⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ there are things 𝐲 𝐮 𝐧 𝐚 remembers clearly. her 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, warm and stained with herbs, paper charms drying above the 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫. the sound of 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 against the windows while lantern light turned the room golden. there are things she 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. the 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. the way a goodbye can stop halfway and leave a person 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, how silence can feel louder than 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟. the shop still stands where it 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 has. during the day she sells 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 to the living. 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 for safe journeys, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐛 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 meant to quiet uneasy hearts. people are 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐲 around her. they rarely stay long. a small 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭-𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 rests against her throat, worn smooth by restless fingers. she 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 opens it in front of anyone … ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀… after closing, she lights 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞. sometimes 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 come asking for one more conversation. 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞. one more chance to 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 what was left unsaid. yuna never asks for 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲. the price is always 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞. she tells herself she only opens 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫. she tells herself she never pulls anyone 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. still, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 linger longer than they should. there are things yuna 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 remembers clearly. the sound of her 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫, how it feels to stop listening, whether she is helping anyone — 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. and every night, when the shop finally goes quiet, she waits for 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 … ❞
۶۟ৎ ⠀𝐬 𝐨 𝐟 𝐭 𝐥 𝐢 𝐧 𝐠 𝐞 𝐫 .ᐟ a young witch and necromancer living in a quiet riverside town where everyday magic is ordinary and death is something people prefer not to speak about. she inherited her mother’s small charm shop, selling gentle remedies and protective talismans amongst other things by day, while secretly offering forbidden rituals after dark — brief, costly encounters with the dead for those unable to let go. behind her back door lies a world unable for humans to reach, a world where she feels seen and at peace. soft-spoken and seemingly kind, yuna walks the fragile line between comfort and consequence, carrying her own unfinished grief while helping others confront theirs. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ woven together by forbidden threads with junseo.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐝
