#not even touching the plots of the movies

[saint-starflicker]

I was surprised and confused when I heard that there's fanfiction-only readers, as in no contact with most of the source materials to read fanfiction of—I'm not disparaging that, because fanfiction is free and Millennials are seeing like a third or fourth "once-in-a-lifetime" economic recession in living memory, which is not what "once-in-a-lifetime" is supposed to mean, so I expect that the young'uns are probably even more always broke and even more broke. If you have fun reading fanfiction from the fandom of your friend who explained the source material via improv theater extemporaneous slam poetry reenactment summary and that (plus gifs of most dashboard-fillers' favorite moments) is your source...then, bless you. Your media literacy must be phenomenal and I mean that genuinely: if you can get into the fandom for a media and discuss or re-represent it with enough savvy to stay in the fandom, then I think either you're telepathic or the fandoms these days don't have as many canon purists. That's not a bad thing, that's just getting along with a different set of skills for a different context for a different pocket of society to be in than fandoms back in my day.

That said, reading a variety of prose can enrich your writing prose by mere exposure to it, and sometimes that means: book. Vocabulary, sentence length, or whatever other quirks might be notable from reading, are all things you can decide to avoid or adopt in your own writing. (I am not touching the explicitness of the human condition deepthemes in Real Literary Literature versus the instant-gratification entertainment, debate. I can deeptheme a David DeCoteau movie, I have and I would do it again.)

What I think is going unsaid in all the above comments—excellent discussion that I agree with—is that learning to read fiction with the evaluation of a fiction writer...is its own meta skill, though.

Even if you read a variety of original fiction, it could still be that you like "the writing" for flattering your worldview or having feelgood content or an action-packed plot structure rather than for "the writing" as in writing style. Being able to know that difference, and deconstruct the words themselves or the story itself, is another step that can really be a lot of fun.

And that evaluation can be done with fanfiction. I used to write fanfiction of television shows, now I write fanfiction of sung-through stage musicals. The form of the canon can have an influence on the writing, and the keener the awareness of that influence then the better for a writer to decide whether or not you're going to be limited by that influence. The same goes for mostly if not only reading fanfictions, and then having that influence writing fanfictions or original fictions. I think it's great that fandom subcultures now are comparatively more fun and relaxed than they've ever been—haven't had a Ms.Scribe type of thing recently anywhere, have we?—But I'll agree with what everyone above is saying when I say that I hope the fun of broadening horizons with variety, and getting empowered by honing a more specific and critical attention, won't be forgotten either. All of us are incrementally dying of time.

fascinating that when you tell people "you have to learn the rules to break them" when talking about drawing/painting etc everyone nods and agrees but the second you say "you have to read books if you want to write better" there's a horde of contrarians begging to be the wrongest people ever all of a sudden

[wolvietxt]

𝓑UTTERFLIES, PART TWO.

pairing : bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings : fluff, kiss, that’s literally it i think summary : after much deliberation, bucky finally acts on his feelings for you wc : 1.2k a/n : part two to this fic💕

bucky had been avoiding the common areas of the tower for the past few days, ever since his conversation with wanda. her teasing words about him having a crush had burrowed deep into his mind, and every time he thought about seeing you, his heart raced and his palms grew clammy. but he couldn’t avoid you forever, not when you’d become such an integral part of his days.

so, when he found himself in the kitchen one morning, staring blankly at the coffee machine, he wasn’t entirely surprised to hear your voice behind him.

“good morning,” your cheerful tone was always comforting.

he turned, offering you a small smile. “morning,” he mumbled.

“you look like you could use some coffee,” you teased, gesturing to the empty mug in his hand.

“yeah, guess i’m not fully awake yet,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “what about you? you’re always so… chipper.”

“it’s caffeine,” you joked, flashing him a grin. “and maybe a little bit of just liking mornings.”

he couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him. “guess i’ll have to take your word for it.”

as the two of you stood there, the conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from your latest mission to the strange quirks of living in a tower full of superheroes. bucky found himself relaxing, the tension in his shoulders easing as you laughed at one of his rare jokes.

“you’re funny, you know that?” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

“not sure anyone’s ever called me that before,” he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“well, i’m saying it now,” you said with a firm nod, your smile still beaming. “and i don’t lie about these things.”

bucky’s heart did a little flip at the sincerity in your voice. he wasn’t used to compliments, let alone ones that felt so genuine. 

from that day on, your interactions became more frequent. whether it was a shared meal in the kitchen or a brief exchange in the hallways, you always seemed to find a way to brighten his day. bucky, in turn, began to seek you out, drawn to the warmth you radiated.

one evening, you found yourselves in the common room again, this time watching a movie with the rest of the team. bucky had taken a seat on the far end of the couch, but you’d plopped down right next to him, a blanket draped over your lap.

“didn’t take you for a movie night kind of guy,” you whispered, leaning closer so only he could hear.

“i’m not, usually,” he admitted, his voice low. “but… this seemed like a good idea.”

“well, i’m glad you’re here,” you said, your smile soft and genuine.

as the movie played on, bucky found it harder to focus on the screen. his attention kept drifting to you - the way you laughed at the funny parts, the way your expression softened during the emotional scenes, tears brimming at your waterline. at one point, your hand accidentally brushed against his, and though you quickly pulled away with an apologetic smile, the brief contact sent his heart racing.

when the movie ended, you turned to him, your eyes bright. “what did you think?”

“it was… good,” he said, though he couldn’t have recalled a single plot point if his life depended on it.

“you’re such a liar,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “but that’s okay. next time, i’ll pick something you’ll actually like.”

next time. the words lingered in his mind long after you’d gone to bed. he wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, you’d become the highlight of his days. and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

over the next few weeks, bucky found himself growing more comfortable around you. your conversations became longer, your laughter more frequent. you had a way of drawing him out of his shell, of making him feel like the version of himself he’d almost forgotten.

one afternoon, the two of you were sitting on the tower’s balcony, a light breeze rustling through the air. you’d brought out a deck of cards, insisting on teaching him a game he’d never heard of.

“okay, so the goal is to get rid of all your cards,” you explained, shuffling the deck with practiced ease. “it’s kind of like uno, but with regular cards.”

“sounds complicated,” he said, his brow furrowing.

“nah, you’ll get the hang of it,” you assured him. “and if not, i’ll just keep winning.”

he smirked. “we’ll see about that.”

the game quickly devolved into playful banter, with you teasing him every time he made a mistake and him firing back with his own dry humor. by the time you’d declared yourself the winner for the third round in a row, you were both laughing so hard your sides hurt.

“okay, okay, you’re officially banned from shuffling,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “you’re too good at stacking the deck.”

“hey, don’t hate the player,” he replied, his grin widening.

as the laughter subsided, a comfortable silence settled over you. bucky found himself watching you, the way the sunlight caught in your hair, the way your lips curved into a soft smile even when you weren’t talking. his chest tightened with an unfamiliar but not unwelcome feeling.

“you know,” he said quietly, “you make this place a lot more bearable.”

you looked up, your eyes meeting his. “that’s funny,” you said, your voice just as soft. “i was going to say the same thing about you.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. bucky’s heart pounded in his chest as he searched your face for any sign of hesitation. but all he saw was warmth, an openness that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he could take the leap.

“would it be okay if i…?” he trailed off, his gaze flickering to your lips.

you didn’t answer right away, but the way you leaned in, the way your breath hitched ever so slightly, was all the encouragement he needed. 

when his lips met yours, it was like the world fell away. the kiss was soft, tentative, as if he were afraid of breaking the moment. but as you responded, your hand coming up to rest against his cheek, he felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the sunlight.

when you finally pulled back, your eyes searched his, a shy smile playing on your lips. “so,” you said shyly, your voice barely above a whisper. “was that as scary as you thought it’d be?”

he chuckled, his forehead resting against yours. “not even close.”

“good,” you said, your fingers brushing lightly against his. “because i’ve been wanting you to do that for a while.”

“me too,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “i just didn’t know how.”

“well, you figured it out,” you said, your smile widening. “and for the record, you’re pretty good at this whole talking thing when you try.”

he laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that felt foreign yet wonderful. “guess i’ll have to keep practicing, then.”

“i’ll hold you to that,” you said, leaning in for another kiss.

this time, he didn’t hesitate. because for the first time in a long time, bucky felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

ᰔ bucky barnes : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid

@yvespecially, @hhiggs, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd, @superlegend216

@withasideofmeg, @pvndomi, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @bbittenapples, @hazydespair

@aoi_targaryen, @person-005, @corvuscattus

more tags : @vicmc624, @starsmoonn, @daddyyy88, @illusionaryjourneys

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[calitears]

sessions

3. turn it up!

story masterlist

tw/notes: cussing, drinking, slightly offensive jokes, small tiny manga spoilers (?) (it just mentions two characters who haven’t appeared in the anime yet doesn’t spoil the plot or anything)

as far as you knew, toge, panda, and yuji had stayed downstairs playing rounds of beer pong while you happily went with nobara upstairs. however it seemed god was on your side today as megumi tagged along behind you two, for whatever reason. you heard him mumbling under his breath something about not liking the taste of beer or even the actual game, but the reason seemed unimportant now as he sat next to you, alone, after nobara ran off saying she was going to go get another friend of theirs or something like that.

usually you’d be able to strike up a conversation, however you felt rather awkward as megumi seemed distracted on his phone, furrowing his brow slightly, typing away against the screen.

what could you ask him? his hobbies? what his favorite movie was? wait, didn’t yuta say something about them being in the same class? finally after another minute, he put his phone away and sighed, looking up ahead of him.

oh what the hell was there to lose, if you failed miserably you’d probably never have to directly meet him again anyway.

as you spoke up, you smiled slightly at the way his attention almost immediately turned to you.

“so… what do you do?” well you had a good chance, maybe, but what the hell type of question was that to start off with?

“what do i… do? like… job wise?” he questioned, a slight pout on his lip, but maybe they were just naturally like that.

“yeah.”

he shrugged slightly, before leaning back further into the couch, “i make music, go to college, have a job on the side too…”

“oh, cool- wait you made that song with yuji right?”

he internally cringed “no. don’t bring that up.”

you almost laughed at the way his expression soured almost immediately just by mentioning it.

