#kitchen witch flag

[fantasy-store]

flags for witch paths batch1

left: Green Witch. a flag for witches who use earth, plants and greenery in their practice. includes earth and forest witches.

middle: hearth, home/cottage and kitchen witch. a flag for those who's practice focuses on uses around the home, the kitchen and so on.

right: hedge witch. a flag for those who's practice focuses on divination and spirituality.

these flags are solely for witches. you may request specific flags that more apply to your practice or combine the practices of other paths.

these are not to be used as fiction or regarded as such however you may take inspiration from them.

these paths are not definitive, everyone's practice is different and there are many more than what you may see online.

witchcraft is personal and diverse.

transx/transid and radqueers dont touch my shit thanks.

[id: a green to white gradient box with a gif of candles and witchcraft tools on a shelf in the background and dark green text on top of the image reading "dni if transx/transid, radqueer, terf. more in pinned post. free to use/identify so long as you respect my boundaries. exclusive terms/flags are non-debatable". :end id]

[butteryplanet]

kitchen ghosts

[teeth-coins-microlabels]

Kitchenwitchic

Kitchenwitchic

A gender related to the practice of being a kitchen witch. This may, or may not, be related to one or more of the following. Having a windowsill garden in your kitchen, making bread on a calm afternoon, wearing an apron with a sewn in sigil, cooking your intentions in your meals, setting a table for friends/family, and/or selecting herbs from your spice rack.

This gender isn't inherently aligned with any gender system, but may be aligned if someone using the gender wants it to be. :)

[ghouljams]

Hey ghoul! 💗 I hope your doing well.

I just wanted to ask if you have any headcanons about the Fae boys houses in the Fae wild. And how they travel to and back from them. Are their human homes just fronts/gates to there actual homes in the Fae world? What happens when they bring guests over? Is witch going to visit Price's house?

(your recent regency price fic has me feeling all types of ways. Thank you for keeping us feed throughout the holidays I love you!!)

I have so many headcanons on the boys houses... I have... I have so many... Lemme run through them.

Soap's house we've been to once before when Love stabbed Ghost. Much like Witch's house it's a traditional sort of cottage surrounded by other buildings. However unlike the sunshine and open air the Witch's house is bathed in, I imagine Soap's house is at the end of a narrow alley. The sort of alley you wander down when you're trying to find shelter from the rain, the sort of alley you'd never be able to find on a map, and yet here it is. You wander down it, your eyes searching the blank stone of the businesses on either side, the length of them seemingly stretching beyond the actual size of the buildings. They're only two or three floors tall but they seem to tower over you. Then just at the end of the alley is a little Tudor cottage, with flowers in the window boxes and smoke coming out of its chimney.

Inside it is rustic, a narrow stairway leads up to the gabled bedroom, and the living room is full of plush furniture, old nick-nacks, framed maps and flags, a few rough sketches are tacked to the wall, all in different styles and signed by different hands. The whole place feels stuffed full and well lived in. The threshold is strong, ancient, a house still lived in by the man that built it. The mid day sun always seems to be shining in through the windows, warming the place to that perfect nap temperature. I imagine a lot of wood elements and heritage furniture, less art than you'd think, and oddly the art that he does have is simple. From artists long long dead, and remembered only by Soap. Back when a single sketch could fill him for weeks. Old loves, before he grew bitter from their loss.

Gaz's house is the newest of the bunch. He has a flat in the city, something sleek and modern that makes Price's skin crawl. Or at least, it looks modern at first glance. The wood floors don't ring any alarm bells, though the grain is knotted and shifting, the slats seeming grow and spiral out from the center of the flat like rings from a tree. The windows certainly don't give anything away, they're normal glass, taking up the walls of the room and overlooking the city, never mind the greenery taking over his balcony and creeping up the side of the building. His walls, surely those are modern. They're just normal walls, painted with a deep green and strangely textured, like moss when you press your fingers to it, yet when you try to look closer it feels like normal wallpaper.

The kitchen then, that's modern. Sleek chrome appliances and marble countertops, a fridge stocked with bleeding meat and vegetables fresher than you could ever find at the store. Ivy winds its way around the top of the cabinets, spilling over the edge. You can't find the plant it comes from, but surely there must be a pot up there. His furniture is all wood, tasteful, classically designed with a modern twist. The pedestal his table rests on looks like the trunk of a tree, its branched spreading out to hold up the round glass top, its roots twisting into the floor. His bed seems to be growing out of the floor, the wood blooming up and cradling the pillowy mattress. His couches and chairs are a rich black leather. It all speaks to quiet luxury, and something pretending to be modern. A cuckoo in the nest, playing at being human.

Ghost's house feels like a memory. A wood cabin, grey stone lining the bottom of it, and snow weighing heavy on its gabled roof. Light flickers warmly in the windows, bare trees surround it, holding it close with loving branches dragged low by snow. There are footsteps in the snowy ground leading to the door, and smoke coming from the stone chimney. It's hazy, a place you're not meant to see from the outside, and yet it reminds you of a place you've never been before, a home you've only seen in pictures. When you open the front door the space is dark, cold, uninhabited for years, death drags its hands along the scarred floors, the scorches of flame have left their licks along the walls. It's not a place you want to stay, certainly nowhere like the warm light you'd seen outside would have prepared you for.

There are only four keys that open Ghost's door, closely guarded, heavy, and iron. Ghost, though, has no need for a key. It's his house, he can come and go as he pleases. In fact he doesn't even need to use the front door, any door will do. As long as he wills it Ghost only needs to twist the handle and pull, he'll open straight into his house. Ghost is a master at warping the world to suit his whims, practiced and grown from his need to control it. When he opens the door for you it's a completely different cabin. There's a fire burning in the fireplace, the lights flicker as shadows chase through them, the furniture is old and seems to have been reupholstered several times, but it's soft and you sink into the couch when you sit on it. Bookshelves line the walls, full of well worn spines and little trinkets. There's a little narrow staircase that takes you up to a bedroom. The bed, overflowing with quilts and pillows, is pressed close to the chimney for added warmth. The wood floors are covered in rugs, intricate and plush, and the whole place smells of smoke and pine.

You could spend weeks here, and never notice any time had passed. The world outside the windows is cold and frosty, perfect for curling up in bed. Ghost is a wonderful host. Why don't you stay a while? Sleep. Let him take your worries. What were you doing before this?

Oh right.

Price's home is my favorite. A giant oak in the middle of the forest, sturdy and fae. He tells you, proudly, that he grew it himself from an acorn. Inside the walls are round, the floors a neatly polished wood that you can count the rings of. Soft lamps dangle from the tall ceiling, with intricately soldered together glass, their light glows and dims with a wave of Price's hand. His kitchen curves along the wall, wooden of course, and yet he seems to have everything he could need. There's a large couch and television in the center of the room, an ashtray on the coffee table. Along one wall is a staircase leading to an upper floor.

When you follow it up you find a bedroom, you think it's a bedroom. There are window curving along the wall, bringing a soft twilight glow into the room, and casting shadows over the deep crater that sits back nearer the wall opposite the stairs. You go over to inspect it and find it full of pillows, blankets, a round pad you would almost call a mattress, there are steps leading up out of the nest-like bed. It looks perfectly comfortable, if a little hard to get out of. There are candles and books perched along the edge within easy reach. The stairs continue up, and under them are carved drawers, and doors, nooks and crannies for storage.

You go up another level to find the bathroom. Steamy and magical, you can't find piping for any of the taps but when you twist them on the water is perfectly warm. A large tub, an open shower, there's a small heart carved out of the steam on the mirror. You follow the stair up and out when you get too warm, and find yourself outside among the tree branches. You enjoy the crisp winter air just long enough to crave the house's warmth again. When you make your way back to the front door, Price twists the little dial next to the door and opens it on a different season.

You're booted into fall.

König's house is less of a house, and more of a den. The mouth of a cave greets you, the inside dark and cavernous. You hesitate outside until the monster slinks out to ask what you're doing. The trees of the forest bend down to listen to you explain that you're on a home tour. He shrugs and tells you to watch your head coming in as he ducks back inside. Despite the open entrance when you look back there's a warm wooden wall, and a large door with a shiny brass handle where the mouth of the cave should be. The door is curved along the top, mirroring the curve of the ceiling, impossibly tall as König rolls his shoulders back to stand at his full height. The inside of the cave is cozy, the stone walls covered in moss and furs, little glowing flowers and mushrooms shed a soft light over the room.

There are soft thick rugs along the floor, and pillows strewn about. There's no true furniture that you can see, everything is low to the ground but clearly made to comfortably accommodate König's size. There's a fire burning in a pit in the middle of the cave, the smoke filtering neatly out through a hole at the top of the ceiling. The whole room is warmed by it, the rock absorbing the heat so as not to chill your feet as you walk to inspect the a sort of room/nook carved into one of the walls. It's larger inside than the opening would suggest. A smaller cave carved into the bigger one, filled with furs and pillows, trinkets hang from the ceiling, and soft dancing fireflies float about. A sort of nest you could climb into and never climb out of.

You leave before König starts showing you the various bones and skulls he's collected.

Keegan's home is a clearing in the forest. The trees parted for the moon, the grass soft under your feet. Empty save for the spare wild flowers that push through the grass. He's not even there to show you around, he's at his angel's home with his family.

[pieroulette]

L♡VE $CAM – part 1

2023 | 18+ | 13K | ONESHOT × 3 PARTS | DARK ROMANCE TROPE

> short teaser <

With the fancy outer cover of the book being the prince saving his damsel in distress from the cruel, harsh world; it's only wise to assume that the inner pages consists of "happily ever after". However, rip the pages off and take off your rose-coloured glasses and see that the prince was never a prince, and the damsel in distress won't always be a damsel in distress.

GENRE slow burn romance, comedy, angst, character-driven story.

WARNING scammer! heeseung, prostitute! reader, reader is a bad bitch, prostitution, degradation, manipulation, red flags idk, Heeseung has a rotten view on women in general, messed up beliefs, and more to be updated on the next parts—also just in case, since it's slow burn don't expect any smut in PT 1 lol.

The little boy drew on the surface of his blooming world with the mighty sword within his fingers, swaying it up and around with a wide big grin on his face as a low volume of the sunshower emitting outside the huge glass window right beside him—the vibrance of the sun shone on his world, furthering the beauty before his very eyes. “Pretty, pretty!” he exclaimed in utter grin.

A tiny chime echoes through the house, coming from the doorbell itself.

He turned over his shoulder to greet his mother but was taken aback by the unusual sight; his mother carried a rather solemn aura, a stark contrast of how she used to everyday. That was one thing, however the perfect picture he had always been patient to wait for everyday was ruined by the empty hollow spot beside his mother.

His mother went to the kitchen, sitting quietly after she was done with pouring herself a cup of tea. It was different but little Heeseung stayed silent, fiddling his fingers as he also sat back to his usual spot—beside the couch, pencil colours brushing the white paper emitting through the disquiet atmosphere.

A fair hour had passed within a blink of an eye, yet his mother stayed in the same spot not budging even a inch resembling a lifeless doll. It brought an uneasiness in the little boy, searching for a way to soothe such an atmosphere yet he doesn’t how. How?

His round, joy-filled eyes beamed upon a thought—picking his mighty sword back to his little fingers and started to adorn a new piece of canvas with little doodles.

“Mom! Look.. what I draw!”

A huge castle stood brave, strong and still on the hard soil ground. It carries this prestigious aura looming yet the beautiful lawns were decorated with brightly coloured and blooming flowers—yielding a perfect mixture of a strong home yet warm and gentle or more so like a pair of arms wrapped around you—strong and gentle. Peeking through the open windows with the tied up curtains flowing gracefully, through the plumpy soft bed; a princess sat in her big, giant castle all alone by herself in hopes for her prince to come and save her from the witch caging her inside that place. But to her surprise, an armour came into view standing before her eyes as she slowly looked up to the wearer; a gentle smile adorning his lips—a warrior came for her instead. It was as if the canvas came to life. Their feet begin to gently rise, fall, spin, and halt—and the whole process repeats again.

Flipping through the pages, surfaces the image of the princess grabbing the warrior's extended palms. Little Heeseung was ecstatic observing his mother, his little fingers clutching on their own along with the colours popping up on the princess' dress. Little did he know, the colours weren't doing its wonders in the reflection of his mother’s orbs.

Hollow, hollow it was.

“This is mom and dad!” the little boy explained.

His mother sighed through his nose before looking up. "Heeseung-ah. ." He didn't hear much of it or rather his surroundings was consumed by the rain overthrowing the sunny clouds—to him, mother’s voice being submerged in the growing ocean.

It was suffocating despite the fact he didn't know what was suffocating, he just couldn't reach for the air even though the air was there. What was mom saying? He forgot though, like the child he was as the next day came and he continued his next piece of drawing. Still wondering where his father was as another spiral loop of forgetfulness consumes the little boy as soon as he gets back to his new piece of drawing to show to his mother—in hopes that such expression won't surface on her face again.

His mother would never say a word of compliment yet she would turn the drawings he gave into a wooden frame—hanging it on the yellow wall of their living room. A silent love. Soon the walls were adorned with many, many frames—each consisting of mundane yet simple days of the princess and warrior’s together; the princess and the warrior eating together for dinner. Next day, a drawing of the princess's hair being brushed by the warrior. Next day, the warrior brought a pet fish for the princess and together they raised it.

How long has it been? Has it been a week? A month, or a year? Today's dinner was lacking. The plates once had a big fish on the plate yet today it is smaller in size and has a lesser portion of rice. He stayed silent though, maybe today was just a different case.

“Mom, when’s dad going to be back home?” His question was met with silence yet notices the brief pause of his mother from taking the spoonful of rice—she stretched out her hand to rub the boy’s little ones.

“Soon.” a reassuring smile surfaces amidst the solemn dining room.

Only a bowl of soup. Next day, there's only a small portion of food and it was only him who was eating, his mother was just sitting with him urging him to eat. Why? What's happening?

Today, he was starving but still had the same beaming energy to finish his drawing before the clock strikes, signifying his mother's return.

A soft chime echoes.

Bringing his piece of canvas to show to his mother with happiness, though it ceased to exist when not only did his mother appear—the empty spot beside her was consumed by an unfamiliar face. Tall, big and burly. Was that his dad?

“D-dad?”

"This, your kid?" little Heeseung twitched against the deep voice, not at all the gentle voice he remembered. This wasn’t his dad. How many months had it passed without the familiar presence he’d been yearning for?

An abashed laugh emits from his mother as her hand brushes the man's arm, "Don't mind the boy, he won't disturb us."

"Hm, boy. Why don't you go outside and have fun with your friends then?"

"I don't have friends.”

Little Heeseung stood still as he observed the enclosed white patterned door—the door in which his mother went in through with that man—a room he still remembers his father going in through once before. The boy’s attention fell upon the pit patter of rain falling outside.

Sun rose up in the sky, the door pushed open as he waited for his mother per his usual routine—he was met with the sight of his mother being with a man again, however this time it was a different face. Next day, next day, next day. Different days, different faces, yet it was vivid in his mind—the pale dusty green paper that all the men placed on his mother’s hand.

