chase or the strange pull he felt toward the fox.

He paused, glancing back toward the direction of his home. His brothers were likely finishing up the day's work, completely unaware of what he was doing. Maybe I should turn around. I shouldn’t leave my work unfinished. But even as the thought crossed his mind, his legs refused to stop moving. There was something about the fox, something about the way its tails flicked in the fading light, like it was calling him—leading him somewhere important.

Where are you taking me? he wondered as branches and leaves whipped by, the dense forest swallowing him whole. He couldn’t explain it, but deep in his gut, he knew he had to keep going. If I lose sight of it, I might never know. The thought alone sent a shiver down his spine, urging him to pick up the pace.

The underbrush seemed to part just for the fox, but for Jungwon, each step was a battle. He stumbled, caught his breath, and forced his legs to move faster. There was an unshakable feeling that if he lost the fox, he’d be missing out on something—something life-changing.

This is crazy. I don’t even know where I am anymore, he thought as he brushed past a low-hanging branch, the fox still just out of reach. But then he caught a glimpse of a glimmering stream through the trees, and suddenly, his doubts faded. Something waited for him there. He could feel it. Just a little farther. I’m almost there.

As he stumbled into the clearing, his breath caught in his throat. What… who is that?

You were standing by the water’s edge, your feet dipping into the clear stream as you washed a set of robes that seemed to glow with a soft, otherworldly light. Jungwon froze. You weren’t like anyone he had ever seen. There was something ethereal about you, something beyond the world he knew; you were radiant, like a piece of the sky had fallen to earth, soft light reflecting off your robe in a way that made you seem otherworldly. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

His chest tightened, breath catching in his throat. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever seen. That realization hit him hard. Your movements were fluid, effortless, and your entire presence seemed to glow, not just with the light from the stream, but with something... more. Something he couldn’t name.

What is this feeling? His hands instinctively curled into fists at his sides, trying to steady himself, trying to keep from stumbling under the weight of whatever was washing over him. But it was no use. The longer he stood there, the more the world around him blurred, until all that was left was you, as if you were the only thing that truly existed.

His mind raced. She’s not from here... she can’t be. But then... why does it feel like I was meant to find her? He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to stay still, though every instinct told him to step closer, to speak, to say something—anything.

I should leave... I should go. But I can’t. He was rooted to the spot, mesmerized. His thoughts grew hazy, his heart pounding in his ears, and all he could do was watch as you moved with that same quiet grace, the world around you seemingly bending to your will.

I’ve never seen anyone so... beautiful. The word felt too simple to describe what he was feeling, but it was the only one his mind could grasp. In this moment, Jungwon knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never forget this sight.

You turned, meeting his gaze with a soft, knowing smile, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Neither of you said anything at first, the silence thick with unspoken questions. Who was this mysterious figure by the water? And what was a simple farmer like Jungwon doing here, standing in the presence of what could only be a goddess?

The fox—now sitting beside you, its two tails lazily swishing through the grass—broke the silence. "It’s been far too long since we last crossed paths, goddess," the fox said, its tone soft but filled with the weight of ancient knowledge.

You turned to the fox with a warm smile, your expression softening in recognition. "It has been a long time, indeed," you replied, your voice carrying the same familiarity, as though you were greeting an old companion from a life long past. "I thought you’d be lost to the world by now, old friend."

The fox flicked its two tails, as if amused by the idea. “Banished I may be, but forgotten? Never.” Its gaze shifted briefly toward Jungwon, who stood frozen, still trying to make sense of what he was witnessing. The fox’s eyes gleamed as it regarded him. “It seems fate has been weaving strange threads while you’ve been away.”

Your gaze followed the fox’s, and for the first time, your eyes met Jungwon’s. There was a brief moment of silence as you studied him, your expression unreadable, yet calm. His presence seemed to catch you slightly off guard, though not unpleasantly.

"Who might you be?" you asked softly, tilting your head ever so slightly, curiosity flickering in your eyes. Jungwon swallowed, his heart pounding as he scrambled to find words.

“I-I’m Jungwon,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt ridiculous, standing there in the presence of a goddess—an actual goddess—fumbling over his own name. His thoughts were racing. How can someone be this... perfect? Her presence was like a force he couldn’t quite comprehend, pulling him in with a quiet, magnetic intensity.

The fox chuckled softly, clearly amused by the sudden shift in energy. "It seems you’ve stumbled upon something unexpected, haven’t you, goddess?”

