#Troll movie (1986) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justbelievinginmagic · 3 months ago

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ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 8: a green-eyed monster.

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader, jisung x fem!reader, jisung & fem!reader, chan & 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: pulled from the depths of the direwoods, you are reunited with han & chris! outside the labyrinth walls together, you continue onwards on your quest until a green-eyed monster disrupts your journey. 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, faerie lore, world-building, pain, blood, explicit language, magic, Jisung is emotional constipated, J E A L O U S Y, hunger, mentions of food, heights, falling, betrayal, hyunjin’s going through it, lowkey obsession? lemme know if i need to tag anything else :) word count: 7.2k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

“You’ve befriended the Beast-Hunter?” Jisung scolded, tugging her to the side with a harsh hand.

Chris stood steady at her side, stepping with her as he glared at Jisung solidly. There was a tension she could feel bubbling in the air like carbonation in a soda pop. Like a firecracker’s rope-like tail sizzling with flames but not yet sent into the sky. There was an itching under Chris’ skin to protect – to do what he hadn’t been able to do earlier.

“Chris was in trouble, and I helped him,” Y/N defended easily.

The Beast-Hunter nodded firmly; his brows furrowed in a way that looked defensive. Jisung forced a fanged-smile at the man as he scooted himself and the Runner away from the other again, a mimicry of privacy on this open cobble-stoned road.

Chris shifted his feet side to side, watching after them carefully but not moving any closer this time. She offered Chris a genuine reassuring smile, as if to say one moment, before turning fully to look at the poutful fae man in front of her.

“How could a Troll like him be in danger?” Jisung muttered under his breath. His brows were upturn, the image of despair and worry. “You could’ve been crushed by him. Or he could’ve clawed your throat out.” He hadn’t let go of her arm, holding her close as he muttered.

Strange, the flare of protectiveness in him. It burned like coals on the back of his neck. He imagined Chris’ claws, his troll-like side coming out. Rocks tumbling on the Runner and trembled. The fae man wasn’t used to this. He had been so alone for so long, thinking only of himself but now… He saw the smear of blood and dirt on her face, the brushed away rune of ‘mine’ on her cheek taunting him.

The Runner didn’t push herself out of his grasp despite the distrust bubbling up in her stomach. Frustration written out in her face with the purse of her brow, the firm of her lips.

“He won’t hurt me, or you,” she reassured, shaking her head confidently. Out of everyone, she trusted Chris the most so far. He hadn’t abandoned her, a bittered voice reminded in the depths of her mind.

“Chan is a literal hunter, Y/N. I’m not just making accusations. It’s in his soul.” he whispered. “He could be lying to you!”

“And what about you, Lord Han?” she bit back, her words just as whispered.

Chris looked away from them awkwardly; the entire scenario a bit too much like a couple fighting or mom-and-dad arguing in front of their child. His gaze instead was enraptured by the creatures floating from the nearby darkness of the Direwoods. Odd butterfly yet jelly-fish like creatures swam through the air like it was water; tendrils of bio-luminescence trailed behind them as they danced around the Beast-Hunter. Swirls of azure, magenta, and emerald dust hung in the air like stars left behind by the creatures.

His grey eyes followed after each one with amusement until one jelly-fly swooped down into a dive to rest on his broad-scarred nose. He giggled softly, letting the creature rest for a moment.

“Lord Han has nothing to do with this,” Jisung whispered back in the meanwhile. His hand dropped from her arm.

“Really?” The Runner scoffed. “It sounds like a big thing! A thing you kept from me.”

“You never asked how I knew the King,” he retorted like a brat.

“Han,” she scolded, loudly now.

Did she have to ask everything to get an answer? She wouldn’t assume they knew one another to that extent. A man stuck on the outskirts of the desert was a lord? It didn’t even cross her mind.

He winced with the jump in volume. “Well, you didn’t,” he insisted.

“Friendship is supposed to be a two-way street,” she replied. “I shouldn’t have to ask if you are something to be feared when we are working together. With the same goal. Are we friends? I thought we were – you aren’t working for the King, are you?” Her words sounded less confident. “You said—” she trailed off.

Lord implies royalty. Royalty down here implies the King. A Goblin court sounded important, exclusive, and most importantly, his. Hyunjin and Jisung’s interaction flashed through her mind in a whirl of cellophane memories – was he truly cruel to Jisung? Was it all a façade like many things in this place? Her eyes flashed to meet Jisung’s, pleading with him to tell the truth of his own. On his own.

Jisung’s face was purple-tinted as he blushed. Sweat clung to the back of his hair; his scaled skin there itched. He swallowed; his tongue was heavy like lead.