Till the day of his 15th birthday, a big fat expensive cake was presented before him on the table. Balloons, and cards of heartfelt wishes were splattered all over the table along with presents. Behind him, there stood the yellow painted wall adorned with numerous frames—a stark contrast of what was before him—an unfamiliar face on the end of the table, whose arms were tangled in his mother's.

Disgusting.

Heeseung saw nothing but red as he grabbed the guy's arm, twisting it and bending it so hard to the point he's screaming.

"S-stop! I beg of you! Please stop!" your desperate voice had him frozen for a second. Pathetic, fragile, weak, and petite. You were all those words.

A woman in a sly attire appeared with her arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in a way that she finds the entire commotion amusing, her voice heightening sparks a stark contrast from her sultry face. “What in the actual fuck is happening here?!”

Everyone halted at once, snapping their heads to the woman.

Heeseung observed from his side eye as you stuttered, being unable to form coherent words, patted your back in hopes to soothe you.

"Hm, who are you?" a question directed to Heeseung himself yet before he could answer—came out the cries of pain from the men themselves. "I bought her with my fucking money and say, why don't you tell it to this bastard, that girl—" he pointed at you with eyes shot wide open in rage, "She belongs to me now."

The woman didn’t have to hear the entire news to understand the weight of the situation before her; the battered, ragged form of the men and your shuddered form in a tall dashing man whose arms were wrapped around you, rubbing you as if you were his lover, despite the obvious trickles of blood seeping out from his cheeks—amused she was as she can't suppress her stifle laugh.

"Ah, ah. How amusing. I didn't know our dear (Name) would have a fair bunch of guys lusting after her isn't it?" she glances at you, “The name’s Yunjin in case you’re curious. We’ll have to settle this in a humane way, everyone.”

"So fucking what now?" The men spat out.

The woman spinned around her heels, motioning for you all to follow her as she let out an audible chuckle, fingers beneath her chin. "What else could be the perfect way than solving it with extra money?"

A huge manor stood tall and firm on the hard ground almost resembling of that a castle yet the overall vibe; the dusty grey walls, splattered dark stains on the pillars and corners of each wall, the extravagant colourful lights flickering around the board hanging on the main entrance— truly living up to its name—a brothel fitting for such a situation— dark windows with some of them left open for cool breeze to flow in through, several women ranging from all sorts of age had their backs leaning against the grey cold wall with their hands stretched out as if to lure men into their respective quarters—those that smells old reeking money and insatiable lust.

It was Heeseung's first time to ever be in such a place but the smell, the thick perfume, bold powders, the disgusting lewd sounds echoing throughout the space, the alcohol, women throwing themselves upon other men and so on — was all too familiar. A long, deep aisle stretched out before them which led them to another hallway with closed doors on either side—private quarters that were obvious for a reason.

They went through a vast room with its ceiling high up in the air, resembling of what seems like a ballroom yet engulfed in the same vibe as the main entrance–there stood a woman in black exquisite attire yet contrary to Yunjin, her attire was somewhat modest.

"Hm? What brings you back here again, darling?" Heeseung noticed the question was no one but for you whose heads were hanging down the entire time.

Yunjin leans closer into her ear—the woman gasped in a somewhat exaggerated manner, "Ah, ah. Then what's your name, child?"

"Lee Heeseung."

"Then may I ask why do you have to stick your nose in someone's business? I do not see where you have to do such a disrespectful thing."

“I just can’t bear to see them touch her like that.”

"So you want her?" A smirk grow on the woman's lips.

"Yes."

"But I already fucking bought her!—"

She raised her hand instantly, motioning for them to stay silent.

"Oh dear, did I hear that right? Don't you think it's a waste of money to buy a used product? They already bought her with their money. Besides, we had other girls you might find more interesting than (Name)."

"I don't care. I'll bring her with me, tell me how much they paid for her and I'll double the amount." Heeseung repeated. "Just tell me how much you want."

"Perfect." The woman's dark red lips tugged up in the slightest grin. "5,000 won. They paid 5,000 won. How much can you bargain, dear?"

"Make it 7,000 won then." a series of gasps followed.

"Fuck as if I'll let you," the man bares his teeth, "9,000 won."

"10,000 won."

"15,000 won!"

"18,000."

The commotion had the entire people round the space with eyes ogling at the never-ending uprising price.

"This is the last one, 65,000 won!"

"150,000 won." Heeseung looks at the man with contempt, “If you aren’t still satisfied then i’ll give you 500,000 won and an additional 20,000 more if you leave us the fuck alone.”

“Fuck, I wonder what you see in her.” Yunjin covered her eat-shitting grin with her hand, seemingly pleased by the entire situation.

"THE FUCK?!" downright shock etched all over their face, unable to believe the ogling amount spread before their eyes.

"So? Can I take her with me?" Heeseung asked with one eyebrow raised, as if the 6 digits weren’t a tad bit of a hassle for him.

"Sweet, it's a deal then." The woman answered, "However I prefer cash instead of a meaningless piece of card. You do know how this little organisation of ours works, right?"

A brief pause had Heeseung in a thought, looking down he did before answering, "Fine."

"Perfect, perfect! Look, the time is fairly 3:06pm. Make sure to bring it by 5pm or else we can't guarantee she would still be here. Time equals money, dear sir."

Heeseung spun his heels to face you with eyes trying to comfort you, closing the distance between you as he spoke, "I'll be back, wait for me."

You nodded, blinking in uneasiness. "P-please.."

With that, Heeseung went off. His form disappearing into the sea of crowds. Your eyes glued to the distance, wondering if he'll do as he promised.

"Wait— you can't be serious?! How about my fucking money??" The men won't shut up since then.

"There's still plenty of beauties residing in these quarters, gentlemen. Consider checking some, who knows you might have a change of heart?"

"I don't fucking care. I want her." The man pointed at you with bare teeth.

"If you still don't understand—what we have here is nothing but a business, sir. Whoever pays the highest amount of money shall get whichever and how many maiden they please to— and you obviously don’t have one."

"Do I look like I give a shit?!-"

BONK!

“Agh! Agh! Yunjin stop!”

Sighing through her nose, “Quit it will you? You’re becoming too invested in your roles for fuck’s sake, Jake.”

“We can’t help it, duh.” Jake puffed, then turned to face you in beaming eyes. “Madame! We did good right?! We could get an Oscar for this, fuck they should hire us.”

You gave him a thumbs up before looking out from the door once again and that simple gesture of yours brought a big smile on Jake's face and on the others—they bow with an immense respect for you before leaving.

“Yunjin! You could hire us to act for you next time then!—"

"Bish— for what?"

Hm? Would he come or not?

Twirling your hair round the tips of your fingers as you leaned against the doorframe, observing the sea of crowds waiting for that particular stranger. Would your plan fail or work? One, two, step forward, step backward you did as you spun around on the centre of the manor, your battered brown skirt flowing in a circular motion as your hands stretched wide open.

Would he come? You couldn’t care a bit less as you still had a fair line of men waiting to kneel before you.

Dawn painted over the once blue sky, replacing the feathery snow clouds with gold-veined ones. Sea of neon lights flickers through the stretched out line of the town—a low volume of flamboyant music spirals along with human’s desire to hide in this town—a shelter where humans shed off their outer layer of skin.

The woman in black attire approaches from behind you, “Madame, he’s here.”

“Hm?” fingers beneath your lower lip as the corners tugged up to kiss your growing smirk. Well, he had dug his own grave with his own hands. How pathetic. Meeting his dreamy eyes fixated on your form, replacing your bold fingers to fiddle the hem of your sleeves, looking down to avoid his intense ones.

You didn't expect it a tad bit that's why it gave you a fair surprise when he came in through the main entrance, his tall frame and dashing aura, with a suitcase in his tight grasp. Was he that enamoured by you? Who knows? There's still a fair amount of time to confirm such suspicions as much as you're compelled to believe it, after all you don't need him to like you—you need him to fall in love with you till he's willing to surrender his body, his soul, his heart and most importantly—his money.

“I told you I’ll come back.”

“H-ha, sir! Thank you for saving me.” Your soft ones hold onto his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. Your eyes hold utmost sincerity in it, gasping when he looks back at you with his intense ones. You gulped your throat, "Thank you for saving me. I'm really .. bad at this, I really don't know how I can repay you."

Meticulous planned lies, the same lies you uttered to people or to be exact, men — those with ogling eyes laced with lusts, hands dying to grab a woman's body, lips that won't wait for an immediate contact. Playboys, old men, nerds, boys next door, those that held an angelic appearance—you played them all. How embarrassing. This man before you was no different, he'll be at your mercy sooner and later. Likewise, a fair amount of time should be wise to take this seemingly gentleman down to his demise.

You observed as Heeseung's eyes softened against your nervous acts—almost wanted to melt before your quivering, fragile form; head hanging down, your hands trembling against his fingers as you tugged it. Of course, you'd spent years refining such petty acts designed to make men fall for it.

An audible chuckle akin to an angel's whisper, feathery and gentle hits your ears. "I'm only doing what is right to do."

"B-but why me?" You asked, "The-there's plenty of other girls inside. Why don't you save them too?"

Heeseung wondered how dense you could be to ask such a folly question, but suppressed the need to voice it out. "I’m afraid my wallet will turn dry in doing so."

Your expression screams ignorance and naivety.

Well, does he even need to wonder with your overalls? Yet, it was your fragile form that had him wanting to save you. Probably. In fact, that wasn't the only reason. “Don’t worry, someday someone will save them too.” or perhaps never, Heeseung thought to himself.

“M-may I know what’s your?..”

“Oh shit, I forgot to introduce myself didn’t I? Heeseung, Lee Heeseung. What’s yours?”

"Sr. Heeseung?.." you repeated his name under your breath—silence, silence it was that you forgot to answer back.

"H-Hey?"

"Oh? Uhm yes?" You pressed your lips in a tight manner.

"Care to give me your name?"

"(Name).."

"Pretty name, I wonder how did you even get to a place like that? It doesn't look like you're a local around here, anyways."

You look down, and he notices you fiddling your fingers between the hem of your dirty old skirt.

"It's okay, you don't have to answer."

"I was sold off."

"Oh. Thats— that's fucked up." Heeseung exhales, looking up to the sky before taking your hands in his, much to your surprise, “You don’t have to be scared anymore, you’re safe with me.”

Safe.. huh?

“W-where are we going? Sir?”

“I don’t have any idea yet but for now let’s go back to my apartment.”

You pursed your lips in a nervous manner.

A gentle giggle emits from the man, “Don’t worry, I can’t possibly let you live on the street, though.”

The conversation eventually died down as the cascading silence engulfed the entire space—silent yet serene it was with the dense greeny forests coming into view, the road filled with sorts of vehicles surfaced, the beaming green light alarming the drivers to go in through to all sorts of directions, the passing yellow vehicle with children in their little hops spilling out as an old woman guided them to a straight line, the low volume of cafes and speakers were emitting from afar, the lovely scene of the sun setting from the surface of the sky as it's deep orange hues painted the street the road, and a few minutes later a tall high buildings finally came into view.

You looked out from the window feigning amazement with your mouth hanging apart much to Heeseung’s amusement as he pulled up the car in the parking spot and a security guard approached to check his ID.

“Come.” he reached out his hands for you to take as you stepped off from the car. “This is where I stay.”

“Woah.” you exclaimed as you observed this luxury high-end apartment.

Heeseung taps a series of digits through the door’s handle—sadly, you were getting tired feigning fascination over the entire course, suppressing the need to roll your eyes when he guided you inside his apartment.

"That— That's so amazing!" your mouth gaped. “I-i’m sorry, it’s my first time.. My place is so deep in the village. I don't always have the chance to go out, it was a chance that only lucky ones had."

Heeseung couldn't suppress his chuckle, eyes crinkling in obvious amusement. "There’s no need to say sorry, I could understand why. In fact, I couldn’t guarantee I won't act the same way as you."

You gazed at all the expensive furniture, almost brushing your finger against the decorations on top of it before halting immediately.

Heeseung noticed your hesitance, "Don't worry, you can touch it."

Your eyes sparkled at his given permission and you immediately stroked your finger against the cold and exquisite material of the object, marvelling at its meticulous patterns — a masterpiece of a craftsman.

"Got a thing for this type of stuffs?"

"Hm. . Yes." You nodded somewhat ecstatic. “It’s so pretty..”

Heeseung went inside his room, pulling out a piece of shirt and pants that surely would look oversized on you—apologising in advance as he placed it on your shivering ones, "This might look big on you but I promise we'll get some for you tomorrow."

Eyes widening in fractions, you shook your head as you pulled your hands up. "T-there's no need to! you've already d-done so much for me, I.. really don't know where to keep my face already."

An audible chuckle escapes from his lips, looking down in mild amusement. "You're so adorable."

"Eh?!" you gasped.

"I mean?—"

A loud ring emits up in the air, interrupting him much to his annoyance. “I’ll take this phone first, just take a look around okay?”

You nodded in an ecstatic manner, observing his back as he disappeared into the corners of the walls. A low sigh, eyes darting around the space—softened ones growing into a menacing gaze.

In this vast spacious living room—that interior was somewhat really baffling for you. It wasn't your first time to be in such a place, even more so the place you've been in before was much bigger, marvellous and higher in status than this one.

Not that it matters now anyways.

With your expression growing disinterested in each passing second, you sighed dejectly as you halted your steps before a painting. He must have bought this a few years ago, what a great taste.

But too bad, too unfortunate — stroking the painting slowly at a delicate pace, he won't have much money in his pockets to buy anything like this anymore.

Crossing your arms as you tilted your head to one of the drawers, being aware of any hidden devices inside the apartment — you scanned the place and as expected, there's none. Truly, your experience in that place has given you a fair skill with a fair price.

Your eyes fell on an open box of a luxury watch inside it, holding the need it in between your fingers, scoffing that you'll have to take it slow and nice before even proceeding with your first move. Frightened that he might be suspicious of you real quick and you can't risk that.

Patience, patience.

Patience, patience.

After all, a human being's demise is his own impatience, an inability to bring into one's composure is an approaching deathbell.

“I told you we’re done, there’s no need to consider anything further.” Heeseung bares his teeth with the phone beneath his ears, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance despite how he tried to make his voice as civil as possible. “Fine then, one last meeting to settle everything.” hanging up, he lets out a long deep sigh before turning to the direction from where you’re from—the corners of his faint cherry lips slowly tugging up in a mischievous smirk.

“Why is there a need when I have you right here wrapped round the tip of my finger?” says Heeseung as he walks back to where you are in a leisure manner, head tilting down and eyes gleaming in sinister plans.

Baffling it was, as always, his tricks often worked. "(Name), was it?" Your name tasted sweet in his lips, on the tip of his tongue, and like that his cherry lips tugged up in a mischievous grin and his eyes squinting in amusement.

Getting the money was no hard task for him for it was years worth of cultivated money, obviously from the girls he had fooled.

He went through all that trouble only because he was fascinated by your naivety, different from most girls he fooled or encountered. You were so dumb and absolutely untainted from the dirty stains of this world that he wanted to be the first person to show you the true colours of it. Bored of the same patterns and criterions of his previous victims, he desired for a whole new different toy and it just happened when his eyes laid on you.

