She doesn’t remember much of who she was before the revolution, just snippets - Yves, Chuu, the medallion, a little girl who helped her, and the glittering halls of some place she can’t put a name on. Anastasia AU.

Every time Kahei comes home after a night off, she smells of a different shampoo.

When the envoys of the far off human kingdom bring their tributes to the Queen of the fae, they bring in a princess with them, veiled and frail. There’s a surprise among court, whispers floating around: human sacrifice isn’t a thing they do. 

Gahyeon finished the flower crown and put it on Bora’s head.

Bora’s usual haunting grounds are demolished to make way into a “shopping mall”, whatever are those.

The kitchen smelled like herbs.

The worst flowers to cough are larkspurs, because they always seem to come on the branch, scratching at Yoobin’s throat and tinting the purple of the petals with blood.

Siyeon watched, from the door, as Yoobin slowly put the silver chain.

Every maid in the palace is half in love with princess Yoobin.

Yoobin watched the sun go down, slowly, already at the threshold of their house.

Handong regretted the day she’d met Gahyeon, for it had set her fate into motion.

“Siyeon, right?” She asked, rhetorical, and the girl gave her a curt, stiff nod. She started to clean her hands, staring at Siyeon. “Well, it’s going to be an expensive fix. Upwards two thousand struanes, I think. Old ships tend to be like that, you know? Impossible to predict.” Siyeon looked baffled. Handong counted down the seconds to the explosion. “Old ship? This baby is from a few months ago, I bought it new!”

Humming along the soft tone of the radio in the kitchen, Yoohyeon finished tying her tie in the mirror, hair already tied up.

There’s a new tattoo shop nearby, where the old fishing gear shop had been.

She could spot several places where she had overstitched, then in a futile effort to correct it, she managed to understitch it. Good job, Siyeon, she mentally chastised herself.

Bora looks at the pirate queen in front of her, and shows a smile with too many pointed teeth. She flicks her tail, shining gold and red on the sunset, and accidentally flicks some saltwater on her immaculately white pants.

She’s all magic - it’s the way she moves her ringed fingers, weaving pink tendrils into reality.

The rain made a soft sound against the window.

The smell of bread and coffee filled the air of Kahei’s favorite bakery.

"Storm's coming, lucky", the sea captain said, looking through his spyglass into the horizon.

Haseul looked at the elf, who was more focused on try to take aim. Sure, they were on the same subjugation party, but Jungeun felt absent, far away, as if any moment she’d fly away. 

Sooyoung hissed, the feeling of the disinfectant foreign and familiar at the same time. Haseul glanced at her, and then around: one never knew what was laying around, in wait, hoping for a moment of weakness.

The diner they met in had the worst leather seats Jeongyeon had the displeasure of sitting.

Hyejoo looked at the magic sparking from her fingertips, flowing in grey waves that were deadly. Heejin, by her side, cocked her head, staring at it.

Yangyang really was about to write r/legaladvice’s wildest post yet - “Can I (20M) force the ghost (100+M) haunting my dead grandfather’s (87M) house to pay rent?”. It probably would send him to the front page by the sheer craziness of it.

Problems with the living? Unhappy with eternity? Is death the problem and not the solution? Do you have problems adjusting to your new condition? CALL NOW BEETLEJUICE

Sooyoung, through the ages.

People, Jungeun found out, were a lot like what they ordered at the coffee shop.