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dellalyra · 1 year

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𝐑𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

pixie says: i got him i got hydro daddy so here’s some celebration fluff ft my babies the Melusine’s.

Imagine Neuvillette coming to you, a small box in his hands and a Melusine skipping alongside.

You had been close to the Iudex for a very long time, two of the eldest beings in Fontaine. The Hydro Dragon and the leader of the remaining Naiads were bound together by fate - spirits and embodiments of the nation’s elements. Although he posed now as the Chief Justice, as you as a florist - you maintained that friendship from all that time ago.

However, his arrival at the beach you would always sit on after work with his small companion, Liath - you recognised - was unexpected. The fact he knew where to find you was enough to set your heart alight.

“Madame Y/N, please do excuse our interruption - I hope we are not intruding?” Neuvilette asks, poised as ever.

“Nonsense, Neuvilette. Come, sit. Hello Liath, how has your day been?” You say, patting the space your large cloak has been spread out on the sand.

Liath immediately pulls Neuvillette by the hand and they sit down beside you, the Melusine immediately climbing to sit on the man’s lap and the soft smile on his face makes your stomach feel warm and fluttery.

“I’m afraid I must ask for your assistance, it appears a skill of yours has eluded my talents. A skill in which Liath is currently searching for.” He says.

“Oh? How can I help?” You smile, turning to sit facing them.

“Liath came to me today, mentioning how much she admired the style you wore your hair in several days ago - however, I am not well versed in the art of braiding.” He says, face extraordinarily serious for a man asking for braiding advice.

“Oh well that is something I can help with! You want your hair to be like mine, Liath?” You ask, patting her small hand.

She nods and turns to Neuvillette who passes her the box on his right. Her small hands present the blue box tied with a blue ribbon to you and you unravel the bow to find a ridiculously excessive amount of hair clips, bows, ribbons and bands laying underneath a silver soft bristled hair brush.

“I was not entirely sure of what accoutrements you would need for this endeavour, Madame, so I collected everything I could think of. I do hope the brush will suffice, it is my own.” The man says, resting his cane against his leg as Liath crawls from his lap into yours.

“This is more than enough, I could braid the hair of every Melusine in Fontaine with all of this!” You smile.

“Can you do my hair like yours, please? The one long plait with a big ribbon at the end?” The darling on your lap asks.

“Of course, sweetling. Monsieur, sit closer - I will teach you how to do this in the event I’m ever occupied.” You say, patting the space beside you, to which obliges and shifts to sit at your side.

You pointedly ignore the hammering in your chest when the breeze wafts his scent toward you: sea salt, fresh air and something cool and calming.

You begin to brush the Melusine’s hair, soft gentle strokes removing any tangles and easing a path for the style.

“So you just gather hair as you go along, make sure you have three strands - and you overlap them like so, see? If it’s tighter, it will last longer - however I find if they’re too tight it tends to give me quite the headache so I’ll do it nice and loose for this little angel.”

Neuvillette watches your fingers weave through the silky strands and deftly manoeuvre it to your will - or rather - Liath’s will.

“And ta-da!” You say, securing the soft pink ribbon at the end.

Liath reaches up and feels her hair, before looking at the small compact mirror you produce from your bag and smiling.

“Oh thank you so much! I look almost as beautiful as you now! Papa - doesn’t it look pretty!” She spins toward the man beside you.

“Beautiful as a pluie lotus, dearest.” He responds.

“I’m going to show Sedene!” She scampers off toward the Palais, leaving you with the Iudex.

Somehow - this became routine. Every day, Neuvillette and Liath would show up to your spot on the beach, or your florist as it rains - and you would fix the hair of the Melusine. However, the second day - Sedene joined too. Then Aeife, then Elphane, then Blathine and soon you had a gaggle of giggling Melusines decorating each others hair in a chain of styling.

“Madame Y/N?” Liath asks about a month into this newfound tradition.

“Yes, sweetling?” You say, finishing up her hair as she turns to curl into you.

“Are you our mama?” She asks, yawning and nuzzling into you.

At this, the Iudex snaps his head from the newspaper he was reading across from you.

“Would you like me to be?” You ask the cuddled up bundle.

“Very much so. You do our hair, and take care of us if we’re not well and give us kisses. And since Monsieur Neuvillette is like our papa - and he thinks you’re beautiful and he feels a lot of love when he looks at you then that would make you our Mama!”

The Melusine has no idea what she’s said.

You snap your head to look at the hydro dragon.

His eyes are wide, newspaper held tighter in his grip as he looks between you and the little gossip.

“Does he now? Well, then - I suppose I am your mama, if you would allow me the pleasure.” You smile, settling a blanket on the sleepy child.

As she drifts off to a well deserved nap - the man turns to you.

“I do apologise, Madame. Liath - I did not expect her to be so free with her words. If my presence makes you uncomfortable I shall take my leave immediately.” His horns seem to droop slightly, and the sky turns a little bit greyer.

“Well - someone had to make a move. After all, I have been waiting for 700 years.” You smirk, shifting to stand and lay Liath on the armchair of your apartment above your shop.

Neuvillette snaps his head to you.

“I - 700 years? That was when -” The man stands up and walks toward you.

“When we met, yes.” You take his hand and pull him to your kitchen - where you can speak without volume concerns.

He looks at you as if you’ve grown another head.

“I have been in love with you since the moment I stormed into your old home with intention of befriending the mighty Sovereign of Hydro.” You laugh, taking your hand and placing it on his cheek to which he subconsciously leans in to - every touch starved ounce of his body singing in delight.

“A Melusine revealing my love for you wasn’t quite my intention, yet I fear my lack of romanticism would have impeded any attempts made by myself.” He says, and you huff a small laugh at him - never giving himself enough credit.

“Yet, as we are here now - I’ll do my utmost. You have enchanted me, body and soul, from the day a young Naiad flung open my doors. I’m sure you’re reasoning for keeping these feelings to yourself are similar to mine - you were far too precious and integral to my life to allow myself the risk of you no longer being a part of it.” He says, stroking a long finger across the rise of your cheek. You agree with him, voicing the same opinion that he was far too meaningful to you to potentially lose, yet you figured he felt for you about 50 years ago - but thought it best for him to figure it all out by himself rather than moulding things for him - given his nature and responsibilities. You can see a trail of shimmer on his lower lashes, this sweet, oh-so sensitive man. You wipe the beginnings of tears from his eyes.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, please don’t cry.” You smile, seeing him grin down at you and the mirth in his eyes lights your heart.

You tilt your head up to him and he cups your face with his large hands.

“May I kiss you, my darling girl?” He asks in the gentlest voice imaginable.

“Please.”

His soft lips press to yours and you feel as if you’re floating in the purest, warmest most divine pool of water as the clarity of kissing your love sets in. The kiss is gentle, romantic and full of pent up longing - the soft swipe of your tongue across his lower lip makes his hand grip tighter on your waist as you wind your hand into the silky white hair cascading down his back.

He pulls away, both needing a reality check - he looks at you as if to ensure you’re real and you smile at him, pecking his lips once more.

“I love you, Neuvillette.”

“I love you, dearest Mate of the Hydro Dragon”

“And we love you both too!”

The cheerful, loud voices of 3 melusine’s make you both jump as they appear at your door - boxes of cakes and sweets in their arms.

“Liath! Wake up! Papa finally kissed Mama!”

#neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x you #neuvilette genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff #fontaine #hydro dragon hydro dragon please don’t cry

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saltwaterburns · 10 months

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as our worlds move on, in this shirt, i can be you

summary: lockwood reminisces about everything you were and everything you won't be

warnings: just sad rambles & stuff i suppose! 😁

pairing: anthony lockwood x gone!reader

a/n: Did el just?? Write angst?? While being an avid angst hater??? Could it be?? Yes. Yes it was. Whipped this baby up in half an hour while doing my bio homework. Ur welcome!!! This was written with a very specific song in mind. The reader isn't necessarily dead? Ghost touched or ghost locked, whatever your heart desires! Some of this text was taken from a tiktok caption i saw in May 😋

"My calendar's stuck on January, the month that you passed, and I haven't changed the sheets on my bed since. But it seems I still somehow find the strength to water the lilies, your lilies, because I know they were your favourite and I can't handle losing another part of you."

He stops scribbling and lets his pen drop to the table, closing his eyes from exhaustion. The hour is late, the silence around him overbearing, but his mind is amiss. His thoughts are like the wild, untameable sea, roaring out again and again and again, come back. Come back, come back, come back.

But you're not coming back. Not when he asks, not even when he asks nicely. Not when he begs, not when he cries. All he's got left of you are memories of fleeting looks, hushed giggles and gentle brushes of hands and lips against each other.

For a moment he thinks he can still smell and feel you. He thinks he can almost imagine your eyes, the mischievous sparkle in them. It's a fleeting moment if anything but it happens, his mind takes him back to when your eyes locked and that's when he realizes everything that's beautiful in the world started with you and the magic you held, the love you sprinkled like pixie dust on everyone you ever met. Then the moment passes quicker than it occurred, and he's left in a world where your touch still lingers, where your fingerprints still exist in the dust adorning his home and where the flowers beside your bed have just begun to wilt. Where the love that you carried has spread further than you could've ever imagined and made new again so many hearts you never broke.

He's left utterly alone in a world where every thing, every sensation and feeling is a constant reminder of you and who you were, who you aspired but never got to be. His mind is plagued by your essence when he wakes and it continues when he manages to somehow fall into a light sleep, his heart heavy with the knowledge that once again he shall wake with a startled gasp as the clock reaches 2 am, his hand reaching for you, only to be met with cold sheets that have long ago lost your scent and your warmth.

His gaze trails over the kitchen and falls to the umbrella holder next to the front door where your rapier, still untouched, resides. The golden hues of the kitchen light reflect back from the shiny blade, pink gemstones glimmering on the handle, and for a second he feels like as if they reflect the sparkle of his tears.

It's so you. Decorating your rapier, the one thing keeping you safe in a world filled with souls both dead and alive with cheap little gems. It's so irrevocably you that his heart leaps in his chest. This almost primal urge to tease you, ask if you want to stick some butterfly stickers onto the blade too arises in him and he gives in to it, turning to face your chair, but the words die in his throat.

He clenches his jaw, squeezing his hands into fists, letting his nails dig crescent shaped marks into his flesh. The pain sobers him up like a bucket of cold water, pushing arising tears back down his tear duct. He refuses to cry.

He refuses to cry because you aren't here to hold him, kiss away the salty tears pouring down his cheeks and muffle the sobs wrecking his body with your lips anymore. You aren't here and it finally dawns upon him. You aren't here and he's alone, just like it seems he's meant to be.

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #george karim #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #lucy carlyle #george karim x reader #lucy carlyle x reader #light angst #or heavy angst?#death mention tw #anthony bloody lockwood #lockwood netflix #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #Spotify

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mechazushi · 4 months

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Kaiju Number 8 AU ideas (Cuz' now I have several :-| ) [mostly KafHoshi flavored]

Genderbend AU: Kafka is a wholesome, supportive, big titty tomboy Blue collar girlfriend and Hoshina is a small titty, punk gf who runs a martial arts dojo and is a closeted manic pixie dream girl who need the emotional support to follow her dreams.

2. OOPS! All Kaiju!: Iharu (bright pink with wings), Aoi (navy blue with armor plating), Haruichi (sea foam green and spikes?/acid?/speedy? just double checked its definitely projectile spikes), and Kikoru (lemon yellow and blade creation/ manipulation) all undergo the same kaiju-ification process that Kafka went through and now he has to act as the Peter B. Parker of the group.

"Yes, you shed like a lizard does. It takes a month and it sucks the entire time. For the love of GOD, don't pick at it until it's ready otherwise you end up with rashes."

You could include Reno in there, I'm sure he'd have a badass design, but I didn't because I want to put him through the same mental downward spiral that I think Hoshina would go through when they realize they're into monsterf*cking.

Reno is just sitting there like "What is wrong with me?" and Hoshina is standing next to him with a blender bottle saying

"Bit of advice? Get over it soon because fighting the post nut clarity is not worth it."