The moment he sees you in that pathetic form of yours, the desire to completely ruin you arises inside the depths of his rotten heart. It grows even more when the head of the brothel confirms your innocence, the fact that you were only sold up until a few days ago, that it was today you were bought. You reminded him so much of a particular someone.

He himself was never that prince nor warrior everyone wanted to be. He's fed up, fed up of being thought of as one, fed up with the way all these girls lust after him and nevertheless he still took bliss in it. Always wrecking their dreams apart and shattering it because he likes to see it. No, he just doesn’t like it. He completely loves it.

Ah, what a sweet luck he got to be bestowed with another toy to play with, another pretty toy to rip apart and show to her that the world isn't as pretty nor as colourful as she wishes to.

He's bored. He had a lot of bucks inside his pockets, a result of his scamming people or ladies to be exact, he needed something to toy around with for awhile. And you happen to be his perfect toy; an innocent lady with a fairy tale dream for this world. Heeseung doesn't think he's so evil for showing you the real canvas of this disgusting world, after all he's doing you a favour.

"Thank you for saving me?" Heeseung scoffed in amusement, "You'll thank me later."

Lies, lies, what could be more sinister than a bunch of lies woven together in a disguised form of your favourite fairy tale books?

“Hey.” The way your eyes shot up, rosy cheeks and trembling lips had him almost baffled but suppressed his grin from growing any further. It was only a few minutes that he left you here and yet he already fucking missed it, excited to his core to start his plans in ruining you but he should take it slow, he thought. For where is the fun of rushing? “So- how was it? Got any paintings that caught your sight?’

“H-hmm! They’re all particularly nice. I couldn't choose.” your head hangs down avoiding his gaze.

“I guess I can take that as a compliment then?” Heeseung smiles down at you, his hand finding its way to rub your arm as if to comfort you. “Hey, it’s okay. Wanna grab something to eat?” he said as he extended his hand out for you.

You were so painfully shy, cheeks burning red, eyes looking down to avoid his gaze, your fingers tucking your hair behind your ear every now and then, your wavering form as you can't keep your feet from shivering ever so slightly, hands interlaced in front of your tummy as if to give yourself a slight comfort. Every expression surfacing from your face is ruining Heeseung's patience that he wanted to just ruin you right now.

Taking his hand once again as you look into his eyes, not surprised that he’s going this far for this fake innocent persona you had on you. Afterall, this persona was a bait meticulously curated for such a person. Turning his back around you and a disinterested look splattered on your face—rolling your eyes up to the ceiling and eyebrows pulling up. His back holding the expression that mirrors yours as he guided you to the dining room.

Eyes that held fake affection, lips that sang flattering lies, touches that screams absolute affection and yet the heart and mind conspires in each others' demise. You two were well trained in this department, after all.

'I wonder how many days it would take to ruin you?'

“Oh shit.” Heeseung hissed after pulling the fridge’s door open, his back bent down as his head pushed inside searching for anything before fixing his posture upright.

You raised your eyebrow. “Is there–?”

He spun around brushing the back of his neck in an abashed manner, letting out an awkward laugh. “Sorry, I think I forgot to fill up my fridge.. My work had really put me through and through..” a lie, Heeseung snickered inside.

Your hands immediately shoot up as you shake your head, laughing. “It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m not that hungry anyways.. —It-it’s fine! Sir, you’ve really done so much in letting me stay the night here.”

“Uh..” Heeseung looks up to his cupboard and a bright smile adorns his face, “Would you mind a bowl of ramen then? Have you eaten it?”

Dripping raindrops hit the tall window before the dining room, gliding through and through till it hits the edges. The mixture of rain and the aroma of the boiling ramen was weirdly comforting. You rubbed your hands, pulling down your sleeves to cover your fingers.

“Here!” you turned to Heeseung as he placed the bowl of hot ramen before you, the spoon and a pair of chopsticks on both your sides. He then took his seat after placing his as well.

You took a brief sniff, eyes lighting up. “It smells so good!” taking a spoonful of soup and the twirled ramen on the tips of your chopstick onto your tongue. “The ramen tastes so good!” you exclaimed as radiant as ever. It did taste good, you thought.

“Right? Ramen is the only food I've been eating these days.” Heeseung smiled, “It’s my favourite too.”

“Isn’t th-that somewhat unhealthy?”

“Hm? It’s fine though, why bother to cook so much if you only eat alone, right?”

"I can see w-why.." you took another small sip from your spoon, indulging yourself in this tasty ramen.

Palms of his hands beneath his chin as his sparkling eyes observed you as you eat, he couldn’t help but find you endearing though. Endearing you were, as if you were going to break if you were given a cold harsh glare or a one touch would make you crumble apart in fear. How sweet, he thought—but how grateful could he be to be given such a entertaining sight—a toy—to play with and mess its contents onto the floor?

You almost choke on your food when you notice his eyes on you, wiping the corners of your mouth with the napkin from the table.

Heeseung eyes softened and muttered a small apology, telling you that it was just a tiny habit of his to observe someone while they eat or do something, that it was just.. “It’s just endearing to watch.”

Fuck. Such a cheesy line. You muttered within yourself. A coherent sentence a fool would only believe. Keeping the gentle smile on your lips as you kept on your shy demeanour. Son of a bitch thought he could fool me, you muttered on the back of your head as you smiled at him as you took a brief sip from the glass.

Heeseung had arranged the guest room for you before going off and telling you a simple goodnight much to your hidden displeasure and yet you kept the abashed smile on your face as it was simply your job afterall—to fool the living shit out of him and dig his cascading sea of money.

Through the mind of Heeseung however,

It won't take much time to make you succumb to him but he prefers to keep it slow, because where's the fun in revealing everything so quick? He wanted to see you rot in his touch, observe your innocence crumbles before his hands, fucked up expressions over your sweet dumb face, your trembling body writhing under his. Slow, fucking slow till he gets inside deep inside you.

His own personal toy, an ill-thought with a stark contrast over his gentle caress over your hair and cheek.

You weren’t asleep apparently, wondering if he’s about to do his first move but it gave you a mild surprise when the side of the bed was empty, the doors were closed and this bizarre serenity engulfing this room baffles you at most. You sighed through your nose, going through all your plans for tomorrow. Another day, another day.

Morning breathes its way through the sky once again. 8 o’clock strikes. Birds chirping in their own unique melody.

Today was the first morning. The first step of your plans in making the boy fall for you even harder than yesterday, you thought so as you stretched your arms upwards, pulling off the blankets from your body before standing up, looking around until you saw a sticky note on the table.

I’m out for groceries, i’ll be back before dawn. So don’t worry and make yourself feel like you’re home :) — Heeseung.

G-groceries? Your eyes twitched in annoyance as he would have woken you up and you’d had the chance to form a closer bond with him and yet he chose to do this? Fuck. Puffing in annoyance, you instead inspected the entire apartment.

“Home?” you inhaled the fresh scent engulfing the living room however the word tastes bitter on the tip of your tongue, though. You went around checking one and each of his belongings and to your surprise, there wasn’t that much of his things inside his room. It was fairly empty consisting of only the bed with blue sheets, and a few minor stuff. It was as if he didn't really live in this place.

As if his claims of living in this place since last year were mere lies. Weird, you thought.

Orange sunset poured over the blue rooftop. A soft chime, door creaking and faint sound of heels approaching. Ruffling his hair, there Heeseung came back in his casual fit, holding a bunch of plastic bags in his hands. His eyes fell upon your figure laying on the couch sound asleep with the TV turn on. The screen shone on the edges of your face.

You were truly a breathtaking sight as he watched you sleeping peacefully just like the precious and well taken care of you are.

He went to the kitchen, arranging the groceries he brought; one by one, to their respective categories; eggs, vegetables, meat, fish, beverages. This was the first time in awhile since he filled up the refrigerator, and even more so he couldn't help but chuckle over how insane he was for going this far — to the point he would treat you so well and good and then crush it sooner and later. Yet he couldn’t be bothered to cook for today as he wanted to test how far you were in your gullibility—lips tugged up in a small smirk as he separated the dishes he bought and placed them on the plate.

Eyes fluttering open at the sound of running water, you look over your shoulder to see him, preparing dinner. Train of memories flashes through your mind which had splattered a deep frown on your face.

"(Name)! Come here! C'mon, taste the food I made."

"Does it taste good?"

"Stop it! (Name)! Look, your lips are messy now. Cute."

Huh. What a bummer. Empty, hollow gaze quickly replaced with a beaming expression as your lips tugged up in a small grin, getting up on your feet as you strode off to the dining room to look at the dishes on the counter.

"Wah!" you sniffed in the dishes, “It smells so good.”

A low chuckle emitted from him, "Not that good, just learned it by myself. After all, I lived alone so it's only wise to learn some little life skills."

"It's still amazing.. Not all are can cook this good." you bit your lip. “Next time, c-can you let me accompany you outside for groceries, if you allow me that is.”

Heeseung looks down at you, your head hanging low makes him wonder if you’re really this painfully shy without him.

“Then let’s get you new boots and fits before we go out for groceries tomorrow.”

"R-really?"

Looking out from the window, today’s weather was calming to say the least. Placing the dishes on the table, you two sat together for dinner.

“Sr. Heeseung. Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a therapist.”

“Ha, I-i see..” you nodded.

“It’s a draining career, do you know my patient often racks up all the stuff after a meeting?” You feign laughter.

“How about you? What did you do before you happened to be in that place?” Heeseung asked.

Paused in mild surprise, you chuckled in an awkward manner. “I-I’m an artist.”

Munching the food in his mouth to pieces, his eyes widened slightly at your response, “Woah, an artist? That’s cool! What do you draw? Portraits? Animals?”

“Mostly portraits.” you answered, looking down to your plate. “If you want, I can draw a portrait of you, sir.”

“I would love to, but..” Heeseung pauses, lowering his spoon down to his plate. “Before that, it’s better to drop off the formals, you know? You no longer have to call me sir. Just call me Heeseung, after all we're the same age, aren’t we?”

“I-I don’t know if I can do that, sir—”

“C’mon just call me by my name.” he whined like a child.

“H-hee..”

His intense orbs looking into yours, as if hypnotising you even further. “I can’t hear you.” pouting, he pulls you closer.

“H-heeseung?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Louder.”

You had this growing smirk inside you as you could sense the atmosphere growing thicker and the tension between you was turning into a whole new different vibe—your plan doing its wonders. Closer, closer, you wanted him to get close to you.

“-Heeseung.”

“Good, try again!”

“Heeseung.” you repeated.

“Good girl,” immense satisfaction adorned his lips as he leaned in closer to your ears which made you close your eyes yet only his hand patting your head softly were what you felt before he pulled away, piling up the empty plates on the table.

Your eyebrow raises in confusion “Huh?” why didn’t he?-

“Sir— no, H-heeseung.. Why?” you couldn’t help but stutter at the bizarre outcome.

“Why? You should go back to rest soon, don’t worry I’ll do the dishes this time.”

A visible vein pops up in your neck in utter disbelief before you tugged his sleeves. “I-i..”

“Hm? Is there something wrong?”

Tightening your grip on the hem of his sleeve, you looked up with glassy eyes. “I–.. I don’t wanna sleep yet.”

“Oh, really?” Heeseung brushes his finger against your cheeks. “Alright.”

“Teng! You’re out!”

The fuck? Your eyes twitched at the barrage of chaos before you; the formed lego Thor’s hammer after year's worth of blood, sweat and tears—boards of puzzles with its pieces scattered on the floor, and the man himself pulling out a wooden block out from this piled wooden blocks on top of each other.

T-the fuck we playing Jenga for?! Your eyes widened immense disbelief.

“S-sir—”

“It’s your turn!” faint claps emitting from the friction of his palms as he beamed at you, acting like an almost different man from a few hours ago. Trying your best to keep your disguise up as you pulled out the wooden block carefully, muttering a thousand curses to yourself—this wasn’t your fucking plan.

Sniffing a huge deal of air, you reassured yourself. It’s okay, it’s okay. We still have tomorrow—

“AH! IT FELL! THE LEGO (NAME)!”

Third day. Beaming sun hiding behind the gold veined clouds, painted sea sky with tall high buildings intertwined with its glory peeking from your curtained windows. Yet as serene as it looks, you were pissed. You were consumed with utter impatience. Dried eyes gazing at the ceiling, poking your tongue inside your cheek in attempts to soothe yourself from your short temper tendencies.

That guy should’ve been snuck in between your legs by now, not play silly stupid children games till 4am in the morning. It has never happened this way before. What is he trying to plan, huh? You raised your eyebrow gathering a new wave of determination. Today he’ll succumb to your temptation afterall.

You went to the living room after freshening up, taken aback by the man standing still in the living room—wearing office attire or more something between that.

"You had work?.."

"Oh yes, I do. Got a few clients to attend to." you observed as Heeseung meticulously puts on his tie around his collar, “I’m sorry, I know I promise we’re going out to get your boots but tomorrow okay?”

Fuck what? He’s going to work .. today?! You snapped your head to the open calendar on top of the table, your eyes twitching yet softened in a swift manner when you looked up to him. “Y-you don’t have to apologise, Sr. Heeseung.”

He looks at you with concern. "Are you sure you can stay here?"

"I already appreciate it enough that you trusted me enough to let me stay here. Thank you."

Accompanying him through the door, you observed as he put on his leather shoes and at him; slicked back hair, white shirt with dotted blue tie and the black coat hanging on his arms paired with the black pants. Tall frame, dreamy eyes and faint cherry lips—a totally different image from yesterday, you snickered in the back of your head.

“By the way..”

Pulled away from your deep thought, “H-hm?”

“Uh, sorry for yesterday too. I might’ve gone overboard with those games that you didn’t get a good night's rest.” he pursed his lips in an abashed manner.

Taken aback, you shook your head. “I enjoyed it! It was fun, and nice. I— I’ve never had anyone to play with before so it’s a first time for me..” you looked down, “Thank you for that.”

Gentle caresses of his hand against your cheeks had your eyes widened, “I’m glad to hear that then.” his lips tugged up ever so slightly, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Wait for me to come back home, okay?”

Letting out a deep, long, dejected sigh that consumes the entire living room as you put your hands on your sides, looking down in immense of what the fuck. “Who cares for those useless boots anyways, when I got your feisty watches over here?” smirking as you did so, grabbing each and one of his precious items that you could sell later for good use.

Knock! Knock!

“Huh? Is he already back?” you furrowed your eyebrows at the entrance of the apartment before taking small steps and slowly opening it.

Heeseung grabbed ahold of his coat and threw it in his car as he drove off to the city, striding along the street till he stopped by in front of a luxury high end restaurant. Elite and expensive. People with high social status spilling in and out from this place.

Brushing his slicked back hair as he puts on his usual gentleman persona, the main entrance opened for him.

"Heeseung-ah! God, where the fuck have you been? Why aren't you answering my calls?!"

The voice was enough to make him roll his eyes to the back of his head but he suppressed the need to do so as he wanted to end this as effortless as he can and as trouble-free as it can be.

