Title: Desecrated Places, Lonely Faces, and You
Author: Harper Kingsley
Original Fiction
Genre: urban fantasy, dark fantasy
Rating: mature(?)
Summary: “There was blood on the sheets.” I don’t know. What is this even? Just enjoy and discover the ride.

*

There was blood on the sheets.

It painted faces against the age-thinned cotton. The impressions of arms and legs, of broken bones and shattered dreams.

She feels like she’s just been let free. It’s looking to be a brand new day.

“Where will we go?” her voice comes out little girl soft, hushed in the temple-like silence of the room.

His hand is warm where it comes to rest against her naked shoulder. “Anywhere you’d like, cupcake. The world is yours to command, and I will be your arm, your sword, your everything.”

“My valiant hero?” She smiled, a shallow curve of her lips. “Will you be my knight in bloodstained armor?”

“Anything that your heart desires.”

Yes, she thought. This would work.

“Let’s take a shower. There’s no reason to bring this… mess… with us.” She led the way into the master bathroom. She’d never been allowed in there before. It was just as beautiful and princess-like as she’d always imagined.

She stepped into the shower, crooking her finger until he followed, as docile as a favorite pet. Only this pet had fangs, claws, and a willingness to bite.

Turning on the water — hot, hot, steamy hot water, which had always been “too good” for her — she felt happy. For the first time in a long time she was free. Her life was hers to do with as she pleased, the iron collar abandoned back in the room with her master’s dead body.

She reached for the soap. “Bend down. I’ll wash your back.”

He looked at her, eyes dark with love, and sat on the shower floor, turning so his back faced her. There were the ghosts of lash marks pressed into his skin, beautiful lines of faded gray against the smooth muscle. She had to touch them, tracing her fingers up and down the ridges before following the straights from one side of his spine to the other. He’d been hurt before, by unkind masters, just as she’d been.

“I will treat you so well,” she whispered into his ear, pressing her chest against his back. She liked the image they presented, flesh against flesh, blood red turning to pink as it washed away down the drain. “I will take care of you.”

“And I will give you the world,” he promised.

“Yes.”

It seemed so easy. They had all of forever to make their way. With the cold iron gone from her neck, she could feel the spirit of the world flowing back into her veins, the old power reigniting itself deep within.

She would keep him, this man-mountain, and she would tumble death to tie him to her. For gratitude, for grace, and for what might be the beginnings of love, she would rescue her rescuer and keep him safe.

Queen Titania scrubbed her knight’s skin with a pale green loofah and let the fire begin burning in her heart. She was ready to set the mortal world ablaze. Ready to be free.

=THE END=

The Way of the Househusband 01 at Amazon
1 comment on "Letters: Trust myself in you."

I love to write. There’s something beautiful and wonderful about words, a magic that goes much deeper than pen, ink, or a digital image on a screen.

It is unfortunate, but words don’t really pay a whole lot and the human body needs food to live. The brain is a story producing engine that requires fuel — food, sleep, a surcease from stress. And lately I have felt very run down and afraid.

I am fairly open about my mental health issues. It’s not something I feel a need to hide — I might not wear the tee shirt, but I’m not ashamed either.

There is a part of me that is desperately afraid of attention and success. I want to do well in life, but at my core I feel as though I need to be punished. I do not deserve love or comfort; I should live in squalor and do without food or sleep.

I cannot explain the part that hates myself. That’s why it’s called a mental illness. There’s something living in my brain and it is mostly outside of my control.

It makes me afraid of people. Even with all of the love in my heart, I cringe away from those I care about. One day vivacious and alive, the next a dull and empty shell.

I wash my hands compulsively. I cringe away from the sound of people eating. My skin breaks out in sweat when I notice the eyes of strangers LOOKING at me.

I cover myself in heavy layers and I hate, hate, HATE the things other people think of me. With a single look my whole day can be ruined, and I don’t know why my fears affect me so.

My mood shifts and change, taking my personality with it. Open and alive, joyous in every moment. Frenetic energy, destructive need to please. Cold fear and quiet despair, sucked down into the darkest depths of melancholy: Why am I still here?

Each day is an adventure in finding out who I am and who I’m going to be. Happy-go-lucky party girl. Wailing banshee with a mouthful of profanity and rage. Shy introvert struggling to hold on. Or blank automaton sleepwalking through the hours, unable to even care.

I try not to let my mental illness control me, but that’s part of its sick trick. It holds me captive in my own skin, unable and unwilling to ask for the help I need. “I can handle things alone. I don’t need anyone. Today is going to be a good day. I can’t let anyone see what a mess I am. I don’t deserve help anyway.”

* * *

It’s sad, but I can’t trust myself. My own brain fights against me. My moods are a liar.

That said, I love to write. I am filled with stories of other places and people. And as my mood shifts and bends, wonderful characters are created and born.

Would medication take them all away?

I do not trust myself to take care of me. How strange is that? How frightening, to wonder if I will come back to myself and find my life in ruins — it’s happened before, it will happen again. I am an explosion caught in time, already ignited and waiting to burn.

The only thing I have of worth is my words. They’re the only constancy about me, my only means of displaying my love — for life, for me, for you.

And so I write my stories and I send them out into the world. It’s the way I say “I love you. I cherish you. I want you to love me too, just don’t say the words or I will run away.”

Kimichee, AO3, LJ — it makes me happy to post my stories and see them read. Even knowing that I should not give all of myself away for free, I cannot help myself. I love so much with my words. I just want people to see the real me, even if it’s only on occasion, even if it’s only parts of me.

So I write and write, and I share and share. And I’ve accepted that that’s who I’m destined to be.