“It’s not like that,” he argued, shaking his head. His head whirled as he felt the lead feeling grow, a metallic taste clinging to his teeth and making his jaw ache.

She raised a brow.

“I’m--- it’s not like that,” he insisted again. “I haven’t been called a lord in a long, long time. I-I wasn’t even really a lord. It’s just a title.”

“Han. . . “ she huffed out.

“I’m not a lord anymore I promise. I am not a Lord under the King’s court anymore.”

“You got to admit, its sus–”

He covered his face, frustratedly, as he let out a whiney sigh. The way his face ached only made his panic surge like fire-fed kindling. His breathing escalated as he shut his eyes for a moment. He wasn’t lying; he wasn’t answering her question; he wasn’t. Those thoughts circled in his head like a carousel as he took a breath, fast and hurried. The way ancient magic twisted through the fae DNA was a wicked thing – the way its rules clung to his blood and bone was frightening to him.

I’m not lying. Not lying. So why did it feel like it?

“I know—I know it looks bad.” He soothed her through quick words. “I’m your friend, just – trust me?”

There was a beat as she stepped closer and reached for his hands that covered his face, a face that was a purple-blushed color. Of embarrassment. His eyes wide as he met her gaze.

This was coming from the man who had left her behind twice. The same man who said he’d lead her to the beginning to Hyunjin. But, also the man who helped her multiple times in the Labyrinth. The same man she declared to be a friend. The same man who had just saved her from the Direwoods, who had sat and hugged her like she would disappear, who tended to her wounds with a gentleness.

That was no little thing.

Her hands were warm against his skin; his blush-lavender skin was cool to the touch, almost like the chill of metal. He breathed out shakily at the gentle touch.

“Be honest with me. Please?” She asked softly. The tone different than when they were speaking hushedly before. It was quiet and gentle. Vulnerable.

His eyes widened even more and his lips shifted a few times as if phrasing words he couldn’t say. He looked at her despairingly weak. His head in her hands. Humans weren’t supposed to be powerful, yet here she was.

“Please.” The Runner whispered. “Be honest with me.”

Her eyes looked so… bewitching. Both vulnerable, pleading, yet in control. Gentle yet serious. A begging for him, not her. Not in a way where she needed to be saved or reassured though. It was odd how he felt like he needed to be saved, reassured, something. He felt bad. He felt it deep in his stomach. Like he was doing something wrong if he didn’t tell her.

The lie-sticky tongue, the lead-heavied mouth. He swallowed it down, and it settled in the pit of his stomach, only making him feel worse. But he could speak. Honesty. He breathed as he tried to think of what was honest and what wasn’t. What could he tell the Runner and what could he not.

“It’s—okay,” he tilted his head up, rubbing his eyes. His hands pushed hers aside gently, freeing himself from her grasp.

“The King and I used to be friends. I used to be his Gentleman-in-Waiting.”

Her eyes widened.

“What?” she squawked.

“It was like over fifty years ago now,” he muttered out, hand going to scratch at the scales on the back of his neck. “It’s not that important I promise!”

“Han!” she hit at his arm.

“Its really not.” He defended. “We aren’t friends anymore. I’m no longer his Gentleman-in-Waiting after I—well, I may have ridiculed him.” He admitted.

She hit his arm again.

“Owww!” he whined, hand going to bicep. He rubbed it up and down. “Stop that.”

“What do you mean ridicule him?” she gasped.

Jisung’s eyes looked away. “I just--- I did something. We were playing a game and we disagreed.” Well, Hyunjin disagreed. He remembered the ancient playing cards being thrown aside. Hyunjin’s hair bleeding into a raven-black in his rage. He was dancing about the truth; his metaphorical cards shuffled about in his fingers. He fiddled with her bracelet on his wrist.

“You and him had a fight?” she inferred. “No wonder he seemed so cruel to you. And no wonder he hated that I was paired up with you. What else happened?”

Jisung’s face was consumed by a pout now; brow upturn like a kicked puppy. “I don’t want to talk about it – it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t affect you.”

“What if it does? Please – “, he placed a hand over her mouth.

“It won’t; we are separate things to him,” he reassured. “I am nothing to the King now. You… are everything.”

The way his tongue didn’t taste of iron made his heart ache. He believed it. He believed that the Runner was important – not only that, that Hyunjin had taken an interest. Hyunjin had never been so invested in a Runner. Not when he was of court at least. The Prince would often ignore the Runner’s Challenge. But now, the heavy fruit in his satchel was a reminder of this new truth.

The Runner sighed out, her hot breath against his clammy skin felt like fire. She reached up to pry his hand away from her mouth with ease. Her eyes looked away from his for once; it felt like an ill-won reward to his guilt.