“it wasn’t that bad…”

“you don’t have to spare me. don’t lie to my face, i know it was horrendous.”

“well… i haven’t heard any of your other stuff, but i’m sure you were just being nice to yuji to let him… y’know… on one of your instrumentals.”

“well i need to redeem myself then, i can’t have that as your only impression of my music.”

“y’know… we should trade…”

“trade?”

“i listen to yours, and you listen to mine…”

he seemed to think about something for a moment, before letting out a small huff.

“…and if i already listened to yours?”

now that caught you off guard.

“you have?”

he shifted slightly in his seat, and you could’ve sworn he leaned in closer, even by just an inch.

“yeah… actually got curious from yuji’s post with you. it’s pretty good just… it’s not usually the type i’d listen to, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

smiling at him, you moved closer, yet he didn’t seem to move back at all, mostly just seeming amused. “oh, so you’re not into ‘pink princess pilates’ music?”

he scoffed, a small smirk forming on his face, “what type of ai generated spotify wrapped thing is that?”

“that’s exactly where i got it from actually, was one of my genres…”

“well… at least it sounds cute, i think it’s ‘fitting’, i got grouped into something called ‘abstract indie sleaze soundtrack moment’.”

“the hell does that even mean? sounds like a red flag honestly, maybe i should stop talking to you hear…”

“not gonna give me a chance then? thought yuji said you were into me?”

“oh my god did he seriously say that- can’t he keep a secret?”

he was about to respond, his expression still slightly playful until suddenly a voice cut in, and you saw a girl jump into the empty space next to him, sitting down. “fushiguro! it’s been too long!” she exclaimed. megumi seemed startled at first, but relaxed after another moment. “oh… hey hana.”

“i missed you- where have you been recently?” she continued, seemingly wanting to reach out and touch him, but hesitant to.

“just busy… work… college and stuff.” he replied, about to turn back to you to introduce you to what you hoped was just his friend, that is until yuji and nobara seemed to have finally caught up with you guys again. before you even got the chance to say goodbye to him, yuji was pulling you off the couch and dragging you away from the group.

“y/n real quick- sorry- but pleaseeee you need to dj for us or something- just for like half an hour at least!! you need to show off against this asshole!”

no context whatsoever to what was happening, you couldn’t even reject yuji’s offer as he basically dragged you towards the music booth.

outside the studio…

sigh… guys i don’t hate hana i actually think she’s a cutie and love her but i had to bring someone into that role… 😥😓😪

yuji such a feminist wanted to prove some guy who was drunkly babbling on about #womeninmusic wrong accidentally crashed the moment

y/n texted maki a sc of megumi’s instagram and she put two and two together immediately

megumi was actually just writing down a reminder to get in contact with y/n but nobara wanted to push him

idk why the gif drops qualities every time i use one hope it doesn’t bother anyone 💔💔💔

taglist (open)

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*if your tag isn’t working pls change your settings or let me know!!

[coyotelip]

starchaser microfic: curly || @into-the-jeggyverse || wc: ~350

Regulus never turns down a movie night.

It's a tradition he never had in his past life. In the life he left at his parents' house. His first visit to the Potter's was a movie night, and at that moment, it became something much bigger and more special for the boy.

So no matter what the circumstances, every Saturday Regulus and James settle down on the couch in front of their TV and watch something from their shared watch list. Even if Regulus is sick to the bone, even if they had a serious fight just an hour ago, none of it matters, and eventually they both end up in each other's arms on soft pillows under the bluish light of the screen.

Regulus never complains about being tired from work, he curls up under James' side and looks at the picture on the screen. Even when it's hard to keep his eyes open, he'll still hum along to James' comments, which he no longer understands because he's not following the plot.

Eventually, James hears a light sniffle from the boy's head on his shoulder, and now he finds it hard to keep his eyes on the TV screen, as his eyes are glued to the peaceful expression on Regulus' sleeping face. Long eyelashes cast even longer shadows on his cheeks, and dark curls fall on his forehead, beckoning him to touch them.

And James touches them. He brushes the curly hair away, tucks them behind Regulus' ear, and keeps his hand on the boy's cheek. Sliding his hand further, he lifts him off his shoulder a little to get to his feet and comfortably catch Regulus under his knees and around his waist.

Regulus is not small and light enough to be easy to pick up. He is a grown man, after all, but James doesn't shrink from a challenge. Trying not to grunt from the strain, he picks the boy up and hopes he's still asleep. With careful steps, they walk to the bedroom, leaving the light noise of the TV behind.

Tomorrow, neither of them will remember what the movie was about.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 38 LAST NIGHT WAS A MOVIE

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | sexual innuendos, swearing

NOTES | smau/written/smau format for this chapter!! also we're super close to the end now gang I'm excited 😼

"Hey, come in." Y/n let Jaemin into her apartment, smiling awkwardly—something Jaemin's seen countless times before— only it had never been directed at him.

They weren't awkward. They didn't do awkward. Or, at least, they hadn't.

His heart sinks just a little.

"Hey, how have you been keeping?" Jaemin asks the question, and as natural as it feels, he wishes he hadn't asked at all. He didn't need to anyway. Not with her.

Jaemin doesn't think he had ever asked Y/n that question. It wasn't what they did, who they were. They didn't need to ask, they just knew.

And even now, when everything seems to have changed, some things are exactly the same, like how Y/n fiddles with a loose strand of her hair, and rocks back and forth on the couch.

He tries desperately to ignore the fact that she'd chosen to sit as far away from him as possible, instead waiting for an answer to his question.

But when she does speak, Jaemin can't bear to hear the response.

"I'm fin-" he interejcts, not wanting to have to see her lie to his face.

"You're nervous," he states, a matter of fact, "don't be peach." his tone softens, his eyes locked on hers, but she doesn't look his way at all.

"How are you?" Y/n's eyes are trained to the floor.

Jaemin hates it.

The question feels too empty, like they're two strangers just passing each other by. Making small talk, it wasn't something they'd ever done, and he didn't want to start now.

He can't help himself when he shuffles towards her, the soft touch of his fingers just below her chin, causing her to look up. And thought she doesn't look into his eyes just yet, Jaemin smiles, knowing she's looking at him. The racing of his heart eases just a little.

Despite the thick air in the room, the weight of the situation, despite the invisible force between them that tugged in all the wrong places, despite all those differences, one thing remained unchanged.

All these years later, Y/n looked his way just the same. Like he was everything. Her everything.

"Look at me, angel," his hand rests softly against her cheek, cradling it, as though she was the most precious thing, "it wasn't your fault."

That causes her eyes to snap upwards, meeting his.

And Jaemin sees it, clear as day, the guilt in her eyes. He wishes he could take it in his hand, pull those thoughts out of her mind and see her, the Y/n who never went through this at all. He wishes she wouldn't blame herself. He wished he could erase the memories, erase it all.

But Jaemin knew that it wasn't possible.

"Me and you," he looks at her, gaze deeper, more intense, "We're stronger than this." His voice comes deep, low and soothing, laced with such tenderness that Y/n hears her heartbeat resounding in her ears. "I won't let this ruin us anymore."

It felt like a promise. A dream.

Y/n swears she can't breathe, no amount of air enough for her to finally exhale. He was right, but somehow, it all seemed too good to be true. She found herself too caught up in everything that had passed, analysing each moment like something more was yet to come, like she'd missed something. Like a plot twist waiting to happen, a hidden truth waiting to stab her in the heart.

"I should have known better." Her words come out, barely a whisper, the ache in Jaemin's chest growing as her notices how her eyes begin to water.

"You didn't know Y/n." as much as Jaemin wants to admit his mistakes, express just how badly he wishes he'd just heard her out, listened to her side of the story just once, he can't, afraid that he'll break. And if he did, she would too.

"I just wish it never happened," she sighed, her voice shaking desperately, "i just wish you were there, I wish it wasn't us."

She almost doesn't make any sense, but that's what Jaemin was best at, understanding her when she barely understood herself."I know angel," he leaned forward, gently laying a kiss to her forehead, "but we made it, didn't we?"

Y/n gulps, nodding. Her throat feels dry despite wanting to scream out in agreement.

Jaemin's eyes overflow, with warmth, with adoration, with assurance.

They'd made it out. They always would.

"Then that's all that matters."

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[papaya-twinks]

masquerade - l.n

Warnings: Swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x spy!fem!reader

A/N - I watched a spy movie and it inspired me :3 also this is the most basic ahh spy plot ever

Spy AU

only thing he spying on is the pigs in blankets at the party

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Look who it is,” a voice came from behind you as you resisted the urge to groan, your hands tightening on your glass of champagne.

“Fancy seeing you here, Norris,” you said, adjusting the floor-length, skin-tight black dress on your body, the cut outs on the side of your stomach giving him a great view.

“Well, I’m on a mission, darling,” he said, pinching your glass from you, downing the golden liquid, his gaze never leaving you.

“Well, do that somewhat away from me!”.

“Can’t help it,” he said, placing the glass on a tray, “it’s like you’re following me, Y/N,”.

“I’m following you?” you scoffed, “get your head our your ass. And what are you here for?”.

“Bold to assume I’d tell you,” he said, running a hand through his curls as he surveyed the scene around him.

It was a party in some lavish manor, the one you’d been sent on by your boss to retrieve a diamond tiara of the sorts. “Well if it’s the office safe, the password’s 248293,” you said, flicking a speck from your nails.

“You just..told me? Like that?” he clicked his fingers as you shrugged.

“Don’t see why we should hide it if we’re in the same bloody mission,” you pointed out.

“For rival agencies,” he said as you scoffed.

“You’re no fun,” you almost pouted, moving round the outside of the room, and towards the hallway.

“Careful sweetheart,” Lando said, pulling a hand over your mouth and your back against his chest to stop you running into security guards.

“Get your paws off of me,” you huffed, wiping your dress where’d be touched you. “Very grateful,” he said sarcastically, ducking out of view from a camera.

“Don’t need to be saved by you,” you said indignantly.