"WHAT?!" the cup stumbles upon the hard slam of the girl's hand to the table, "Did I hear you right? You want to break up with me?! Gaeul? Me?"

Heeseung sighed as he wiped the edges of his lips with a wet wipe, "Yes you did. Let’s break up."

"No but why?! Our relationship was so good all this time, didn't our last date go well? So why?—"

"We don't click, Ms. Gaeul. That's all. It would be better if we end it now and just try to become good friends instead."

"H-huh?" Gaeul scoffed irritably, "After all the things I've done for you? Okay, fuck. Then give me the Rolex watch, the Gucci fucking handbag, the LV and Nike shoes—"

"Okay sure."

"Fucking what?!" Gaeul couldn't believe it, "Just what had happened to you?! Why are you so adamant in leaving me? Did you have a girl or something? Heeseung!"

A soft yawn escaped from the young man as his gaze travelled all around the patterned designs of the restaurant, how beautiful.

"Lee Heeseung!"

"Oh god, Gaeul. Do you have to embarrass yourself even further? I thought you're better than that." Heeseung couldn't help but be baffled, it's not like he's so die hard for money, even so he only did all these for pure joy. Money, women, games. All of it was a game.

Death silence consumes the two of them as a series of hiss emitted from the blonde haired girl.

"Fuck, it's not like you're the only man I got. You—" Gaeul pointed at him as her jaw gritted, "I had a lot more men lining up for me, you're not the only one."

"Then I'm happy to hear that, Ms. Gaeul."

Gaeul leans back, sniffing through her nose in attempts to cool herself down. "Still, I had a party next week. My father will be over, you're invited—"

"I don't think I can come to the party." Heeseung got up on his feet. "We are only friends right now, Ms. Gaeul-ssi."

"Fuck don't worry, will you?" Gaeul tilted her head, ruffling her blonde hair, "Bring your girl or whatever you can think of, I'll bring my man. How about we see whether we're over or not, Heeseung?"

A game. How sweet. Heeseung loves the thrill of being challenged. So why not?

"Sure, why not?"

An audible groan emitted from the young man when as soon he went back inside his exquisite car, his phone rang vigorously in his pockets. His eyebrows furrowed upon a suspicious number. "Yes, who's this?" A long deep pause, in which suddenly Heeseung's eyes widened along with furrowed eyebrows. “What?!”

“Sr. Heeseung!”

“(Name), what happened?”

“I– i’m so-sorry,” you sniffed uncontrollably, “Th-they were barging and all and I couldn’t help b-but..”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, explain it to me properly so I’ll know what to do.” Heeseung brought you closer to his embrace, patting your head.

“I- I hit them with y-your pan—”

“My pan?” Heeseung’s eyes popped out, jaw dropping.

Your teary eyes keeps spilling out tears, “Y-yeah, and–”

A series of wailing and mouthy ruckus emits from the back of the police station, “Bitch! That woman is a bitch! Don’t trust her!”

“You fucking watch your mouth.” Heeseung spat out.

“Heeseung-ah! What kind of woman had you brought into your apartment? She’s the spawn of a devil!!”

“Yeah right!” says the man, sobbing as he pressed the white towel covered in ice onto his bruised eyes, hissing in pain as he did so.

“Well, if it wasn’t you trying to barge into my apartment then she wouldn’t have to be this nervous and scared, all because of you.” Heeseung raised his eyebrow.

“S-SCARED? N-NERVOUS? T-THE T-T- FUCK? AM I HEARING YOU RIGHT?!” another man with a bulging eye whines from the back seat.

“SHE FUCKING BEAT US TO DEATH!” they all screamed in unison.

. . . rewind

“Hello?” your eyes fell on a bunch of unfamiliar faces standing in front of the door—three guys; two were drunk and another sober, with a girl whose eyes peering at you like there's no tomorrow.

“Fuck I told you I was right!” the girl whined like a child.

You were met with a barrage of nonsenses thrown at you. The girl was whiny and desperate, asking where Heeseung was or who are you and where you came from, what you were doing here and sorta all of that. From the way she acts, you concluded that she was a piece of bitch dying for Heeseung’s attention. Not only that, the men beside her seems to be her friends which reminds you of the saying; bad apples would soon consume the rest of the good apples.

Pathetic, you thought and yet you’re still keeping up your sweet persona.

Till it unfortunately hits your nerves. “Please kindly get lost.”

“I told you right, if it wasn’t— fuck what?” The girl blinks twice, “D-did i hear you right, miss girl?”

“Yeah she told you to get lost.”

“Shut up!” the girl snapped at her cousin. “Did you just really–”

“Yeah I said get lost.” nonchalantly you say, fed up with keeping up your persona in front of useless pieces of shits not even tangled with your mission so who cares if they do know the real you?

“Pfft!” the girl held her sides, bursting into laughter. “Oh god, a petite girl like you having the nerves to tell us to get lost? Look at yourself first! You’re so petite that the wind can carry you!”

Staying silent as you can as you wait for her to finish her nonsense, “Are you done?”

“Yah. Bitch—”

“Fine then, wait for a min.” you shut the door right to their face much to their protests, until a few minutes later you stepped out of the door with the round object in your tight grasp.

“F-fuck—”

“Hm.. Now you got my attention, you son of a bitch.”

Grab!

"Sir," echoes a gut wrenching scream from the man himself as you bend his arm, twisting it till his shoulder spun to an unstable joint. "It would be nice if you tone it down as," you leaned in to whisper to his ear, "It's never wise to act bold in a territory you don't belong to."

"Who are you?!" it came out as a whisper laced in downright dread as before him, "Fuck help me! Oh my god— my arm, my arm!!"

You pulled away much to the man's outburst of pain, spun your heels around and snapping your fingers up in the air, a faint click almost resembling the sound of a flicking violin, your lips tugging up in a menacing smirk. You dodged the punch and kicked them by launching your leg up to the air, snapping the guys arm in a gut-wrenching sound.

The girl's jaw dropped in utter shock and disbelief with her hands cupping her mouth, letting out a gut-wrenching scream which alerted the entire neighbourhood.

end. . .

Crows cawing from afar as they finish off their story, your quivered form suppressing the need to roll your laughter from bursting into the air behind Heeseung.

A sigh left Heeseung’s mouth, “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. She?” he gestured at you and then back at them, “Beat all of you?”

Heeseung looked up at the ceiling seemingly fed up with the entire ordeal, memories flashing back to when he first met you eventually shaking his head.

“Okay then if you won’t believe us! But there’s a CCTV on your door right, let’s check that then and you’ll see we were telling the fucking truth!”

What's the use? You sighed. They won't even find that footage anyways as your minions had settle everything effortlessly. Pouting your lips with your crossed arms as you tilted your head to look at the computer screen blank and empty.

"I think there has been a malfunction—"

"WHAT?! YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!" The ruckus had your ear bleeding into pain, not wanting to be there any longer.

Tugging his coat, “Sir.. Can we just g-go back home?”

“Okay, I'll settle this real quick so they won’t bother you anymore okay?”

It didn't took long, actually. As he finally came back with that same smile on his face after telling you that the girl and her friends will be subjected to stay in the cell for a few days. Feigning a solemn face yet inside you were giggling.

“I- greatly apologise over what happened, though! I'm putting you in so much trouble.” you bow down in which Heeseung shrugs, shaking his head in a small smile.

“Ya, ya. Don’t mind it, sometimes we just can't avoid problems.” he patted your head in a gentle manner.

“Do you know them though..?”

“They’re just my neighbour after staying here for over a year. Hm, it’s just that I rarely talk with them.” you nodded still hanging your head down to make yourself look pitiful in front of him. “Hey, I guess we got the chance then to go outside for boots and new fits?”

Your eyes glints at the chance presenting itself before you, feigning an awkward laughter. “Sr. Heeseung. I couldn’t thank you enough with all these things you’re doing for me.”

“If you appreciate it then let's go, I'm going to buy one for myself too!”

So here you are with Heeseung inside a luxury store much to your surprise. Was he flaunting his money to you? By the looks of it, it was kinda obvious and you kept the growing amusement on your face from surfacing as he strolls over the sides, pausing every now and then to show you a piece of fit and asking you which one you like.

Nevertheless, you feigned a series of Pikachu faces whenever he pulls a dress with its price tag looming over you like a tsunami—when in fact, you're dying to have it and possibly sell it after. Let's just say, you got what you wanted.

You two strode off to take cover under the gazebo in the park as soft droplets of rain fell upon the both of you and a faint clap of thunder echoed in this city and soon the street had been drenched in endless pit-patter.

The shopping bags sat upright on the bench. Faint clap of softened raindrops hit the street, round puddles arising with the accumulated rain, and a green frog hops on the way to the side of the bench. The cool breeze caresses against your skin.

“The rain is so pretty.” you breathe out. Somehow this time, your words were true. You turned to look at Heeseung whose face was rather dull as he gazed out at the street. "W-what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Rain is not really my favourite thing to see." He answered.

You didn't question any further as it seems that he was emitting desolation from such a question and instead you asked something else, "How was work?"

"Uh, quite a wreck inside there not gonna lie." Heeseung lets out a soft tsk, “There’s this girl growling like a mad dog, kinda a karen if you know what that means—” he pauses after your expression contorting into confusion, “A Karen is that overly sensitive person who tries their best to ruin everyone’s day.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ even when you are fully aware of what it means, just making sure you look dumb enough before his eyes when you realise you were observing him for too long; his sublime face with raindrops trailing down his rosy cheek and tan skin, his bangs sticking to his eyelids as he brushes off the remaining raindrops off his drenched black coat.

Stop looking at him, why are you doing this? Snapping your head back to the sublime scenery of the rain hitting the ground, the sound was as if someone was playing piano through the rain and the main difference was the rain was the song.

Heeseung turn his attention back on you in which his heart skipped a beat. Your drenched white shirt, which hugs your hips down with your head hanging low, fingers fiddling the hem of your old pink grandma skirt. You truly look so innocent, he thought.

“You know, just stay with me." He suddenly voice out much to your surprise. "You don’t have to go back home to that kind of people who don't deserve to be called your parents, it just doesn’t seem right.” Heeseung said, “Just let me take care of you, please?

You didn't give an answer, waiting for him to say more before you could give a fitting response to him. Waiting to see how smitten he is for you. "W-what do you mean, s-sir?"

“It just.. feels lonely nowadays, and I don’t mind having another person to stay with. You know what I mean?”

You shook your head slightly yet your heart skipped a beat in utter excitement over your plan succeeding.

“I'll be your friend, we'll take care of each other and then—"

H-huh?! You rolled your eyes at the back of your head in your imagination. Pissed off at the fact that this man still is holding himself back. Sniffing a huge deep breathe in, you turn to face him with a sweet smile on your face. "I would love to!"

Yea right.

A puppy hops in front of you two, its tail wagging and tongue pouring out as it spun multiple times. The sight of the happy puppy brought a genuine smile on your face when just then an old couple came in through.

“Maeumi! Oh, sweetheart. I thought i’d lose you.” the old lady slowly bend her knees, the puppy immediately went to her arms. An old man stood behind her and his gaze fall on you along with Heeseung.

“May we sit here?..” husky and old voice had rubbed your heart in a gentle almost like hug.

You and Heeseung nodded in unison, with a small smile urging them to sit just far right between you. Just now you and him had a fair distance from together but now you were closer to him.

Watching the old couple go about their day somehow gave you this gentle touch of breeze, especially the white puppy wagging its tail beside the old lady’s leg.

‘“Puppies..”

Heeseung notices your heart eyes towards the puppy, tilting his head at you. “It’s adorable.”

“H-hm?!”

“I said it’s adorable, the puppy.” yet his eyes never left you. Is he trying to pull the shit pull and push game?

“I-it is..” you let out an awkward laugh.

“You wanna get puppies together someday? If you want, we could have another tenant together with us in the apartment.”

You unexpectedly let out a small burst of laughter much to your surprise, immediately covering your mouth with your hand with your eyes widening.

“I mean, sure? I- n-never had a puppy before.” your gaze fell on the puppy again, “They’re just so fluffy, and huggable.”

“I can see why.”

Turning your eyes back on him, “Sr. Heeseung, have you had a puppy before?”

Heeseung took a brief pause, deep in thought before answering. “I did as a child, it was cute, noisy and often it won’t leave me alone.”

The old couple’s small gesture towards each other; the grandpa tucking his wife’s hair behind her ear, and the abashed reaction of her—the sun beaming on the edges of their face, pouring soft raindrops behind them and the greeny leaves from the bushes—everything, the scenery was truly breathtaking it had your breath caught off on the back of your throat and one small question beats inside your heart—was this love?

“Are you two, perhaps, lovers?” the grandma suddenly asked such a question resulting in your eyes widening, yet you were unsure of what was Heeseung's reaction as well.

“U-Uh.. no!” you two answered in unison, looking at each other in giggles.

Rubbing his neck as an abashed smile surfaces on his lips, “We-we’re just a friend.”

“I see, perhaps you could ignore my useless opinions but you two could make a great couple.” the grandma spoke as her hand patted the puppy’s head, its tail wagging vigorously.

The question seems to put the two of you back to reality, as this thought echos in the back of your heads—A great couple? What a joke.

A few days have passed since you stayed here and yet nothing ever happens except for some flattering lines or suggestive touches coming from the man himself. To be fair, you’d expected him to give in to you in just two or four days at minimum. You couldn’t let this stretched out this far, though.

You had your minions watched over him for the past couple days and as expected this guy wasn't as innocent as you expected which made you chuckle mischievously.

"Fuck, I knew you weren't that innocent. Men are all the same." A somewhat rather solemn flashes through your eyes but you squint your eyes in return.

You heard Heeseung on the phone, his words trailing to your ears one by one and each of them confirming your suspicion for him. A scoff emits from you, somewhat disappointed but something you got rid of once you took notice of it as if this was even necessary? A lingering hope that is, foolish you. At least the truth unravels itself before you, at least it did. It’s time to get on with the plan, after all—it’s the very reason why you’re even here in the first place.

You just needed this guy to fall for you and make him spend all his money on you, that's all. Money. You need it for the brothel to keep going on. For the girls you promised to protect. You couldn't care any less whether or not he's innocent as an angel or as mischievous as a snake.

Of course, truly he looks dashing and charming for you yet he reminds you of someone else—nevertheless, you could compare him of a perfect man in disguise of an old, reeking money of a playboy, with plenty of girls queuing up in a stretched out line ready to begged on their knees just for a glimpse of his eyes on them.

The sun rose high up in the air when you followed behind Heeseung, to see which kind of girl was he meeting with so you had an idea of what to do with your plan.

"Huh? So he got another chick? Tsk, no wonder." You thought as you followed a few metres away from him. The sight of him having a sweet interaction with the tailor.

You sat on one of the tables in your disguised form; a brown hat, dark sunglasses on the tip of your nose, black coat hugging the sides of your knees as you sit upright, taking a long sip from your freshly made juice as you poured your ear into their conversation.

“You know we can do it together in the changing room—”

Your lungs burst into the juices flowing through your esopaghus, shooting it back up to the tip of your tongue much to your amusement over the bold words chosen–shaking your head in a low audible laughter as you wipe the spilled contents on your coat while muttering a thousand worth of disappointment.