Okay, so she had the King’s Beast-Hunter and the King’s once-upon-a-time best friend as her companions. . . great. Not complicated at all. She sighed out again, hands going through her own locks to tug at her scalp.

“Listen, I know you’re angry.” Jisung started.

“I’m not angry,” Y/N interrupted. “I just—it’d been helpful to know. Because, despite what you think, Han, friendships are important.”

Her friendship was important. She valued him. Valued his words. Valued his thoughts. Him.

His friendship therefore was important. He had valued him. He did value him. His words. His thoughts. As his.

He frowned, deflating a bit as he watched her tighten a bandage he placed around her arm before turning to look towards Chris.

The Beast-Hunter looked back at her as if he was called to her by simply her gaze. The butterfly-esque creature fluttered on his nose and left in a bio-luminscent whirl. A smile came to her lips at that, bittersweet to Jisung’s eyes.

“Chris, let’s go.”

The dark-haired Beast-Hunter smiled a grin. “Coming, Y/N!”

Jisung felt the fear creeping, a feeling he had felt far too often in his long life. Memories of Hyunjin’s cruel gaze turning his way as he banished him away – he feared that when she turned that the Runner’s eyes would carry that gleam.

When she gazed at him, he held his breath.

“Are you joining me?” she asked Jisung.

The air sucked out of his lungs as he watched her. Drenched in rubied iron-blood, her face tired and yet somehow glowing from the candlelight above them. Her eyes held no cruelty – exhaustion, carefulness, but they were still kind. She was still kind to him. He didn’t know how to handle it except that it lit a flame beneath his skin like a roar of a Dragon’s flame.

She was a force of nature. She was changing from the Labyrinth, but unlike a Changeling, she was evolving with her humanity rather than abandoning it. And Jisung liked it.

“Y-Yeah.” He bumbled. “We can go this way.” He encouraged; hand outstretched towards the path he remembered would lead them towards the Castle.

She smiled at him, and it was holy.

The fruit in his satchel was heavier.

Jisung led the way, flickering eyes checking that they were following every few moments. He didn’t trust the Beast Hunter. Even with his gentle way of handling the Runner, he felt the acrid burn in his throat.

It didn’t make sense. The troll-fae with sawed-off horns, torn skin from brutal attacks, and chipped fangs from battles. . . yet he seemed innocent. There was wonder in his eyes; he didn’t slash the creatures down in front of him. He spoke to Y/N with a softness. A warmth Jisung envied. It would’ve made the lesser-goblin laugh in other situations. Hells, Chris still wore the iron-shackles of the King’s knights around his neck. Like a trophy. Jisung knew how the iron burned a lowly fae; he knew if he reached out to grasp the chains he’d feel the sear of pain.

How could he bear it? No.

No, if anything, Jisung knew that Chris was not an innocent.

He was not an innocent.

No way.

The curl in his gut had to be right. (The taste of jealousy was sour and drawing.)

“Stupid troll,” Jisung muttered as he pushed branches aside.

“Don’t be mean,” the Runner chided, ducking beneath the branches he had moved aside.

Jisung let the branches flick back into Chris’ face with a thwack. The Beast-Hunter grunted out, a strong arm raising to block the hit.

“Jisung,” she scolded, his true name coming to her lips in a sharp thwack of her own.

Jisung simmered in his emotions; lava-hot in the pit of his stomach as he walked ahead of them. A hand rubbed at her bracelet on his wrist once more, rolling the beads and charms in between anxious fingertips.

The path ahead was lined with curling weeping willows, trapping them in by makeshift branch-walls. Skeleton-esque finger-like branches reached out blocking their way. A wind would rustle them every now and then making the trees feel alive. She was glad to remain on the given path for now. She didn’t really want to climb or run through muck and mud again. Her body hadn’t ached so much in ages. She wanted to fall into a bed and sleep for ages.

On top of that, she was growing hungry. Her stomach grumbled loudly as they walked along. She wondered how many hours had gone by. It felt like more than 13 hours had passed. And it wouldn’t surprise her if it wasn’t fair. Nothing down here was what it seems. Hours could be minutes, moments, or ages.

“So, you are a troll fae?” the Runner queried to the ever-on-her-heels Beast-Hunter. “I met a few; they didn’t look like you.”

Chris hadn’t left her side, hulking through the branches without flinching. When she could she tried to leave the path clear, pushing sharpened foliage with an arm, but Chris was larger than her. He’d bend down and pass through her openings but, at some point, he began to just barrel through.

He was hypervigilant, just as Jisung was (with a hand on his dagger’s hilt.) Looking this way and that with careful stony eyes. He looked at her, eyes widening as she spoke. He looked at her with a careful awe, smiling at her words.

