Underground
  • Reads 8,891
  • Votes 343
  • Parts 16
  • Time 2h 52m
  • Reads 8,891
  • Votes 343
  • Parts 16
  • Time 2h 52m
Ongoing, First published Dec 12, 2023
[Jareth, Goblin King x Reader] 

"No one could blame you, 
For walking away. 
Too much rejection, 
No love injection. 

Life can't be easy, 
It's not always well, 
Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl, 
'Cause it hurts like Hell. 

But down in the underground, 
You'll find someone true. 
Down in the underground, 
A land serene, a crystal moon, 

Ah, 

It's only forever, 
Not long at all. 
Lost and lonely, 
That's underground
Underground." 


Being a professional performer, you didn't always have a lot of free time at home. Because of this, your, now ex, fiancé cheats and you catch him in the act. 

Out of anger, you wish him away to the goblins. But you can't stand the thought of him being trapped there-you'd loved him once, didn't that mean something? 

You decide to run the labyrinth in hopes to save your ex. Along the way, you encounter mythical creatures and a connection with the Goblin King himself. 

Is life in the Underground so bad?

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56 parts Complete

In the final days of autumn, a young princess climbs her favourite tree clutching a folded star of paper to her aching heart. Contained within its crisp lines are recountings of her dreams and darings... and a plea that she might, at last, be welcomed home. With a kiss for luck, she tosses her star to the southbound winds, and stumbles her way to a crumbling cottage in the deep woods. Years pass and the constellations spin, her pleas have gone unanswered. The princess grows, and her uncertainties are buried beneath the gentle earth of spurned hopes. It is now, when she has almost forgotten how to wish on morning stars, that an invitation of smoke and dream light arrives, carried on horseback by soldiers of a different kingdom; the Dark Moon Ball might prove her salvation. She does not yet know that love is an exquisite, wretched thing and that wishes are fickle as wisp light. She does not yet know that paths of magic have their own sense of poetry, and walking them presses footprints into the deepest sands of self, remaining even as the stars and seasons turn. She does not yet know that home is where you keep your north star.