“Well that can wait, love. However, I had a formal party to attend by the end of this week. Would you give me the honour to be the lady standing beside me?”

Huh, party? You raised your eyebrow at those words. Haa.. an idea beams up in your mind upon processing the newly received information—a smirk grew on your face, why not you instead? You had to he the one he’ll take to the event instead and you'll make sure of it.

Well dear, did it take a long time before the pair had finally finished their chit-chat and you hurried back faster to the apartment before Heeseung could. You almost stumble upon the stairs much to your attempt on getting to the front door, tapping the codes all over again and immediately snucking yourself inside.

"The fuck is wrong with them??" Heeseung's eyes widened in such an immense disbelief, scoffing every now here and then with the phone on his hands, unaware of your suppressed cackle as you sat watching the TV.

"...pfft." an audible laughter left your mouth which had Heeseung's attention on yours. You hastily let out another laughter, pointing your finger at the running TV show which had a pair of ducks hopping along the street.

Heeseung having the thought of whether you're that innocent or just dense in the slightest bit.

Of course, you literally hunt down every single chick on his list by ordering your minions from the brothel to handle them.

Oblivious he was to the fact that you went to the shop the other day wearing an attire tremendously different to when you were in Heeseung’s presence; a tight fitting socks, heels turning downwards to the sense it can digs its claws deep inside pervert’s throat, your tight fitting corset hugging your white dress flowing downwards your hips. Nonchalantly you walked through each section of dress, your finger trailing onto all of them as if you didn't know what to pick.

As expected, the tailor lady had her face constantly powdered with the makeup palette on her hand as she stood still in the reception counter, perfectly unaware of her surroundings. Ah, what a perfect day to put out a useless obstacle out of your way.

Your knuckles come into contact on the counter forming a few faint knocks, in which her attention falls on you with eyebrows raised.

“Y'know, take these few bucks and leave." you pushed the check paper to her hands much to her confusion.

"Huh? What are you—"

"Aw, sweetheart. Don't be so dense that you aren't aware that the man you often had inside your pretty little changing room belongs to someone else."

Her eyes widened in fractions, "What? Are you saying Heeseung?—" a fit of scoff escaped her thick red lips, "Miss, who do you think you are, huh? Going around to make up a ridiculous lie? Look at this."

She raises her hand up to your eye level showing you her index finger wrapped in a gleaming diamond ring along with her expression making out a mockery at you.

"Hm, guess I'll have to put you in your place then." You were about to burst into a fit of laughter when her eyeballs were about to pop out upon seeing the picture you had in your phone's lock screen; Heeseung in his deep slumber on his bed. "If I was you, I wouldn't stay with someone like him any longer."

"Then?!" Her voice heightened in rage, "How about you? Obviously he's cheating on you as well!"

"Nuh uh, we'll see about that." you spun around your heel as you lowered down your glasses, taking one last look at her over your shoulder—giving her a smug look.

Let’s just say the woman had her rage thrown at Heeseung; wailing like a hyena and screaming at him through the phone much to his displeasure and the cost of an ear injury. Telling him how horrible he was for making out a fool of her and on and on—yet Heeseung could only roll his eyes, not at all interested at the woman's rage as afterall she was only another toy for him.

Yet, it had his mind going through the vast space as his face were consumed with utter confusion, “Which one of them?..” he couldn’t remember which girl though, and couldn’t be bothered really. He had too many girls wrapped round her finger that he somehow forgot who is who, only paying attention to those who had more benefits to him.

"(Name)."

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I can ask for your help?" Heeseung's doe eyes pleaded with the utmost affection.

Ah finally, the sweet words you were dying to hear. You couldn't contain your grin as you watered the flowers with your back before him, spinning your heels to met his pleading eyes.

"Of course! Tell me, I would be happy to help!"

There he broke the news of him going to the grand formal party and you of course, pretended with putting your best interest regard to his problems.

Heeseung swore he's about to yawn over the thousand times he said this among the plenty of girls he went to.

"It's okay, you can bring me to the party!" you sighed in complete bliss. “But– i don’t really know much of the basic things..” you pursed your lips in an abashed manner, or actually, you lied.

Heeseung exhaled a deep thought before assuring you with a warm rub against your clasped hands, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

It apparently baffles you that Heeseung went all the way in teaching you the basic etiquettes, unaware that you were actually well knowledgeable in all these stuffs—just fooling the shit out of him by messing it up intentionally—dropping the spoon on the ground, using the fork in a peasant mode, barbaric munching on the 5 star food much to his cringe expression and displeasure and yet he still tried to be as polite as possible.

You had a great time messing up with him, to be honest.

“Still, still.” his arms around your waist as he guided you through the dancing session. Teaching you the basics of waltz and all.

“You’re doing good.” yea sike. You purposely tugged at his sleeve so he can fall on you and your lips brushed against him in a millisecond, feigning utter surprise as you cupped your lips.

“I-I’m sorry!”

A deep chuckle emits from him, “It’s fine, it’s fine. Let's we try again?” his hand extended before you as he helped you on your feet. Your faces so dangerously close to his. You couldn't wait for the day of the party.

To have him beg for your touches, or possibly fall even more for you as you help him through his meetings. What and whatnots, it baffles you that the boy was keeping it slow and steady, a stark contrast from what you heard and saw before you that day. Was his plan to keep you beside him for a fairly long time? Who knows but it does seem to look like it. At first you had this rush flowing through your veins, intending to end all of it at once but now, your plan somehow change–who cares if he wants it slow? You could take all the time in the world as long as he spend his money on you.

Your plan was going entirely well as here you are trying a new fit one after another as Heeseung sat on the couch, eyes fixated on you while you choose which dress suits you the best.

“Which one?” you asked him with a big grin on your lips.

“Hm.. it looks good, try another one though.”

“This one might look good on her, sir.” the tailor pulls out another dress.

Well boy, did it goes on for an eternity before Heeseung and you finally agreed on the dress you wore right now.

“You’re so beautiful.” Heeseung breathe out in downright amazement, eyes refusing to falter from you. “Almost as if.. You were like a different person.”

Heeseung’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes beaming yet laced with confusion as he observed all of you; your rosy cheeks and your shy eyes fluttering away from his intense ones—your finger fiddling the hems of your dresses per your usual habit, licking your lips every now and often. He had to admit you were truly breathtaking as of this very moment.

“Have you decided sir?”

“-O-oh, yes of course.” Heeseung's eyes refuse to leave yours even when the staff talks to him.

He later comes back and approaches with you stars sparkling in his dreamy orbs, reaching his hand out for you to take. "Are you ready?"

Slipping your fingers into his hands, of course you're ready than ever—for him to give in to you tonight, "I'm ready!"

Moonlight embracing the sky, hiding behind the grey veined clouds, illuminating its proof of living onto this tenants of the world.

“Still remember what I taught you? Spoon, fork, the handkerchief—” you nodded with every word coming out from his mouth, going through all of them like a military drill. “You sure you’re okay?” Heeseung squeezed your trembling hands, worried eyes.

Nodding in an apparent smile, “Hm! I can do this.”

“You don’t need to talk much, though. Just stand still, with me. I’ll do the rest of the job. Easy, right?” He rubs your hand.

You look out from the window where the grand party was centred at. The scent of elite class and old money all gathered in this high end hotel.

Nothing new, apparently for you—it was another routine, a specific situation you were trained in. These little etiquettes and manners, you’ve mastered them so well. After this night, you’ll take the first move. You won’t let this day pass without achieving the grandeur of your plan—make him lust for you and kneel before you.

With your arms laced around his, the insides of the hotel unravel it’s magnificent scene as you and him went inside. Men and women in expensive attire, those with social status alike—the elite ones—gathered in this event. Low volume of waltz, an enormous choir and a whole orchestra playing in the background. Clink clanks of champagne glasses, red wine pouring onto the fountain of glasses, waitresses and waiters striding all over the space to deliver and attend to each guest. The bright glowing chandelier, emitting its orange hues—a sublime mood of fantasia.

Yet it brought your heart a fit of pang. All too familiar it was, isnt?

"Oh, so this is your new girl?" A blonde haired girl presents herself before you when you turn around—her fit consisting of a dark blue dress, hugging her fairly thin waist, the collars drooped down to show her bare collarbones yet the big fat diamond necklace round her neck adorned her overalls. Her fingers twirling the glass of half filled champagne, thick red lips adorning her face.

“Gaeul.” Heeseung confirms her presence, his hand wrapping your waist. Ah so Gaeul was her name?

"Wow, she looks so damn off, like ugh I get the villager type." Another girl appeared alongside Gaeul. Her aura exudes immense elegance as her flowy dark brown hair hugs down to her arms.

"I know right?"

"Just stop it. Gaeul, Yujin." Heeseung spat out, but then the father of the girl came and he excused himself to have a talk with the father. “She’s just–”

An old man appeared at sight with his hands on his back, an intimidating aura emitting from him as he observed each and one of you. “Dad. Look, can you believe that Heeseung will replace me with this girl? Can you talk him back to his senses, please?”

Gaeul’s father observes you meticulously before nodding and telling Heeseung to follow him.

There's an obvious hesitance in Heeseung's eyes yet whispers into your ears, “I’ll be back, okay? Just ignore them.” before disappearing into the spilling crowd, they must’ve gone inside the building you thought.

"So? How does it feel to have your feet on an elite party? Happy?" You turn to look at Gaeul's mockery eyes at you and Yujin's chuckling behind her.

Honestly, years of staying in the brothel had given you immunity to such people as you were subjected to horrors people couldn't even fathom—as all sorts of men and women had done unspeakable things either on you or on someone—they were cunning, rude, loud, physically abusive, they drained you out of your mind like a bloodsucker and all sorts of thing to the point you could say that these two are what you would call—

"Pathetic." You breathed out and it's safe to say that they heard you as expected from their exaggerated reaction.

"W-what?" Gaeul scoffed as she blinked in an abnormal pace, "What did you just say?"

"Pathetic, bitch, pathetic." You repeated before her, amused you were as her jaw dropped even further.

"Fuck? Watch your mouth, please! Who do you think you are?!" She tugged down your dress resulting in a huge slit almost revealing your thighs causing you to let out a yelp. "Now it suits you better, slutty bitch."

"Everyone!" Yujin clapped her hands up in the air—a series of gasps and murmurs emitted from the spectators themselves. The spotlight of the party was now on you. Fuck, you thought.

"You know..—" you were interrupted by a familiar silhouette grabs your attention from your side eye, your heart dropped upon laying your eyes on the particular person approaching.

“Huh, what's with the commotion, ladies? Chill abit, will you?” Familiar voice that sent chills down your spine, his slicked back hair, exquisite suit, that same smile you adore and grown to despise, his sparkling eyes under the lights. His whole being holding a pure weight of your past.

“Jay!” Yujin called out with a big wide smile on her face, a stark contrast from her intimidating aura a few minutes ago. You spun around without much hesitation wanting to leave as soon as you can before Gaeul tugs your arm.

"Where the fuck you think you're going? We're not done yet!"

"(Name)!" Heeseung appeared, surprise etched all over his face as he sees the entire commotion. "Fuck, let her go! Why are you so desperate like this!"

"Ugh!" Gaeul stumbled a few steps backwards as Heeseung pry off her hands from yours.

"(Name)? (Name)?" Snapped out from your oblivion of despair, you looked into Heeseung's eyes with your teary ones. "A-are?— What's wrong?"

Your eyes begin to burn in a sea of tears, gathering your entire strength to pull it in. Don’t fall. Don’t fall. It’s okay. It's okay you tell yourself however your trembling lips show otherwise, your clenched fist shivering not in freezing weather but the burning heat in your heart strings.

“Are you okay? Is it too cold for you? You know we can go back home if you want to, right?” Heeseung rubs his hands on your bare arms to provide a sense of warmth.

“N-no, i’m fine, i’m f-fine..” choking on your tears you did, don’t cry. No fuck, you can’t. “I w-want to go home. I really want to go home—”

“Wait?" as if a strong force pulled you back, “Am I seeing this right?” his familiar voice had you frozen much to Heeseung’s surprise. ”Is that you, (Name)?"

Yeah, it's me. You want to spin around and shout this at his face. The man who you gave your whole trust and love. The man who you wish for his loving touches, his familiar voice and affectionate words. The man who sold you off to the brothel. Your eyes began to tear up, darting relentlessly to prevent it from falling, you trembled under Heeseung’s arms.

The man who you’d thought to be the prince in your once fairy tale book. The man who sold you off to the brothel—Park Jay.

You and Heeseung turned to face them, and just like you—his nonchalant expression mirrored yours but brewed in an immense surprise. His mouth open, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned you up and down. "(Name)? I-Is that you?"

"Heh? You know her?!" others asked in utter surprise.

"I—I d-don't know what you're talking about?" You feigned a composed smile, yet deep inside you are crumbling into tiny pieces of shards with every passing minute of your eyes on him.

"Wait, you're not (Name)? That's weird. You really do look like her. You two had the same name though, except.." Jay chuckled, shaking his head.

"Why? Is there something about her?" Yujin asked with curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

A low cackle emits from him, "No idea. Just a random girl I met in a brothel. A prostitute, that is."

"What the fuck, you went into a brothel??"

"C'mon babe, it's almost 10 years ago. You can't be jealous." His amused face irks you, ripping your heartstrings apart as you observe him leaning down pressing a soft kiss against the young lady’s lips.

A random girl. A prostitute. You bit your lip in attempts to suppress your sobs. Crumbling you were in this hellhole of a reeking betrayal, a betrayal made up of lies.

“Then where are you from then? It’s just amusing, really—that I could meet two separate people with the same identical face. So I was wondering, who are you then?” his eyebrows raised in a comical way, waiting for your response.

Answer something. Something.

A firm squeeze on your bare arms had you looking up to the person in question, his eyes looking down to you in a comforting one, almost like home.

"I'd prefer you not compare her to such a vulgar term, Jay. Watch the way you speak to my future wife."

“Future wife?!”

© SWEETPIECEOFNIGHTMAREZ [2. 20. 2022]

🐾AUTHOR'S NOTE — thank you for reading my story and have a nice day :))

[azura-tsukikage]

Advice for beginner witches or any witch in general: When evaluating witchcraft or spiritual books, it's a good idea to be cautious of certain terms and phrases that may raise red flags. Here are some terms and phrases to watch out for:

"Solve all your life's problems": Be skeptical of books that promise to solve all of your life's issues or challenges through their practices. Life is complex, and no single approach or belief can provide all the answers.

"Open up your mystical powers" or "gain magical abilities": Beware of claims that suggest you can acquire mystical or magical powers through a book or practice. Real personal growth and development often take time and effort; and none of that is a "mystical ability". Truly learning skills is psychological and obviously observed in the consistent change of beliefs, behaviors, cognition and habits.

"Take control of the universe" or "change reality": Claims that you can control powers of the entire universe or fundamentally alter reality should be met with skepticism. Witchcraft is typically more about personal growth and understanding rather than controlling external forces.

"Guaranteed results" or "instant success": Books that promise results or success based purely on mysticism should raise suspicion. Personal growth and spiritual development are ongoing processes that vary for each individual.