“Out my way,” you said, sliding your bobby pin into the lock of the door. Youd thought it would’ve harder to break in but hey, it meant less work for you.

“What did you say the code was?” he mumbled as he knelt in front of the safe, pulling on some plastic gloves.

“Use your brain. How are you a spy if you can’t even remember a couple numbers?” you said, back to him.

“Oh shut up,” Lando said, wracking his brain, “248293,” he mumbled to himself.

The sound of the dial twisting on the safe was the only sound as Lando finally twisted the last three…Incorrect Code.

“You’re so gullible,” you giggled as he turned around, his eyes landing on the diamond tiara hanging off your index finger. “Oh you little…” he said, but he couldn’t stop the chuckle on his lips.

“Did you really think I’d just tell you the code?”

“Guess I expected too much from you,” Lando snickered, his eyes never leaving the tiara.

“Well, I have places to be,” you said as a rope dropped through the open glass panel in the ceiling, “bye sweetheart,”.

“Oh, and,” you said, taking your heel off as you were pulled through the ceiling, “enjoy,” you said, hitting the alarm with your heel as Lando smiled.

“Til next time, Y/L/N,” he called, gripping the gun in his belt as he watched you. Bitch.

[justbelievinginmagic]

ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 12: forgotten.

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader, ft some jeongin x 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: you awaken in your childhood-home bedroom. with strange desert sand in your shoes and wounds decorating your body, you wonder what exactly happened to you and why couldn't you remember anything? 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, mature, suggestive adult content, faerie lore, fear, world-building, explicit language, canon-typical violence, toxic relationship, uneven power dynamics, manipulation, magic usage, brainwashing?, body horror (not super descriptive), blood, one-sided affection, obsession, memory loss, lots of physical affection/touching, fire, injuries, let me know if there are any other tags needed. word count: 12.4k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

Her eyes fluttered as she awoke, peering up at the ceiling. Her back ached for a moment, and Y/N couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her. Turning over, her face buried into a pillow. Her pillow that smelled of home, like warm linen from a tumble in the drying machine, like her favorite detergent from the local grocery store. Huffing, she moved to rub her back with one hand awkwardly. Digging into her muscles, she groaned. The work shift yesterday really must’ve tweaked her back; it radiated with an aching pain. She’d have to get some medicine. Which meant getting out of bed. Ugh.

Blinking, she finally pulled herself out of her lethargy enough to take in the sight of her room. Her bedroom’s bedside light was on, gleaming a soft-yellow orange glow from a too-old light-bulb. She had fallen asleep on top of her duvet apparently with her shoes still on. God, how tired was she yesterday? She usually does better. Eyes bleary and half-shut, unseeing, she moved and shifted to sit up. Y/N gritted her teeth as she hoisted herself onto the edge of her bed. Toeing her shoes off, she sat for a moment, head flung back as she tried to pry herself from sleep’s embrace.

Her feet hurt, too… and were those grains of sand in between her toes? Wiggling her toes, the sand fell aside, landing on the floor. Her head shifted to look at them. Real sand on her rug. Not just a trick of the eye or her sleep-addled brain.

Huh?

Blinking slow like a cat, she gazed over her legs. Dirt, mud, even blood coated her clothes!

What?

Her heart picked up. What was going on? She stood quickly, her bed creaking familiarly as she looked around. There was no sand on the ground; no dirtied footprints tracking on the rug in front of her bed. Her bed was barely rumpled, just the vague shape of her body on its fluffy duvet. What had she been doing before she fell asleep? Where had she been? There was no sand anywhere near her small town. Dirt, yeah, but not this sort of yellowed desert sand that sat in a mess on her carpet.

In a flash, she remembered a hazy image - when she had sat on a cobblestone floor, dumping sand from her shoe into a pile beside her. A shadow blocked out hazy light; a blonde-haired man with dimples grinned at her, hand outstretched, words on his lips – but, like déjà vu, the memory was chased away no matter how quickly she tried to grasp at it.

What was that? Who was that? Where had she been?

Why can’t she remember?

This was scary.

“Mom? Dad?” she called out instinctively, reaching for the door knob of her room.

Opening it, she was greeted with not the hallway of her childhood home, but what looked like a trash heap.

Piles of garbage, of old things, and of rotting things were in large stacks under a hazy orange sunset? Fire? Light? Its glow didn’t look natural.

A squeak escaped her as she slammed the door shut. Both hands pressed against the door to keep it pressed shut. Heaving out a panicked breath, her mind raced. 

What was that?

Did she just see that?

Was she still dreaming? This was a dream, right?

That wasn’t her home. That was—she didn’t know what. A landfill? But why? HOW?

Turning, she looked around at her room. Everything was so still like it was frozen in time or from a photograph. There was no flicker of her old posters from the air conditioning. No wind pressing through her window tickled the curtains into a rustle, no air conditioner rumbled, her bedside lamp didn’t flicker. But everything was in its place, perfect as a picture.

Her vanity mirror reflected her visage back at her. A rumpled, bandaged, and still-bloodied version of herself was there. Back pressing into the door, she raised a hand to her neck where a make-shift bandage wrapped around her skin like a choker. Her neck tugged with a sting as she touched it.

She’d remember that, surely?

Her breath trembled as her gaze settled back on her door, still being pressed shut by her own shoulder. Things didn’t feel right. She didn’t feel right. Her head ached she noticed, and her mouth felt heavy and heady with a taste of something rottenly sweet. Her fingers felt sticky like she had spilt juice or soda on them.

What had happened? Something had happened; she just couldn’t remember. Her head felt heavy, sleepy like it was full of cotton. Blinking, she raised a hand to bang at her own skull as if she was an old computer chugging too slow to process information.

“C’mon, this is a dream,” she murmured. “Whatever’s behind this door… it has to be. That wasn’t real – it couldn’t be real.”

Breathing out in a huff, she gathered herself once more and reached for the door knob.

Opening it, tentatively, she peered out of the small crack she made. A somehow familiar orange-red hazy hue engulfed her gaze. The glow made the entire trash heap look aged like it was a polaroid left to rot in the sun. Nighttime felt like it was only a blink away, as if the entire exterior was trapped in a sunset’s golden hour.

But that wasn’t the only thing she noticed. No, what she saw in front of her made her eyes widen.

A goblin.

Yellow-eyed with bright red pupils. Fangs. Small downy feathers covered her face like it was fur. A pile of junk resting high on her back like some sort of severely overpacked, over-piled backpack. It looked like a turtle shell with how the lady squeezed back into it at Y/N’s shocked face.

(Y/N could hear echoes of laughter and the feeling of eyes on her own back… as if she had seen a creature like this before.)

The goblin gasped at the sight of her, but it didn’t have fear. No, it was almost excited.

“Oh, better to stay in here, dear,” she chattered as she pushed her way in.

The door slammed back into Y/N; she was surprisingly strong for such a small creature. The goblin’s voice was aged and scratchy like a record player long defunct. The clutter on her back chimed and clattered as it hit the doorframe, and some fell to the floor. Scattered remnants of dolls from long ago, paper advertisements that read ‘enlist in the military,’ and old photographs, yellow-aged and brittle, trailed after the goblin.

“Nothing out there that you want, trust me!” she added with disdain before turning to her. “Oh, but look at you, all better, huh?”

Her attitude reminded her of a grandmother’s, a bit rough around the edges but, when geared towards her, it became kind. Sweet like those ancient coffee taffies you can only find at a grandparent’s house.

“Better?” Y/N queried carefully as she backed away from the goblin as it approached her.

Her hand wrapped around her bed’s banister as if its support could protect her. She couldn’t help her gaze from darting all over the other’s form. Dancing over her animalistic facial features – she had rows of fangs that were small and sharp, a scrunched leathered nose, and hair like a puff ball of grey yarn. The junk that tumbled over her shoulders and back towered high above her almost, crushing the goblin’s small figure. How could she walk with that? How was this possible!?

“I found you a few hours ago – you looked all bruised up and battered; don’t worry, I helped treat the wounds.”

The goblin’s words seemed kind even as she began to prowl around her bedroom, or… was it her bedroom?  How was it here? The goblin picked up her hairbrush and sniffed at it before hissing a bit and placing it back down.

Rubbing a hand across her face, Y/N tried to remember what she had been doing last. It was strange – it felt like there was a cloud over her head. Like when you wake and couldn’t shake off sleep as you got ready for the day. Groggy and slow-minded. All she could remember was running, running, and running. She was trying to get somewhere?

“Where am I?” she asked quietly.

There was a pause as the goblin sorted and hummed about this and that in her room. If she had been paying attention, she’d see that the goblin had almost inspected everything – even placing a thing or two in her pocket.

“Huh, what was that, dear?” The goblin replied as she stared at a pretty water-globe high on a shelf.

“Where am I?” Y/N repeated.

“The City of the Forgotten, of course,” she cackled out before reaching up with a spindly arm to grasp the water globe in her hand. “Pretty, pretty, pretty.”

“Hey, don’t touch that,” Y/n scolded, rushing over to grab it.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she cowered. “It’s so pretty, though. And it’s just collecting dust – we should use it, hmm?” She crooned. “Treasure should be admired, lovely!”

“It’s mine,” Y/N countered placing it back on the high shelf. “Now, you said the Forgotten City?” she clarified.

So, she wasn’t at home? Nothing made sense. And she had this aching headache pulsing behind her eyes. The goblin was already on her way somewhere else in the room, oooh-ing and aah-ing as she went.

“Please, can you listen to me?” Y/N pleaded.

“I am, I am – look at this, this is such a treasure,” she was looking at an old calendar that Y/N had placed in a drawer. It was years old by now.

“I’m trying to understand. Where is the Forgotten City?”

“It’s the City of the Forgotten and, well, it’s forgotten, dearie.” She chuckled as she flipped through the calendar before shoving it onto her back against some sticky used chewing gum.

“Please, I’m trying to find out where I am!” Y/N cried out. “I feel like I was doing something, looking for something!”

“Aren’t we all looking for something?” the junk-goblin cackled. “I found lots of things, just look closer, dearie.”