“Yeah,” he crowed out, his Australian-esque accent curling around the word. “I’d look a bit different. I’m a troll-fae from your realm.”

“My realm?” she paused in her step.

Chris kept walking onwards, but slowed his steps and faced her as he continued on.

“Yeah, all original trolls hail from the human realm. Cursed to wander only in the dark of night or else we’re turned to stone,” he recited. He snorted shaking his head. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen the human realm or had to worry about that rule.”

The Runner blinked, surprised to find out that not all fae were original to the Labyrinth. How did he end up here? Was everyone a transplant?

“How did you end up here in the Labyrinth?” she asked. “The only trolls I’ve seen… er, met, were in the oubliette. And, uh, stone.” She added awkwardly.

Chris’s grey eyes turned stormy-dark. Not like Hyunjin’s storm blue eyes. It felt like they grew heavy in his head, dull.

“It’s not a fun story, Y/N.” he admitted quietly. “I—I don’t like talking about it.” A hand rose to rub the hair at the nape of his neck.

There was a rock in the middle of the road, as if thrown there from the nearby wall of the Labyrinth. It was chunky, made of cemented different rocks of all shades and sizes. There was the ever-present sparkle of magic-remnant in its core. The group walked around it easily.

“Oh,” she muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he hummed out, accent warming as he kicked a pebble and watched it roll with a gleam in his eye. “I was really little when I was in the human realm. All trolls now live on the outskirts of the Shadow of the Castle, beyond the Goblin City – there is a mire there. That’s where I lived with my mother until I had to train.”

She could imagine a damp-wetlands beyond the desert sea, beyond tangled criss crossing pathways, beyond the rot of the Labyrinth. She could smell salt-water of a murky bog, taste it on her lips.

“How did you become the Beast-Hunter?” she asked instead.

“Its less of a title and more of a being, Y/N,” Jisung called behind his shoulder. “His father was the Beast-Hunter; Chan is the Beast-Hunter; his offspring will be the Beast-Hunter.”

She remembered Chris saying that – she simply thought it was pride. He was the best she had thought. She squinted her brows wondering how that worked. Was it, like, a bloodline? Like royalty?

Chris nodded solemnly. “He’s right,” he confirmed. “Woven by ancient magic; it’s my duty to the Goblin King. My family’s duty forevermore to be their Hunter.”

Interesting was all she could think as she dodged a scratchy piece of foliage with sharpened red thorns. More bushes began to decorate the sides of the path. Most were dry, dead things in shades of umber, tan, and rotting green. Other had the flicker of life, magic-remnant sparkling in the candlelight of the nearby maze. Small flowers of red burst forth on their branches.

“If you’re a troll, what is Han?” she asked then glancing over at Jisung. His hand tossed a pretty dagger up into the air, catching it easily and swiftly as he glanced around them, cautiously. Nervous. Always so goddamn nervous.

“Him. . . “ Chris glanced back at the other with a tilt to his head. His pouty lips quirked. “He looks common-blooded? A lesser-goblin?” he offered, eyes squinting a bit.

“Rude to talk about blood lines,” Jisung reminded over his shoulder, tutting.

“Is a troll common-blooded?” she grunted, ignoring the other’s scold as she climbed over a root in the middle of the road.

Chris’s laughter was bubbling like a water’s brook meeting a swamp as he shook his head. “No way!” he giggled as if she had said a very funny joke.

“What is a troll-fae then?” she countered, smiling a bit despite being wrong.

“We are strong for one. We are valued for our magic’s strength, our strong will, and our strong fighting abilities. We are seen as loyal,” He explained.

“Guard dogs – brutes – hunters with no remorse,” Jisung mumbled under his breath as he began to scale a large boulder-esque chunk of cobblestoned wall in the way of the road. It made a divot in the path, scattered brink littered everywhere.

Looking to the side, Y/N saw the Labyrinth wall closest to her look full and well. So how did this end up here? With small grunts, he managed to uproot himself to the top of the thing before he turned and offered his hand to Y/N.

“C’mon.”

Grabbing his hand, she was hoisted up as well. It hurt a bit as she was tugged against rough rock but Chris soon swept under her to push her the rest of the way up. Jisung gave her a brief once-over, dark jewel-toned eyes careful over her form. The unfamiliar feeling bubbled up like lava in his heart.

She huffed out a breath as she got her footing, standing with Jisung. But, of course, Jisung turned his back to Chris.

“Jisung,” she couldn’t help but scold, his true name slipping out in her frustration. He paused in his step, glancing down at her like a kicked puppy. But he didn’t say a word, only pouted with those raspberry-bitten lips. Petulant.

The Runner turned and offered her hand to the lone troll-fae below.

“Here,” she encouraged.