Lack of credible sources or citations: If a book lacks credible sources, resources or citations, it might be based on unfounded claims, anecdotal evidence or personal opinions rather than solid research.

Excessive use of jargon and buzzwords: Be cautious of books that rely heavily on buzzwords and jargon without offering clear explanations or practical guidance. Examples:

"Athame": A ceremonial double-edged knife often used in rituals.

"Coven": A group of witches who practice together and often follow a specific tradition or path.

"Grimoire": A personal or magical journal where witches record spells, rituals, and experiences.

"Ancestral veneration": The practice of honoring and connecting with one's deceased ancestors.

"Casting a circle": A ritual act of creating a sacred and protected space for magical work.

"Invocation": A prayer or ritual act calling upon a deity, spirit, or energy to be present.

"Sabbats" and "Esbat": Terms for specific Wiccan or pagan holidays and full moon rituals.

"Widdershins" and "Deosil": Terms used to describe counterclockwise (widdershins) and clockwise (deosil) motions in rituals.

"Boline": A ritual knife used for practical purposes, like cutting herbs or cords.

"Astral projection": The practice of consciously leaving one's physical body and traveling in the astral realm.

"Akashic records": A supposed universal database of information that can be accessed through meditation or divination.

"Elemental correspondences": Assigning specific elements (earth, air, fire, water) to different directions or attributes in magic.

"Hedge witch" or "Kitchen witch": Descriptions of different paths or specialties within witchcraft.

"Asperger" and "Smudging": Ritual acts of sprinkling or using smoke for purification.

"Shadow work": The process of exploring and integrating one's dark or unconscious aspects for personal growth.

Overemphasis on the author's credentials or experience: While it's essential for authors to have knowledge and experience, excessive self-promotion and credential boasting may be a sign of self-aggrandizement.

To make an informed choice, it's essential to read reviews, seek recommendations from trusted sources, and evaluate the author's background and credibility. If a book or resource sounds too good to be true or makes grandiose claims, it's a good idea to approach it with skepticism and consider alternative, well-researched materials.

If you are truly struggling with financial issues, mental health, emotional stability, a lack of guidance, or any other concerning issues, please consider seeking support from professionals, therapists, counselors, or support groups. While witchcraft and spirituality can be meaningful aspects of your life, they are not substitutes for addressing serious challenges or seeking professional help. There are real, evidence-based methods and experts who can provide the assistance and guidance you need to work through these issues. Remember, your well-being should always come first, and taking a holistic approach to your personal growth includes addressing the mental, emotional, and practical aspects of your life. Don't hesitate to reach out to qualified individuals who can provide the support you deserve.

[theladyofbloodshed]

You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter Three

(If you read the Wings & Embers nessian chapter online, let's pretend it happened but there was no neck nuzzling)

Blood rubies. Damned blood rubies. Azriel had advised against any trip to the Summer Court with a new, untested high lord. They hadn’t yet got the full measure of Tarquin beyond his ambition and desire to see his court succeed. As always, Rhys knew best and cared little for the consequence because he was confident in Velaris’ security. He’d risked himself to get the book that Amren was translating. Then the three chicken-egg sized rubies had been presented to Azriel with glee by Keir at the Hewn City. Now, he had to stretch his spies a little further. Not only did they need to cover the Queens’ residence on the Continent, the Spring Court, and the mortal village that Feyre’s sisters lived in, but Adriata too. Not that any good came from it. He grew increasingly frustrated by the lack of progress. If Tarquin and Varian turned up on the steps of the Hewn City, they’d be none the wiser until it happened. If Azriel failed, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

Azriel wasn’t sleeping. Each day, he pushed the limits of what a fae body should be able to function on. The headache that needled at his temples made him irritable. Mor had commented that he looked gaunt on one of her frequent interceptions; she had a habit of knowing when he’d returned and would often seek him out on the roof. One day, it would snap for them. The mating bond. In truth, he only ever returned to have a brief glimpse of her. There was no other reason to return to Velaris when his skillset was needed elsewhere.

‘You are allowed to take a break, you know,’ she reminded him. ‘Come to Rita’s with us tonight.’

‘When I take a break that means we’re complacent. This city – and its people – are too important to grow complacent with.’

The heavy gait of Cassian sounded as he rounded the stairs from the roof. A sheen of sweat was on his forehead and his hands remained wrapped from whatever training he’d run through with Feyre.

‘If you don’t take a break willingly, your body will decide when it happens, brother.’ He clapped him on the back in greeting. ‘Alright?’

‘I’m fine,’ Azriel deflected.

He wasn’t. He was exhausted. His body was used to running on empty with a little coaxing that it would just be one more night of broken sleep. This was different. A bone-deep exhaustion was burrowing into his marrow with every day that he pushed himself. The pain in his chest hadn’t subsided either although he had grown used to it. It was always with him now, as much as his shadows were.

A shadow wrapped around his hand to disguise it as he plucked an apple from the bowl on the kitchen side. It was the first thing he’d eaten all day and the dim light of his siphons was giving away how much he was flagging.  

Mor gave an easy shrug. ‘Where are you off to next?’

‘I’ll sweep the mortal village.’

‘No need,’ called Cassian as he settled onto the couch in the lounge. ‘I had the pleasure of delivering a letter there last night to the wicked witch of the west.’

Irritation clawed at Azriel’s chest. Rhys knew he would be heading there that evening. It was a long flight for Cassian – and he hadn’t been informed of it. That was surely an oversight. Unless Rhys thought Azriel incapable of delivering a letter. After all, his spies had failed thus far.

Useless, a voice murmured in his ear.  

‘Cass is in a bad mood because of - what did you call her? A bossy know-it-all female?’

Cassian let out a long, deep groan. ‘You’re as bad as Feyre. And her damn sister.’

‘What happened?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, lying because Cassian always had a tell when he lied. He’d shift his shoulders slightly and glance to the left. ‘I just can’t stand her.’

‘Why?’ demanded Azriel.

A familiar hot spike of anger that usually meant he was about to do something reckless pulsed in his veins. His feet took him to the lounge where he stood ready for battle. He forced himself to breathe out then sit. Sleep was definitely needed. There was no need to fight Cassian over visiting the mortal sisters. He pressed cold fingers to his ribs.

‘She let her fourteen-year-old sister go into those woods and hunt while she did nothing. She doesn’t deserve Feyre’s concern. Feyre gave up everything for her.’ Cassian unwound the wraps from his hands as he spoke and bent his fingers. ‘I can’t put up with somebody so selfish and cruel.’  

A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘We weren’t there in that cottage. We only have Feyre’s side.’

‘Feyre wouldn’t lie about it,’ he scoffed. ‘You think her sisters deserve Rhys’ kindness?’

‘My brothers said I deserved what happened to me,’ replied Azriel, voice cold and empty. He couldn’t think of that place for long without spiralling into a hell of his own making.   

Mor’s eyes branded into his skin, snagging on his scars, revulsed by them. Even Cassian, who usually never looked at them, betrayed himself and stared at Azriel’s ruined hands. Azriel rose from the chair, grateful to the shadows that flocked to him, covering him from view.

‘Siblings are complicated. There are two sides to everything.’ He swallowed, regretting saying anything at all. ‘I have to go.’

***

The weather matched Nesta’s mood that afternoon – grey and miserable. A steady thrum of rain had been pattering against the glass for hours, locking them inside the manor. The path towards their manor was soggy and Elain’s baskets of flowers on the windowsill looked as if they were drowning. Although she had tried to occupy her time with needlework and her books, Nesta’s mind was too restless to settle on anything for long. She had been that way since Feyre had made her triumphant return with three strange faeries: One was arrogant and made no secret of it; one was rude and made it everybody’s problem; and the third was permissible, she supposed. Beautiful and well-mannered, but aloof in a way that had unsettled her.

The rude one had turned up the previous night with a letter after flapping around the chimney like an overgrown pigeon. Rather than hand it over at the door, he had insisted on following her all the way to her bedroom to speak. It was most improper. Then again, for a great brute who lacked any sort of manners, Nesta supposed it was normal for him. He had likely conquered many women. He certainly strutted about her house as if he had experience in such areas. She hadn’t liked the way he had looked at her. Or how he had crowded her space. At least the thought of Tomas Mandray had stilled him – and her – because for a moment, Nesta was certain he had been about to kiss her. She might have clawed his face if he tried.

She hissed through her teeth as her needle missed its mark and made her finger bleed.

From her vigil at the window, Elain glanced round. ‘When do you think father will return?’

When his pockets were bloated with coin. When his greed had been satiated. When he remembered he had daughters who needed him.

‘I do not know.’

Her sister fingered the iron engagement ring, turning it this way and that. ‘We cannot marry until he returns.’

Good, Nesta thought, maybe Lord Nolan will be dead by then and Graysen will inherit his title.

‘Then let us hope he returns soon.’

Nesta shifted in her seat. She stretched her neck backwards, bending as far as was comfortable, while she pressed a hand against her ribs.

‘Are you still in pain?’

‘It is nothing,’ she replied swiftly.

Elain frowned. ‘Did the healer truly not know what is causing it?’

They would have been better off throwing their coins down the drain than enlisting that crooked healer ever again. He had been utterly useless, prodding and poking, making her cough and lean over for no good reason. The fraud had concluded that there was nothing wrong with her, except stress was causing her phantom pain. A good dose of sea air was his recommendation. Those years of stress in their rotten cottage hadn’t caused any such pain but a couple of weeks with fae in her life had successfully managed it.

‘Tuberculosis. I shall leave you my books in my will,’ she said, turning back to her needlework.

‘You should not make such jokes, Nesta. If it is true that faeries are coming here to war then-’

‘Then whoever is still standing may inherit my entire library. Is that better?’

Her tone left Elain in a stunned silence. The mortal queens would hopefully be arriving soon and they’d be tasked with playing hosts. Nesta did not want to think of the consequences of the meeting – of what could happen to her people. The realistic answer was a brutal death. Since Feyre had turned up on the doorstep, she felt as if she was constantly holding in a breath, waiting for something awful to appear around a corner as war brewed. It kept her up at night. Feyre’s tale – how she had died and returned as a faerie – haunted her too. She could not think of her youngest sister’s sacrifice without growing tearful. Nesta wished that she had kept Feyre there the day they had painted together rather than sending her off with hope that she would have a happy ever after with her high lord. Instead, she’d met her death then a fate worse than it.

Her grey eyes shifted to her younger sister. Even with her face turned towards the window, Nesta could make out the forlorn expression from Nesta’s barbed words. They were all guilty of wrapping Elain up to never feel any bumps or sharp edges. A slightly venomous tongue could wound Elain. Nesta knew little of war, but she’d approach it the same way she approached anything else, with steely determination to make it through. Elain? Elain was delicate. War would break her. A life without Graysen would ruin her. Nesta knew she needed to stop taking out her worries on Elain, but she needed her sister to open her eyes to the world. It could be cruel and hard. They had protected Elain for as long as they could, but one day this world might chew her up and spit her out if she didn’t toughen up.  

‘Elain, would you ask Mrs. Laurent to prepare tea? She always gives biscuits when you ask. Then I’d like to hear about your plans for the western portion of the garden.’

Because they had made her soft, Elain was easy to mould. A compliment here or there did the trick. Elain loved to be wanted; she excelled in social situations. And Nesta hated that she used Elain like a puppet sometimes.

She gave Nesta a lovely smile then went in search of the housekeeper. Mrs. Laurent adored her. All of the staff did.

As she stood, Nesta let out a sigh then discarded her embroidery in the chair. At the window, she gazed out across the manor’s grounds. Mist that had been conjured by the rain curled around the stone walls that lined the property. It was a bleak day. The sort of day that drives hope into the ground. Nesta held her hand over her chest to soothe the pain blooming there.

If it came to war, Nesta would go wherever Elain went. It was her fault her sister was naïve and delicate. She had already failed one sister – as her new friends were keen to remind her.  She would not let Elain down.

***

How could it be?

The fading light had made his shadows stronger. He only recognised the sister thanks to the lamp illuminating the room. She stood at the window, tall and thin – too thin. His shadows engulfed him, obscuring him from view. Beyond that, Azriel had shielded himself too. Not even Rhys would know he was there. He didn’t know why he had come here. There had been a pull that demanded he ensure the house was safe. And it was. But he couldn’t leave because the eldest sister stood in the damn window staring at him.

How could it be?

Azriel knew that Nesta wasn’t truly seeing him, but her eyes had passed along the stone wall then stopped exactly where he was stood somehow like a force had compelled her to do it. There had been no shock, no cry of alarm. Her gaze had just settled there, almost in a trance. Her fingers splayed out across her ribs, rubbing against them without conscious thought.

The thought of Cassian coming here to war with her infuriated him for some reason. They had no blame in this; they were two mortals trapped between warring fae. They were asking these sisters to uproot their lives and potentially sacrifice their standing in society to host the Queens. Whatever had occurred during a youth of poverty was between the sisters, not for Cassian to meddle with. The level of anger towards Cassian wasn’t justified though. Azriel knew he needed to rest before he became undone. His anger was sputtering out of him as bad as it was when he was a boy, before he could keep it leashed.

His attention snagged on the blurred outline over Nesta’s shoulder. It was the middle sister. She carried in a tray of tea then settled it on a table. He swore he saw a brief smile flicker over Nesta’s lips. It evaporated as quickly as it arrived, but it had been real. She turned back to the window for a moment, silver eyes sweeping the grounds, canvassing over him again, before she tugged the thick, blue curtains across.

The mortals were safe. The house was secure. And he had work to do. There was no reason to remain any longer.

But as he winnowed to the Continent, the ache in his chest seemed to give a sigh of relief, like something restless there had settled.

[acesandocs]

Answering another question from @rudnitskaia

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

He really enjoys sewing. His main specialties are probably mending and embroidering but he can put together almost anything if he has a pattern. His mom taught him, their primary source of income growing up was sewing, mending and washing clothes for other people. It was also one of the few things she could get him to sit still while doing. He and his mom are estranged so it's something he likes to do if he’s feeling particularly homesick. He misses sitting by the dinner table and working on their own individual projects and getting help from her if he was struggling with something. His mom probably has a dozen kitchen towels made by small steady hands in a box somewhere with the rest of her old life.

He also likes collecting postcards.

Nothing particular to say about the art. Its Ace in his one room apartment working on Mau's birthday gift. He has most of his sewing gear in the tin box on the table. The flower pin is the pin seen in his bio and the flag pin is a decoration you might see on a Kransekake witch is a type of cake. Probably something he kept after a party.

[ritalacochona]

Episode 6,7 Headcannon to tied me over..

Wee John has had a few lines here and there but not been central to any stories yet. In the party episode, i hope we get to know John a bit better.

-Since he was always "the big guy," he was always expected to be tough, masculine, and work "man's job." Which meant hard labor. Something hard to carry "...give it to the big guy he will take care of it." It has left his back in shambles.

-By the time Stede Bonnet was looking for pirates, John needed the cushy job on the Revenge. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to make a living sacrificing his back. He didn't mention it when in the interview.