She was now going through her clothes’ drawers, pulling out this and that. “Oh, look at this,” it was a far-too old pajama shirt – something that used to be a day-shirt from an interest long past before it got stained or too stretched out. With holes and washer-softened cotton that felt soft like spider-silk. “Isn’t this darling? You haven’t worn this in ages. You know you could wear this; wait, wait, I’m sure there’s something even better.”

The goblin clawed through the drawers with vigor.

“No, no, I don’t have time…” Why didn’t she have time? It felt like something in her was tick-tick-ticking away in her heart, like she had to go, go, go. “I was going somewhere. . . I can’t remember.”

It was like it was juuuust on the tip of her tongue.

“Can’t remember what you were looking for?” the goblin crooned, pausing in her search as if she had just heard Y/N’s laments for the first time. A messy sprawled pile of clothing surrounded the little goblin in a semi-circle. “Oh, oh, oh, maybe it was to see Mister I.N. Yes, yes, Mister I.N can help you!” It was a sudden crow.

“Mister I.N?” What a strange name.

The one-eyed goblin beamed a fanged smile. “He is good with forgotten things. He will help. But first, you must look presentable – look at you, muddied and messy. He wouldn’t like that. No, no, yes, yes. This will do.”

She had tugged out something far too flashy. Her old Prom dress she realized. It was something of iridescent softness; something a sixteen-year-old who loved romance books and fantasy too much dreamt about. Her legs felt like they were tangled up as she stared at it. Y/N sat down on her bed with a plop.

“No, no,” she stared at the dress, furrowed browed. Flashes of ribbons, lace, and satin. Masked figures whirling in a blurring waltz. A kiss that engulfed her senses. She blinked, and the images were gone. Her mouth tasted of sweetness like a remnant of a candy and iron like she had bit her tongue.

“Okay, okay, what about this?” The goblin-lady presented a pair of trousers and a clean blouse.

“I-“

“Now, now, now!” The goblin chirped, pushing the items into her lap as she backed up. “Must look nice. Hurry up, dearie.”

The woman had crept back outside, shutting the door with a slam that had Y/N jumping. Her eyes blinked deliriously towards the door before she looked down at the clothes in her lap. Their soft white, clean linens could distract her for long as she spotted her injuries once more. Her hands were bandaged and, with careful fingers, she unwound the fabric to look upon half-healed injuries she didn’t remember attaining. It was frightening. How did she get so hurt in the first place? Re-wrapping it quick, she stood and looked in the mirror of her vanity. Mulch and blood stained her clothes. Pollen stuck to the ends of her hair as if she had laid in a flower field. She wiped it away only for sparkling glitter to tumble away in a flurry. On her hip, she had a collection of magical-looking gems and jewels. She lifted them up. They were heavy and precious looking. Her wrist jingled with a fake-metal charm bracelet, and her favorite ring was no longer on her hand.

What had happened?

Distress welled up in her throat as she examined the injuries she had obtained as she shimmed off the dirtied clothes and stepped into a new ensemble. Bruises decorated her skin in watercolor green-yellows-and-reds. Y/N tied the gems and jewels to her hip once more and the tinkling of the bracelet distracted her once more. Large boba eyes filled her mind as she eyed the jewels once more, but like everything here it faded into nothing but into the few large gems of amethyst on her hip. She rearranged them. YN then let her fingers brush over the plastic charms of her bracelet that jingled against the jewels. Strange…

Sitting on the floor, she slid on her shoes, after knocking the extra sand out of them. Tying them tightly, she remembered a voice chiming a bright “Annyeong!” She looked up to see a figure, shading her from the honeyed light of her room

“Ready, dearie?”

It was just the goblin lady with a wolfish grin on her feathered face.

“Aw, look at you. You look like a shiny new penny,” she complimented as she urged Y/N to her feet. “Let’s go. I’ve let him know we were coming. He’s so excited to meet you properly.”

The little creature took her by the hand and tugged her out of her bedroom into the strange world outside. A dumpsite of a world. Piles upon piles of things engulfed what looked like a desert landscape. Wicker chairs, drums, lamps, wrenches, candelabras, this and this, whoitz and whatitz galore. Every few mountainous piles, there was a creature much like the goblin lady digging through the trash, trying to find something that sparked its fancy. Like a racoon digging through a trash can. Other creatures, tall and short, all bearing their own weight in junk whether it was like the layered upon layered shell like the goblin lady or simply a draping of this-and-thats on their person, stood around burn barrels. Warming their hands, shivering. Why were they out here? Actually, now that she looked around, Y/N noticed something. There were no homes. No buildings. Where did they live? Her eyes glanced back at them.

Their eyes gleamed in the firelight as they looked up to see Y/N and the goblin lady scurrying in and around the make-shift town. Figures peered out of half-made tents of dirtied fabric; sparkling dust sprinkling down over them as they did so.

Whispers, chortles, gossips. She felt fingers, thick and grubby as well as thin and skeletal, prod at her as she passed.

“I.N will help, yes, he will, he will,” the goblin lady leading her hummed.

“She’s going to I.N,” a whisper sparked through the crowd, spreading like a wild-fire.

“What is she?” another voice graveled.

“Why does she get a room?” a small voice cricketed.

The large trash heap they approached seemed different from the others. It was huge like they all were, but more structured. In fact, as they approached it, she realized there was an organized chaos in it all. It wasn’t a pile; it was a dome! The junk stacked upon one another to form a tall structure. As they ducked under a canopy of yellowed lace, they entered the burrow of a building of sorts.

In the darken shambles of the structure, there were so. many. things. Layers upon layers of things piled up to form crowded corridors and impossible arches made of books, chairs, cups, and what not. Lost things like torn-up toys, rusted bikes, and fine jewelry alongside melting grand candles that glowed an unearthly shade of teal linked together to create the grand interior of what had looked like a small shack on the exterior. It was like nothing she had seen before, a brain-child of a hoarder’s fantasy house and an art installation.

“This way, this way,” the one-eyed goblin crooned, ducking her turtle-like back full of mismatched items to pass under an archway safely.

“Mister I.N will help you, yes, yes, he will.”

She’s muttering frantically, almost bubbling with enthusiasm. Y/N wasn’t sure how she could bounce and walk so quickly with the load on her small form. Her back must ache.

“Come on, come on, come on.”

There was no door way or grand entrance to where the man sat. It simply opened into an atrium where bright sunlight shined down into the dome, a large opening in the ceiling acting as a skylight. There was a pile of things unlike the layered arches, walls, and columns of junk. It wasn’t the mismatched lost thing, but instead fine furs that looked well loved, polished-clean silver and gold finery, silken pillows of differing colors that gleamed in the sunlight, jewels and gems and coins and pearls. Star-shines flickered about the room, casting rainbows here and there. There were clear ledges and inlets where one could sit amongst the things, little alcoves to curl up in between layered leathered goods or velveteen dresses of glamour. Despite the strangeness, there was order in the large nest with an obvious golden-coined path down to the main floor. It almost looked like a throne as she took in laid back form at the peak of the hoard. A man. He looked different compared to the creatures outside of this dome. There were no objects clinging to his skin like mussels; instead, his attire was clean-cut. Cared for. With bright white-ash hair and a heavy coat of fine fur, his shirt was a silky laced up white thing and his pants smooth leather that seemed to gleam as if scrubbed recently with a polish. Amongst the junk and trash, he looked to be a jewel in the rough.

The man’s face was shadowed by the sun as he looked down at her; his hair was an electric white like a flame. The whites of his eyes weren’t white but instead gleamed a golden-vibrancy as he observed her. Sniffing the air, he paused before smiling a close-lipped grin pleasantly.

“Hello,” he spoke; his voice was soft and gentle.

He didn’t seem threatening, and, while she was confused to where she was exactly, she wasn’t a fool. He had power here, certainly. She had enough sense in her bones to know to not fully trust this man…fae she reminded herself.

Fae. . .? Yes, he was a fae. Goblins and fae exist. Obviously. She blinked at the realization that it was just something she had forgotten, and not new information.

She didn’t greet him yet, simply stared at him from far below his stockpile of wealth as he leaned back upon the makeshift throne. There was a creaking sound, a tumbling of metal things with the action.

His lips curled in a fox-like smile, sharp and mischievous, as he took in her face.  

“You’re afraid, Y/N,” he commented. “It’s okay; I have no wish to hurt you.”

He extended a pinky finger in a pinky promise, almost childishly so. She stared at it before meeting his medallion-yellow eyes once more. Distrustful. Her glare hardened as she tried to remember what she had been looking for.

It wasn’t him, was it? Why would she need him? Surely, she’d remember that.

“Mister I.N, she wanted to meet you. She did, she did, she did!” the goblin chattered, drawing his gaze to her. His eyes flickered with recognition as if he had forgotten the other was in the room. “She’s lost; she can’t remember what she was looking for. She was asking for you.”

No, she hadn’t. But the sing-song tone to the goblin’s voice made Y/N’s cheeks redden regardless. I.N only seemed to brighten, his form glowing in the down-pour of light.

“Oh, did she?” he crowed as he stood.

“Mm-hm, mm-hm, mm-hm,” the one-eyed goblin bleated.

“Well done, Prelle,” he praised and the goblin crowed an excited sound like an animal, the sound a tie between a bird and a wild-cat.

“You can borrow what you want – but not from my center hoard.” he warned with a serious tone.

The one-eyed goblin – Prelle – preened with thankful huffy happy sounds coming from her small mouth as she shuffled about, completely forgetting about Y/N and I.N as she scurried deeper into the hut. Leaving her and him alone.

“Forget abo-- ignore her disruptions,” he encouraged, waving haphazardly towards the direction Prelle hobbled. “She’s sweet. Likes childhood memories; dolls, toys, games. She lost a little one in the past.”

He hopped down his hoard, gold coins and pearl necklaces tumbling down with the motion. Leathered boots landed in front of her with a stomp.

“You’ve forgotten something?” he chirped, peering into her face. “I can help with that. I’m the best Finder-Keeper of Lost Things.”

“Finder-Keeper of Lost Things?” Y/N couldn’t help but repeat.

His eyes were alit with excitement at hearing her voice for the first time. He sighed out, breathlessly.

“Pretty voice you have. Glad you didn’t lose that, hm?” He teased.