She doubted she could pull him up by herself (he was all muscle and broadness), but she could try. She refused to leave him behind. Han watched from the sidelines, eyeing as she squatted and waited. (Too kind, too kind, too kind.)

The bulky man smiled at her, waving her off with blushed lavender cheeks.

“I can handle this; you and Lor- Han jump down to the other side.” Chris insisted.

Brows crinkled.

“You’re sure?” she queried, doubt in her voice.

Chris nodded solidly.

“C’mon, the Beast-Hunter says he’ll be fine; he’ll be fine,” Jisung tugged her arm, firm fingers pulling her attention away. “You’ve got a time limit, remember?” There was an urgency in his tone despite his almost bratty look on his face.

Nodding slowly, the Runner rose ‘til she was standing.

“Okay,” she murmured.

The pair scaled the cracks and curves of the large boulder until they finally saw the road on the other side. Jisung jumped first, landing with a thud before he turned and looked up to the Runner. Encouraging with a hand out.

She leapt, stumbling on the uneven brick. The shock absorbed into her body unpleasantly, springing up her shins with an ache.

“Good?” Jisung murmured under his breath. His hands wrapped around her arms steadingly– he must’ve tried to catch the Runner in her stumble. Looking up at him with a slight grimace, she nodded. Her eyes burned with a pain but she blinked through it and nodded again. Jisung squeezed her arms reassuringly before taking a step back.

He hated seeing her hurt he realized. His ribs ached as he took a shaky breath in. Despair and worry crawled in his veins like maggots. He couldn’t imagine her going through the change – the look of independence in her eyes dulling until they’re fogged by the Change. Jisung had seen it happen over and over again. Would she be a cognizant Changeling…? He couldn’t see her falling to the darker Threads of the Change. Fur and tooth and nail wouldn’t become her – and surely the King didn’t want a goblette. The deal wasn’t something like that. Would she be forgetful? Would she be obedient? Would she be lost in a dreamscape?

She turned her back to the common-fae to look at the rock. Looking for Chris over the crown of the rock remains in front of them.

“Just wait,” Jisung muttered, rolling his eyes out of her sight.

There was a rumble. Low and humming. It grew slowly, louder and louder until she could see the boulder in front of them begin to tremble with the frequency. Her eyes widened in surprise, taking a tentative step backwards in preparation. Jisung’s hand slid down her arm, slow, soothing, until he grasped her hand in his. The Runner tore her gaze from the rock for a moment to look at her companion.

Jisung didn’t look stressed. In fact, he looked almost bored. His chin gestured to the rock once more when he caught her gaze. The rock’s trembling was almost palpable until with a loud BOOM. The rock cracked. In half, cleanly. Revealing, a bashful Chris who smiled amongst the dust and magic-remnant particles floating through the air.

Y/N’s mouth parted into a little ‘o’; her eyes wide in surprise.

“Hey!” he crowed, easily climbing through the rock they had scaled.

“You had to show off rather than just doing that in the first place?” Jisung scolded lightly, turning away from the fae man. He didn’t let go of the Runner’s hand, forcing her to turn her body slightly.

Chris huffed, the dust clinging to his curls pillowing up into a cloud as he shook his head, almost dog-like. “I wasn’t showing off,” he argued. His eyes shifted back onto the Runner. “Much.” He admitted with a laugh in his voice.

It made the Runner laugh, his tone so light hearted and comfortable, it encouraged her to do the same. Jisung’s fingers clung to her tighter.

“So, you can break things?” she confirmed.

“No, no,” Jisung interrupted her.

“Rock – anything made of earth, I can manipulate.” Chris interrupted Jisung’s interruption. “Trolls and stone come from the same Thread.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, you thought they became stone just ‘cause?” Chris continued, teasingly.

She shook her head lightly, not exactly scolding and not exactly answering his question. “We’ve got to keep going… cool trick.” She admitted as they turned their backs on the broken slab of rock.

The Runner didn’t look to see how Chris preened, rubbing the back of neck and fluffing the hair there. Jisung glared at him.

The trio walked along once more. Rather than a Labyrinth of walls, she swore they were on an endless cobblestone path. It reminded her of the Wizard of Oz, another favorite of her childhood. The bricks beneath her feet made her muscles ache; the pattern becoming sloppier and sloppier as they twisted this way and that through a forest.

It was a while later when her stomach growled and grumbled again. The low pain of her hunger was hard to ignore when there was nothing around them

“Keep an eye out for anything that could be food,” she commented casually.

Around them the bushes were fairly bare, dry and desolate pushed against the wall of the Labyrinth and the cliffside of the Direwoods’ darkness.

“You’re hungry?” Chris queried from behind her.

