Put A Spell On Me (a verkwan fic)

Chapter One: Teleportation and Other Strange Happenings

A/N: a quick forenote just to clear up some things. i have no idea where this story is set. i didn't even have a clear idea of the setting in my head. perhaps a small town somewhere in korea. perhaps its a place somewhere entirely made up. who knows? i do throw in a lot of references to korean culture and food and kpop, so there's that. 

characters have the same age differences, but for hansol to run his own store it would make sense to age him up a few years. you don't have to imagine it if you don't want to. most other character facts are canon.

expect short author's notes like these either at the start or end of each chapter. i didn't put a mature rating on this but i also won't forget trigger warnings if they need to appear either, don't worry i gotchu

this fic is also available on archive of our own if you prefer reading stuff over there, the link is in my profile. feel free to message me on tumblr, twitter, or instagram, all @cherrycarat.

updates every two to three weeks!

Hansol had opened up the shop on a whim. His mother, one of the more famous witches in this part of the country, had given him enough of her magical knowledge before leaving him out in the real world by himself, as many witches prefer to do with their children. With nothing much else to do in his life, he rented a small shophouse on the quiet side of town, filled the shelves with spell books and jars of herbs, moved his furniture upstairs and hung up a sign above the storefront: The Eclectic Wiccan's Shoppe.

Of course, Hansol knew being a witch was nothing like in the movies. He didn't fly around on a broomstick with a wand cursing people. Being a witch was more like quietly casting luck spells surrounded by candles and crystals on a full moon night. At least he was lucky enough to have a black cat.

When setting up the shop, he noticed that the storefront actually had a large window, but Hansol being Hansol decided to cover it up by plastering an unbelievable amount of posters on the glass.

In- store Tarot Readings!

Dozens of modern and antique spellbooks inside! Come and browse sometime!

Herbs, crystals, potions – we've got it all!

Ridiculously colorful backgrounds and cheesy catchphrases weren't really his thing (if he had to describe his "thing" it'd probably be dark colors and, well, less cheesy catchphrases) but he knew his town well enough and he knew it'd attract people.

The thing is, his shop seemed to attract only certain types of customers. Not everyone who walked past a shop that had the word 'wiccan' in the name was going to want to enter. After a while of tending to the shop, he began to notice certain stereotypes in the people that came in.

His first customers were just curious passers-by. These people didn't really match a certain type; they were just wondering why this strange store was next to the nail salon/waffle hut they usually visited. Sometimes they'd come in and browse cautiously through the labeled bottles on the shelves. Some would ask skeptically if they actually worked before leaving, and others would have to be convinced by Hansol before they actually decided to buy anything.

Second came the superstitious middle aged women. These old ladies usually wandered in asking if they could have their fortunes read or if Hansol had any charms they could hang around the house that would ward off bad spirits (for the record, he could do both). Sometimes they'd stay for a chat, talking about their adorable grandchildren or their sons who didn't seem to visit enough, and Hansol would pour them a cup of lemongrass tea and tell them that things would be okay. Even if it took up most of his afternoons, at least they left extra tips in the money box.