Jungwon’s breath hitched at the fox’s words. Is it talking about me? He couldn’t be sure, but the weight of its comment sent heat rushing to his face, and he shifted awkwardly under your gaze.

You looked at Jungwon for a moment longer, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips, though you didn’t respond to the fox’s teasing. Instead, you simply nodded, acknowledging his presence with quiet grace. "Well, Jungwon," you said, your voice as gentle as a breeze. "It seems the world has brought us together for a reason."

Jungwon didn’t know what to say. He’d always been a man of few words, but now he was completely at a loss. How was it that you—someone so far beyond his simple world—could be standing here, talking to him?

But something in your eyes put him at ease. You weren’t just a goddess, distant and untouchable. You were kind, warm, and curious about him—about the life he led and the world he lived in. And as the days turned into weeks, you and Jungwon became more than just strangers. You became friends. Then something more.

He showed you the beauty of his simple life—the feeling of the sun on your skin as you worked in the fields, the joy of sharing meals with family, the peacefulness of watching the heavens at night. In return, you shared stories of the heavens, of places Jungwon couldn’t even dream of, filled with beings and wonders far beyond his imagination.

One morning, before the sun had fully risen, he led you to the fields. The early light bathed everything in soft, golden hues, the dew still clinging to the grass. “This,” Jungwon said, his voice quiet as he gestured to the horizon, “is why I never mind waking up early.”

You watched the sky slowly transform, and for a moment, you understood what he meant. The beauty of the world before it fully awoke felt special, almost sacred. “It’s peaceful,” you murmured, feeling the warmth of the sun’s first rays.

Jungwon smiled at your words, a quiet kind of pride lighting up his face. “Yeah, it is. There’s something about mornings like this—it makes everything feel... right.” He glanced at you, his eyes soft as if hoping you could feel that same peace.

Later, he taught you the rhythm of tending to the crops. Though the work was new to you, Jungwon’s patience and gentle instruction made it easier. He knelt beside you, showing you how to plant the seeds in neat rows. His hands were steady, strong from years of farming, and you mimicked his movements, a little unsure at first.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” Jungwon said with a smile, watching as you carefully patted the soil.

You looked up at him, a hint of amusement in your eyes. “Not bad for a goddess, right?”

He chuckled, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “Not bad at all. You might even make a decent farmer.”

The day was full of moments like this—small, quiet exchanges that carried more weight than either of you would have admitted. And when the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the farm, Jungwon looked at you with that same quiet smile. “Come on, there’s one more thing I want to show you.”

He led you to the modest house where he lived with his six brothers. As you approached, their laughter spilled out into the evening air, filling the space with warmth. Jungwon opened the door and stepped inside, gesturing for you to follow.

Inside, his brothers immediately noticed you. Heeseung, the oldest, raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So, this is the goddess Jungwon’s been talking about?”

Jungwon flushed, scratching the back of his neck. “I haven’t been talking about her,” he mumbled, casting a quick glance your way.

Jake stepped forward, grinning. “Welcome to our home,” he said, extending a hand. “We’re a little rough around the edges, but we’re glad to meet you.”

The others quickly followed suit, each brother offering their own warm greeting. You found yourself smiling, surprised by how easily they welcomed you into their world. They asked you questions about the heavens, their eyes lighting up as you shared stories of things they could barely imagine. In return, they shared their own tales of life on Earth, filled with the simple joys of family and friendship.

Jungwon watched from the side, his eyes soft as he saw you fitting in so naturally with his brothers. His world—once simple and quiet—now felt fuller with you in it.

The next morning, after meeting Jungwon's brothers, you found yourself back in the fields with him. The morning sky stretched wide and open above you, soft wisps of clouds lazily drifting through the air. Jungwon watched them for a moment before glancing at you, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“Funny thing about clouds,” he said, his voice light, but with a quiet reverence. “They always look like they’re placed there for a reason, like someone’s carefully painting the sky each day.”

You followed his gaze, watching as the clouds gently shifted and changed form, feeling a familiar connection you hadn’t noticed until now. The patterns were subtle, the shapes delicate, as if they were weaving themselves together. A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, a small recognition, though you didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.

Jungwon leaned against a fencepost, still looking at the sky. “I used to think it was something magical when I was a kid,” he added softly. “Like the clouds were being guided by something—or someone—that knew exactly how to make them perfect.”