They had taken up a line sort of arrangement – Jisung led, the Runner followed, and Chris kept watch from the rear. She looked back at him with a gentle smile.

She nodded. “It feels like I’ve been here for days rather than hours. I think its magic.”

“Or the fact you’ve been beaten up so badly,” Chris said, frowning at her wounds.

“Or that,” she chuckled, stretching her limbs until they cracked a bit. Her entire body still ached. What she wouldn’t do for a moment to rest.

Jisung was quiet; the fruit in his satchel heavy as it swayed on his belt. He could give her the fruit Hyunjin gave him. But. . . he didn’t know what would happen. Probably nothing good.

“There’s got to be some berries around here,” Chris reassured, looking to the brush off the path. He took on a sort of prowl as he looked through the bushes with careful eyes.

It was odd how suddenly there were more and more fruit on the bushes as they continued to trek onwards – as if the Labyrinth heard her request. Berries of different colors, shapes, and sizes decorated some of the prickly looking bushes. To her human mind, the thorns warned of danger. But Chris reached out and plucked one from the bushel, humming low.

“How about—” Chris couldn’t even finish his sentence before the once Gentleman-In-Waiting piped up, head snapping to look at the fruit in the other’s fingers.

“No, no, humans eat different things,” Jisung argued, stopping in his tracks, and turning to the Beast-Hunter. “Those berries might poison her.”

“I was going to give her berries we could eat,” Chris retorted, squishing the berry in between his fingertips with a splurt. Deep magenta stained his fingers like blood. Jisung took a few steps off the road to examine the berry the other had plucked with careful eyes. The flesh of the berry was tossed to the barren ground as Chris rose his fingers to his nose, sniffing deeply before wrinkling his nose and rubbing the thick juice on his trousers.

“Humans and fae aren’t the same. She’s all iron-blood and squish.” Jisung continued, prodding at the Beast-Hunter’s tough arm childishly as if to make a point.

“Hey, its alright. We can look later. I just wanted to mention it,” the Runner soothed, stepping off the path to join the two. The two men paused in their mutterings and bickerings.

“This is probably another one of his tests,” she said, looking over the bushes she didn’t remember having berries moments ago. If they had been there, wouldn’t she had noticed? There were sparkling in the candlelight of the nearby Labyrinth walls.

Jisung hummed in agreement; the Beast-Hunter following his lead after a moment.

“Maybe,” Chris murmured. “Is he that cruel?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But its strange to be around all of these berries suddenly.”

Jisung glanced about. The fruit were dusted in magic; not like the fruit he carried in his satchel. It felt heavier by the moment. He licked his lips.

“Yeah,” the Beast Hunter murmured.

“Let’s just get back on track – Jisung, you know the entrance to the Labyrinth, right?” she asked. “Its close?”

She hoped it was. She hoped she was growing closer. As she turned to look back where they were headed, the world around them had shifted. The walls of the Labyrinth were closer than before (she could reach out and touch it) – the path they had been on gone and replaced by a dirt road.

An entrance stared at them – literally. A stoney face of granite glared down from above the doorway. Cursed troll, forced to bear the weight of the archway. Forevermore.

“Yeah,” Jisung muttered. Pointing at the nearby entrance obviously.

It wasn’t like the original entrance with its grand gate. No, this was an open archway with the statuesque face staring at them with old deep eyes. Strange how a rock could bear such humanistic eyes.

“Beware.” The troll-stone murmured, the cracking of stone thundering and grating. “Nothing is as it seems.”

The Runner couldn’t stop the scoff that left her throat as she walked forwards, approaching the entry. It was the dumbest advice to give. She knew that. The Labyrinth was always full of surprises.

“Thanks,” she mumbled nonetheless as she, and the duo behind her, re-entered the Labyrinth walls. Stairwells on either side of her trapped them in. Turning around the entry was gone, and they were stuck in the brick-walls once more.

“Which way?” she wondered briefly.

“Right or left?” Jisung countered, boba-big eyes looking one way and then the other.

“Right’s always right,” she teased before arbitrarily moving towards the right stairwell and climbing the stairs.

It wasn’t endless stairs luckily (Y/N would rather die than attempt that.) In no time they were high above the Labyrinth walls, on a catwalk of sorts with turrets and well-walked cobblestone floors. Looking down upon the maze, the view was beautiful. She could look down into the gardens, the courtyards, the twisting paths of the Labyrinth, all casted in a golden hue of candlelight. The castle was in front of her, far as ever. But Y/N knew it was not to be believed. One couldn’t truly trust their eyes here.