To which Reno asks "How would you know?" as Hoshina's eyes pan over to Kafka who's teaching Iharu how to use his new kaiju tongue to eat out a pint sized ice cream container.

"O-oh...." Reno says as realization dawns on him.

"Yeah" Hoshina says as he smacks his lips, "That could be us right now."

"SI-SIR!"

"Hey, don't act like you weren't thinking it too."

3. Model AU: Mina runs a modeling agency and Hoshina is a talent scout. She sends him to find people that a modeling agency wouldn't typically consider for modeling in an attempt to showcase diversity in a positive light. Not knowing where to start, Hoshina heads to a bar and accidentally meets Kafka. The two talk and it comes up in conversation what Hoshina has been set out to do. As a joke, Kafka makes a bet that Hoshina can't make a garbage man be the next top model. (he's the garbage man in question.)

Kafka and Mina know each other. They fell out of contact when Mina made it into college and Kafka had to help support his grandparents through a rough time. Hoshina then hires Aoi (blasian) Haruichi (top surgery scars) and a delinquent brother-sister duo for the teen division (Iharu and Kikoru, who are orphans being raised by their successful gamer live-streamer older brother Narumi. I'm aware this part's a bit of a stretch, so just consider it a non-essential personal flair.) Reno was already a part of the modeling agency but had started to have problems dealing with body image, which Kafka helps correct and sets him on a healthier path. Iharu and Reno later become actors in a popular Power Rangers knock off show and become a canon couple on and off set.

#kaiju no. 8 #au's #I wrote this on 3 hours of sleep.#the oops all Kaiju one I've had for a while #the rest are more recent #idk I just like the idea of the division getting their own kaiju based Power Ranger superhero group.#With Kafka acting like the “cool sensei”#I.e. he just shows them all the weird sh*t they can do with their bodies now. like rib mouth #I don't know why #but I can totally see Kafka tearing up a catwalk in Balenciaga and glasses.#kafka hibino #soshiro hoshina #reno ichikawa #iharu furuhashi

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eevylynn · 7 months

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You're Good

Sterek || E || Friends to Lovers || 7k wc

“I’m comfortable with my life,” Stiles told Lydia, and he was. He had a job he loved, his pack was safe, and he got to see them regularly. Yeah, there was one thing he would like to change, but there's only so much he can do to change that one thing. Stiles was pretty sure that dating other people wouldn’t help. Or Stiles agrees to let Lydia set him up on a blind date, not realizing who exactly she had in mind.

AN: I realized I never made a full on tumblr post with this..oops!

This was written For L_Grae with the prompts: ~Mutual pining with meddling from the pack. ~Future fic, blind date set up by certain packmates, not realizing Sterek has a FWB agreement already.

Unfortunately, I can't quite write friends with benefits (I gave it a valiant effort, but my brain just couldn't get it right), so I merged the prompts together.

Sterek Valentine's Bingo 2024: Candle

~*~*~*~

Locking the office up with a whistle, Stiles tossed his keys in the air before catching them and shoving them in his back pocket before he turned to walk down the street to the combination coffee and bar that sat a block or so away from his office. He mentally patted himself on the back for that smooth move before abruptly tripping on nothing. Stiles looked around quickly. No one saw that.

That was the one good thing about it getting dark before Stiles even leaves the office at this time. The whole shorter days thing that came with winter coming AND Daylight Savings Time ending at the same time does get somewhat depressing at times, but it’s not like Stiles has never gone around town at night before.

Back in high school, nights were the only times that Stiles could really investigate supernatural happenings what with needing to actually go to school. He always did love a good puzzle to investigate and even contemplated joining the FBI. However, after botching up his own internship with the FBI, Stiles ended up going to college at Beacon Hills Community College. While still in school, Stiles started a side hustle as a Supernatural Private Investigator, and, upon graduation, he was able to devote his time to his growing business, even opening an office in the slowly reemerging downtown area of Beacon Hills.

Thanks to the combined efforts of the local Beacon County packs, the Nemeton was growing healthily again, bringing positive energies with it, something even the everyday humans could feel. Because of this, more people, both supernatural and human, were moving to town and slowly building up the local economy.

Just the short walk between Stiles’ office and Lunar Lounge, his favorite bar and coffee shop, included a boutique one of Stiles’ old classmates opened, a vegan smoothie shop, owned by a nice family of elves that just moved here a few years back, and a greenhouse bookstore whose owners were always more than happy to provide Stiles with any herbs he needed for potions work after he helped them with a pixie infestation that took residence in one of their personal gardens at their house.

The Lunar Lounge was where many of the Hale pack worked. Open practically 24 hours, it served coffee and breakfast for the morning crowd before transitioning into a pub style bar in the afternoons. In addition to providing human beverages, Lunar Lounge also offered a variety of specialty drinks for the different supernaturals of Beacon Hills, including but not limited to wolfsbane infused homebrews, real bloody marys, and a selection of shimmering, almost ethereal, wines that Peter had procured a vendor for that Stiles was pretty sure was fae, but the wolf refused to confirm or deny that suspicion.

Entering the open double doors, Stiles nodded at Isaac who was behind the bar preparing some fancy pink and yellow monstrosity of a cocktail that was most definitely too sweet for Stiles’ liking.

He crossed the open sea of scuffed wooden tables, dodging a pair of colorful haired women that suddenly blocked his path as they stood up to go who knows where. Reaching the back corner, he found Derek at his usual table that he’d probably been sitting at for the last several hours, hidden from most by a black metal staircase that led to a lofted lounge area. Dark eyebrows furrowed as Derek continued to type on his laptop.

As Stiles plopped down in the seat across from him, Derek glanced up before he said, “I’m almost done. Give me a minute.”

Stiles grinned, “You’re good.” Derek smiled before turning his attention back to the screen.

Continue reading on ao3

#sterek #my writing #stiles stilinski #derek hale #eternalsterek #sterek fic #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #sterek valentine bingo #sterek valentine exchange

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justbelievinginmagic · 5 months

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ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 2: never go that way.

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader, soobin x yeonjun, jisung & fem!reader, soobin & fem!reader. series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth. glimpse: abandoned in the desert sea, you take your first steps into your quest where you meet challenges that put your patience to the test and meet a collection of unusual folk - from a frustrating man with quokka-cheeks to a sweet tall blonde and his mysterious seal-fur caped partner. warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, some violence, pixies get squished, some mild injuries, anxiety, world building!!, strong language, faerie lore!!, amnesia, best boy han jisung being a fae menace!!! (we will learn his name later promise but thats Him!) soobin/yeonjun from txt cameo, selkie!yeonjun, changeling!soobin, goblin!jisung. let me know if there is anything else i should tag! word count: 7.3k first chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

The desert sea felt endless. She wasn’t sure how long she’d trudged through the dunes; all she knew was that her shoes (which had thankfully appeared on her feet when she’d been transported) were full of itchy sand. Grains in-between her toes, they scratched at her heels and her soles. It was annoying, but what was more annoying was that every step towards the walled maze didn’t seem to make it appear any closer. In fact, it seemed like it was still so, so far away. It was like an optical illusion; the little walls growing further and further despite her continuous walking. Was this some sort of torture? A brain game? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was growing more and more frustrated.

The area around her was dark; the sunspot she and the King had been transported to was only so large, and the rest of the Underground was dark. Cool and dark. There was a haunting ruddiness in the distance that reminded her of the orange-red glow of fire. As if there was an ever-glowing inferno just out of reach. It was mostly from the floating candles and large roaring fires in the tall look-out posts high above the Labyrinth, she was sure of it. But it didn’t make it less strange.

This whole place was strange. Glancing around with a sigh and a wipe of her brow, she noted the dead twisted plants that spotted the landscape in brown, dry patches. Cacti with withering pink flowers that looked like they would crumble away with a single harsh wind and the odd-shattered stone obelisks jutting out of the sand dunes every so many feet. She paused in her walking, harsh sand squelching in her shoes as she stood and stared around her.

The rockwork she had seen so far were crumbling things, mostly piles of rounded rubble as if they had been destroyed millennia ago. But the further she got through the dunes, the more they began to become sturdy and full things. The one beside her even had an engraving in it – in a language she couldn’t decipher. The letters were curling forms, intricate by design as they crawled down the rock. It didn’t look like any language she had ever seen before.

Everything felt like a dream. Eerie and off-putting with illusions too grand to be real, but standing staring at this tall rock formation… it felt real. It felt like it was historic. Was it a tombstone? Was it a boundary marker? Was it a monument for an old ruler or god? She didn’t know. She just knew it was here, chipping away under desert sand.

Glancing away in the direction she came, she had to admit she had made progress. The sunspot she had left was far in the distance and the once far away walls of the Labyrinth were finally not despairingly far. This was when she noticed another thing: everything crawled towards the Labyrinth.

Dead vines, piling rocks shimmering with magic, withered tree branches, and even the stray night flowers curled and twisted, pointing towards the maze awaiting her. She wondered why. Was it magic? The wind? It was strange there was even wind down here. She shivered as a rush of cold air caressed her skin. Her white long sleeve tunic wasn’t made for the chill of the Underground – it was just enough for the warmth of her heated house. Wrapping her arms around herself, she continued her trek towards the walls.

Once she got there, she had to find an entrance. Surely, that had to be easier than it seemed. But even approaching the thing felt like a mindfuck. As she got closer, she noticed how tall the exterior wall towered above her. It was made of thick slabs of grey rock that didn’t seem magical. But it did seem ancient. The rock was cracked everywhere, aged by the harsh sand and winds it blocked out. The higher the walls grew, the less she could see of the interior maze. She could only hope she could figure a way once inside what seemed like a never-ending twisted path.

There were also watch points every so many feet yet she couldn’t see any guards patrolling. Maybe the King sent them away? Not one of these look-out points looked to be special. They all were of equal height with a roaring flame within the columned center of the watchpoint. Nothing to hint that she should go towards it rather than another.

Just get to the wall, Y/N.

The closer she got to the Labyrinth, the more she saw evidence of civilization. Rather than loose sand, it was packed down by foot traffic and even remnants of what looked like carriages or carts. A post stood beside some sparkling, shimmering rocks – with too many signs to count crawling up the wooden thing, pointing this way and that. Chaotic. Some of the signs had been hand-painted and eroded away until the words were unreadable. Others were carved pieces of wood that were written in that strange language from the obelisk. There was one that read, in red paint, ‘TURN BACK’ pointing towards the Labyrinth.

Great. Very reassuring.

And then, there was a well with sparkling, cracking stonework with once-intricate tiles making up its molding. The thing was full of water, teetering at the edge of the stones, but it didn’t look appetizing. It was murky dark with green algae and clover-like lily-pad structures jutting out of the surface. Small glowing blue creatures that looked like some sort of moth with transparent wings danced about the water, making ripples.

She swallowed – her mouth felt dry. She had to have been walking for an hour?

Squatting down, she looked over the well. It was the first thing she had stumbled upon that wasn’t fully dead. The tiles were aging, but still sparkling with the magic stardust that seemed to radiate magic. Their sparkle gleamed even in the dark cave-light of the Underground. Reaching out, she wiped the dust away from a tile, the grime falling into the water and startling the glowing blue creatures away. There was a hissing sound coming from them like they were cats.

Ignoring them, she looked down at the first tile, realizing it wasn’t just a pretty tile, but a painting. Each one of the stones were a painting she noticed, telling some sort of story. The art style was loose and dreamlike with cool blue and purple tones making up the color scheme. It looked like from the only full tile that it was about a girl and a boy from different worlds. One from the blue, one from the purple. When she blinked, it almost looked like the loosely painted figures were moving.

Scooting over, she tried to figure out the story, but each tile was too cracked and shattered. Each crack revealed a shimmering jewel like substance, almost like diamonds. It was beautiful, but definitely destroyed. She couldn’t tell if it was from the harshness of the desert sea or if it was intentional.