You felt a warmth in your chest, the light breeze carrying the softest hint of your influence across the sky. It wasn’t something Jungwon could fully understand, not in words, but you could tell he felt it—this quiet, unspoken connection to the world above. The sky seemed to respond to him, to both of you, moving with the same quiet grace that had drawn him to you in the first place.

As the clouds swirled gently overhead, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew—if on some level, he recognized the work of your hands woven into the fabric of the heavens. But when you glanced at him, he simply smiled, his expression content, as though the world itself had already told him everything he needed to know.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The days between you and Jungwon passed like a dream, each one blending effortlessly into the next. It was the small things that made your time together so special—moments that, on the surface, seemed insignificant, but were the ones that began to weave something deeper between you.

In the mornings, you would rise with him to watch the sun paint the sky, your shoulders brushing lightly as you stood side by side in the quiet of dawn. You began to look forward to these moments, the way the first light hit his face, casting soft shadows that highlighted the gentleness in his expression. You didn’t say much in those early hours, but the silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding.

One afternoon, as you both worked in the fields, Jungwon caught your gaze after a playful remark from one of his brothers. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and for the first time, you noticed the way your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you like that. It was small, barely noticeable, but it lingered long after the moment passed. He had a way of seeing you—not as a goddess, but simply as you—and that was something you hadn’t realized you longed for.

He wasn’t grand with his affection, but it was there in every subtle gesture: the way he would offer his hand to help you across a stream, the way his voice softened when he spoke your name, the way he would glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

And as the days went by, you found yourself returning these small gestures. A quiet touch on his arm when he made you laugh, a shared glance across the dinner table, the way your hands seemed to always find each other’s when you walked through the fields.

It was one of those quiet evenings, the two of you walking along the edge of the woods, that Jungwon paused and turned to face you. His expression was soft, almost vulnerable, as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes searched yours, as if he were trying to understand the feeling growing between you both.

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your heart beating a little faster. “I’ve never met anyone like you either,” you replied, your voice just as soft.

The world around you seemed to fade, and for a moment, it was just the two of you standing there, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Jungwon’s hand lingered by your face, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin before he let it fall back to his side, as if unsure whether he should close the distance between you or not.

The space between you felt charged with something new—something fragile but undeniable. You hadn’t expected to feel this way, not here, not in this simple, mortal life. But the more time you spent with Jungwon, the more you realized that your heart was tethering itself to his, slowly but surely.

Neither of you said anything more that evening, but the connection between you had deepened, the quiet moments filled with a warmth that hadn’t been there before. As the days continued, you found yourselves gravitating closer to one another, each touch, each glance, heavy with the weight of feelings you hadn’t yet put into words.

And though the clouds above occasionally seemed to shift in a way that reminded you of your divine origins, you found yourself pushing those thoughts aside. Here, in this life, you were falling deeper in love with each passing day.

Jungwon didn’t know it, and maybe you didn’t either, but the world around you was changing—shaped by something greater than either of you could control. But for now, that didn’t matter. What mattered was the way your heart seemed to race when you saw him smile, the way your fingers lingered just a little longer each time they brushed his.

You and Jungwon were falling in love—slowly, gently, and completely. And for now, that was all that mattered.

But love doesn’t always bend to the will of the world.

It wasn’t long before the heavens took notice of your absence. And when they did, they weren’t pleased. You were a goddess, after all, and you had duties that couldn’t be ignored. Your time on Earth was over, they said. You had to return. No matter how much you loved Jungwon, the two of you could never truly be together. He was mortal, bound to the earth, while you belonged to the heavens.

The evening had started just like any other. You and Jungwon had wandered to the edge of the woods, a quiet place where you often shared moments of peace. But tonight felt different, even if neither of you said it out loud. The air seemed heavier, the sky above painted with deep oranges and reds as the sun set, casting long shadows across the ground.

Jungwon stood close to you, closer than usual, and when he turned to face you, there was something in his eyes you hadn’t seen before—something that made your heart lurch in your chest. His hand reached out, hesitant at first, before cupping your cheek with a tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palm grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and terrifying.

“I don’t want this to ever end,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, like he was fighting to keep the words steady. His thumb brushed lightly over your skin, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingers. “I don’t care what happens, I just—” He paused, his breath catching. “I want to stay with you. Always.”