Continuing onwards, the elevated walk way, a guard rampart she noted, bore things she didn’t think she’d walk past. Abandoned weapons of wood and copper. Things rusted from the cold wet air of the cave. Cannons and cannon balls made of what looked like plant matter rather than cement. This was clearly a wall walk – a part of the Labyrinth guards would utilize in battle surely. It had turret openings covered in soot and dust; portions of the rock blown to bits from what looked like gun fire.

It was odd she was allowed her she noted. Looking far below, she saw guards patrol the maze below. The trio kept close to the exterior wall.

“Are there other kingdoms beyond the Goblin Castle and the Labyrinth?” Y/N queried, tone low, glancing over to Jisung first and then Chris. Both would know… with their familiarity with the King.

This didn’t look like age or rot; this looked like a battle.

Jisung was rounding around a large chunk of the destroyed rampart wall as her question reached his ears. His eyes widened as he swallowed.

“There are,” Chris answered quietly. “The Underground is vast.”

“The Goblin Kingdom is by far the most protected.” Jisung added almost as if defending Hyunjin.

The Runner snorted. “Yeah, with all of this,” she gestured around them. “It’s hard to get to the Castle in the first place with its tricks.”

“That and there is power in numbers,” Jisung commented. “The Goblin King had a large military from guards to knights to generals of war.

How many of those numbers were wish-stolen? Were they Changeling Goblins? Would she be one of the numbers soon? It made a shiver go down her spine.

They finally had braved the more destroyed parts of the watch-tower walls. The walk along the wall was simple, unlike the twisting and turning of the maze below.

“Where are the guards up here?” she wondered aloud as they walked along. “They are all down below.”

Chris’ brows rose in surprise, glancing at the nearby watchtower. It was empty despite its golden glow of the torch flame atop its roof.

“No need to guard anything near the Direwoods,” he said.

“The Sluagh would take care of them,” Jisung agreed, speeding up to walk beside the Runner.

The unending prodding in his skull was irritating. Give her the fruit, give her the fruit, give it to her. It was beyond himself, a voice that sounded too much like Hyunjin for him to be confident the King wasn’t in his head. The peach in his satchel hit against his thigh with every step. Taunting.

“You alright, Y/N?” Chris’ voice tore Jisung from his thoughts, looking over at Y/N. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her gaze unfocused for a moment. His hand shot out instinctively, grasping her arm.

The Runner wasn’t certain what came over her. Dizziness, her stomach cramping, her head pulsing. Maybe it was the stress, the injuries that ached around her body, catching up to her. But wasn’t the Labyrinth supposed to ensure she wouldn’t die?

Not ensure she wouldn’t suffer she supposed.

Jisung’s hand on her arm made a ghost of a smile come to her lips. Chris followed up behind her, coming to her side with concerned grey eyes and a firm lip.

“I’m okay,” she told them. “I think it’s just, well, everything.” Both hands reached for her companion’s hands giving them a gentle squeeze.

“The first edible thing I see, you’re eating – and drinking! The moment we see good water,” Chris promised. He took protecting her seriously – even if he had failed with the fall into the Direwoods.

She smiled fondly. “Sounds like a plan.” She agreed. “Any food will do.”

Jisung felt like the world was mocking him at this point. Swallowing, he looked over her face. The ashen sweat that lingered on her brow made him concerned. Him! Concerned! What were these feelings? What if the peach was really alright? What if it was to help the Runner? A present of honest and truth?

No, Hyunjin wasn’t ever so kind.

But look at her. . .

She needed something.

Jisung’s free hand shifted to the satchel at his waist, tugging at its drawstrings. Fingertips brushed across the fruit’s firm skin. It was still unblemished, perfectly ripe with its lush orange-red hues watercolor-painted across its surface. The most perfect peach if there ever was one. His fingers curled around it tighter as he pulled it from the purse.

He rolled it between his palm for a moment. A heat danced over his neck, making him sweat as he lifted it up and towards the Runner.

With shut eyes, Jisung whispered. “Here, try this.” Revealing it with a heavy heart.

“Is that a peach?” the Runner inquired, glancing over. Wide eyes in surprise. Her mouth watered at its sight. “It looks perfect. You’ve had this the entire time?”

He forced a smile, a fanged grimace. “Y-Yeah.” The taste of iron ached to bite at his tongue as he tried to say that he forgot. He hadn’t. It had been on his mind since they had reunited. He had to give this peach. He had to.

“Why didn’t you mention it before?” Chris argued from her side. Face scrunching in disappointment and anger.

“I-I,” Jisung spluttered, unable to force a lie through his lips without the blood-iron taste filling his mouth. There was no way to answer him.

But the Runner, kind soul she was, squeezed Chris’ large hand and smiled.

