Yellow Goth Novels & Stories

I was dressed in A yellow long-sleeved A-shaped dress with long black tights under. I wanted to wear jeans but I didn't have much with me because the clothes that were in the wardrobe were all gotten by Alejandro's for Iris Silver and most of them were in the colour yellow. Iris Silver hates the color yellow so I was told by Paul Silver but somehow most of the dresses for her were in the colour yellow. I didn't dislike the color. It was part of my favorite color so if Alejandro had gotten it to piss her off, then he didn't win because sadly

“Okay! What about the other colors? We could do two or three. I don’t really mind either way, but I feel like two lighter colors would look better.” I nodded in agreement and flipped through more pages. “Here!” I exclaimed, showing him a page. “We could do a light yellow and grey with it.” Zarek wrinkled his nose. “I like the grey, but the yellow… it doesn’t feel right.” “What about this color?” I pointed to a peach shade, softer and less vibrant. “It seems like a good background color.” Zarek’s lips curled into a smile. “If we find flowers like this, they’d look so pretty with the green!” He paused, considering the grey again. “But could we do white instead of grey? The grey feels gloomy.”

“I want to show it to you and if you somehow liked it then I’ll give it to you. Before you say anything else, I do like the car but it’s really not for me. I’m more of a motorcycle type of guy.” “...” “Come on let me show you.” After walking for a few more meters they then went down the parking space below the building. “Here it is!” Grey was stunned when he saw the car, it was beautiful as Yuan said it was. A muscle car that he was dreaming to get when he was in high school. “How did you manage to end up with a car like this and now you want to give it to me??” Grey said. “This car looks really great.” Nick added.

Derek Stygian’s stripper's club was bathed in a deep red light. The kind that makes everything look darker than it really was. Shadows moved along the walls as slow music played through hidden speakers, the bass low and steady like a heartbeat. The air felt hot with sin, heavy with smokes of their cigarettes, filled with sweat of the male strippers and the tables were filled with expensive alcohol. Not everyone in the city was allowed into Stygian's secret cult. Only those who are ready to sell their soul for discretion are allowed in.

Jump says, her eyes going wide. "This is big," Hothead says, dropping his luggage. Even I must admit, Yellow Sun Academy is unlike anything I have ever seen. Yellow Sun Academy looks like a giant, shining, white castle. It looks bigger than our hometown. There are dozens of towers, shining as well. They're hidden behind a large stone wall, with the only entrance being a tall iron gate, and painted right on the iron gate is a yellow sun. The stone path we're on leads us through a beautiful courtyard with lush green grass and big red bushes. On the sides of the path are statues of who I can only guess are past fighters of the Yellow Sun Academy and even they are shining.

But Lucien, in his perverse control, had deemed it necessary to fill my wardrobe with hues of vibrant yellows, pinks, and blues. Resigned, I select a royal yellow gown that catches my eye. Its flowing fabric and intricate embroidery hint at its regal origins. As I slip into the dress, its vibrant hue envelopes me, casting a golden glow upon my skin. I cannot deny the allure it bestows, the way it accentuates my features and commands attention.

After kissing Shelby’s forehead tenderly, In Gannon’s deep voice, he says, “Shelby, you know you can tell me anything right?” Shelby nods in response but the tears continue to flow even as her eyes glow yellow. The yellow color of her normally brown eyes, is a sign not only of her distress, but also of her heritage. “Okay, so then please, tell me what has you running into my office and sobbing into my chest?”

Spadino is standing there. He is leaning against the frame. He looks shy. Hesitant. He is twisting his ring on his finger. "I picked the yellow," he says. "Aureliano wanted white. Ciro wanted grey. But I said no." He walks into the room. He looks at the walls. "Yellow is happy," he says. "It’s like the sun. Babies need sun." He looks at me. "Is it... is it okay?" I look at him. I look at the crib. I look at the yellow walls.

Nicole's POV Yellow. That was the first thing. Not a shape, not a place, just the colour itself, saturated and specific, the particular yellow of something that had been chosen rather than assigned, the yellow of a person who knew what they wanted and picked it without apology. A dress.

Undoubtedly, arguing with him would lead to nothing because he would win everytime. Instead I tried a different route. "I will need time to get ready, and there's not enough time." "Then yellow is the new funeral color." I looked down at my glaring yellow sundress that reached a couple inches above my knees. One little tug, and the brown mark of his handprint around my thigh would say hello to the world. At the reminder, my hand shot up to my neck, and my head shook madly. "I'm not going anywhere like this." He neared, the tip of his thumb skimming over a spot on my neck, and it sent a wave of electricity dancing across my skin.