And I trust myself to all of you. That those who love my words will buy my books even if they can get the words for free.

Because at the end of the day I am only human. And humans need food, water, clean air and sunshine, a place to lay a weary head, clothes and shoes to wear, and the peace of knowing that when I leave with my mind someone will make sure my body does not die.

I cannot trust myself. So I will trust you.

Thank you.

Love,
~ HarperWCK

The Way of the Househusband 01 at Amazon
0 comments on "Movie: Scandal Makers [Korean]"

Title: Scandal Makers
Directed by: Kang Hyeong-cheol
Written by: Kang Hyeong-cheol
Starring: Cha Tae-hyun, Park Bo-young, Wang Seok-hyeon
Running time: 108 minutes
Language: Korean

Summary borrowed from Wikipedia: Former teen idol Nam Hyeon-soo (Cha Tae-hyun) who thinks he is pretty popular is now in his thirties and working as a radio DJ. A young woman named Hwang Jeong-nam (Park Bo-young) sent stories about her being a single mother to the radio station Hyeon-soo worked at, telling him she is going to meet her father. When he finds out that he is the father of Jeong-nam when she comes to his apartment with her son Ki-Dong (Wang Seok-hyeon). He also finds out that Jeong-nam was his first love’s name and the other Jeong-nam’s real name is Jae-in. Jae-in and her son, Ki-dong.

My thoughts: This is a cute and funny movie with one of the most adorable child stars I’ve seen in a while. Seriously, Wang Seok-hyeon is great as 6-year-old Ki-dong.

There are some touching moments, some slightly cringe-worthy moments, but mostly this is a fun and heartwarming movie.

One of the best scenes: When they’re in the police station. That was good.

* * *

If the video does not display, watch on Hulu.

Or watch it on Amazon. (Currently available free for Amazon Prime members.)

All Systems Red at Amazon

This one goes out to Katherine. She’s a wonderful patron and friend from Patreon.

Title: CONQUISTADORE
Author: Harper Kingsley
Original Fiction
World: Being Blaise
Genre: drama
Rating: mature(?)

–

He’s not a bad guy. At least, he doesn’t think he is. He’s just someone that knows how to take care of himself in any situation. He’s not the kind to leave an opportunity unplucked.

There’s always been a hunger in him. A boundless need to survive. No matter what test was thrown at him, he always fought to the very end. It was one of those things that kept him special: pure.

Sometimes he feels a genocidal fury. The echo of his people at home, their fierce warrior spirit and their need to subdue, conquer. He hates that part of himself. That sour evil persona that rode in his skin.

He needed to get away from the temptation. He needed to start somewhere new and fresh.

He needed just one chance.

So when he found the letters from the delightful Smith family, he was happy to take the call. It felt like destiny. Everything he ever wanted neatly wrapped up in a bow.

A new name. A new life. A great opportunity.

*

The Family is a strange one. They smile at him so brightly and pull him into their home. He forces himself to put on a bright persona, one of such saccharine sweetness that it nearly turns his teeth. He is willing to do anything to stay in this much sweeter country, even act the fool.

He is enrolled in school. He gets a job stocking shelves in a grocery store.

He had been a ruler of men, and now he was mopping floors and reading books. He had never been happier.

It’s why he chose the name Blaise Lumineer Andrews for his new life. It displayed his enthusiasm and just the right amount of gaudy ridiculousness to brighten his mood.

*

He slipped his way through every bit of their life. He became serpentlike and sly, spreading himself out until they had no choice but to accept him.

He became one of the centers of their world. They LOVED him, and he knew it well.

Which is why it was such a shock when they abandoned him at a mall and disappeared. He was a smart man, he could have figured out where they were. But he also had the common sense to accept what had happened.

He’d been abandoned.

Again.

It hurt to know how many times it had happened and how many times it would probably happen again. People come and people go, and they would always leave him behind with a shallow goodbye.

Blaise hugged himself for ten minutes straight.

Then he went and got wasted, shoving off the grasping hand of amorous would-be lovers. He didn’t have any kind of skin-hunger at the moment. He only wanted to be left alone.

To wallow in the loneliness of knowing that he was alone in a country far from home. The only people that he’d had to cling to in this strange place had thrown him away.

He’d get along, he always did.

*

The man in the mirror was a shadow of someone he used to know. He doesn’t even have that name anymore.

He works so hard everyday, but it never feels like he’s getting anywhere. There’s never enough money and there’s a growing sense of helplessness that he hates.

He’d spent a childhood scrabbling in the muck with his aunt at his side, so he feels like he should be managing better. His aunt is long gone and it’s just him now, which makes everything different.

Poverty was the reason he’d turned to crime in his first life. But he’s trying to be someone new this time. He wants to make a different choice.

It’s just hard sometimes.

He’d get a spark of temptation when his stomach was gurgling and he was eating ramen out of the pan.

Back in the old days he’d still be eating ramen, but at least he hadn’t had to be the one to cook it. There’d always been a bitchboy or two running around, ready to fall all over themself to please him.

He missed having minions and lackeys. He missed the hustle and bustle and NOISE of having other people around.

He hated living alone.

At least when he’d been a villain he’d had company and someone to take care of him. But now he couldn’t even afford the cheapest of Companions.

Being Blaise was harder than he would have thought.

=THE END=

STORY PROMPT => Tungee (American Dad) isn’t actually an orphan boy, not in the way that he presented himself. He’s really a guerrilla fighter that found some letters and tricked his way out of a warzone.

He’s not a bad guy. At least, he doesn’t think he is. He’s just someone that knows how to take care of himself in any situation. He’s not the kind to leave an opportunity unplucked.