“Its okay; I’m sure he forgot and got scared to mention it,” it was a tease but it was still her excusing him. Even with her ill-state. Her eyes were gentle as they settled back on Jisung. He felt a wave of guilt at the sight of her kindness.

She wasn’t a fae that was sure. Too kind, too sweet.

He offered a strained smile her way. He was too soft.

“You’re a life-safer, Han,” she hummed gratefully as she leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek, friendly and grateful. “Thank y-“ A crash of lightning interrupted her words.

Their necks snapped to the sound; there was a rumble unlike the rumble of Chris’ powers. It felt stronger as the earth began to tremble in a sort of earthquake. Turbulent and rough as she gripped onto Jisung’s arm. He squeezed the fruit; it didn’t dimple under his brute strength.

His eyes were panicked, breath caught as the literal brickwork around them began to crumble into nothing. Like they had never been there to begin with. It was like reality was unraveling.

“W-Wait,” Jisung mumbled as he pushed at her, trying to move them from their spots. Push her away if anything. But he was unable to; his limbs cement heavy. The birds stopped chirping; the world chilled to a freezing temperature. His eyes bulged out as he stared at the Castle in his locked vision. Hyunjin. Hyunjin!

“I warned you,” Hyunjin’s voice was heard like a whisper on the wind. Angered, petulant, venomous.

He was falling, falling, falling. The abyss below was dark and uncertain like a gaping maw of a monster. He felt her skin graze his, nails and finger tips digging into his arms as she tried to grasp onto him as Jisung fell through the once-there floor.

“Jisung!” The Runner screeched as she reached out for him into oblivion.

Deep in his Castle, there laid a true throne made of something ancient and magic. Far from his subjects’ chatter, it was locked behind iron lock and key. Inside was dark stone, cool as ice. The lone throne sat defying gravity as it hovered. Shimmering tendrils of the night sky made solid, like a slab of carved obsidian was carved into a high-backed throne. Stars reflected from its surface and magic hummed from deep within occasionally making blooms of red, blues, and greens dancing underneath the polished throne. It felt like a living thing, contained magic only for the King to revel in.

The coolness of the jewel-type surface typically soothed Hyunjin, but in the moment it burned like the icy depths of space. His form curled under himself, barren feet pressed firm on the seat of the throne as he hunched, monstrously, over his magic orbs.

His face was one of brutality, deep-ocean black eyes locked onto his magical bauble. The image of kiss was burned into his mind as reality bent to his will within the bubble, far off in his Labyrinth. He felt each stone fall away from reality, disappearing into shards of being, so Jisung couldn’t even grasp onto anything. Constraining the fae so he couldn’t move. His subjects were his to command and, in this moment, he used it to his full cosmic power.

Soft lips pressed against soft cheeks. Jisung’s wide eyes of surprise. The blush of rush. Her genuine gratefulness. Her gentleness. Her.

Her. Her. Her. Kissing him. Him. Him. Not Hyunjin. Him. She kissed him.

Jealousy wasn’t Hyunjin’s friend – even when it came to a simple kiss upon a cheek.

No, jealousy for a spoilt King showed itself in its ugliness. It carved down his cheeks in golden streaks of tears. His hair plastered against his honeyed sweat-slicked skin. Blood-shot eyes as he snarled wordlessly at the bauble. The room buzzed with electricity and a taste of bitter ozone as he felt the bite of envy.

She hadn’t looked at him like that. When he’d fought the world for her; manipulated time, manipulated his domain, everything for her. She wanted a hero. He was that for her – why couldn’t she see it?

Her eyes had gleamed. Her lips were sweet petal roses, curling so gentle into a smile she hadn’t given him before. His chest ached. Fingers curled, sharpened iron-tipped nails with rings and jewels dug into his palm.

Hyunjin let out a laugh as he felt the pain prick through him. His gaze finally leaving the bubble to see ichor of purple dripping to the Castle’s floor, painting it a royal blood. When was the last time he bled? Here was bleeding for a mere mortal – a soul he was going to steal and change and meld into a goblin of his own.

His breathing was wild as his gaze shifted to look between the darkening strands of hair. His blonde waves darkening into the black of a raven. The color leeched out slowly until it was as dark as his thick cloak that made his form too sweatied in his emotional rampage.

His stormy eyes settled back on the bubble to see the Runner fall in after his banished Gentleman-In-Waiting. In his jealous rage, the Goblin King forgot she was no subject of his – even as the Runner.

He had no power over her.

His concentration fell, the world settling back into reality with the cobblestone floor of the rampant wall bubbling into existence, but it was too late.

She was falling after Jisung – there was a blur of a figure following her – but Hyunjin didn’t care. No, he was whiplashed with rage. He threw the magic orb to the wall; the image shattering on impact as he let out a howl.

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