Now, that he was closer, she can see there are fine scales on his cheeks, sparkling with golden iridescence in the over-head light. His ash blonde hair tickled his neck, hiding some of those scales. He smiled; his teeth were pearly white with two fangs on his bottom canine teeth. His cheekbones were prominent, highlighting the planes of his face in a sharp shadow.

“What does Finder-Keeper of Lost Things mean?” she retorted.

He waved it off. “Just a title I have. I’m the best scavenger,” he gestured about. “Got a skill for finding things, figuring things out, keeping things in order.”

And keeping them, she assumed. He was boasting, but he still settled his attention on her fully.

“Let’s see if I can help you,” he offered his hand to her.

He smiled at her, the thing wide and almost cat-like with his sharpness. Taking his hand carefully, his sharp smile only grew, his eyes falling shut into slits. He guided her up his hoard of expensive things. Around crowns of old, jewels that gleamed in the dim light, and soft fabrics. The pile felt oddly secure and full as they climbed. How many things must’ve been piled up here to make it so sturdy?

He plopped back down on his throne, a comfortable pile of velvet, cotton, and silk. There was a small inlet beside him that he brushed gold coins and pearls and silver things away from to reveal an emerald velvet cushion – for her.

“We should start with what you do remember. Do you remember your name?” he queried as he helped her settle into the spot beside him on his junk-throne.

“I’m Y/N,” she said simply. His smile beamed at her introduction before settling into a fox-like close-lipped curl, his chin resting on his other hand scrunched into a fist. “I know where I grew up… where I live…”

He listed off the places easily, like it was where he grew up too. “And… my room… I woke up in it.”

“Oh, did you like it?” he grinned straightening up a bit, like a pup with his ears alert at the call of ‘treat’. He glanced aside, sighing out nostalgically. “It’s a fine room, full of fond memories.” 

“Yes, yes, it is,” she murmured. Her head felt fuzzy as if she was still half-asleep.

He hadn’t let go of her hand, thumb grazing the back of it slowly. His gentle gestures made her ever-more comfortable like a house cat in front of a fire.

“That answers that question though. Y/N. You know your home, your address, your room-” he recounted before he refocused. “That room is there for your comfort you know. Magic works in strange ways. Do you remember how you ended up here?” he asked.

Y/N squinted down at her lap, eyeing her bandaged hands. His thumb stroked the back of her hand again soothingly.

How did she end up here? Her head ached, a strong pain in-between her eyes, stinging her teeth with its force. She winced into herself, her hand escaping his to press against her furrowed brows. He hummed out a soft sound that sounded soothing, deep in his chest. Something warm - like it had just come from a laundry dryer - tumbled around her shoulders. His fur coat was draped around her comfortingly.

“I know; it’s hard,” I.N reassured. “It was hard for all of who were forgotten.”

His presence was comforting, she had to admit. The air felt pleasantly warm around him like he was a furnace. The animalistic sounds that escaped his chest weren’t frightening but more like a big cat’s purrs. Content and warm. She wanted to curl up in the softness beneath her and fall asleep again; she hadn’t realized how tired she was.

“Is there anything you remember?” he asked again.

She tilted her head up, trying to recall anything she could. She squinted as she tried to recall blurred sparkling memories. There was a blonde-haired man. His face blurred in between angered and soft. A man with curls and the biggest eyes she had ever seen. Jeweled eyes. She could see someone smiling bright at her, a scar across his nose. A muscular man with a pout on his lips.

“There were people?” she murmured. “Men…”

Every moment she tried to grasp onto their face, it was like the memory was running away. Water pouring from her fingertips; she couldn’t catch the droplets. Then, she couldn’t even recall what she was trying to remember. Was it a person? A place?

It was frightening. Frustrating.

I.N breathed in deeply, his hand going to smooth over the fur around her shoulders.

“Shhh,” he soothed.

Her chest heaved, and Y/N realized she was crying. Why was she crying? When did she start to cry?

He moved from his seat to her small spot at his feet, joining her in the small space. Long limbs reorganized her form until she was bundled in his furs, cradled in his legs and arms. Her tears dripped onto his hoard. I.N’s hands cupped her cheeks almost tenderly. He wiped them away with strong thumbs. He cooed out a sound of fondness, squeezing her cheeks gently.

“I don’t want you to overexert yourself,” he warned. “We have all the time in the world for your memories.” His smile was there again – even as she sniffled - before he tugged her close to him.

He smelled of fire – volcanic-fire rather than fire-smoke that tickled the back of your nose. Like the remains of something long burned away. He smelled of metal – like aged coins and used metal compasses pointing towards home. He smelled of ripened tropical fruit – like dragon-fruit on a hot day.

“You are so interesting,” he admitted in a breath, brushing a hand over her hair as he pulled away. “Let me just take a longer look.”

Her nose was stuffy, and her eyes ached as she looked up at him. Confusion flickered on her features. His smile remained. His hands grasped her jaw, tipping her head back as he stared into her eyes. She saw for the first time how his eyes blinked. Yes, his fox-like eyelids fell over his dandelion-bright eyes, but there was another milky-white transparent lid, closer to his eyeball that closed vertically like a crocodile’s eyelid first before his human-like eyelid shut. It reminded her how inhuman the man in front of her was.

With gentle precision, he pulled her face closer and closer til his forehead pressed against hers, gentle soft. His skin was scaley, almost frighteningly ocld as it kissed her forehead. Far too Intimate for strangers, yet, with him she felt so ooey gooey comfortable. Like they were long-lost friends.

There was a deep hum in the air, almost like a rumble in his chest. That warm comfortable feeling only grew, tickling the tips of her toes all the way to her nose. It was like falling asleep in a warm bed next to a lit-fire place. Safe. And then, her ear stung with a sharp zing. Like bee stung her forehead, like a claw dug into her brain. Painfully stabbing and sudden. She jerked away, and shut her eyes tighter. A wave of discomfort, a wave of fright, flooded her body, making her tremble and jolt in his grasp. Her eyes flashed open, and she stared at him.

His eyes were still shut, furrowed brow. He kept their foreheads pressed together, forcibly. Clawed nails pressed into her cheeks inadvertently. It took a moment too long for him to realize her discomfort. When he did, his eyes widened impossibly large. His grip eased and he immediately cooed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed, thumbs brushing over her cheeks gently. “You’re okay, Treasure.”

And suddenly, she felt okay. She felt like she was in her backyard on a holiday. Like when you finished a large meal and felt content, full bellied and safe. Relaxed, heart calm, skin warmed by the sun. Nostalgia seeping into her bones so much so she couldn’t help but sag against him. It felt like she had known him her entire life. Her fear was gone. And he was the reason.

“See,” he cooed. “It’s all okay. I’ve got you.”

He tentatively pressed his forehead to her temple. There was another zing of pain, like a cramping of her brain. He quickly pulled back with a twitch of snarl. I.N didn’t look at her then and instead brought her back into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. I.N’s heart did not pound and thud; it roared like a fire was in-between his ribs. It crackled and sparked and warmed her cheek.

“Magic is in your soul,” he muttered. “No wonder you are so out of it, human.”

Humans. He said human. Was he not human?

Wait… wait… she had already remembered that. He was fae-blood or goblin-blood or troll-blood or some other bloodline. Not human.

“Rude, I look way better than you humans. Besides, mind your business. Its rude to ask a stranger their bloodline.” Han’s voice was teasing and whiney in the way he always spoke.

Han. His name flooded her mind like a tsunami. No, that wasn’t his real name…It was…It was… As fast as the tide rushes in, it rushed away as if sucked up by a straw. Leaving nothing but her grasping at grains of empty sand. Empty thoughts. There was a strange feeling left, an emptiness like a phantom pain. What was she thinking a moment ago?

“Lord Han,” she swore she heard I.N growl out. His fingers stroked over the warm bare skin on her back in a circle – when had his hand slithered beneath her shirt?

“Who?” she breathed, looking up at the fae holding her close like she was a stuffed bear.

Her own mind reminded her of how it felt to hold her stuffed bears in her room. Oh, her room which was so close. Wasn’t it so safe? She was so safe here.

“Nothing, Treasure,” I.N purred out, his reptilian gaze settling on her with a glassiness. “Let’s think some more, yes?”

His other hand moved to rub up and down her fur-coated arm.

“Let’s think – what could someone so special like you be looking for?” he inquired, his hand shifted to trail up and down her arm, gentle and calming.

“I was... I’m just trying to—I’m trying to,” she trailed off, feeling like the word was on the tip of her tongue. Mouth sticky like it was full of peanut butter.

He smirked now. His fangs showed up, lining his bottom rather than top teeth. But she couldn’t see that buried in the softness of his chest.

“I know,” he soothed, a hand going to pet her arm comfortingly. His voice was almost hypnotic, like a lullaby. “Hmm, let me think. You are looking for something important. You’ve talked only about home, your address, your room. Maybe you’re looking for some place safe… I keep this place safe.” He reassured.

Yes, she was looking for something important. Important… maybe it was safety.

“You awoke here for a reason, you know. It felt safe I’m sure – when you woke in your bed.”

“Y-Yeah,” she replied, leaning back to look up at him. She wiped at her dampened cheek.

“Your room is so cute,” he grinned, his cheeks hid his eyes cutely. “I love lace and fluff, too. Soft things. It was a struggle to find everything so quickly, but you were worth it.”

Find everything. . .

“What?” she murmured, dazed and her temperature climbing into a hazy, too warm fever underneath the fur coat.

He found those things for her. It hadn’t just appeared by magic? Hadnt he said things were brought by magic? He was confusing her.

“Hm, did you remember something, Treasure?” I.N queried emptily, diverting the conversation again.

Blink. Blink. His nails trailed over her back in patterns. In little upward and downward strokes almost like he was writing something on her back.

Wait, what had he just said? It felt like there was a gap – like a DVD skipping dialogue in a scene, a song jumping a chorus. Missing portions of things he had just said. They were talking about safety… about…about…

“Oh, did you remember you were looking for somewhere safe, far from home? You were so special you ended up here.”