Pushing herself up by her knees, she stood once more and looked over towards the wall only for the thing that was once still a good 15-minute walk away to be right there, only a few feet away! Her eyes widened in surprise, stumbling back into dead foliage that crunched like dead bones beneath her feet.

She wiped her hands off on her pants as she looked back where she came and back at the Labyrinth that now towered over her. Flickering flames painted the area in a warm golden light, almost a mimicry to sunlight. But it never lost its fire-smoke hue, the world painted in an orange-red sunset haze like a filter on a movie.

But it was less dark now and she was glad for it. Walking closer to the wall, she saw no entrance. The thing was cold to the touch with no discernible entrance. Just cracking rockwork with some rotting plants crawling up.

(It made her wonder if this place ever was once flourishing. How could there be so many plants if there wasn’t once water? What had happened she wondered?)

She began to follow the wall, trailing a hand across the cool rock. Dodging white night-flowers and harsh sharpened vines, she continued onwards, hoping to find something, some clue, that would lead to an entrance to the Labyrinth.

The Runner walked on and on, her eyes not leaving the wall as her hand trailed over it. Feeling for something that would feel like a door or a secret. There was nothing, just a cool rock wall with creeping plants. She didn’t know how long she had walked onwards. Her toes felt rubbed raw from the sand but she had to keep going.

It wasn’t until she heard a noise – like someone noisily eating - that she finally looked back over at the desert sea.

There, beside a water well with red stonework rather than purple-blue sparkling tiles, sat a man. A satchel was beside him, with some sort of bread loaf resting on the fabric like it was a make-shift plate.

Someone else! Maybe they knew where to go. He looked humanesque, not a tiny bug like the blue creatures from before. There were no rules with getting help from others.

“Excuse me!” she called, rushing over to them. Optimism flashed through her.

The man turned his head, and she could see only full cheeks. Big food-filled cheeks like a chipmunk. Crumbs of honeyed-bread rested on his pouted lips. And his wide eyes blinked owlishly. Like he had been caught red handed.

“Oh,” he smacked his lips as he chewed and swallowed. “It’s just you,” he said before grabbing his food and shoving the entirety of it in his mouth before standing from his crouched position.

“You know me?” she queried, her voice stuttering.

He began to walk away, loudly chomping. She trailed behind him, brows pursed. He wasn’t super tall, but he definitely held himself with an air of someone who was tall.

He snorted, crumbs tumbling from his pout and falling to the sandy floor.

“Yeah, little human. I could smell you the moment you fell to the Underground.”

Smell? Her hand rose to her nose so she could smell her own skin. It didn’t smell like anything to her, maybe hints of her perfume or soap?

“You can smell me?”

He rolled his eyes as if she was dreadfully dumb.

“Yes, we all can.”

His foot steps quickened as he continued trekking past the wall. Her eyes flickered from him to the wall beside them. God, he was quick.

“Wait!” she called.

He wasn’t extremely tall, but he somehow took wildly long strides. Stumbling over stray rocks, she tried to catch up to him.

“What, Runner?” he sighed as he continued walking.

“My name isn’t Runner – What does that even mean?”

“Do you need everything to be explained to you? Your scent, your title, your-“

Suddenly, small creatures, their size no bigger than a butterfly, flew out of their hiding spots (behind old dry ferns and the lily pads of another tiled-well.) Transparent milky-white wings and glowing trails of what looked like dandelion fluff trailed after them as they swooped down upon the fae-man. Tugging at his long hair, his clothes, scratching at his cheeks.

“Ugh,” the man spluttered out, hands going to swipe at the things. “Damn pixies!”

They crawled and flew over his form, five of them. A soft chittering giggling sound bubbled from the things. He flailed and whacked at the things until with they fell off him with violent ‘ugh’s.

“Fucking pests,” he cursed as he crushed one with the heel of his leathered boot.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, horrified as he smeared the magic-remnant on the dirt floor with a squish. His eyes flashed to meet hers with a raised brow. He looks oddly young with his brow pursed in such a way. Innocent, like a misbehaving kid being scolded before a scowl replaced his soft-eyed expression.

“What?” he grounded out, whacking aside another stray pixie that had tugged at his ear.

“They were just playing!” she defended, a hand going to shield one of the fallen pixies. Her gaze flickered from the smeared sparkling lavender-azure remnants of the squished pixie to the one that she shielded.

It didn’t look as human as she imagined a pixie to look. It had whisp-y white hair that faded off into blue translucent tube-like strands, the appearance resembling glowing fiberoptics. Its wings were paper-thin and an off-white shade that had small bones making up its structure. Instead of humanoid features, its face was flatter with no prominent nose bridge. Their eyes were a glassy fluorescent blue, wide and bug-like. A spider-esque mouth with black tipped pincer-like fangs bared themselves at her before biting the hand that shielded it, right at the juncture of her thumb and forefinger.

“Ouch,” Y/N yelped, jumping away from the creature that hissed out a gargle of a giggle. More monstrous than humanistic. The fae-man silenced the biting pixie with a well-place kicked, making it fly off into the distance.

“Just playing,” the fae-man repeated with a low scolding chuckle. “Are you okay?”

Her non-injured hand held the bitten hand close to her chest. It stung with the same ferociousness as a mosquito bite. Droplets of red blood pearled to the surface but it wasn’t a bad bite. His hand reached out to grasp her wrist, his skin was warm like a furnace. Not hot enough to burn but, certainly enough that if he was human, he’d be running a high fever. He looked over her hand closely and, if she had been focusing on his face, she’d noticed the fascination blurring in his eyes at her red blood. But she wasn’t she was hissing a bit at the wound’s sting.

“I’m fine… I thought they’d be sweet like a fairy?” she admitted. “Pixies are usually playful in stories, mischievous, but I didn’t think they’d bite.”

His eyes rolled before he wiped at her hand with his thumb. She noticed his nails were a painted lacquer; a black shimmering color that had long been chipped away at the edges. There was a beat before he simply looked at the bite’s holes inquiringly before dropping her wrist easily, his cool gold rings grazing her skin.

He laughed. “Sweetness? From pixies? They’re nasty creatures. Mean vermin.”

A noise of acknowledgment hummed in her throat before he turned away once more.

“Wait.” She called, grasping his wrist desperately.

He paused this time, head tilting back as he brought his free-hand dragged through his hair.

“Yes, Runner.” He answered before gently tugging his hand away.

“My name isn’t Runner; it’s Y/N,” she retorted with a furrowed brow.

“I thought so,” he grimaced as he continued to walk along the perimeter of the Labyrinth walls. Another pixie jutted out in front of him, and all he did was grab it and crush it before tossing it aside. As if it was nothing but a bug.

It was startling and a bit frightening. Everything here was like that – if she was being honest. The way he was able to do something so violent when he looked well… so sweet.

The man had a round face with softened cheeks. His doll-like eyes were the strangest shade of blue – in the flame-light, it turned a purplish shade, glistening like a jewel in sunlight. His lips were a pouty thing – with a strong ‘V’ of a cupid’s bow and puckered lower lip that was a soft pink shade. His cheeks even had a prominent glaze of the magic remnant that everything seemed to be made of. Constellations of pink, yellow, green, purple, and blue glittered through his skin, sparkling when it caught the light.

His hair was dark, long and, unlike the Goblin King, it was long in a more un-styled way. Like he simply hadn’t had the time to cut it. It laid in loose waves down his neck, covering his forehead in soft curls. Some curls were damp with sweat and plastered to his golden skinned forehead.

Hidden beneath his blue-black curls, she could see small teardrop earrings sparkling with golden chain and red rubies. But, his clothes lacked such wealth. They were simple – he wore an orange-tan vest that had been patched haphazardly in red, purple, yellow threads over the years, a white flowy tunic that was open chested and pushed up to his elbows to reveal his toned forearms that were shimmering innately with that magical dust as if someone had painted him in body glitter. Rings decorated each finger in a golden halo, sparkling in the firelight.

His pants were a paler sandy color with clear wear-and-tear on the knees and edges. A belt of some sort of leather clung to his slim waist, cinching his form in. It acted as a purse of sorts, holding what looked like a dagger with a rubied hilt in between its leathered folds, a black-woven purse he had been using as a plate moments ago, and, most prominently, a collection of vibrant jewels. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, moonstones, and amethysts. Some of the jewels were hung by worn rope; others strong-linked chains of gold. But each one of the jewels were pretty, sparkling in the overhead firelight.

How did he come to attain them she wondered? He didn’t have the appearance of a king or a prince or any sort of royalty – despite his handsome face. He just didn’t have that magnetic lure that the King had. Power that was unspoken. Walking tall wasn’t the same as a powerful walk.

He felt. . . reckless. Like how a wolf in the wild was nothing compared to a dog kept as a pet. He prowled forward, scavenging onwards and swatting at the remaining milky-white pixies that hovered about him. One reached out to tug on his jewels, making a low growl escape his chest like he was some sort of alligator.

She reached out to swat the pixie away, not squishing or squashing it like he did but just shoving it away. His jewel-toned eyes flashed to meet hers from under his dark oil-slick blue-black curls.

He didn’t thank her, just looked at her with simmering eyes.

“I don’t mean to bother you,” she started.

“Well, you are.” He retorted quick. “You Runners are always so slow to the game.”

“Runner – you said it was my title, there have been other Runners? Are they the ones who make deals?” she queried.

“You’re catching up,” he acknowledged.

“I’m a quick learner,” she retorted back. “Just—do you know where the door to the Labyrinth is? That’s all I need to know. I need to get inside.”

“Hm,” he hummed absent-mindedly. “Oh no, do I know.”

Under his breath, he huffed and shook his head.

“You know?” she repeated.

“Know,” he agreed with a shake of his head again.

It all sounded the same ‘know’ and ‘no’, his head was shaking ‘no’, but did he actually say know? And now, Y/N was even confused.

“Gosh, it’s hopeless asking you things!” she huffed as she turned away and looked up at the sky – the reality she was in another world striking her as she saw the dark cavern stalagmites high above them.

Cracks of sunlight beamed through – shining over the Labyrinth. She realized she could faintly see… flowers. Yes, there were flowers blooming high above them. Those flowers had vines that creeped outwards through the sunlight veins of the Underground’s ceiling, crawling in and out of the stalagmites. Hope in the middle of the darkness.

Her gaze settled back on the rock wall in front of her. In its own thousand-year-old cracks, she could see budding blooms of what looked like magnolias, peach blossoms, and desert poppies. Hope in the middle of darkness.

She needed some hope right now.

“Ask the right things maybe,” the man suggested as he sighed and leaned against the rock nearest to him. A hand rose to wipe at sweat on his brow – how could he be sweating in such coldness?

“How do I get into the Labyrinth?” she mused.

The man paused, a flicker of a grin coming onto his round face. “Now, that I can answer,” he smirked, glancing over at her before pointing with a finger.

“There,” he said simply.

Her eyes followed his pointing finger to find there was a grand gate beside two empty watch towers. The gate’s exterior was decorated with intricately carved vines, twisting, and twirling over the heavy wooden doors.

“See, not a door, a gate,” the fae man chortled.

“That’s so stupid. How was I supposed to know?” she whined.

He laughed again, the thing sounding playfully song-like. “You’ll have to ask the right questions. Think closer next time.”

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. It was like walking on egg-shells in this place. Taking a deep breath, she walked closer to the gates.

“Is there a key?” she murmured.

“Yes,” the man retorted, casually as he leaned against one of the watch towers. He looked awfully amused now, rather than itching to get away like before.

Glancing away from him, she looked over the gate to see an itsy-bity key hole.

“Do I need the gate’s key?” she asked again.

“What do you think?” he queried, looking at her blankly. But the corner of his lips twitched, he was about to grin.

Creeping closer, Y/N pressed a palm against the wooden gate door – and pushed.

With a puff of smoke and the twinkle of sparkling magic-remnant on the gates, the carved vines bloomed their pure-white blossoms before the doors heaved themselves inwards open to reveal the Labyrinth.

Cobwebs tore away with the motion as the plume of smoke tumbled over her and the stranger’s feet. His eyes widened with mock surprise at her before turning to crush a pixie under his foot with a stamp. There was a smear of chromatic glitter when he removed his heel.