-He didn't expect to be set free from his former life when he joined the crew. Craft projects and bedtime stories that remind him of the soft boy he once was; artistic, mischievious, craving to be seen.

-The crew see him. They quickly accommodate Wee John's needs in a way he would never expect, and they would never mention. Roach giving him the only stool from his kitchen, Stede giving him jobs that require artistry over brute strength, Frenchie always there...

-When the Bonnet crew had to work for Jackie he had to return to "man's jobs." No accomodations when you need to eat. It was hard for him. The crew saw his mood grow darker with his pain but they knew he would never complain. They were his family. He needed to help them.

-In the bar one night, actors performed a story about a mermaid who doesn't know what's good for her, and a sea witch with clear no return policy. The sea witch is played by a man even bigger than John. John wonders what it's like to be so beautiful.

- The Red Flag is the second time in John's life where he felt supported. They immediately gave him the tailoring job. He worked with the gossiping girls, they got him knitting, he felt like one of them.

-Back on the Revenge, crew back together, everyone is different, everyone is in pain now. Frenchie is so changed. John wonders about the lockbox in Frenchie's head. The one they discussed on a quiet evening in their room a lifetime ago. He wonders if the lock broke.

- Everyone has their own troubles, half the crew is falling apart every other day. Wee John recedes into the background, not wanting to take up space. Getting on with it while in pain is an activity he has a lot of practice with.

-John thought Izzy was a twat before. Nasty little bugger, pining after his captain. Oh yeah, that was clear as day to John from his view on the deck.

- Now John can see other things. Izzy trying his best. Snarling and barking sound different when paired with haunted eyes. A man with the weight of the world on his back. John understands that.

- They bond over the stairs, over pain. Over knowing how to get on with it. Over watching all the crew find their places while losing musical chairs. Over continuing on anyway.

- John knits Izzy the stockings that protect his left limb from his wooden leg. Black at first, but then blue like the sea and the sky. Green, and even orange. Never purple, never red.

- When the party is announced, John remembers the story of the sea witch. Never saw the fuss about mermaids, John begins to sew a gown fit for a queen. The parts of him scared of his feminity no longer steer the ship. Izzy quietly admires that when no one is looking.

*** I am so excited to see them perform together.

[marrijaydeboo]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do some general headcannons for Vee from TOH dating a non-binary or GN reader?

Vee x Non-binary reader!

A/N: *vine boom* did this in class *one more vine boom* seat mate saw me writing *and again* she knew it was a fic. *boom boom boom* Anyway, I tried my best on this I hope you like it anon!

Warning/s: slight spoilers *vine boo

╭┈──── ◌ೄ◌ྀ ˊˎ -𓆙

➵ Vee was more than happy that you were comfortable enough to come out as non-binary to her!

➵ I meant the "more than happy" part. Bro screamed in absolute euphoria 😭

➵ made/bought you a non-binary flag that's for sure

➵ if you were human then you two would go on simple dates where you introduce her to places you're familiar with

➵ or food dates where you talk about the places you've visited before

➵ if you were a witch then she'll do the same thing as human reader did above! Just not near the giraffes.

➵ When Vee saw Masha's nails she was like "I gotta paint my lovers nails like that :0" if ur comfortable ofc

➵ speaking of "lover", pet names! Has called you a little meow meow a few times lol

➵ but fr tho she calls you "lovey" and "Mi corazon" for spanish lessons purposes (real)

➵ can't really call you any other pet names cause she's still quite shy

➵ might use the classic "lumity batata" card on you tho

➵ overall she loves you and was glad that you accepted her as your lover <33

➵ oh and uhh side note, Camila loves taking photos of you two whenever she gets the chance

➵ Luz x Amity vs. Vee x Y/N real

➵ EVEN BETTER. DOUBLE DATE WITH LUMITY.

Bonus:

➵ Whenever you and Vee go on a double date with lumity it's gonna be chaotic

➵ Amity would challenge Vee, A competition where they bake/cook something up for their dears and whoever finishes first and atleast make it taste good wins :D

➵ You and Luz would do this too ofc

➵ Ya'll literally made this challenge up while helping Camila in the kitchen

➵ there were left over ingredients on the food she was making and Amity was like "why not"

[iamfina5]

The Kinslayer Couple

Summary: The ground falls out from beneath Valaena Velaryon’s feet within the span of a week. The week begins with the death of her grandsire, making her mother queen and her Princess of Dragonstone. It ends with the death of her brother Lucerys at the hands of her husband, Aemond Targaryen. From there, Valaena embarks on a perilous journey to win a war against her own kin, forced to discern who are friends and who are foes on both sides of the conflict.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Odyssey

First Prev/Next

135 A.C.

The ship lurches, and Aemond tumbles from his hammock. Falling onto the uneven, wooden floor, he rolls uncontrollably to the port side of the ship and stops by smacking into the wall. Groaning, he struggles to sit upright and regain his bearings.

Deftly, the member of the crew nearest to him swings his legs from his own hammock and stands. Grinning down at Aemond, the man taunts, “Up on your feet, greenie.”

Groaning again, Aemond uses the wall as leverage and shoves himself up from the floor. Following the rest of the men, he stumbles as he makes his way to the ladder leading up to the deck. He is the last to emerge into the waterlogged, night air. Crewman run off in every direction, taking up a dozen tasks to keep the vessel upright amid the storm into which they had wandered while they slept. Disinclined to drown himself, he gets to work, too, helping to pull all of the sandbags hanging from the ship onto the deck. As the ship lurches again, he catches sight of the moon, white and waxing and gibbous between the clouds.

Two moons past, he had escaped from Daemon’s clutches with the unwitting aid of his wife. Years earlier, Valaena had shown him the secret passageways carved into Dragonstone, and so he had hidden within them for a week, stealing food from the kitchens and waiting for Daemon to lose his scent. For five days, his uncle and the little girl he brought with him had burned every ship that sailed from Dragonstone’s shore. On the sixth day, for whatever reason, they had stopped, and so Aemond had contrived a plan to stow away on the next ship with sails wide enough to leave the bay. In his time on Dragonstone, before Valaena had overthrown him, she had told him of how she smuggled her way onto a ship to Duskendale at the start of the war. He had thus embarked on a similar strategy, disguising himself by using her dagger to shear his hair as close to his scalp as he could get it and covering what was left with mud. He boarded a Westerosi merchant cog called Woods Witch with a gray flag for its destination. Gray, he had foolishly hoped, for Oldtown.

Gray for Asshai, he had later learned.

Now, he toils like a peasant, and for what, he often wonders. He meant to return to the mainland so he could recoup his losses, mayhaps find his brother, come back to Dragonstone with more men, and reclaim his dragon and his wife and his son. Rather, he is bound for the farthest part of Essos on a vessel set to make its return home after another three moons.

Pulling the last of the sandbags onto the ship, he takes a break to breathe. Leaning on the rail, he squints at the turbulent sky through the rain. A cord of lightning sparks in the distance, and he is reminded of a breath of fire amid the clouds in another storm a year past.

“Luke,” someone calls, the shout nearly lost in the roaring wind. Still, Aemond hears it and turns toward the sound. The first mate, Devan, waves to him, silently begging assistance with the aft sail. Rushing over, Aemond helps him set it to right.

Aemond had lasted a half-day on Woods Witch before being discovered. When one of the crew had rooted him out, he had been brought before the captain, Tom, who had asked his reason for stowing away on his ship. Naturally, he had bent the truth in his answer. Whilst he had maintained that he was fleeing Daemon, he claimed that it was because he feared the old prince would burn the whole island, not just him. The captain had accepted this tale of cowardice and asked his name.

He had offered the very first name which came to his mind, even as shame crawled up his throat alongside his voice. “Luke.”

At this, Tom had smiled. “My son is named Luke also, after the queen’s late son.” He had thus permitted Aemond to remain so long as he carried on like a member of the crew.

The ship lurches again, and Aemond struggles to maintain his hold on the halyard. A tall wave makes its way over the starboard side, soaking him and Devan. His grip on the rope slips, and he staggers back into Devan, who shoves at him. Aggrieved, he turns to confront him, but this loss of focus turns out to be a grievous mistake. Yet again, the boat lurches, and he tumbles toward the port side afresh.

As his head bangs against the wooden railing, his visions swims. He clutches at his head, his fingers digging through the short, wet strands there, and another blinding pain strikes him, though not from any sort of blow. It feels rather like a cord snapping, tearing him away from all he knows.

Suddenly, despite his pitiful knowledge of seafaring—why, he often despairs, did he not hearken to Valaena more closely when she spoke of such things—he knows exactly which direction is northwest. Craning his neck, he squints past the railing and through sheets of rain, out toward Dragonstone, invisible at this distance of hundreds of leagues. Dragonstone, where he left Vhagar, and where he feels her slip away now. Like a light going out, it occurs to him that he is not a dragonrider anymore.

He begins to feel glad for the battering rain, even as it continues to rock the ship and push him farther away from home, as it conceals the fact of his tears. By the time Woods Witch makes it out of the storm, he is completely numb, and he cannot say whether it is for the sopping cold or the hollow cavern opened up within him.

Keep Reading

[ferventrabbit]

Ao3 Fics

Hello hello! I thought I'd pin a post of my works on Ao3 :-). Here are the pairings I write:

Hannibal: Hannibal/Will Good Omens: Aziraphale/Crowley Interview with the Vampire: Lestat/Louis Our Flag Means Death: Ed/Stede Red White and Royal Blue: Alex/Henry Young Royals: Simon/Wilhelm

Fic Key

🤝 Collaborations

Series

🐭 Hannibal: Disney for Cannibals

🏡 Our Flag Means Death: Tales from a Seaside Inn

Completed longer works (>5k)

Hannibal

🐭 Tale as Old As Time (M): "I would consider very carefully before moving any further, Will," says Hannibal. Will can feel the mirth dancing in time with Molly's pulse. "What am I considering?" A great perhaps," he says. If he could learn to love another, the spell would be broken. But who could ever learn to love a beast? (24.7k)

Our Flag Means Death

Down to Fall (E): Stede decides he wants to expand their repertoire, so to speak. Like all things worth having, it's worth working for. (5.9K)

High Point (T): Documentary videographer Ed Teach retired at the top of his game five years ago. An odd request from documentary producer Stede Bonnet has lured him back into the field to join a film crew in the mountains of India. Ed and Stede are looking for a snow leopard, but end up finding something unexpected along the way. (9.6k)

🏡 Old Friends (T): The crew of the Revenge pay the innkeepers a visit. (6.7k)

One Day You'll Awaken (T): A sea witch gives Edward Teach a gift - Blackbeard, a shadow, a sentinel - to keep him safe and strong. Her condition? He must keep Blackbeard close, or she will make sure he sleeps soundly forever. Stede Bonnet threatens to ruin her plans. (32.6k)

Red White and Royal Blue

Once in a Century (E): After the kiss everything goes to utter and complete shit. OR COVID-19 interferes with best laid plans. (23.7k)

Completed one-shots (<5k)

Hannibal

A Terror Quiet Calm (E): Will makes up his mind during Mizumono, when things could have ended differently. A Mizumono fix-it. (1.2k)

Conversion (T): The woodsman notices a presence in the wilderness. A giver of gifts. (2.5k)

Hot Stuff, or The night Hannibal realized he was well and truly whipped (T): Hannibal wakes up to find Will is missing. His search leads to some surprising discoveries. (2.1k)

Into the Dark (G): "In the dark Will looked like a shadow. Hannibal felt the soft sound of Will’s breathing on his skin, tasted it in his throat." Prepare for super creepy times! (1.3k)

Raindrop Prelude (T): Will and Hannibal, on a boat, feeling feels. (1K)

🐭 Poor Unfortunate Soul (M): Will would sell his soul to be rid of the nightmares that plague him. Or, at least, his voice. (4.9k)

Surge (E): "He remembers that look in the kitchen, tries to place it. He’d seen flashes of it in Baltimore: the night of Clark Ingram’s arrest and maybe even the first time they met, glimpsed from the corner of Will’s eye. Then in Italy, seated together at the feet of spring. He doesn’t think about the cliff – can’t, or else his lungs tighten and he feels like he can’t breathe, like he might be dying." (2.3k)

The Tide (M): Based on this prompt: I can’t shake this idea: Hannibal and Will being intimate for the first time and being utterly overwhelmed by it. (1.5k)

🐭 Trust in Me (G): Will is lost in the jungle. He finds refuge in a familiar place. (2.1k)

Until (M): Will is desperate for an end. Hannibal will fight him every step of the way. (1.8k)

Interview with the Vampire

Room for One More (E): Baby Vampire's First Night In. or: Louis is feeling some type of way about sleeping in a coffin, but after some finagling he and Lestat finally get it right. (2.3k)

Good Omens

Hush (M): Aziraphale has returned from heaven, but there are things still left unsaid. Crowley has finally had enough. (2.1k).

Our Flag Means Death

Anchor (E): Ed assures Stede that their first time was not a mistake, which Stede desperately needs (AND DESERVES) to hear. (1.7k)

Captain's Quarters (G): Ed and Stede platonically share a bed and feel feelings, like pirates do. (2.3k)

Daylight (E): Ed doesn't know what to do with himself when Stede comes back, until he does. (2.1k)

🏡 Filled (E): Stede thinks about what it would be like if he could carry Ed’s child, which leads where all roads lead during Bottom Stede Week. (3.6k)

🏡 Filled Out (E): Ed tries to figure out how he feels about his body post-piracy. A post-season 2 inn fic. (1.6k)

The Finer Points (G): Stede expands his fancy pants curriculum to include a simple waltz. (1.9k)

🏡 First Night (E): Truly just an entire fic of Ed and Stede making out in this shitty house. A post-season 2 inn fic. (2.1k)

Five Kisses (E): A chronicle of five important kisses on the good ship Blackbonnet. (2.3k)

🤝 Forever's Gonna Start Tonight with @shieldmaidenofmithrilhall (G): As the total solar eclipse approaches, two strangers meet at the top of a mountain, one with a telescope and one with a picnic basket full of eclipse treats. (5k)

Holdover (E): A PWP in which Stede wears a nightie for one reason and one reason only. (3.5k)

I Feel Pretty (E): Stede engaging in body worship of Ed, his preferred occupation. (1.4k)

Interlude (E): A PWP missing scene from 2x08 because BOYFRIENDS. (1.7k)

Leather and Silk (E): A PWP based on the “leather and silk” bts we received from Samba 🙏. (1.6k)

Midnight on the Revenge (G): Literally just a smol fic about Stede holding Ed until he falls asleep because I need that, okay? (1k)

🤝 Milkmaid with @dracothelizard (E): Stede remembers the little song he and Ed sang at the floating market, and Ed decides it’s as good a day as any to show Stede the true meaning of “all things milk.” (4.6k)

🤝 Perfectly Ordinary Tuesday with @petrichorca (M): Dave just wanted a place to sleep for the night, but he gets a lot more than he bargained for when the owners of a seaside inn make him an unwitting participant in their wedding. Will he make it through the ceremony unscathed? And what’s that seagull doing here? (4.9k)