How did she end up here again? Wasn’t this a place for lost things? Not special things? Wait? Why was he telling her stuff now? She didn’t remember that. She hadn’t said any of that.

“I.N, I-I didn’t-“

There was a pause as she heard a clatter of junk far away. Both their heads spun to look in the direction of the noise. His hands moved to press her into the hoard, almost protectively. I.N’s head seemed to move unnaturally too far as like an owl.

Without his focus on her, she felt like she could think for a moment. It was like she was pulled up from a dark ocean and finally could breathe. Her brain wasn’t as hazy, but the headache was still there. Pulsing behind her eyes. Restlessness crawled at her skin. She felt too hot under his coat suddenly. Shifting in his embrace, she pushed at the furs on her shoulders.

“Treasure,” his attention was brought back to her immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked insistently.

Treasure, he called her that again. He knew her name yet called her that. He didn’t know her… but it felt like he did.

“I just need some air.” She mumbled, trying to stand.

His arms fell away as he stood with her. “Oh, oh.”

There was another noise. Was that crying she heard? A soft sobbing, mournful, fearful. Her eyes widened as she turned towards the sound.

“What’s that?” she murmured.

“The Forgotten folk are loud sometimes; you’ll get used to it,” he reassured, hand going to grab hers as he helped her balance upon the hoard. “You have me too if things get difficult. I always help.”

Help… how was he helping now? She felt the dichotomy of calm and utter discomfort clash in her chest. Like gaining consciousness in a dream, she knew this wasn’t quite right. Nothing felt right. Not this place, not him, and not herself.

“What are the Forgotten?” she turned to look at him now. Questions on her tongue rather than him questioning her. “Who are they?” she corrected.

“Oh, it’s just those who were, as the name implies, forgotten or banished – like you and I,” I.N sympathized, his yellow eyes soft as he squeezed her hand. Which was he? Forgotten or banished? “Anything that is lost or forgot end up here – for some reason. We’ve made do regardless. It’s the way of the Underground.”

Underground. She latched onto that name like it was water in the desert. It fit like a key into a grand door; snapping in easy. Her hand left his.

“The Underground. That’s where we are.” She whispered in understanding, looking up at the skylight above them. There was a gaping maw of light pouring down from the cavern sky. She realized she’s seen it before. The tumbling sunshine in the darkness. Casting shadows over endless walls. Endless road, footfalls against cobblestone, infinite walking. Circles and circles. Row after row, it was a repeating maze.

“There was a Labyrinth.” She murmured.

A Labyrinth. Yes, she had been in a Labyrinth. Why was there a Labyrinth in the first place though? An itch at the back of her brain. Her throat closed up in frustration. She was trying to do something. Escape? Win? Complete it? Why?

She took a step forwards, down the large pile of things. Her jewels and gems jingled with the movement. Her gaze flickered to them. They were vibrant in the sunlight. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, moonstones, and amethysts. Amethyst eyes. Jeweled eyes. Dark waves of hair.

“Hah,” I.N let out a soft laugh that sounded more like air than a laugh. “Look at you, you remembered that all by yourself.” 

Turning, she saw him reaching for his discarded coat, his hands trembling. She swore she saw smoke billow from his nostrils.

“Where is the Labyrinth? Is it far?” she asked.

I.N’s fists balled up in the coat.

“That’s not important,” he muttered out. He licked at his fangs. “You are in the City of the Forgotten now. You are a Forgotten.”

It was final sounding. Demanding. Like a child making up rules during make-believe. Her brows pursed, looking up at I.N. He turned his back to her for a moment, placing his furs aside with the perfectionism of a mother bird making a nest.

“The Forgotten are my kin… my responsibility.” he continued after a moment, tucking items just right into his hoard. His words were spoken fondly. “They’re, in a way, my family. I was abandoned and I take in any who faces the same fate. Like you. You are my responsibility, YN.”

Despite his fond tone, she remembered walking through the so-called city. It was decrepit. The folk looked cold and swallowed up by things, junk. They didn’t look happy.

Y/N!

Her head turned towards what she swore was her name.

“Did you hear that?” she exclaimed.

I.N rose, stepping to the level above her looking out in the direction she was. Over towering piles of junk and mess. Trash heaps of toys and broken furniture and forgotten records and rotten books.

“It was probably nothing,” he commented. “Pernella or something…”

Her name hadn’t been Pernella. It was Prelle. He didn’t even care she realized, staring over at him in surprise. She watched him for a moment before turning away, listening, and trying fruitlessly to remember more.

The fae’s face turned stoney as he listened closely. His eyes were distant, glowing their haunting yellow-tone as he listened, listened, listened. He could hear her heartbeat (oh, so interesting how it gurgled and pumped), but also her name called far into the distance. Not just one voice, many. Even his.

This Runner had help. This Runner was not forgotten yet. How did she end up here? His gaze slid over to take in her visage. Greedily. He blinked once, twice, three times before her gaze rose to meet his reptilian pupils. He smirked, fangs and all.

“He’s looking for you,” I.N murmured, hushed like telling a secret. “So many people are looking for you, little Treasure. Oh, you must be so very coveted.”

His eyes held a different look than before. His lips spread into a wide smile. It felt predatory rather than the helpful light hearted smiles he had thrown her way earlier. Sharp. Full of teeth. She took a step away, her foot creaking as it met the corner of an old oaken furniture piece that was buried amongst his hoard.

“And you’re all mine!”

He grasped her hand before she could tumble away. Her eyes blinked in surprise as she took in the man holding her like a ragdoll. His large shadow cast over her, shielding her from the bright sunlight. His form loomed over her, as well as his large scaley wings. They jutted out of his shoulder blades, out of his now-torn white silk shirt, almost grotesquely. Sinewy, twisted greenish flesh that was had the same scales as his sharp cheekbones. Amongst its divots and skeletal curves were things embedded into his scales. Jewels, coins, bits of metal. Flesh grew around it as if the very jewels and finery was becoming him. The large tips of his wings had a fine webbing of spider-silk and sparkling magic dust as if they hadn’t been used in decades.

“Don’t. Don’t be afraid,” he hushed, looking hypnotically caring. Almost pouting as she stared with large scared eyes. “Don’t be afraid. Please. I’ll take the best care of you, Treasure.”

“What?” she replied, horrified.

Why was he speaking like she was some object, a pretty thing to keep on a shelf? Like a child pleading for a new toy. All he did was smile, condescendingly. With a tug, he pulled her upright once more. Her hands pressed into the muscular planes of his chest. He was so hot… literally. He felt like a hotwire beneath her palms.

His eyes flickered to her fingertips before meeting her gaze once more, smiling a grin full of fangs. One hand went to brush over her hand with his claws, soothingly. This time she felt what he had been tracing over her skin. I. N. I.N. I.N over and over. As if branding her.

Her hand jolted away from his chest.

“Who is looking for me? Who is this he you keep saying?” she asked, the uncomfortable twinge in her throat reminding her that she should know. She should know. Who was it? There was another phantom call of her name like a tug to her very soul.

“I need to go,” she finally said, trying to pull from his embrace.

His hands felt harsh then. They shifted from holding her around her waist to digging into her hips. Holding onto her too tightly like a child pulling a toy doll from another in jealousy.

“No.” The Finder-Keeper of Lost Things glared down at her petulantly.

“They didn’t protect you.” He argued. “Cherish you. Why go back to them?”

“I—” she tried to find her words as he hugged her tight, hugged her like she was nothing but a stuffed bear. His stuffed bear. His thing. She tried to shove him away, but he simply grabbed her wrists in his to stop her struggling.

“I will,” he promised wholeheartedly. He tugged her this way and that as he began to trek up his hoard. Her feet slid against gold coins and silken things; he held onto her tighter still.

“I’ll take good care of you – you’ll see. I’ve seen what you’ve been through – what you wanted… I can be more than him than them” He was murmuring. “If he comes…. No, no, this is perfect.”

She felt like a ragdoll as he plopped her down beside his makeshift throne, in a pile of prettied velvet dresses and soft lace curtains. YN shifted to stand immediately but he placed a hand on her shoulder as he sat down, pushing her to kneel.

What was happening? This wasn’t what she had expected when she had come into his lair. Prelle, that little goblin, seemed so intent on helping. This didn’t feel like helping. Who was he? Who were they? They hadn’t cherished her? What did that even mean?

Who even was I.N?

No, she needed to get out of here.

“I.N, stop,” she yelped, pushing his hand away. “I’m confused and-“ 

“I know you are, but I’ll help you,” he replied like second-nature, grasping her wrist again.

“No. I think I need to leave. I need to go,” She insisted. “I need to think - alone.”

It was like someone shot a bullet through her brain. Like fingers dug into them with nails, no, claws.

“Leave?” he breathed as she heaved out a gasping silent scream. “No. No.”

It was then she felt it. Not the pain she had felt race through her temple but the strange emotions that crashed through her like deep dark ocean waves. There was the comfort of sleeping with one leg over the mattress, but it mixed with the dread of a monster grabbing your ankle. There was the familiarity of the night sky full of stars, but it mixed with that feeling of being watched as you walked to your car at night. There was soft ooey gooey warmth, but it felt almost like being suffocated by a pillow. Her head heaved with a dizziness.

I.N had her other wrist in his grasp once more, clawed hand wrapping around it fully. He looked petulant.

“You can’t leave.” He declared. “You haven’t remembered anything. I was helping you remember. I promised.”

Remember. All this talk of remembering yet as they stared at one another she could feel her memories drain from her. Who had walked her here? When had she come to sit here? Where was the fur jacket that had just been around her shoulders and why was it gone? How was she forgetting everything?

Desperately, she had clung to the things she had discovered, listing them over and over:

One: She wasn’t home. Not at all. He had made the mimicry of her bedroom – and she didn’t know why.

A twinge of uncertainty like the clash of cymbals suddenly in a song.

Two: She was in a place called the Underground; in a land called the City of the Forgotten. She had been in a Labyrinth before.

Like high pitched violins.

Three: People were looking for her. She didn’t know who but they were calling her name, searching for her.

Like a crawling synth.

Four: She didn’t like this feeling, feeling like a doll, feeling controlled. She wanted her own say.