The Runner took a soft breath in as she peered curiously into the labyrinth, not yet fully stepping onto the cobblestone path of its interior.

“You’re really going in there?” the stranger prompted, crossing his arms. A brow raised into his curled bangs.

“I have to,” she replied, licking her lips. Glancing towards him, she offered a smile. “It’s the only way to gain myself back.”

Now, that seemed to strike something in the handsome man. His eyes widened genuinely, and he swallowed, poutful lips pursing. His cheeks looked chubby, and for a moment she could understand how fae could be described as cherubic.

“You’re brave or stupid,” he muttered, ruining the moment.

She sighed out. Head falling back in exasperation. He really was pushing her buttons. Regardless, she took a step in, half-ignoring the fae-man for the time being.

Looking left and right, she couldn’t help but feel the creeping tell-tales of anxiety. Sweaty palms, heart rushing, shakiness. It looked endless. Abandoned forever-passageways that seemed to never curve or turn. Their interiors were shadowed occasionally by the flickering of the grand fire-pits high above in the watch towers and the sea of floating candles high above the Labyrinth. The light made sparkling cobblestone walls and floor glimmer and glisten.

“Left or right?” the fae man’s voice piped up again, chuckling as he leaned in and glanced one way and then the other.

“Which way would you go?” Y/N prompted him.

He was of this place – maybe he’d know.

“Neither for me.” The long-haired man snorted. “I don’t know – no point in it anyways,” his fingers reached out to pick up a sparkling rock resting on the uneven floor. Glittery and shiny, he wiped at it with his linen vest.

“You can just leave if you’re going to be like this.” Y/N snapped.

Why was he being like this? Purposely spiteful and misleading one moment, helpful the other minute. She huffed a bit as she tried to find clues to which way to go. Footsteps, signs of life, something.

“Listen,” the dark-haired creature said, taking a step into the Labyrinth after her. “I’m just trying to level with you. Even if you made it there, you’ll never escape. No one escapes the Labyrinth - or the King’s rule for that matter.”

“So, there has been others?” she queried, brows crinkling as she turned her gaze to settle on the man.

He shrugged not even looking at the Runner, his gaze locked onto the rock he found. It was certainly not a jewel or gem of beauty. It did gleam a bit and had something akin to fairy dust trapped within its glassy texture.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He seesawed.

“Have you tried to leave?” she countered, her gaze not leaving him.

It was odd, he was the only person outside of the grand labyrinth she had seen up close. And he was locked out? Far, far away from the castle. Yet he didn’t know which was to go. Was he stuck here too? Had he done something? Was he once in her shoes?

He froze at her words. The fine muscles in his throat tensed.

“No.” he answered solidly. Topic shut. “I’m not a Runner. Listen, all the others failed – I’d give up now; he’s kinder to those who admit weakness.”

The King wanted to be the all-powerful King, she saw that now as the man continued to gather this and that from the walls.

“Well, thanks for nothing.” She trailed off. “I never even got your name.”

He almost looked at her pityingly. He sighed. “You don’t need to learn names down here with your fate.”

It made gooseflesh rise on her arms and neck, and she resisted a shudder going down her spine. If anything, that only proved how she had felt in her bedroom with the King. That her wish was a mistake.

She had to win.

“You’re not very helpful.” She commented again. “Just discouraging.

“I’m being realistic, little human,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve seen many yous before. They all end up with the short-end of the stick.”

She frowned at him purposely. Staring with cruelly hurt eyes.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The fae-man said, hands raising in defense as he backed out of the Labyrinth.

Y/N looked back at him for a moment. He hadn’t stopped looking at her and she couldn’t help but notice the glimmer in his eye. A furrow of his brow. Not in disdain or anger but something contemplative. Before sighing a soft huff and walking off, his jewels clanking with every step.

Her own lips stretched into a gentle grimace. What a strange man. But she couldn’t worry about that now, no. She had to keep going onwards. Looking left and right again, she chose to go right. As soon as she took a few more steps inside the Labyrinth, the gates heaved shut with a groan.

The cobblestone was raised and uneven in places like it had been laid centuries ago and never repaved since. Broken stones rested here and there in stacked piles. The same dried, dead greenery outside of the Labyrinth poked through the cracks here as well, withered roots of dead crawling up the rockwork.

Mushrooms of varying sizes burst forth from the cobblestone walls, finding their homes in the dark corners. They looked unlike any mushroom she had seen – seeming to breath with shuddered breaths of sparkling pollen.

She kept walking.

There were no entrances to other parts of the Labyrinth. There were no doors or corners or parts in the walls from what she could see. It was just a straight path. Forever. She began to run after some time as if that would help make it go faster. Her feet ached from the scratchy sand that still occupied her shoes. It was quiet here; there was only the sound of the soles of her feet hitting rock.

She ran for a while. So long that it almost felt like she was in the optical illusion this time rather than viewing the castle grow further and further. Everything felt like it was repeating. The same crippled plants. The same mushrooms in the same dark corners. The same aching feet. The same pitter-patter of footsteps.

Until she finally came across something different.

In the distance, Y/N could see it. Something in the path. Something on the ground curled over. Panting, sweat dripped down her temple as she paused a few feet away. Her stomach churned.

Lying against the wall of the Labyrinth was a skeleton. A human one she assumed. Curled in on itself as if frozen in time. If she blinked, she could see the muscles, tendons, skin, forming a shell around the stuck skeleton. It looked like her, young and female. They were hiding or sleeping or afraid.

And they were dead.

Cobwebs clung to the skull and she could see caterpillar-like creatures making the eye cavity a home. It made her shiver and run faster.

She couldn’t end up like that.

No, no, no, she had to find a way out.

Running onwards she didn’t see a skeleton again – the only reassuring thing so far. It meant maybe this wasn’t a looping path. As she continued on more and more cobwebs decorated the walls. Huge spiderwebs with intricate patterns were ahead. Sparkling shimmering quilted spiderlace that whistled in the wind. If she wasn’t feeling so frustrated and frightened, Y/N may had stopped to appreciate them or ducked under them. She just swiped at them and continued onwards.

Another spiderweb appeared a few hundred feet away.

She kept wiping at them, avoiding the spidersilk from getting into her mouth as she did so as she ran onwards.

Her arms felt sticky with webs; her feet hurt; her head ached from the repeating cobblestone. She let out a yell as she finally stopped. Panting, with a reddened face, she covered her face with her hands and screeched.

“This place is hopeless,” she scowled as she stopped. It’d been minutes of running straight and straight and straight!

Kicking the brick wall petulantly, she yelped before stumbling to her knees. Her hands went to cup her foot, rubbing it a bit as it throbbed in pain. Tearing her shoe off, sand from the desert sea tumbled out in a cup-full. Her big toe throbbed as she held it close, massaging it with her thumb. Toeing off the other shoe like an over-stimulated child, she kicked it away, making it hit the opposing wall with a thunk. Sand from it tumbled out as well into a small pile.

Wiping strands of hair away from her sweaty face, she leaned back against the wall behind her and looked to the side, heaving and panting as she felt a tell-tale pressure building behind her eyes and nose.

No, no, she won’t cry. She felt like a child. It was humiliating.

It was then she saw a plant staring at her! A plant with a million tiny eyes instead of petals and blooms. She yelped scooting away, her hands scrapping against the rough cobblestone beneath her. All the eyeful plant did was blink, all at once, eerily but not dangerous.

Tugging her hands up from the stone floor, she saw the faint scrapes and inkling of blood rushing to the surface. Another injury. Her eyes burned in frustration before she buried her head into her knees.

First, she walked ages in the desert alone, filling her shoes with sand. Then, she met a rude fae man where she watched him hurt pixies. After that, she got bit by a pixie. Now, she’s stuck walking on and on in one direction nowhere close to getting a real stab at the Labyrinth. And she’s hurt her hands after getting scared by a creepy eye plant.

It was frustrating. She didn’t know what to do and it all felt so so pointless. The scales were stacked against her. How did anyone win?

“Annyeong!”

A cheerful voice chimed and, in that moment, she looked up to see a figure, shading her from the dull light of the Labyrinth.

He was tall, far taller than the Goblin King and certainly taller than the fae she had met outside the Labyrinth walls. He had almost frightened her with how his blonde hair reminded her of the king, but the tone of his voice and the smile on his face was far different from the King’s. In fact, the man looked happy. Gentle. Dimples lit up his face as he outstretched his hand for her to shake. Or to take to stand?

“Huh?” she mumbled.

His smile didn’t cease, and he glanced at his hand with his brown eyes.

She took it to shake tentatively before he yanked her up with a strength that didn’t seem possible in his lanky form. A ‘ugh’ pushed its way out of her.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” he breathed. His smile was sweet she noted as she took him in more now that she was standing. His eyes were a deep chocolate color, and they didn’t seem to be cruel or sparkling or ethereal like the others she had met so far. They were brown, gleaming a bit in the faint golden light of the Labyrinth, but otherwise normal.

“Annie-yeo,” she tried to begin to repeat before he let out a bubbling laugh.

“No, no, annyeonghaseyo – or hi, which is close enough,” he corrected.

A gentle breath left her in relief, glad there would not be a language barrier between the two of them.

“Hi,” she repeated.

“Hi,” he breathed again. “We’ve said hi a lot now. Maybe we should continue to something else,” he teased. He buzzed with an energy, almost childlike in nature. “I haven’t met anyone in so long.”

His admittance didn’t ring alarm bells – like she thought it should. Instead, she felt… sad. His entire form seemed to be desperate in some ways. Desperate to talk to her.

“That’s alright.” She reassured. “I’m Y/N.” Her hand reached out properly to shake again.

“Y/N,” he repeated with a smile as he took her hand and shook it. “You can call me Soobie; my friends do.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, too.”

His smile was charming and gentle. The dimples made him look younger and, in some ways, she wanted to protect him. Why…? Her eyes danced over his face. He didn’t seem… well, ethereal. Not like the king nor even like the dark-haired fae outside the labyrinth. Sure, he was handsome and coated in the sparkling dust that seemed to be engrained in everything here. But there was something utterly human about him. His eyes weren’t some fantastical thing; the way he held himself didn’t feel off-putting and otherworldly. And if she looked closer, she noticed that sparkle wasn’t engrained in him like it was for the King or the Fae-From-Outside-The-Labyrinth. It almost looked like make-up?

“I’m trying to make my way through the Labyrinth; do you know the way?” she asked after a moment, glancing down the path she had been heading.

“The way through the Labyrinth… I used to know,” he muttered, gaze following hers down the path she was headed before looking back at the way she came. There was a moment as he thought. And she saw how distant his eyes became. Like, he wasn’t all here with her. In fact, his eyes looked sad, distant. As if lost in a maze. His face fell into a pout, curved lips softly parting as his breath shuddered.

His blinking slowed and she swore for a moment his breathing stopped before he blink, blink, blinked at her. His smile slowly reappeared and his eyes warmed from the deep sadness and confusion that consumed them moments before.

“Soobie?” she asked inquiringly.

“What was your name again?” he queried. As if she hadn’t given it only moments before.

The Runner smiled softly – though a bit tentative. Something was going on.

“Y/N,” she replied. “You don’t know how to get out of this Labyrinth either?”

“Y/N, pretty name,” he hummed pleasantly. Cheery, happy, content.

“The Labyrinth is my home.”

It was said solidly, truthfully.

“Your home?” she queried once more. “Has it always been your home? You spoke in Korean, right? It sounded Korean. Are you from there?”

What if it hadn’t always been his home? The Fae-From-Outside-The-Labyrinth said every Runner failed. She had seen bones, and countless dust, and what if Binnie was another remnant of a Runner.

“Korea. . . “, he breathed. She watched as his eyes faded into the distance. His long eyelashes fluttered. “I-I was from Daebu Island. I lived near the water.” His hands shook as he went to grab the necklace around his neck. It was a beaded necklace around his throat, the thing made of wrapped twine and iridescent shells, seven teardrop-esque gems, and dark-silver pearls. It complimented what looked like a hand-made white sweater. He was dressed all in white she noticed, all soft clean fabric. Like he never was walking in the dirt and grime she was now covered in. How was that possible?