His words hit you like a wave, crashing over the quiet certainty you had tried to build within yourself. You had felt this moment creeping closer with every day, the pull from the heavens becoming more persistent, more demanding. But hearing Jungwon say it, hearing the raw, unguarded emotion in his voice—it broke something inside you.

You stepped closer to him, your forehead resting gently against his, your eyes closed as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want this to end either.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, his heartbeat steady but fast beneath your ear. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of what was left unsaid pressing down on both of you. The quiet promise of forever hung in the air between you, heavy and fragile.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands clutching his shirt as if letting go would mean losing him forever. “I’m scared,” you admitted, the words breaking free before you could stop them. “I’m scared that one day, this will all disappear. That I’ll be taken away... that I’ll have no choice.”

Jungwon shook his head fiercely, his hands moving to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had finally escaped. “No,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “No, I won’t let that happen. We’ll find a way. We’ll fight for this.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that love—your love—could bend the rules of the world, that it could hold back the tides of fate. But deep down, you knew. The heavens wouldn’t wait much longer. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, not now. Not when everything felt so fragile and beautiful.

“I love you,” he whispered suddenly, the words raw and unpolished, like he had never spoken them before. His eyes searched yours, pleading, as if saying it aloud could make it real—make it permanent. “I love you more than anything. Please, just stay with me.”

The force of his confession left you breathless, your heart aching with the intensity of it all. You reached up, your hand trembling as you traced the line of his jaw, trying to memorize every inch of him—the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his lips parted slightly when he was nervous. “I love you too,” you breathed, the words barely audible but filled with every ounce of truth you had. “I’ll always love you, no matter what happens. You have to believe that.”

His grip on you tightened, a desperate edge to the way he held you, like he was trying to anchor you to the Earth itself. “Then stay,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Stay with me. We can make this work. I don’t care what you are or where you’re from. You’re here now. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.”

Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head, the weight of the inevitable crashing down around you. “I want to, Jungwon. I want to stay more than anything.” You swallowed hard, your throat tight with the emotion you could no longer contain. “But I don’t know if I can. I can feel it—something’s pulling me back. And I’m so scared that one day...”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice fierce and determined. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll go with you if I have to. We’ll find a way to stay together.”

The pain in his voice broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you pulled him down into a kiss. It was soft at first, tentative and filled with all the unsaid promises, but as the reality of the situation settled in, it deepened—desperate, filled with the fear of what was to come.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you closer as if holding you could keep you tethered to him, to the Earth. But even as you kissed him, you could feel it—the subtle tug, the call from the heavens growing stronger, more insistent. It was only a matter of time.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other’s as you tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling around you.

“I love you,” you whispered again, your voice shaky, but the words as true as ever.

Before Jungwon could respond, the sky above you began to shimmer, a soft glow that grew brighter by the second. His arms tightened around you, panic flashing across his face as he looked up at the light. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, no, no, not yet. Please, not yet.”

You clung to him, your heart shattering as the light intensified. “I’m so sorry,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry, Jungwon.”

The light enveloped you, pulling you away from him, and despite his grip, your hand began to slip from his. He fought it, his eyes wild with desperation, but it was no use. You were being taken back to where you belonged—back to the heavens.

“I love you,” you called out, your voice breaking as you were pulled further and further away. “I’ll find a way for us to be together again. I promise.”

As the light pulled you away, the world around Jungwon began to crumble. His heart pounded in his chest, fighting against the unbearable truth of your departure. But even as your figure grew smaller, your words echoed in his ears.

Then, as the light began to fade, leaving him standing alone beneath the darkening sky, something inside him shifted. He could feel the emptiness settling in, the hollowness where your presence had once been, but even in that moment of unbearable loss, a fire ignited in his heart. He wouldn’t let this be the end. Not like this.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered fiercely into the night, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. I swear it.” His chest tightened, but the words came out stronger this time. “I will never love another soul. My heart belongs to you, and you alone.”

Jungwon’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn’t allow himself to crumble, not now. Not when there was still a promise hanging in the air—your promise to find him again, no matter the distance between your worlds.

“I will meet you again with the same heart, with the same love that I have now. No matter how long it takes... I’ll be here. I’ll always be here,” he vowed, his voice steadier now, filled with unshakable resolve.

The heavens above seemed to hum, as if they had heard his vow, as if they bore witness to the promise he made to you.