🤝 Row Your Boat with @petrichorca (T): A missing scene following the events of season 2, episode 4, “Fun and Games.” Ed’s agreed to come back to the Revenge with Stede for the night, but they’ve got two dinghies to row back to the ship—will the distance between them linger? (3.3k)

🏡 Soft Open (T): Ed and Stede start sprucing up their inn and welcome Mary and Doug for a soft open. (3.3k)

Storm (G): Stede helps Ed through his grief in the season 2 finale. (1k)

Taking it Slow (E): As requested, Stede takes it slow. (2k)

That Ship Has Sailed (E): My interpretation of what happened after Calypso's birthday. (2.1k)

The Lube That Fell to Earth (E): A fic in honor of the Astroglide lube-along, in which Ed and Stede are in receipt of a gift from outer space. (4.1k)

🏡 Threshold (T): Ed and Stede take turns carrying each other over the threshold of the inn. Eventually, they cross it together. (2.6k)

🏡 Tucked In (E): Discussion of first times and new discoveries under the Wee John blanket. A post-season 2 inn fic. (2.7k)

Wanted (T): The fuckery after their inevitable discovery at the inn, and what it means for Ed. Written for the #13DaysofCrimesmas! (2.7k)

Wide Awake (M): Five times Stede wakes Ed up, and one time Ed returns the favor. Set throughout seasons 1 and 2. (2.2k)

Works for Spiders, Works for Men (G): Stede rescues Ed from a formidable eight-legged foe. (575)

Young Royals

After the Credits (M): I needed the cameras to keep rolling after their first kiss...OR The dramatic make-out session that may or may not change everything. (2.1k)

After the Curtains (M): As per my last fic, I need these scenes to keep going! This takes place after Wilhelm shuts the curtains in episode 5. (1.2k)

Works in progress

Good Omens

The Second Coming and Other Heavenly Tales (T): Aziraphale is the new Supreme Archangel of Heaven, and he's made a huge mistake. As Aziraphale navigates a tricky heavenly web, Crowley tries to find a way forward - is there one? - while being periodically interrupted by wishful Bentley songs and transmissions from Alpha Centurai. Can the ineffable duo save Earth from "Plan C?" Will the ducks in St. James' park ever get the good bread again? Join my headcanon for season 3 to find out! (16.5k, 15/20)

[bullet-prooflove]

5+1: In Sickness & In Health (Joe Velasco x Reader)

5 Times You Took Care of Joe Velasco and the 1 Time He Took Care of You Series

Tagging: @houseofstratton  @plaidbooks   @misscharlielulu   @witches-unruly-heart   @shay-o-fiction   @kimm4710   @ednastvincent   @storiesofsvu    @magic-multicolored-miracle    @rosaliedepp     @cycat4077   @crazy4chickennuggets   @cixrosie    @202rosebudd    @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​   @themisunderstoodblackswan

Part 1: Chokehold

Part 2: Ice Pack

“Hey, you didn’t have to come over.” Joe muttered, his head resting on the door of his apartment as he peered at you through the gap. His dark hair was dishevelled, jutting up in all directions. His usually bright green eyes were dull and red rimmed. The tip of his nose was pink and sore as were the edges. There was a plaid blanket wrapped around his shoulders, clasped in place with one hand.

“You’re sick.” You reminded him with a kind smile. “I brought soup and cough medicine.”

“The place is a mess.” He told you, swallowing hard against the roughness in his throat. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Let me worry about that Jose.”

It was his name rolling off your tongue like that, that shattered his resolve. He was so used to taking care of himself, to being strong. He hated to show any vulnerability but right now he felt like hell, and you weren’t just anybody.

Over the year you had been working together, you had gotten under his skin; he wasn’t sure how it happened. It had started with the ice pack and evolved into something more, a cup of coffee or a snack when you could see he was flagging, always something healthy because you noticed he never bought anything from the vending machine. Offering him a ride home when you saw he was too exhausted to ride his bike back from the precinct. Then there were the light touches when you wanted his attention, the brush of fingertips along the back of his hand, a palm between his shoulder blades. Your floral scent in his nostrils when you leaned in over his shoulder to study a file.

Over drinks he’s told you things he’d never told anybody else, about his dad and the belt, the way he still tensed when he heard the crackle of thunder because it reminded him of the night his father almost killed him. You had threaded your fingers through his, your thumb caressing the back of his hand. It was the most intimate he had been with anyone. Sure, he had fucked his way around New York but real emotional intimacy, the type he craved, it only came with you.

That was why he let you in in the end because you saw his vulnerabilities, you didn’t judge them as weaknesses.

The apartment wasn’t a mess, it was far from it. There was a mug on the coffee table, some pain killers. Dishes on the draining board. It wasn’t as neat as it usually was but by your standards it was still pretty tidy. The game was on in the background, you didn’t do sports so you couldn’t work out the teams.

“Have you eaten?” you asked as you set the bag down on the kitchen counter.

Joe retreated to the couch, groaning as he settled himself. You poured the chicken soup into a bowl; it was still steaming when you brought it over to Joe and setting it down on the coffee table. He shuffled on the couch making room for you before picking it up and taking a spoonful.

“You don’t have to take care of me you know?” he said hoarsely. 

“Someone has to.” You reminded him, grasping another blanket from the back of the couch and tucking it over both yours and Joe’s legs.

“I don’t get you.” Joe muttered, sagging back into the couch, his eyes flickering closed. “Don’t get why you’d come here and risk getting sick.”

“Because I actually give a shit about you.” You informed him, patting his knee gently. His hand came to rest on yours, thumb tracing over the tattoo on your wrist.

“Good.” He mumbled, burying his face even further into the couch cushions. “Because I give a shit about you too.”

Love Joe Velasco? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[billowyy]

Our Flag Means Death Fic Recs 5

Here are some of my favorite fics I've read. Go read and give these creators some love! Other recs

An Ever-Fixed Mark by sunspeckfreckle (childrenofthesun) @sunspeckfreckle (Ed/Izzy)

"Well, he's your husband," he said, like that was something completely normal to say. "He's a rather vital aspect to your marriage, I would have thought."

Ed boggled at him. "What? Izzy and I aren't married."

Stede makes an incorrect (?) assumption about Ed and Izzy's relationship, which helps Ed make some discoveries about his feelings for Izzy. Other discoveries are made along the way and it ends in such a lovely way. I looooove this fic. I usually don't like miscommunication but this was so well done. I love these guys.

I once believed love would be black and white (but it's golden) by Quaker_Kitchen_Witch @quaker-kitchen-witch (Stede/Ed; Stede & Alma)

Stede and Ed are having a baby and Alma is having some feelings about it.

Modern AU! Trans Stede! A really lovely fic with lovely Stede and Alma moments.

At Home with You by Milien_the_Gremlin (Ed/Izzy)

"It's time for Izzy to take care of Edward for once, which is totally new to him."

Tender!!! Izzy goes to Edward to spend some time together, and finds that Edward is the one who needs to be taken care of. They love each other! Soft!

Between the chorus and the verse by emzash (Ed/Izzy)

Ed and Izzy's marriage is rocky, to say the least. Ed realizes he needs and wants to be a better husband for Izzy and, well, he's getting there. They'll be okay.

OHHH I loved this. Izzy has friends! I love when he has people. Ed loves him!!

[femboyflowerfae]

🍬☘️🐇 intro:

🌸 Hi, I’m Nellwyn! (pronouns are he/they/fae/bun)

I follow from @0th3rw0rldly-art

rb to be mutuals

💚 Likes/interests:

(Italicized + bolded = special interest or major hyperfixation)

making visual art (traditional and digital)

singing, songwriting/recording, playing guitar

fantasy media + worldbuilding

animated media

learning about visual art/design and fashion through history

queer history and culture etc

dream/indie pop

eclectic pagan witchcraft (more about my practice below)

fairy tales and folklore/mythology

vaporwave (music + aesthetic)

pastel aesthetics

fairy kei

y2k design

light academia

old web finds

fairycore and fairy stuff

art deco/art noveau

iridescent/holo things

crystals

flowers, plants, mushrooms

gardening/horticulture

cooking/food

room decorating and organizing

retro and vintage finds/thrifting

toy/doll/figurine collecting

the beach/seascapes, marine life

comics and manga and visual storytelling in general

1980s new wave/pop/rock music

psychedelic stuff

tattoos and body mods

makeup art and nail art

2000s kid nostalgia

sociopolitical issues (I’m an anarchist)

💚 Fandoms/media:

Animated media in general, Studio Ghibli (especially Howl’s Moving Castle!), Stardew Valley, Good Omens, The Good Place, Lord of the Rings, Over the Garden Wall, Avatar the Last Airbender/Legend of Korra, Our Flag Means Death, Pose fx, Moon Knight, Merlin, Gravity Falls, Queer Eye, MCU, What We Do In The Shadows, Sanrio, Steven Universe, The Umbrella Academy, Stranger Things, Euphoria, Derry Girls

💚 Music:

The Cure, Lil Nas X, Tyler the Creator, Jack Stauber, Will Wood, Ricky Montgomery, Led Zeppelin, Glass Beach, The Smiths, Kate Bush, Tally Hall, Depeche Mode, Wham!, Tame Impala, Marina Diamandis, Nirvana, 100 Gecs, The Beatles, Candy Claws, Arctic Monkeys, Tears for Fears, Macintosh Plus, All Time Low, Mitski, Dorian Electra, PinkPantheress, Dayglow, Ashnikko, Kero Kero Bonito, Mother Mother, Blackbird Raum, Crystal Castles, Beach House, Puzzle, etc

💚 Other stuff

I am one of several cohosts/frequent fronters of a diagnosed DID/plural system.

fave colors: green, pink, pastels

ESFJ, enneatype 9-2-6

genderqueer/androgyne femboy, gay/queer/sappho-achillean (gay for all genders 🤷), polyamorous, arospec

Neurodivergent (moderate support needs autistic/ADHD/etc) and physically disabled

Anarchist leftist (anarchocommunist?) with a focus on intersectionality

from the southern USA

Anti fascist, anti capitalist, anti imperialist, pro landback, pro prison/police abolition, pro choice, anti-white supremacy, anti-racist, ACAB, pro queer inclusivity (of all good faith identities including the “contradictory” ones), pro queer liberation, pro disabled liberation, pro neurodiversity, pro BLM, pro intersectional feminism, pro protecting the environment, anti transmedicalism

💚 Witchy stuff

Eclectic pagan witch (not a baby witch, but I’m also nowhere near an expert)

I do a mix of kitchen magic, natural witchcraft, elemental magic, traditional witchcraft, folk magic, sigilcraft, spellwork, tarot, spirit work, spoonie witchcraft etc. Lately trying to learn about various practices under the Celtic umbrella, Hellenic polytheistic practices, and Appalachian folk magic.

Deities I’m interested in: Apollo (primary deity), Hestia, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Persephone, Artemis, Demeter, Gaia, Hekate, Aine, Cerridwen, the Dagda, Lugh, Brigid, Cernunnos. I’m also interested in working with various nature spirits + other spirits/entities.

[evita-shelby]

I check your blog often and I've requested Dad Tommy twice. I think it's only fair I ask for your oc Eva with her two girls. Mommy Eva sounds like a hell of a woman.

The Girls

The last part is inspired by this bad romcom i saw last night called Don’t blame Karma/que culpa tiene el Karma where a sister believes she's cursed after her sister stole her birthday wishes when they were little

Gif by @hellomadelene

Diane is four when she hugs her hard enough to make her wince.

“Florence.” She pressed a kiss on Eva’s stomach and pronounced her sister’s name.

“See, she loves her already.” Tommy points out.

If only things had stayed that way.

Arrow House is their Castle and up until 1930 it had only one princess.

And Princess Diane hated ceding her whimsical nursery for a new girl.

She had demanded the adjoining bedroom not because it was close,but because it was the second biggest one.

Eva had assumed Charlie would be the one to get jealous. He had been so intensely jealous of Gabe that they had been a little worried given he had inherited Eva’s penchant of throwing things and Tommy’s strength.

But he had taken to Gabe like a fish to water and hardly had any issues with each other.

Unlike their sisters.

“I didn’t want a sister! I wanted Polly!” Diane had kicked and screamed when they came home with Florence. There was no Polly just a red faced baby girl who’d begun crying as if she understood what her big sister had said.

Diane’s ninth birthday is celebrated in the Tea Lawn.

Arrow House has almost as many gardens as the Chapultepec Castle and the National Palace combined. There is a walled garden, a wildflower garden near the plant nursery, a kitchen garden, a tiny vineyard, an arbor garden, a flag garden and even a fish garden near the ponds and the tennis court.

Tommy had heard about the gardens before he even knew how big the house is.

You could get lost here, he had said as they explored it in 1922.

And sure enough, four year old Florence had gotten lost.

Eva immediately knew something was up when Diane spirits her sister away and neither come back in the next ten minutes.

They get along most of the time, not as bad as that first year where Diane proclaimed she’d hate Florence forever and ever.

“Mami, I lost her in the maze. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I lied and said her birthday gift was inside of it---” Diane has never lost a person before.

Eva regrets telling her the story of the minotaur. Who would’ve thought Diane would resort to scaring her five year old sister with it?

The little witch was a work of generations and luck, she always knew where to find people, even Gabriel who Eva sometimes couldn’t feel on this plane of existence.

To lose Florence who’s aura was as strong and as easy to spot as Tommy’s, it was catastrophic for her.

“It’s going to be okay, Dia, I’m sure Flora knows the way out.” Eva told the girl in her big pink dress.

Always princesses.

Eva dreads when she discovers mythology, Eva had wanted an Aztec themed party complete with fake human offerings when she was twelve to everyone’s horror.

Olivia had then made her change her mind by giving her a fairy themed party complete with fake butterfly wings for her to wear.

And sure enough Flora is right there with Tommy who had slipped away sensing trouble.

Diane is so relieved and glad that Flora wasn’t eaten by the made up monster. But Florence was not so easily mollified by her apology.

No, Flor was planning something.

She was as petty as her and as calculating as Tommy.

Eva needs to stop it before it happens, but Thomas stops her on her tracks.

“She told Flora the minotaur eats children and she ran out when she was looking, Duke found her crying in the kitchen gardens.” Tommy explains as the children play like nothing happened.

“She’s scheming, I can feel it, Tom.” The witch told her husband as she saw Duke watch his baby sisters like a hawk.

“Let her, Diane shouldn’t have done that. It’s healthy for them, and we’ll make sure neither hurt each other. Even Johnny Dogs is on his guard.” He favors Flora, he thinks she doesn’t know who his favorite child is, but she can see it like all those little things no one else knows about him.

Eva could admit that she was a little biased towards Gabe, mostly because he reminds her so much of his late uncles. He was like his namesake, quiet and thoughtful and with a gift for art.

If he liked boys and bull riding, he’d be just like Alan.

Everything is quiet, too quiet. Like the ocean before a great storm.

Then the great big cake ---all cakes at her events are marvelous works of art--- is brought out with its nine candles.

Nine whimsical golden candles ready for the birthday girl to blow.

Except the wrong girl blows them.

“I’ve stolen all your wishes!” Florence laughs as Diane begins chasing her.

“I’m glad we stopped at four.” Tommy tells her as they scrambled after them.