His lips trembled as he continued to fiddle with the necklace. Twisting it around and soothing himself by rubbing the smooth shells and pearlescent gems between his fingertips. Anxiously, his eyes fluttered once more as he moved a hand away to wipe at his face. Glitter shifted on his skin in a streak of golden silver dust. It wasn’t underneath his skin like she had thought.

He was from her world. She knew that now. Was he human? She couldn’t tell completely.

“How could I forget? But-but Junie is here–“ He was talking to himself, rubbing his cheek back and forth. His eyes shifted to look at her again. Wide and gentle and confused. “The Labyrinth, it’s been home for a long time – come inside,” he gestured to a brick wall, that now with a closer look did resemble a door. There was even a latch and door handle made of ivy. His smile was shaky but genuine. He smiled brightly as he thought of something that seemed to distract him from his previous anxieties. “We can have tea together! Junie and I! I make a great cup of tea. It’s from night-flowers!”

“Oh,” she felt genuinely sorry. He seemed kind. There was a manipulative tone or even condescension. He was just desperate. Eager to talk to someone else. Naïve maybe. His thoughts were befuddled for some reason.

“I can’t; I’m sorry.” She apologized.

His eyes grew even sadder like a kicked puppy’s.

“I’d love to but I must find a way out of here. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“A way out,” he repeated. “But—”

“Soobin,” a voice called from within the doorway and out popped a dark-haired fae. He had something about him that felt magical – like the Goblin King. The world lit up as soon as she saw him. His gaze felt magnetic. She couldn’t help but turn towards him, focus on him.

“You’ve made a friend,” he hummed. His words felt like honey on her ears and she couldn’t help but stare. Hypnotized.

His hair was a midnight black, short, and trim in the back but swooping over his face daintily. His face was almost as beautiful as the Goblin King’s. His eyes weren’t a winter-esque blue or jeweled purple, but instead a water-soaked green as though his eyes were salt-frosted sea-glass. His lips were kiss-swollen, a softened red pout.

While Soobin wore a soft, hand-knit sweater of cream, this man wore a heavy fur-like cloak over his shoulders, hiding his shirtless form she noted as it shifted with his movements. He had remnants of magic in his skin but, unlike the crushed starlight of the King, his looked glossy wet like it was liquid honey and sunshine mixed together. If she reached out, she swore it’d stick to her.

He captivated her.

“Yeonjun-hyung,” the blonde-haired man lit up at the sight of him as well. A hand reached out for the forgetful man, and Soobin took it easily.

He hugged the fae man, and the motion sent the smell of salt-water her way. The ethereal man smiled fondly at the other before looking at the Runner again. There was that sharpness, almost an animalistic look. Like a predator hunting a prey. His fingers wound themselves through Soobin’s protectively.

“I’m looking for the way to the castle,” she repeated to the new fae, her head tilted towards the blonde. “Soobin was helping me.”

There was a flash of something dark in Yeonjun’s sea-glass eyes. Something she couldn’t quite place as he licked his plump lips slowly.

“He is helpful,” he said steadily. “Did he mention things aren’t always as they seem? The walls may seem one way but they may lead another.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, one that Yeonjun tracked with carefulness.

“He hadn’t.”

“She was going straight,” Soobin teased under his breath.

It made her roll her eyes a bit, huffing. Yeonjun smiled as he exhaled. His shoulders loosened a bit as he glanced both ways. Down the right and left of infinity.

“Things aren’t what they seem here,” Yeonjun stated simply. “So, you can’t take it for granted,” he looked back at Soobin who had leaned more and more into the older man. His chin rested on the tip of the older’s shoulder as he stared directly at the wall behind her. He smiled raising his brows before gesturing with his chin towards the wall behind her.

The Runner glanced back at the wall opposite of their ‘house’, her brow raising.

“Walk through it!” Soobin encouraged.

She turned and fully stared at the wall in front of her. It looked like a wall. No gaps, no nothing.

“But it’s… a wall,” she breathed.” She took a step forward, trying to trust these strangers. Her hand reached out slowly to find… nothing. It just looked like the wall continued for forever. Stepping through the hole, she could see clearly now. It was an opening! There was another path beyond its bricks, and surely another one somewhere else. These walls were all illusions.

She just had to look closer.

“Thank you! That was incredibly helpful!” the Runner beamed at the others as she turned to face them once more.

Yeonjun’s smile was careful, and Soobin’s equaled her beaming grin. She quickly went to grab her shoes and slide them back on, grimacing at the loose sand grains still in them, but even that couldn’t dampen her mood that was gradually lightening. This was a start - finally!

“Thank you!” she repeated gratefully as she turned to right to begin to walk onwards through the maze.

“Miss,” Yeonjun called out, the tune something so enticing she couldn’t help but pause in her step. “Don’t go that way – never go that way.”

The warning was paired with a shake of his head that Soobin copied.

“Oh…. Thanks,” the Runner grinned at them before heading in the opposite direction, finally feeling like she had something of a start.

Soobin’s sad eyes watched her leave. “I was excited to see someone,” he commented lowly, dejected, and droopy almost like an ill-watered flower.

Yeonjun sighed, his hands going to pass through Soobin’s hair sweetly. “I know, sugar, but we have to keep you safe.” He glanced back at the castle and the shadow it cast over the land. “If she had gone the other way, she would have gone straight to the castle – and the King would be at our doorstep.”

The mention of the Goblin King made Soobin’s eyes focus just a tad.

“Can’t have that.” He murmured, and Yeonjun smiled proud.

“Exactly, coileán,” Yeonjun praised as he moved one hand to release his seal-skin fur cape’s clasp.

The silky soft thing fell off his shoulders, leaving his upper body bare. It revealed what appeared to be spotted grey and white dots over his toned stomach. He pressed a kiss to Soobin’s nose, lovingly, before he draped the cape over Soobin’s shoulders protectively.

“Let’s go inside and make tea, hm?”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #jisung imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #soobin x yeonjun #yeonbin fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #skz fantasy au

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destinylordoffreaks · 8 months

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I said I would upload pics when they got here but life’s been a little crazy so it’s a little later than planned but here they are tada 🎉

I am so thrilled to have these in my collection again it’s Been a little chaotic here for the last month, so it’s taken a little longer to get around to this than I planned. Sorry,

I was able to find a replacement for the purple skirt on eBay and I’m so excited about that. Everything just sort of fell in the place for me to get these two dolls. I’m so happy and I managed to get some stands off of Amazon that are right for displaying them. They’re little flimsier than I would’ve liked, but considering I got 5 of them for eight bucks there Worth the price and as stated before I have decided to call them coralee and aquanetta a couple of names that play both off of there colors and the theme of them being sea pixies they can also go by Cory and Annette her short

you can see here Im actually am using the display box from the RH Maria Garcia doll for taking pictures and the blue sticky notes underneath them are to help keep the paint on their feet from melting off onto the hard plastic of the stand this is a known issue with certain dolls that have been painted it’s not super pretty, but it protects both the dolls and the stand

And once again, I would like to apologize for any spelling errors. I am dyslexic and I am using voice to text. I have already had to edit this post three times because I was rereading it and realized how badly it was written🤦🏻‍♀️

edited again to add link to art I did of them

#barbie #barbie fairytopia #barbie fairytopia sea pixies #pink sea pixie #blue sea pixie #barbie fairytopia magic of the rainbow #barbie fairytopia mermaidia #coralee and aquanetta #barbie dolls

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rhaegang · 3 months

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cattonquick has been eating away at me for months now

there's definitely already a couple fics for this, but i'm obsessed with anything involving feminizing felix, whether it's clothes, makeup, or just highlighting felix's general manic pixie dream girl vibe + the way it brings out oliver's dominant/obsessive side. felix is just So Babygirl & oliver should treat felix like His Babygirl

i love your work btw you're such a talented writer 🖤

This sort of coincides with the previous ask about VS angel Felix. I think Felix is a soft, whimsical little creature who only happens to inhabit the body of a very large white guy with lots of wealth and power. I think he loves to be held, and coddled, and he loves being the baby of his family.

Maybe even some of why he doesn’t connect emotionally with the girls he’s dated is that their mental map of him is incongruent with who he is, so he lives down to their expectations of him.

But Oliver — I think he could help Felix to feel as small and delicate and soft as he wanted, if given the chance.

In fact, I was literally just having a conversation with @rodentsofdisbelief about Oliver maybe stealing a lipstick from Venetia’s dresser as an offering to Felix, encouraging him to try it on, to see himself as a pretty thing.

Strange to think that someone as hot as Felix has insecurities, but really everyone does. I think he’s insecure about how big he is. He prefers to curl up and seem smaller. The fact that Oliver IS so small in comparison fascinates him. He must wonder all the time about being Oliver’s size, about what being Oliver is like. And Oliver picks up on that — he deliberately makes himself smaller for Felix, because he thinks that’s what Felix wants from him, not realizing there is more nuance there.

So when, at some point, it might become apparent to Oliver that Felix wants to be the one who is small? Oliver would be all too pleased to make himself feel larger than life to Felix. And Felix would be scared, of course—at first.

But then, he would start to understand that this is about giving him permission to be delicate, to be fragile, lovely, treasured like a work of art. And that includes things like indulging in his love of pink, of sumptuous fabrics that drape and float, and that he could try another style of earring and ask Oliver’s opinion in private and know he won’t be jeered for it. He could ask a question like “have you ever shaved your legs, Ollie?” and not expect a laugh, only a shake of Oliver’s head, and that curious stare.

“D’you think you could help me shave mine, though?”

There’s just so much of them, you see, that Felix isn’t sure he’ll get it done properly on his own. And all the twisting and bending, what if he slips? What if he cuts himself? He might faint dead away from the blood.

As Felix is explaining his request, Oliver is already moving the stool closer to the tub. He’s already stoppering the drain and running the taps. He’s folding a towel and setting it on the floor, where he kneels.

“Let’s have your trousers down, then.”

And that makes Felix feel faint too, maybe even more than if there had been blood. But he peels his jeans down and steps out of them, then goes to fold himself down to the stool in front of Oliver, who’s wetting a sea sponge and lathering his hands with shaving soap, looking at Felix like there is absolutely nothing odd happening. Like it’s a perfectly normal thing for a guy to want to do in the first place, and just as normal to ask his guy friend to help.

It takes ages to do both legs, and Felix is so glad he did ask for Ollie’s help; he would’ve gotten bored and frustrated halfway if he had tried doing it on his own. But Oliver’s methodical, focused attention seems to put Felix into a sort of trance. It makes the hair on his nape prickle, jolts a strange little shiver between his ears and down his spine. The plunk of the razor into the water. The scrape of it over his knee. The foamy swipe of lather being smoothed up his thighs.

At Oliver’s instruction, he spreads them, and Oliver moves in between them. He rolls the legs of Felix’s boxers up, tucks them into the hinge of his hips. The heat of his breath in Felix’s lap has a predictable effect, but Oliver says nothing about it. He goes back to his task. He waits until the end to have Felix stand so he can finish the backs of his upper thighs, moving one of Felix’s feet up to the stool to make it easier to get at the tender places he needs to touch.

That means Felix can see, in the full mirror facing the tub, his miles and miles of newly-smooth legs. He can see them, and he can feel how strange and soft and naked they are under Oliver’s hands, and he finds himself wishing for something to put on other than his crisp blue boxers. Something that would accentuate his legs better now, frame Oliver’s work like it’s art. Daring himself, Felix points his foot into tiptoe.

“You know, the whole point of high heeled shoes is that they make your legs and arse curve more,” Oliver throws that out casually. Like he didn’t just commit arson, like his words weren’t a molotov tossed through the window of the warehouse where Felix stores all the thoughts and feelings he isn’t interested in thinking or feeling.