With the last of the light disappearing into the heavens, Jungwon stood beneath the vast sky, his heart heavy but determined. He would wait. Jungwon’s vow echoed into the vast night sky. His love for you would never fade, and no matter how long the heavens kept you apart, he would wait for you—for eternity, if that’s what it took.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

After you were taken from him, the world seemed to dull for Jungwon. He woke each morning to the same sunrise he once loved, but now it felt hollow, the warmth of the light unable to reach him. The farm still needed tending, the crops still needed care, but everything Jungwon once did with joy now felt like a burden. His hands moved automatically, planting seeds, gathering crops, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

His brothers noticed the change almost immediately. Jungwon, who had once been the quiet source of calm and stability, now moved through life as if in a daze. They would find him standing in the fields, staring up at the sky for hours, as if waiting for something—someone—to return. His usually soft smiles had all but disappeared, replaced by a distant, haunted look.

Heeseung was the first to bring it up one evening, after dinner. The others had gone to bed, but Jungwon remained outside, sitting on the steps of the farmhouse, gazing blankly at the horizon.

“Jungwon,” Heeseung called softly, sitting down beside him. “You’ve been... different. Ever since—” He hesitated, unsure of how to finish his sentence. “Ever since she left.”

Jungwon’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the sky.

“I know you loved her,” Heeseung continued, his voice gentle. “But you have to keep living. You can’t wait forever, Jungwon. She’s gone.”

Jungwon’s chest tightened painfully at Heeseung’s words, but still, he didn’t respond. Heeseung sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’re worried about you.”

Jungwon swallowed hard, the weight of his brother’s concern pressing down on him. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the words felt empty even to him.

But he wasn’t fine. Not really. Every day since you had been taken away felt like he was moving through water, slow and heavy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, that a part of him had been ripped away the moment you vanished into the heavens.

His brothers tried to pull him back into their routines—inviting him to join them for work, for meals, for the small moments of joy that used to come so easily. But Jungwon barely participated. He would nod, offer a weak smile, and then retreat back into the quiet of his own mind, always waiting, always hoping for a sign of you.

Weeks passed, and the emptiness only grew deeper. Jungwon’s world felt like it had lost its color, the vibrant life he once cherished now a faded echo of what it had been. His heart ached every time he thought of you, and despite his brothers’ best efforts, nothing could fill the void you had left behind.

Then, one afternoon, as Jungwon wandered the familiar path through the forest near the farm, something caught his eye. He stopped, his breath hitching as he saw it—the small, familiar figure of a fox with two tails standing just beyond the trees, its eyes glinting with a knowing gaze.

The fox hadn’t appeared since the day it led him to you, and for a moment, Jungwon thought he might be imagining it. But as the fox stepped forward, the leaves crunching under its paws, Jungwon knew it was real.

“You again,” Jungwon muttered, his voice rough from weeks of silence. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or angry. The fox had been there when he first met you, and now, after all this time, it had returned.

The fox tilted its head, its two tails swaying softly behind it. “You’ve been waiting,” it said simply, its voice calm, almost curious.

Jungwon’s throat tightened, and he clenched his fists. “Of course I’ve been waiting,” he said bitterly, unable to hide the frustration that had been building inside him. “She’s... she’s everything. I can’t just go back to how things were. I won’t.”

The fox’s gaze softened slightly, as if it understood more than it let on. “You love her deeply,” it said, its tone full of something Jungwon couldn’t quite place—sympathy, perhaps, or something like respect.

Jungwon’s voice wavered. “More than anything,” he whispered. “I told her I’d wait. And I will. I can’t imagine living without her.”

The fox took another step closer, its eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion. “There are forces at work beyond your understanding, Jungwon. But there is still a way for you to see her again—if only for a moment.”

Jungwon’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. “What are you saying?” he asked, his voice laced with both hope and disbelief. “I can... see her?”

The fox nodded. “I can help you bridge the gap between your world and hers,” it said softly. “But it will only be for a short time.”

Jungwon’s mind raced, the possibility of seeing you again—of holding you, even if just for a moment—filling him with a hope he hadn’t felt since the day you were taken. His chest tightened with the weight of the decision, but there was no hesitation in his heart. He would take whatever time he could get with you.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please, help me see her.”

The fox’s eyes softened as it nodded once more, stepping forward to lead him into the clearing where the sky opened up wide and clear above them.