Like a harpsicord being struck over and over.

Fear. Discord. Uncertainty.

Five…. Five… She had remembered things – but any time she tried to grasp at them it disappeared but if she just let it be – things came to her. The Labyrinth…. Walking through it with… Han, that was his name, yes. Han.

What did she want now? In this clash of feelings, she tried to sort and cling to anything. Home. Right? She wanted her home. I.N had said that before. It felt like a parasite biting into her skin. Her thoughts and feelings felt foreign in his grasp. I.N had a home for her. A perfect replica… that’s what it was, wasn’t it? He had said he had found the things. Finders-Keepers. No, it was strange. She didn’t want what he scavenged. Didn’t want to be his thing. Nothing made sense; even her thoughts became a jumble.

What did she want? Truly want? Without I.N telling her. A pain shot through her head in retaliation. Her eyes scrunched in pain but she kept trying.

“Stop. Thinking.” He growled out. “You’re fine, stupid human.”

“Stop. It,” she bit back, grimacing as the pain increased. Like nails in her brains. She writhed in his hold. “Let go of me.”

Her eyes flashed to meet his and, with his petulant brattiness, she retaliated by tugging her wrists away with a sharp tug. With too much force! Pettily, he let go with ease, and watched almost gleefully as she tumbled off the side of his hoard. Hitting chalices, wooden legs of chairs, sharpened corners of picture frames.

Y/N coughed as she landed onto the dirt floor, rolling until she came to a stop against one of the many piles of junk. It hurt. But it was less painful than the stabbing pain in her skull, one she realized only occurred when they touched now.

“You promised,” she wheezed. “I would be safe here.”

I.N sneered down at her from his hoard, shadow cast over and hiding her from the light. His wings flexed as he spoke, like a peacock’s feathers jittering and fluffing. “I didn’t hurt you; you hurt yourself by falling, why didn’t you catch yourself?”

Her eyes flashed up to glare at the Finder-Keeper of Lost Things. “You’ve been hurting me this entire time,” she pointed out. Glancing down, she could see the bruises on her wrists from his man-handling. “You treated me like a ragdoll. I’m not just some thing for you to control.”

“I never promised your safety; I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” He scoffed, and this time she did see the smoke tumble from his nose. “I’ve treated you better than those who tossed you aside. Neither of them wanted you, what use are you?” He was cruel. Like a spoiled child, he spoke without thought. “I gave you comfort did I not? Look around.”

He gestured widely at the trash about like it was some palace.

“You’re nothing but a controller…a hoarder,” she spat out.

He shrugged as he began to creep down the high ground to meet her. Too tempted to play with his toy once more. “It’s my world, Treasure. I make the best out of the trash I receive and trust me,” he crouched down to glare down at her. His eyes gleamed like flames. “There’s a lot of trash out there. I hear gossip all day; pointless rattle about dumb mementos and ugly old things I don’t care about. But, I always listen and take the important pieces. Like your little memories.” His clawed finger prodded at her temple harshly.

“My memories,” she breathed in. “You took them.”

“I love shiny things and your glittering memories were floating lost; thanks to some of the King’s magic I’m sure,” he said with a scowl. “He threw them away – he threw you away.”

Keep him talking.

“And you lured me here then?”

“Lured you? No, no, I saved you. That’s what you don’t get,” I.N snarled, his wings opening full-scale. “I caught you from your fall into oblivion. I made an altar for my intrigue. It’s perfect in its replication! You didn’t even notice it was a copy of your room until you opened the door to the Underground.” His words were sharp as his fanged teeth. “You slept peacefully; you came to me peacefully. I kept you safe and soft and happy and comfortable. And you still can’t accept my words? You keep thinking and wanting and remembering! Remember what I want you to remember! Why would you want the struggle of the Labyrinth?” He growled out. “I take care of my things unlike him. I’m a far better King!”

He was just spoiled child she realized. Envious, jealous, greedy, clinging to anything that may be of worth. Anything to match the King.

“The King.” She repeated.

Flashes of a man with stormy eyes, twirling under a canopy of sparkling shimmering pearlescence, a memory of lying in bed with him, a sunrise haloing him. Memories of his prowl towards her and… and Han. The fae whose jewels rested on her hip.

I.N cursed. The room grew hot like coals were under the rickety floor boards, filling the room with tense hot air. His form shimmered and flickered like the concrete on a hot summer’s day.

“You’re remembering more and more, how? Your memories are mine; you are mine!” he growled out. “You’re a clever little Runner, aren’t you?”

Runner. Like a key unlocking a door, that word flushed her memories out. “Turn back while you still can, my dear Runner.” Hyunjin. The Labyrinth. His ethereal face. The ball. The clock chiming out another hour gone. Her task at hand.

She had to get going. She had to find the Labyrinth’s entrance. How much time had gone by?! How did she even end up here? There was the allusion – Hyunjin and her in a grand ballroom but she knew that it had been a trick. It had looked like a desert outside of I.N’s lair; was she back at the start? Her thoughts were running a mile a minute.

“Shit,” he cursed as he watched her stumble back.

“I remember everything.” She breathed.

“How?” I.N simmered. “How did you do that?”

The room grew hotter and hotter, blistering and smelling like rotten trash, like burnt ashes, like sulfur. There was no smile on his lips, instead there was annoyance gracing his face, as he began to circle her like a predator. One heavied bootstep at a time.

“You’re really getting on my nerves. You seemed so sweet at first. I’ve dealt with lost, forgotten Runners before – my mother was even one, well, not my real mom but you know, finders-keepers,” he laughed so coldly.

His smile fell as he glared at her with the ferociousness of a beast. Fae were always so animalistic at heart she had to remind herself. He stopped in front of her, leering down at her.

“So, I like you Runners; have a soft spot even. Once-human changelings are interesting folk, and I hadn’t seen a pure human in so long,” he ranted. “I was excited because I know one day he would throw you away, and I’d have a new treasure.”

“Imagine my surprise when I just… found you, floating lost!” he beamed, but the smile was vicious. “I can have you before him! Keep you hidden from him! Mold you. Lock away your memories. A perfect lost Treasure.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” she replied steadily. “I must face the quest. I want to go home. What would happen when times runs out and I was here still? Knowing him, he’d come for me. This is his and I’s game! Why interfere?”

I.N sighed, his sharp features not softening. The curl of his lips not gentling. His head swiveled like a snake as he began to circle her with long strides.

“Why would you try to fight him?” he ridiculed. “And now, you fight against me too? I am stronger than you, little human. I am more powerful than him; I know it. If he came, I’d burn him.” he snarled. Heat grew all around them like embers being fanned. “I will burn him.”

“I don’t care. I don’t trust you. Especially now. I don’t want your protection.” Her glare was fierce. “I don’t need it.”

She turned away from him, preparing to just leave. But his hand grasped her arm once ore. This time no pain radiated up her neck, and instead he flinched as a shock went through his brain. He stumbled back. I.N looked at her for a moment before baring his teeth, frustration building. His fingers curled into fists, trembling fists.

“You aren’t listening. That doesn’t matter to me. I know you humans struggle with the truth. But you are smart, Y/N. You will lose against him regardless – why go through strife? Why lose? I can make it all feel better.”

She scowled at him. His eyes were a warm orange as he took a step forward, scowl remaining on his sharp lips. He licked his lip and gave into his temptation, his curiosity, his need to control. He took another step closer and grasped her wrist again with a sharp tug. He was strong, biceps flexing beneath a soft linen shirt.

Burning pain flashed in her eyes as she locked gazes with the Finder-Keeper as he dug into her brain, like he had done this entire time.

“I can protect you. More than… Jisung,” he murmured, eyes shutting and Y/N could feel his fingers in her brain. Sorting through her head, poking and prodding. He took another step close still. “Or Changbin… Or Chris.” He added.

She felt the pain build. It felt like her head was going to explode. She heaved and huffed. Her eyes shut.

“Hyunjin…” he laughed at the reveal of the King’s true name. “…would be drawn here, and-and I could fight him. I have my own horde; his own Runner, no, his Changeling is mine; I could be king of the Underground.”

“You’re using me,” she bit out. “Let me go.”

“I won’t.” he replied; there was that stabbing pain, her mouth gasping. “You are mine, YN. Stop running.”

Her own anger bubbled up. “I don’t want to be your pawn in a power grab. I am not yours. I am not his. I am my own.”

In her declaration, all the pain that flooded her brain surged into I.N, making his eyes flash open and an agonized cry break from his mouth. Her hand snapped from his, breaking whatever power he had to look into her head. Before, she reeled back with all her pent-up frustration and shoved him back. He stumbled. The grand fae, somehow, stumbled and fell into his hoard, pathetically. Things crumbled in from his body weight, his wings flicking jewels and gold aside with. Stuff and trash tumbled down in a mini-avalanche over his form. Shaking them away, he let out a distressed cry, a yell. There was a trembling, a fragmentation around him like his form was nothing but a reflection cracking and shattering into a shimmering collection of floating shards.

“You wretched creature,” he growled, no, he heaved. There was something animalistic growing in his voice.  His anger had reached a breaking point. “I am here at the point of triumph and you dare go against me! How?” It was a screech.

“Not a creature just human.” she retorted. “I’ll do anything to get away from you, from him. You’ve seen my mind. You think I’m lying?”

He chuckled but it sounded more like a sort of clicking as he hoisted himself up.

“Stupid human resilience. You leave me no choice.” He breathed. “You don’t wish to be mine willingly?” He laughed. “I’ll make you my prisoner. Every princess needs her dragon, no?”

Her brows only pursed for a brief moment before there was a loud noise. A cracking sound reverted throughout the chamber, almost like an egg breaking into a million pieces. A burst of energy sent her tumbling back, landing on her back. I.N burst forth, no longer a man but a beast. Scaley and draconic. His form was almost as large as the atrium as he shivered and crackled into the monstrous form. Heavied clawed feet crashed into the ground; his hoard crushed by his monstrous weight. A roar broke through the lair. His attention had been dragged from her to his destroyed altar. The sound that escaped him was less angry and more mournful. A cry.