It has never occurred to Felix that there might be somewhere a large, ungainly boy could find high heels in a size large enough to fit, but…he thinks, there couldn’t be any harm in it if he asks Ollie to help him look.

#gang asks #rhaegang originals certified fresh

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kingofthe-egirls · 1 year

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BEACH HOUSE INVITE: LUFFY x Y/N

Requested by anon

(cw: kissing, fluffy fluffy fluff)

Ok so i based the reader/luffy dynamic off of the relationship bt him and Shirahoshi bc i'm in love with them. ugh.

Songs: "Superfruit" by Maude Latour (Luffy's pov)

uk the voice luffy uses to say goodbye to shirahoshi? the really sweet and kind one? yeah that's the voice he uses around you all the time

the crew notices and makes fun of him at first but eventually stop

bc he just keeps using it

so sweet and quiet and gentle, asking if you’re okay, if you want a snack (only after he's eaten tho lol)

Shirahoshi inspo/proof they're in love: The way he lets her hold him in her hands, the way he found her the first time by jumping on her boobs in the dark lmao

It’s like that with you, since the first time he saw you, with pink hair tumbling down your shoulders, cute bows at two pixie buns at either side of your head. the way you smell like the freshest sea breeze, he loves just standing next to you on the deck and breathing you in. you're literally a breath of fresh air

Also he knew immediately that he wanted to touch you. like, all the time. sweet and soft and gentle, he's in love with your curves, your supple skin, your flowy clothes and pastel eyeshadows. he's in love with your softness: your quiet, gentle bird's voice, the way that you smile and blush whenever he meets your sparkly eyes

You're also curvier than Nami and Robin (or most of the girls in one piece cmon oda) and he loves your squishy parts like your upper arms or lower hips (your ass, your tits), and he can't help from squeezing them, always passing his hands over you as he slides past you in the hallway, or playing tag with you on the deck (you love playing games with your captain; it's like you're little kids! you want to build sandcastles at the beach with him--which is why you invite him to the beach, originally)

***

"You need a break, Captain," you smile sweetly at him, holding the paper invitation in your hands. It's cream, with tinted pink designs of seashells on the edges. It has gold writing on it, giving him the address of your beach house and the dates you want him to visit. You hand it to him, sheepishly. He takes it, stars in his eyes as seagulls call over head. You hold your hands behind your back.

"Whooooaa, seashells!" He turns the paper over in his hands. "Is this for me?"

You nod, shifting on your feet. Your turquoise skirt floats around your legs. Your thigh pokes out from the deep slit on the side. Your golden sandals are laced halfway up your calf, with beads dangling from the side.

“I want you to come to my beach house!” You explain, “While the rest of the crew is on leave.” You bounce up onto your toes, your white crochet halter scratching against your underarms. Luffy bounces, too.

Except he bounces three feet into the air, rocketing around the ship like an elastic firework.

“OF COURSE I’LL COME!!!” He shouts from his perch on the mast, before slingshotting back down to land at your feet. He’s grinning six inches from you, hands around your waist. “Can we go now?”

***

You tie your silky, pink hair up in two ribbons, having french braided the top half into two pixie buns, letting the rest fall down your back in loose waves. The sea salt is already frizzing up your hair slightly, but you shrug. Luffy doesn’t usually care about stuff like that, anyway.

Besides, you like a little wildness.

You trot down the beach, following a singing Luffy who skips a few feet in front of you. You’re wearing a a silver bikini, with a lavender cover-up tied around your waist. Seashell bracelets decorate your wrists.

“Let’s build a sand castle!” You call, dipping your toes into wet sand. Sea stars and broken bits of shell litter the beach. Tide pools gather with snipping crabs and soft sands. You pick your way around any potential snippers, as you catch up to where Luffy’s kneeling in the sand.

He’s further away from the water, where the sand is dry and hot from the midsummer sun. The waves crash gently at the beach.

The house itself is up on the hill, grassy tufts of greenery lining the rocky incline. It’s white and blue and shuttered, with lacy trimming and a rickety screen door. It’s old, and small, and so, so cute. You’ve spent most of your childhood summers, here. You count yourself lucky.

Luffy is already scooping piles of sand into one big mound.

“Hey, that’s not how you do that,” you say, trudging up farther to the base of the wooden stairs that lead up the hill. You grab a shiny red bucket and a blue plastic shovel. You giggle, tipping any debris out of the old pail set you’ve used since you were a kid. A couple sand flies spurt out, but you shoo them away. Luffy calls your name.

“Y/N! I wanna be king! You can be the princess,” he grins as you come back. He’s squatting in his red swim trunks, chest left bare for the sun. His skin is almond honey, and his arms flex as he works. “Gimme the bucket,” he holds out a hand without looking. A comma of intense concentration forms between his eyebrows; he sticks his tongue out to the side.

“We should put a star on the castle, so everyone knows it’s ours.”

He snickers, scooping sand into the bucket. He pats it down with the shovel. “I like that, Y/N! Let’s go get one.” He searches around the shore for something worthwhile. You take the bucket from him, kneeling in the sand. Black and tan flecks stick to your upper thighs.

You busy yourself with tipping out sand pillars, forming the square ring for the castle. You’ll put a big mound in the middle, you think, and add turrets on either side. You’re lost in thought, scooping piles together, when Luffy comes back.

He lets out a low whistle, “Whew, that looks cool!” He sits down with a thump, toned legs crisscrossed like a little kid’s. He dumps out a bunch of sea shells, sand dollars, crab shells, and bits of broken rock and glass onto the sand. He giggles at his treasure.

“Look at this one, Y/N! It’s shaped like Chopper!” He holds up a brown bottle glass piece, with two sharp juts sticking out like antlers. You grin.

“That’s so cool!!!” You geek out with him, poring over the little beach gifts.

“I like this one,” you point out a silver seashell, glittering with opalescence on one side. The other is dark brown and ridged. “Abalone,” you explain, holding up the palm-sized piece. You trace your fingers over the iridescent shimmers, all turquoise and violet in the sunlight. It’s getting close to evening, soon.

“Mother of pearl,” Luffy says, tracing the outside ridge of the sea shell. “Nami likes that, too.”

You smile, softly. His fingertips move closer to yours, both of you holding the shell between you. His hand ghosts over yours, touching the back of your wrist. “I like you,” he says, voice cracking. “Do ya like me, too?”

A coral blush is formed on his cheeks, his dark eyes cast away from you for now. You duck your head to meet him. “Yeah,” you whisper, leaning forward so your lips almost touch. He doesn’t pull away from you; instead, his breath quickens. Your own heart is drumming away in your chest.

You press a kiss into his soft lips.

“Mm,” he moans, almost immediately, dropping the shell to cradle the back of your head. You both shift, so you’re sitting closer with his legs around your waist. You’re kneeling in the sand.

Luffy’s lips are soft as sugar, sweet and chapped and practiced. You didn’t know he liked girls, your crush always thrumming in your breastbone whenever he’s around. But he’s good enough at kissing to have done it plenty of times before. You wonder who he’s been kissing, but heat flares in your gut and you push that away for later.

Now, he’s running his strong hand up your ribcage, to softly palm at your breast. He moans, the sound pouring sweet into your mouth. His thumb strokes over your nipple, over the fabric of your swimsuit. He repeats the movement, twice.

“Luuuuffy—,” you whimper, hands scrabbling at his chest. You don’t know where to touch: his tanned shoulders, his muscular biceps, his strong forearms. You reach down for his hands, pressing them both against your cheeks. “I love you,” you whisper, eyes watering as you meet his.

Luffy’s boyish face breaks into a grin. He beams, pecking a kiss onto your cheeks. He peppers your whole face with kisses, nuzzling into your scent. “I love ya too,” he rasps, voice at your ear. He takes the shell of it between his teeth. Then kisses below your jawline. “Always have.”

“I know,” you whisper, eyes fluttered shut. His ministrations are heaven against your skin. You wrap your own arms around his waist, bringing him in closer. He giggles, kissing down your neck as he indulges you. “Me too.”

“Ahh, good,” he strokes your collarbone, thumbing over it gently. He leans the side of his head against your shoulder. His lips move softly against your neck as he speaks. “I thought so, but I didn’t wanna say anything. You’re so shy,” he snickers, “I didn’t wanna scare ya away.”

“Sorry,” you say, shrinking away. Your blush has grown hot on your cheeks.

“Don’t be,” he pulls back to peck at your face again. His eyes crinkle at the edges. He’s so handsome, oh my gosh. You kiss him, again.

And again, and again, and again.

***

#dumpster dive #my writing #one piece fanfic #luffy fanfic #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy fluff #request

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fastwiemagie · 10 months

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Bring & Buy at Tokyo Boom

On November the 12th my local lolita community organised a bring & buy event and I was part of the working team! A bring & buy is a specialized kind of flea market: you drop off the things you want to sell with us (the lolita association) and we sell the items. There's a small fee (1€) for each item you drop off. At the end you collect your money for the sold items or get your items back (if they haven't sold). The small fee goes towards our association, we use it towards events.

I knew we were announcing our upcoming Teaparty at the bring & buy event (will be on June 8th 2024), which will be called "Royal Symphony of Roses". This highwaist-skirt of mine is called "The Empress' New Clothes" (after the fairy tale) and also has a lots of roses in it's print, so I decided to wear this skirt in honour of our upcoming teaparty!

I had lots of fun working at the b & b event and it also was a great success! The owners of Tokyo Boom (the restaurant) were also happy and we will hold further events there! ^_^

I bought two gorgeous headpieces for myself. The black one was an immediate must buy and I pondered a bit about buying the white one (because I have no similar black ones, but vaguely similar light-coloured ones), but then my friend offered me a discount and I couldn't resist any longer on the white one!

[id]Picture 1: A mirrored picture of Amy (me), posing in a chair in front of a big Daruma statue. Amy is a young, fat, white woman with glasses and long brown hair worn in two long braids. She's looking very relaxed and laid-back in this picture, as well as confident. She's leaning back in the chair and has her feet crossed over, which you can only see from the angle of her brown-and-gold accentuated boots. She's wearing a thrifted soft pink top and a soft pink cardigan with buttons over it on the top. The cardigan is tucked into her high waist rock, that's also very light in colour. The background colour of the skirt's fabric is off-white/beige and it's adorned with many flowers and portraits of vaguely regency looking women and men in uniform. There are also ships and letters scattered throughout the print. The print seems like a love story, set at sea. The skirt is finished with pale pink tulle lace with flowers on it. The grey tights don't totally match, but sometimes we have to work with what we have.

Picture 2 & 3: Two very similar close-up selfies of two friends: left is Amy (me) and right is my friend @bright-eyes-hope. My friend has an arm over my shoulder and we're both smiling at the camera.

Amy is a young, fat, white woman with glasses and long brown hair. She's wearing an off-white flower crown, further decorated with pink flowers. She's wearing a soft pink cardigan. My friend is a young, thing, white woman with glassed and short red hair in a kind of pixie cut. They're wearing a black bow in their hair and a black hoodie with cats on it.

Picture 4: A picture of the two lovely headpieces (black and white), that I bought at the bring & buy. Laying above them is the flower crown I wore for this event. The flower crown is offwhite and I further decorated it with single pink roses (to match the pink lace of my skirt). See picture 5 for a description of the black headpiece, as that one also shows it better/in clearer detail. The white headpiece is by Triple Fortune and features one big white bow with "Triple Fortune" written in gold, as well as multiple white roses and decorative pearls. Multiple asymmetric white veils drape down from the headpiece. The black and white headpieces are both so lovely!

Picture 5: A close-up of a lovely round headpiece by Atelier Pierrot. It's made from black lace, with black roses and black little satin ribbon bows around the rim. Some white pearls give the headpiece a bit of sparkle and further glamour.

Picture 6: The unmirrored original version of picture 1![/id]

#handmade skirt #handmade lolita #handmade fashion #diy or die #sewing #plussize j fashion #plussize lolita fashion #lovely fat people #fun with friends #egl community #egl coord #thrifted fashion #top and cardigan i'm wearing are thrifted #and yes i know white thights would fit better but it's so hard to find them :(#eye contact #long image description #image described #image description #fashion described

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dellalyra · 1 year

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𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

pixie says: this is my first foray into writing for genshin but neuvilette is too pretty to ignore and if you notice i am writing for another tall man with white hair no you didn’t.