Jungwon followed, his heart pounding in his chest, as the fox worked its magic, weaving the connection between earth and heaven. And as the moon began to shimmer and blur, Jungwon felt it—your presence, as familiar and warm as the first time he had met you.

And then, there you were—standing among the clouds, glowing softly, your eyes filled with the same love and longing that mirrored his own.

“Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice like a melody carried on the wind.

Tears filled his eyes as he gazed up at you, his heart aching with everything he hadn’t been able to say since you left.

“You’re here,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His hands trembled as he reached out, and when your fingers touched, it was like the universe had realigned, pulling you both back into place. His heart pounded as he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, unwilling to let you go.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed, his words tumbling out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. “I’ve waited for you. There was no life to live when you took my heart with you to the heavens.”

You held him just as tightly, your fingers weaving through his hair as you pressed your forehead to his. “My hands could no longer weave clouds across the fabric of the universe, for my soul has stayed behind on earth, bound to you,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your own emotions. “I love you, Jungwon.”

For a brief moment, the pain, the separation, the distance—all of it faded. There was only you and Jungwon, wrapped in each other’s arms, hearts beating in time as if no force in the universe could tear you apart.

But then, a shadow fell across the sky, and the air grew still. The moon, its light once basking brightly around you, seemed to dim as if the heavens themselves had grown cold.

Jungwon felt it before he saw it—the presence of something powerful, something divine. He looked up, his arms still wrapped around you, and his heart sank when he saw her: the Queen Mother of the Heavens, descending from the abyss, her eyes fixed on the two of you with an expression that chilled him to the bone.

You turned to face her, your hand gripping Jungwon’s tightly, fear flashing in your eyes. You knew what was coming, even before she raised her hand.

“Enough,” her voice echoed, carrying the weight of the heavens themselves. “This union cannot continue. You belong to the heavens, and he belongs to the earth.”

“No!” Jungwon cried out, stepping in front of you, his heart racing. “We belong together. I won’t let you take her from me again.”

But the Queen Mother’s expression remained cold, unmoved by his words. Slowly, she reached into her hair and pulled out a long, elegant hairpin. The moment she did, the air around you began to shift, the sky darkening as the clouds trembled.

“Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice filled with panic as the realization of what was happening settled in. “She’s going to—”

Before you could finish, the Queen Mother raised the hairpin high above her head. With one swift, fluid motion, she slashed it through the sky, and the stars themselves seemed to ripple and split apart. A rift of light stretched across the heavens, separating you from Jungwon in a sudden, violent motion.

“No!” Jungwon’s voice cracked as he reached for you, but his hand grasped at empty space. The stars between you had formed a vast, impenetrable river of light—a galaxy separating the two of you, shimmering cold and distant, a barrier that no mortal or divine could cross.

You stood on the other side, your eyes wide with disbelief, your hand still outstretched toward Jungwon. Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head. “Jungwon... I’m so sorry...”

Jungwon’s heart shattered, the pain of the separation unbearable. He reached for you again, but the rift was too wide, too vast. Stars now stood between you, a physical manifestation of the cruel distance that had always existed between your worlds.

The Queen Mother’s voice echoed once more, final and absolute. “You will never be together. Your worlds were never meant to be united.”

But Jungwon refused to accept it. He clenched his fists, his eyes burning with determination. “I will wait,” he shouted, his voice carrying across the rift of stars. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. We’ll meet again—in this life and in every life that follows.”

Your tear-filled eyes met his from across the divide, your heart breaking with every word. “I’ll find a way, Jungwon,” you called out, your voice trembling. “I swear, I’ll come back to you.”

And though the Queen Mother of the Heavens stood between you, her power absolute, the vow you and Jungwon had made to each other hung in the air—stronger than the stars, stronger than the rift that now separated your worlds.

You and Jungwon had been torn apart, but your love remained. The Milky Way now stretched between you, shimmering with the same light that had once brought you together. But neither of you would forget your promise.

The stars may have kept you apart, but they couldn’t erase what you shared.

One day, you would find each other again.

But the story didn’t end there.

Moved by the strength of your love, the gods showed a rare moment of mercy. They allowed you and Jungwon one day each year to be together. On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, magpies would fly from all corners of the earth, forming a bridge across the sky, linking the heavens and the earth. On that day, you and Jungwon could meet again, if only for a few fleeting hours.