The Chief Justice of Fontaine was an elusive man. Aloof, serious, logical. The air of grace and elegance that flowed from his body and being put the most beautiful of swans to shame. The way he carried himself with such poise and dignity, made it clear why he was so very respected throughout Fontaine. His air of unattainability was echoed by the ever polite, kind-yet-distant way he interacted with others. That, and the obvious - that level of otherworldly beauty. It was what first struck the traveller upon meeting Neuvilette - such beautiful features, graceful and sharp like the man himself. Hair as white as freshly fallen snow with those odd blue horns (it became quite clear to the traveller that they were horns - since there was no way in Celestia that the Iudex was not the Hydro Dragon).

Yet - that day, at the grave of Navia’s father - it was clear as day that there was a deep, painful, lingering sadness in those beautiful eyes.

Lumine hoped he wasn’t alone.

The life of a dragon can be a lonely one.

An invite to dinner had arrived for Paimon and Lumine, from Navia - a thank you for their help during the trial. Following the etiquette she had been picking up on in each nation, it was customary to bring a gift to the host in Fontaine which lead her to wandering the streets in search of a florist. Lumine may have been very adept at gathering flowers and plants - however floristry arrangements were never a skill an intergalactic traveler and the sword of Teyvat had ever picked up on.

The pale blue front of the flower shop was immaculately painted and decorated with gilded lettering ‘la gueule de loup’ - which according to Paimon meant Snapdragon.

What an odd name, she hadn’t seen a single snapdragon in Fontaine.

“Bonsoir! If you need any assistance, please let me know!” A cheerful voice echoed from the door behind the cream counter.

“Hello! We would like to buy a bouquet please!” Paimon responded - ever the duo’s spokesperson.

At that, a woman in a pale pink apron came around the corner. Hair haphazardly pulled up atop her head secured with a pencil and a dark blue ribbon - a cream, soft blouse tucked into a dark blue layered skirt atop white stockings and navy and gold boots, a n embroidered blazer sat atop a chair which matched the woman’s skirt. She smiled brightly at the pair in front of her - and Lumine’s breath hitched when the shining tone of her eyes caught the evening sunlight, an otherworldly quality to her aura.

“A bouquet? Well, good thing you’re in a flower shop! I might have some flowers we could piece together!” She said, giggling as she gestured to the sea of flowers engulfing the store.

Paimon smiled and laughed and Lumine followed suit.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lumine and Paimon - I was hoping I would get to run into you soon.” She said as she collected a basket to gather her supplies.

“You know us?” Paimon asks.

“Sweetheart, I think everyone in Teyvat knows you. The brave and beautiful outlander and her clever guide. However, my husband was in attendance at the most recent magic show and trial - so I became privy to all of the inside scoop.” She smiled.

“You did not attend? I thought all of Fontaine was there.” Lumine spoke up.

“Ah, I tend to not get involved with the trials, I am delivered a rundown of the days events in the evenings. Yet I have been to several of the twins magic shows, such fantastic entertainment! I do love them so. Such gentle children, too, Lyney and Lynette.” The woman’s eyes lit up and an air of an excited child permeated her face. Lumine quirked a brow at the woman calling the twins ‘children’ for she looked no older than 25.

“Now! What’s the occasion?” Hands placed on her hips, the woman smiled at the travellers.

“Miss Navia asked us to dinner this evening, and we’ve been told a gift is a Fontainian custom.” Paimon speaks.

“Ah! Well, for Miss Navia you will need some clematis - her favourites. Edelweiss for courage, which you have both shown in the past few weeks. Hydrangeas for understanding - blue, I think. Iris for trust. Nasturtiums for victory. Rosemary for scent and also for remembrance of her dearest father, with some added sweet pea as a thank for you a lovely time.” The woman says, mostly to herself as she wanders the store - quickly picking up bunches of flowers from the jars in which they lay. Paimon and Lumine’s eyes were wide as if the woman spoke in tongues.

“Wow! I didn’t even know flowers could mean all that! Lyney only told us a few! You sure know your stuff, Mrs. Florist!” Paimon squealed, amazed.

The woman threw her head back in laughter.

“Y/N is fine, sweethearts. A book could be told in flowers alone. Flowers are nothing but truth, they exist for beauty and healing - and I admire them greatly.”

“You knew Miss Navia’s father?” Lumine asks, gentle voice contrasting Paimon’s outburst.

“I knew him well. A very good man, loyal endlessly and thought of Navia as his entire world. A life taken too soon in protection of his child - I lay flowers on his grave every month, mortal lives are so fragile - they must be treated with respect, no matter the circumstances.” She says, hands deftly manoeuvring the flowers into a piece of sponge.

Lumine quirked a brow.

“Mortal?”

“A state in which neither of us reside, Miss Lumine.” The woman responds with a wink and a smile.

It was logical that Lumine was not mortal, yet the explanation of this woman before her also not being so seemed to make many things far more understandable.

Just then, a patter of footsteps outside the store came trotting in through the front door.

“Mama!” A small voice called.

“Liath! Hello, sweetling!” The woman pauses her arranging and comes around the counter and leans down. Lumine spins and expects to see a child - perhaps with the florists hair.

What she didn’t expect was a Melusine.

“Papa wishes to know if you’d like to have a picnic together this evening, when he is finished at the Palais.” She asks, picking a small rose and placing it in her mother’s hair.

“Tell him that sounds wonderful, I am closing the shop soon and I meet him at the office. Thank you, Liath. Come here, let me fix your ribbon.” Y/N smiles and adjust the ribbon on the lapel of the melusine’s lapel.

“Thank you, mama. Bye bye!” She says, kissing her on the cheek and skipping out the door.

“Mama?” Lumine asks.

“Ah - not biologically. Yet, my and my husband’s nature has led us to a parental standing with the melusine’s. They are all our children, regardless of what soil they grew from.” She says, wrapping up the bouquet in a swathe of blue ribbons. Lumine wonders if by nature, did she mean they were both parental figures by nature or something to do with her not-mortal being. Perhaps her husband also was not human.

Lumine decided to press on the matter no more. Everyone deserved their privacy, after all.

“Et, voila! One bouquet for Miss Navia.” Y/N says, handing the bouquet to the traveler.

“How much do we owe you?” Lumine smiles, the bouquet truly was something exquisite, a talented woman indeed.

“Nonsense, lovely. You have done Fontaine a great service, consider this a small thank you. Miss Lumine, please take these peony roses also - they are a symbol of happiness, which you make me as I have heard you show great kindness to all of my children, for which I am so very grateful. For you, Madame Paimon, some purple Iris - meaning respect and intelligence for the Outlander’s clever guide.” She hands them all of the flowers, and winks at Lumine when she addresses Paimon, knowing that such words would fill the floating pixie with glee. True enough, Paimon squeals and dives to hug the woman who chuckles and kisses her cheek.

“Thank you so so much, Miss Y/N! We love them so much - Lumine, you could put it in your hair with your Inteyvat! I’ll put mine under my tiara, then we can match!” Lumine smiles and does as suggested.

“May I ask where you are meeting Miss Navia?” Y/N asks.

“Café Lucerne, however I’m not quite sure where that is.” Lumine responds.

“Ah! Well then I can walk you, if you wish?”

Just as she speaks, the door opens with a jungle of the bell as Lumine secured the flower in her hair she sees Y/N smile and walk around the counter.

“Hello, mon ange. I thought I was meeting you at the Palais.” Ah, must be her husband, Lumine thinks and she sees Paimon turn and freeze.

“Mon trésor, I am taking you on a picnic so it is only right that I collect you myself.” The deep rumble of a voice makes Lumine freeze too.

“YOUR HUSBAND IS MONSIEUR NEUVILETTE?!” Comes a squeal from Paimon.

Lumine spins on her heel and sees the owner of the familiar voice. Y/N’s hand is pressed to the far taller man’s cheek in a tender display of affection she would not have associated with the Chief Justice.

The gentle smile on the man’s face as he looks at his wife with such love is one she figures the melusine’s learned from him.

“Miss Lumine, Miss Paimon. A pleasure to see you. I see you have met the Madame Neuvilette.” He nods his head toward them.

“MADAME NEUVILETTE?!” Paimon seems on the verge of a meltdown at this information.

“Indeed. Apologies, I got so caught up in making such a wonderful bouquet I didn’t even introduce myself properly. Do forgive my lack of manners.” She says, turning and removing her apron as she begins to shut down the store for the evening.

Everything clicked into place just then.

The wife of the hydro dragon would hardly be a mortal woman. She mentioned the Palais, his attendance at both the magic show and the trial and of course the melusine’s would view the hydro dragon as their father.

The logical side of it all did little to curb the shock of seeing the intimidating Ludex and Hydro Dragon of Fontaine, the man who had taken out Childe with a simple slap being so gentle and enamoured in the face of his wife.

They way they looked at each other - that level of love had been a rare delight to find across her journey. Perhaps in how Zhongli spoke of Guizhong or Cyno and Tighnari - or how that certain someone looked at her and she at them…

“Neuv, we must show Lumine and Paimon to Café Lucerne on our way to our picnic.” Y/N says, ushering them all from the store before locking the door behind her.

The walk was short, as pleasantries were exchanged and Paimon and Y/N did most of the talking in the wake of the quiet counterparts.

“And here we are! I do hope you have a wonderful evening. My regards to Miss Navia. Do come and visit again soon, I would love to exchange tales of adventures!” Y/N smiles, before pressing a kiss to each cheek of the two outlanders.

“Indeed, the melusine’s speak very highly of you both - you must forgive the children if they become over zealous.” Neuvilette adds with a fond smile.

“Au revoir, enjoy your meal!” Y/N says, grasping her husbands arm and smiling at him. Lumine looks at them walk away toward the aquabus station entrance.

She could not quite believe her eyes when she sees the hydro dragon press a large pale hand to the smooth, undisturbed lower belly of his wife.

The sunset brightened ever so slightly.

Fontaine surely was full of surprises.

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x you #genshin fluff #genshin x reader

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jamessunderlandgf · 10 months

Text

—OCS as OBSCURE ASSOCIATIONS, pt. 2

hi— i’m back with another one of these w the fan favorite oc andie!! i actually love this game so much so i AM going to be annoying abt it for the foreseeable future. sorry 🫶🏻 tagging some besties to also do it @teamhawkeye @unholymilf @florbelles @statichvm @jackiesarch @jacobseed @bunfey @fashionablyfyrdraaca @killerspinal @cetra @sikoi @arklay @kyber-infinitygems @avallachs @gortash @oc-musings @rvchelking

ANIMAL: doves. bees. flamingos. monarch butterflies.

COLORS: blush pink. orange. yellow. gold.

MONTH: summer months; june, july.

SONGS: le soleil est près de moi, air. | gold, marina. | pegasus, gems.

NUMBER: lucky number 7.

PLANTS: hibiscus. orange trees. banana leaves.

SMELLS: madagascar vanilla. sea salt. coconut

GEMSTONE: ruby.

TIME OF DAY: sunrise, the very first break of dawn.

SEASON: summer.

PLACES: the mediterranean. a balcony. a cliffside, overlooking the ocean. under the sun. a library. a dusty attic. an ancient ruin.

FOOD: peaches. grapes. brie and crackers. filet mignon. blueberry tarts. raspberry jam.

DRINKS: tea with honey. prosecco. rosé. ice water.

ELEMENT: earth.

ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS: virgo. sagittarius. libra.

SEASONINGS: cinnamon. nutmeg.

SKY: pink, fluffy clouds. early morning sky.

WEATHER: sunny and comfortably warm.

MAGICAL POWER: flight.

WEAPONS: her open palm.

SOCIAL MEDIA. instagram.

MAKEUP PRODUCT: lip gloss.

CANDY: starburst. fruit chews. bubblegum.

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: sprinting.

ART STYLE: photography; land art.

FEAR: answering the call of the void.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: pixie. but not the mischievous type like the disney tinkerbell type pixies

PIECE OF STATIONARY: postcard.

THREE EMOJIS: 🪽🌺💎

CELESTIAL BODY: the SUN. obviously.

#hi. feel free to ignore me #these are just so 🫶🏻#oc: andie #im also trying not to tag the same people cs #im doing so many of these #you know #anyways. uwu #andie: no flash photography 🤚🏻 she knows she’s the fan fave oc dnfnsndm #oc: andie la croix

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innocentlymacabre · 5 months

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find the word tag by @veneritia :)))

answering for The Crescent of Fools and Forgotten Time

Jayce and Lott find themselves in the twisted grasp of Lucille Carmine, one of the most dangerous Overlords of the criminal world, in a fantasy-heist, splicing the thrill of walking the edge of a knife with fantastical malevolence.

hand

Herald presses a hand to the side of the table. It hums with magical energy and leaves a sparkling blue handprint on it. The table hisses and a small slot shoots out, a single vial of pink powder in it. JAYCE VAN NYE (quietly): Pixie dust. Lott takes a startled step back.

window

A blast suddenly flies through the window, shattering it and heading straight for Habana. It hits him in the chest and sends him flying back. Jayce crouches to shield himself from the flying debris. LOTT PENBROOK MATRON: I got you. Now hurry up! JAYCE VAN NYE: Stars! Yep, I’m on it.

turn

The car makes contact with the ocean, making a tiny plop one would expect from a smooth pebble. A kaleidoscope of psychedelic nonsense assaults the senses as they traverse between the two dimensions. They emerge into a realm of pure calm. A picture-perfect sky, the kind one would see on ideal beach days. But it’s a strange, unsettling kind of calm. Everything is too much. The sky is too blue, the air is too still. The sun is too bright and the clouds look as though they were sculpted from marble. Jayce and Lott shield their eyes and turn back inwards. A winged creature flying past draws their attention back to the outside. They initially mistake it for a seagull but soon realize it’s a twisted version with teeth all over its wings and a mouth on both ends of its body.

sea

Beams of light stream down from the suns and strike the sea sharply on either side of them. They keep striking, successively getting closer and closer. Jayce and Lott stand back-to-back. The beams touch the edges of the island and refract into enough beams to circumnavigate the island. A legion of creatures made of light and water appear at the beams. Lott peers into the distance. LOTT PENBROOK MATRON: Are those…dust bunnies? Jayce gives him a deadpan expression.

These are from a feature film, the script for which I've submitted to a competition where the grand prize is the winner's movie being fully funded and produced!! You get a say in who this is and literally all you have to do is read the script and give your honest opinions (psst your honest opinion is that you love my movie).

tagging @socialmediasocrates @vnsmiles @xiranjayzhao @writingamongther0ses @derinthescarletpescatarian @zephsthings @worldsfromhoney + an open tag to find moon, wind, torment, silver

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lala1267 · 1 year

Text

Is it wrong (Part 4)

Summary: Priscilla knows and gets her revenge

Warnings: slight blood, glass, mentions of cuts, violent imagery, age gap.

Notes: Idk if this is good.

Legs swaying and smile lurking on her dimpled cheeks. Lolita's hand muffled her childish giggles as Elvis ran across her little mind. He was like a haunting melody, a lovely life saver. The way his big hands felt around hers, the way his back velvet hair hung in front of his face, the way he puffed on his cigar, the way his head tipped back against the sofa, relaxing. The visible dust molecules floated around her in the sunlight. Her long blonde curls seeped over her upper body like a golden waterfall. Her black shiny school shoes tapped against the wooden floorboard. The pencil in her hand scribbled against the white paper, leaving a trail of grey led. She couldn't wait to see Elvis. She was like she was a magnet to him. She just couldn't seem to pry away from his rose red magnetic field.

She walked out of the school gates with a skip in her step. She quickly rushed home.

The next few weeks

Lolita and Elvis would send flirtatious letters to eachover. Sometimes, Lolita would even sign the paper with her cherry red lipstick kisses. She would spray her floral beach scented perfume on the thin paper before sending it. Elvis's heart would ache and dim into a cold grey as he spent more days from his little Lolita. Lolita's violets would whimper in agony as the colour disappeared from the once purple petals. Her flowers were hauntingly delicate. The green stem that was now a rusty brown was weaping over, bent over like a sorrowful willow tree. Lolita would run across Elvis's mind like a shooting star, making its way through the galaxy. Lolita was so cheerful and happy. It was like the sun lived inside of her golden heart that was glittered with glowing pixy dust. It was almost as if you could hear a twilight twinkling sound whenever you were around her. You could hear the echoe of her childish giggles that filled the pollenated summer air. As Lolita was a burning desire, Priscilla was a captivating darkness. Her long black hair and foxy eyeliner accessorised her alluring sexyness. She had a mystery to her dark void. She was a secret witchy mistress trapped in such a small body. She was underestimated often. She was a woman of destingtion, calm and calculated. Even though Priscilla's nights and seas were colored black velvet, she would unfold a core of sweetness. If you pick at her petals and shower her in diamonds, of course.

One windy night

Priscilla sat on the cream lever couch that was situated in the lavish living room of Graceland. Her fingers that were covered in shiny sparkling rocks rummaged through the bag of popcorn that sat in her lap. Her eyes softened as she saw baby Lisa gently fall asleep in her high chair. Priscilla lifted herself from the couch and placed the popcorn aside before picking Lisa up. She cradled her and admired her cuteness. She placed tone little pink kisses on her soft cheeks.

"Oh my baby, I think it's your bedtime."

Priscilla whispers as her tone lifts to talk on a baby voice. She places Lisa in the downstairs cradle gently before sitting herself back down. She is distracted at the sound of the letter box ingraved into the front door. It clangs. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks as the small white letter that is swiftly floating towards the ground.

"Post man, at this time..."

Priscilla seems to be worried, but her emotions die down once she remembers that it is probably Elvis sending her a little letter. A smile appears on her face as she walks over to the note. She eagerly picks it up and tears the envelope off. The rubbish travels to the carpet as her eyes scan the letter.

"To my little Lolita.

I will be coming back tomorrow, I can't wait to see your pretty face again. I have a big suprise for you honey, you will be so happy when you see it!

-E.P."

Priscilla's once cosy living room crumbles and sucks her into a black void. Her breath is snatched from her as spicy salty tears seap down her tense throat. She feels her heart burn and crackle like a bonfire in a dead forest. The once bright red apples that hung from the green trees were now rotting and decaying as the rusty brown leaves fell off onto the muddy ground. A waterfall of tears gush down her tournamented face like oozing blood from her stone grey heart that is gradually burning into a red flame. Her tears dropped to the floor as her fist strangled the letter. She instantly sprints up the stairs. The sound of her heavy footsteps rang like a doorbell.

Lolita sat in the dimly lit guest room of Graceland. The cold night wind blew the cottage white curtains away. A smile plastered on her pretty face as the black ink wrote flirtatious words onto the lined paper. Her delicate hands moved around over the paper. Her feet kicked as she tried to contain her energy. Her heart thumped a sweet melody against her ribcage. The moonlight shot stars into her tangled hair, leaving behind sparkling fairy dust. It was as if there were rivers sweetly perfumed with vanilla in her bright soul. Her big blue orbs scanned the black Inc words that were tattooed onto the page a thousand times. Suddenly, loud footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, quickly getting closer to the door that separated her and the rest of the house. Without warning, the Swan white door flew open and hit the wall, leaving an indent. Priscilla's face was glistening with her warm salty tears whilst her clenched fist grasped the white love note. Her teeth grunted against eachover, and her eyes were bloodshot. She was like a baulk of fury that would explode any minute. She stood in the doorway before pointed to the crinkled letter in her hand with her quivering finger.

"What is this?"

She asked through her teeth, trying her best to remain calm. Lolita's eyes widened as they met with the letter that was suffocated in Priscilla's now white nuckles. She was filled with an ocean of apologies, but not a word escaped her pretty pink lips. She was silenced. Priscilla took a dangerous step closer to Lolita, who cowered like the pathetic little girl she was. Lolita's head hesitantly tilted up to Priscilla, who was now towering over her seated position.

"I said what the fuck is this!?"

She yelled before throwing the scrunched up paper at poor Lolita's face, causing her to flinch like a scared puppy with its tail in between its legs. Lolita's watery eyes looked back up to Priscilla, who was at her boiling point, but still, not a word escaped.

"If you don't wanna talk, we can handle this another way."

She grunted under her hot breath. Priscilla's hands aggressively grasped Lolita's precious, lininen curls. The sting and pain on her scalp caused her to yelp helplessly. Priscilla pulled her powerless body to the cold, hard ground before jumping on top of her. Her long nails clawed at Lolita like an animal, scratching, hitting, punching, anything. Lolita's cries and screams meant nothing to Priscilla. She felt no remourse, no mercy. Priscilla was filled with rage. Her hands curled into a tight fist before landing numerous blows on Lolita's bright red face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are bitch!?"

She shouted at the top of her lungs like a mad woman.

"Huh!? I can't hear ya!"

She yelled causing her lungs to burn like a cigarette. Her face lit up red as she carried on her vicious attack on the small teen.

"Elvis is mine!"

"I'll make sure you'll never meet again like goddamn vegans!"

She yelled. Her shouts echoed around the dark room like a haunted melody. Priscilla stood up from weak Lolita, who was whimpered and sobbing like a baby. She turned around to rummage on the messy desk. She finally got her hands on an expensive perfume that Elvis had recently brought Lolita. Priscilla's grip was tight on the glass bottle as she turned to look at Lolita. Her arms raised in the air, holding the glass perfume filled bottle up. She aggressively threw it straight at Lolita. She watched as sharp shards of glass smash all over Lolita's poor body, leaving cuts for the perfume to seep onto like pink venom. Lolita let out an ear deafening scream as she felt the burning sensation of the perfume travelling into the bloody openings on her body. This only added feul to the fire. Priscilla wasn't going to stop until her screams would dissappear into the dense air. She wasn't going to stop until she was dead. She needed to feel every one of Lolita's bones crush. Priscilla quickly turned back around and grabbed anything she could from the table. She threw glass, makeup, decor, and hairspray at the weak little girl. The wooden floor was now decorated in little blood stains and glistening glass peices that shimmered like diamonds.

Her hands pushed the stool over. She needed to hurt Lolita badly. She stood for a few seconds, thinking. The screams and cries of Lolita just clouded the room. Priscilla looked at the desk before man handling it. She dragged it closer and closer to Lolita's beaten body until it finally fell on top of her. Lolita's screams and breaths were snatched from her as she felt the heavy wooden table crush her ribs, and the tall mirror break into sharp shards on her body. Immense pain coursed through her veins as her mouth was locked shut. The sound of glass breaking rang in Priscilla's ears as Lolita was deafened by the white noise.

Priscilla just towered over her, looking at the mess that she had made with her bloodshot eyes. Her chest heaved up and down, and her red nuckles relaxed. Her eyes looked at the painted red floor. Her brows furrowed as tears streamed down her face.

"J-just, leave my relationship alone, please."

She whispered breathlessly before rushing out of the room and into the darkness. Lolita's breath left her body as her consciousness also followed. Her glassy eyes fluttered shut as her blood oozed out of her body like slime.

Next morning

The smell of perfume lingers around the room. Lolita's eyes slowly drift open. Her blue eyes scan her position. The heavy table feels as if it is cutting her waist in half. Her body aches. She slowly lifts the table up. She sits up with slight pain before she gets up. She tries to stop her tears as she sees the number of nightmare blue bruises that were decorated on her body through a shard of the mirror. She gasps as she continues to examine her beaten body. She feels like a punching bag. She was quickly taken back by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Where is my beautiful baby Lisa!"

A manly voice excitedly shouts from the living room. Lolita's heart races as she has a feeling of ecstasy wave over her. Panic courses through her veins. She needs to hide this scene and her bruised body. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out.

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