A year had passed since the rift of stars had been cast between you and Jungwon, since the heavens had torn you away from him and placed the vast expanse of the stars between your worlds. For Jungwon, every day felt like an eternity. The farm, the fields, even his brothers—all of it had lost its light without you by his side. And yet, through the pain and the endless waiting, he held onto the promise you had made to each other.

He had vowed to wait for you, no matter how long it took, and he kept that vow with every beat of his heart. The stars, once a comfort, now only reminded him of the distance that kept you apart. But still, he looked to the heavens each night, his heart aching, knowing that you were up there, somewhere, feeling the same longing.

Then, on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, something extraordinary happened. As Jungwon stood in the fields, his gaze drifting toward the endless sky, he saw them—magpies, hundreds of them, their wings shimmering like stardust as they flew in from every direction. They circled high above, forming a beautiful, ethereal bridge that stretched across the Milky Way, connecting the heavens and the earth.

Jungwon’s heart leapt in his chest as the realization hit him. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he had held onto through all the pain and separation. The gods, moved by the strength of your love, had granted you a single day—a day when the barrier between your worlds would disappear, and you could finally be together again.

Without hesitation, Jungwon ran toward the bridge, his feet carrying him faster than they ever had before. His pulse raced, hope surging through him as he ascended the shimmering path of feathers and light. Every step felt like a dream, as though the distance between you was finally melting away.

And then, there you were.

At the other end of the bridge, standing beneath the glow of the stars, you waited for him, your form radiant and beautiful, just as he remembered. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. The longing, the heartache, the endless nights spent apart—it all disappeared in the instant your gaze locked.

Jungwon’s breath hitched as he approached you, his heart pounding with so many emotions he couldn’t begin to name. “You’re really here,” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief and joy. “I’m not dreaming...”

Tears filled your eyes as you took a step toward him, your hand reaching out, tentative at first, as though you, too, couldn’t believe this was real. “Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice breaking with the weight of everything you had kept inside for so long. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”

He didn’t wait. In the next moment, Jungwon closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms with a desperation that bordered on breaking. His grip was tight, as if he feared you might vanish again at any moment, but you held onto him just as fiercely, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if to reassure yourself that he was real—that this was real.

“The heavens couldn’t deny our love anymore,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “They heard my soul cry for yours and bestowed mercy on me.”

You buried your face against his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as you nodded. “I know. You moved the heavens with your resilience. The Queen Mother has looked upon us kindly because you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with relief. “I’ve thought of you every single day.”

Jungwon pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing away your tears as his own threatened to fall. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice raw. “Every night, I looked up at the stars and wished that you were here.”

You smiled through your tears, your hand gently cupping his cheek. “And every night, I looked down at those same stars, wishing I could be with you.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, content just to be in each other’s arms, to feel the warmth and the love that had carried you through the unbearable separation. The bridge of magpies shimmered beneath your feet, a beautiful, fragile reminder of the time you had together.

Jungwon leaned down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. “I love you,” he whispered, the words filled with all the longing, all the heartache, and all the devotion he had carried for you.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice soft but full of the same unbreakable love.

For the rest of that night, you and Jungwon stayed on that bridge, wrapped in each other’s arms, watching the stars together just like you used to watch the clouds. It didn’t matter that your time was fleeting, or that you would soon be separated again. In that moment, nothing could touch the love you shared.

And as dawn approached, when the magpies began to shift and the bridge started to fade, Jungwon held you close one last time, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering, tender kiss.

“Wait for me,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “I’ll wait for you again, every year, for the rest of eternity. We’ll always find each other.”

You nodded, your heart heavy but full of hope. “I’ll always find you,” you promised, your hand slipping from his as the magpies lifted you back toward the heavens.

As the bridge dissolved, leaving Jungwon standing beneath the stars once more, he looked up at the sky with a heart full of love, knowing that no matter how many years passed, you would meet again, even if only for a brief, beautiful moment.

And so, every year, Jungwon waited. He counted the days, knowing that no matter how long it took, no matter how far apart you were, the magpies would come. And when they did, you would be there, waiting for him. On that day, for just a moment, everything would be perfect again.

And even though your time together was brief, it was enough. Because love like yours—strong, eternal, and bound by something deeper than the stars themselves—was worth waiting for.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. a/n: i worked on this one last night when i was feeling particularly sappy for jungwon. it's based off the qixi festival. i hope you guys enjoyed it! ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!