With a snap of his large, scaled head, his reptilian eyes locked on her. Her. She caused this. His claw rose up and slammed down to trap her – or it would have if she hadn’t shimmied away. Feet kicked dirt up as she clawed her way up into a standing position.

There was a growl, a plume of smoke escaped his nose in frustration.

Okay, okay, okay, this was dangerous. It felt more dangerous than the Direwoods. They had never been angry; I.N was furious. She needed to get out of here.

The Runner did what she did best. She turned and ran. A screech followed after her – it shook the room with its loudness. 

Go, go, go.

She weaved under junk-made arches; the heavied prowl of the beast crawled after her. Ramming through its own hoard, through the tall archways and piled stacks. Destruction reigned as she dodged falling debris. He let out a roar. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted as she sprinted faster and faster. The entire ‘palace’ was falling down; his form destroying his own things in his greed.

As she pushed aside the curtains that had shielded the grand abode, she could only see pandemonium. Creatures running back and forth, goblin figures chittering as they held onto their loved things. Trash piles trembled and slid into the make-shift roads as I.N’s draconic form shook the very earth.

“I.N, I.N, please,” there were cries of the Forgotten, pleading with the dragon to stop. Some offered the dragon their beloved objects as if it would calm him. But he didn’t care for his Forgotten. He only wanted what was new – he wanted Y/N. His eyes didn’t stray from her running form.

He simply slithered forward. His large body pushed past small goblins and fae folk easily. As she continued to sprint, she could see fae with tear streaks, with fear, with awe.

“Y/N!” she heard a voice cry out, far away. “Where are you?”

“Stop,” she swore she heard I.N’s monstrous voice growl out through embers of fire.

She couldn’t even reply as she continued to weave in between the makeshift town. All the while, I.N continued his destruction until, with a grand heaving of his wings, he took to the skies. His wings flushed open, the embedded junk in his skin coming loose and clattering to the ground. Covered in magic and gore. His form flew high with an electrifying roar.

YN couldn’t stop the shriek that escaped her mouth as a shadow covered her form, ominously. He flew high, higher, higher. He was about to overtake her, crush her, snap her up into his claws. Until, with a yank, he was tugged down to the earth violently. In his furious chase, things had tangled around his large ankles, cords of television wire, old spools of yarn, chains of old. He was grounded quickly with a thud. A dirt cloud roiled up from his form in a dusty wind that chased after with a fury. Looking back, she only ran faster, trying to avoid the destruction.

“Y/N!” she heard her name again. It was Changbin. She knew it. She knew his voice. Its squeaky confidence

“Changbin! Chris!” she yelled out. “Han!”

There was a screech of a roar from I.N. Angered, mournful, frustrated, petulant. Into the pathway, an inferno of fire erupted from his maw. The dust cloud exploded behind her into a firestorm. Y/N screamed as she turned a corner to avoid the flames. She kept running; she couldn’t stop. Especially with fire licking at her ankles. She ran and ran, dodging and jumping over junk. Until there was a large trash embankment in front of her that kept the City of the Forgotten far in the ditches below the Underground. So, with little thought, she began to climb.

A roar pierced the air and heat burned, but she kept climbing. Feet digging into who knew what. Sometimes it was spongey; sometimes it was hard; sometimes it was sticky. She heaved herself up and over junk. Climbing higher and higher, further and further. Until she was out of breath. Sweat tumbled down her temples. Hoisting herself over the lip of the embankment, she stumbled over a pile of trash, falling harshly. The little air she had left got knocked out of her as she laid face down, gasping.

She heard a roar, something unlike she hadn’t heard before. Panting, she turned over and saw the City of the Forgotten aflame. Golden in the sunlight pouring down from a skylight, the flames burned brilliantly. Precious memories and golden pieces of junk all lit in an angry red blaze. In the thick of it was a huge dragon, tearing at the junk that trapped him. There was a roar of despair, anger and want from his animalistic lungs. Flames licked out of his mouth, dripping like slime.

“Oh my god,” she muttered. Y/N hadn’t expected that. She expected I.N to be angry if she kept going against him, but she didn’t expect this.

Crawling backwards as she tried to pull herself to her feet with aching limbs and bruised knees (the tended-to-cuts on her body were torn back open as if the very City was taking back all it had done to help her.) She stumbled in exhaustion, knees hitting the dirt. Ash-covered and heaving, she tried again to stand. She couldn’t stop. She had to get out of here. Where was the Castle? Where was the path? Where were her friends?

The inferno of flames billowed up into a whirlwind until there was whoosh through the Underground. Like a burst of wind, a green flash burned bright across the lands, so bright that it made her turn her head into her arms and curl into the dirt mound she had climbed. Then, there was rain tumbling over the city in a raging storm. Lightning zapped; a smoke clung low over the City of the Forgotten in a dark cloud.

The rain wasn’t nicer than the fire. No, the rain raged as if spurred on by an angry god. Rainwater soaked her quickly, turning the dirt below her into mud. Small floods trickled over the lip of the embankment and tumbled into the Junkland below. There was another crash of lightning nearby, and she flinched away, scooting away on the soft mulch only for her hand to rest upon a leathered boot.

“I told you it would be foolish to take up this quest,” his voice growled out. “Now, you are destroying my kingdom in your attempt!”

Hyunjin was angry. Rageful. More so than I.N, even. But there was something different in their energies. One was a pretend king and the other was a King. He wasn’t just angered at her recklessness because he was. But he was angry at the harm she had put the kingdom in. When she tilted her head up with ash in her rain-soaked hair, Y/N saw a flicker of his true powers.

While he had always been dangerously ethereal – now, he looked unnatural. The gleam of the extinguishing dragon-fire on his skin made the glimmer of magic under his skin burn and sparkle. As if he was made of magic not flesh and bone. His blue eyes were wild as a hurricane. His hair, now an ink-black tone, fluttered around him like feathers. His form didn’t flicker or shudder like I.N’s did as he grew angrier. He didn’t even have the animalistic traits like the Direwood Trio. No, his body could hold his emotions, his magic, but the air around him raged on. The rain pelted her like heavy teardrops and the fire-smoke in the air smelt different than the fire of the dragon.

He seethed. “Explain yourself, Y/N.”

Thunder crashed as the rain poured on.

“I didn’t do anything,” she bit out as she willed herself to stand on shaky limbs.

Her body hurt. She didn’t know how much of her agony I.N had taken in his efforts to make her comply. Taking a breath, she leveled her gaze on him. Anger coursed through her as she realized he blamed her for this. For I.N’s anger when all she was trying to do was escape another one of his tricks.

“This is your doing. You poisoned me.” She gritted out, less of a splutter and more of a thrown accusation. Just as he had accused her. “You poisoned me and distracted me from the Labyrinth with that stupid ball – that was not fair.”

He did bare his fangs this time. They were sharp canines that were prettied and polish unlike the chipped fangs of Chris. Like he’s never used them in his life.

“I did no such thing – your friend,” the word was growled out with harshness,” Jisungie gave you my gift. He poisoned you.”

“Because of you!” She screeched. “I’m not stupid, Hyunjin.” She threw his true name at him just as he had thrown Jisung’s name. “Because of your unfair power.” she pointed at him. “Power you tried to wield over me in that place! You bastard.”

“You’re cursing me, my dear Runner?” he warned with a snarl of his lip as he approached deathly slow. “Distraction is a pathetic word for how much you enjoyed the hallucination – it was your own fantasy broug-“ His lips were curled almost condescendingly at her fantasies.

“And,” she interrupted him with ease as the rain grew ‘til all she could see was rain. His form blurred until she crept closer still in her anger. She noticed then that his form was untouched by the water as he glared down at her defiance. Meanwhile, she spluttered over the downpour as it soaked her to the bone. A hand wiped away drenched hair from her eyes as she continued.

“Then, you dropped me into this stupid city with that, I don’t know, keeper of memories! He was stealing memories from me – I bet from everyone down there! He knew what I was thinking, what my life was, everything – he was going to use me against you. What the fuck?” 

“Yet you somehow led himself to burning down his domain?” Hyunjin laughed out, disbelievingly.

After all, she was just a human. She couldn’t have… could she? What could she had done to anger I.N so?

I.N’s anger had confused her. She hadn’t meant to anger him so much into destruction just enough to give her information, enough to distract him as she left. But something about her spurred him into a draconic rage. She didn’t know exactly what – she just… was herself.

(Little did she know that few could fight against magic – if it was her status as Runner or something more, it was hard to tell.)

“You can’t win by death, Y/N. You can’t win by destruction.” He reminded. The King listed out the rules, as if it mattered, as if she was cheating. He’s cheated countless times this game.

In that moment, the human was almost to her nose to the King. If she could manipulate the Underground, there surely would be a hurricane raging.

“I didn’t start a fire; I wasn’t trying to hurt myself. I am not to blame for this,” she said solidly. “I escaped him; I outwitted him, and he was angry. Just like you will be – if this stupid Labyrinth will stop playing stupid tricks!”

“That’s the game, Y/N,” he replied, calmly. Too calm for the way his eyes crashed with ocean waves and the world drowned around them in rain. Too calm for the way he had previously seethed.

“It’s not right!” she said. “So much of this is fucked. I’m tired of the shifting walls and shifting fae folk.”

“Then give up!” Hyunjin bit out. A desperation in his tone. Almost like her agony hurt him. Ridiculous.

“After all this, I’d rather die!” she yelled. Tears burned in her eyes. “I’ve fought through your challenges, through dangers and hardships unnumbered!” Her voice broke.

Hyunjin’s skin prickled with gooseflesh at her words; words he knew like the shape of his own teeth in his mouth. He couldn’t let her finish them – ever.

“And it’s all for nothing, Runner,” Hyunjin reminded cruelly, cutting her off quick. “I will never grant your freedom, not now.”

Not when he’s finally met his match. He’s seen her devotion in their shared hallucination. He had seen her potential in brains. And now, she was the only one to stand up to him in ages. She has conquered the hearts of his Beast-Hunter, the Knight of Magic, the most fearsome of the Direwoods, and the Labyrinth’s last Dragon-Fae. Even his once-best friend.

His fascination with her now made sense with a deafening realization.

His storm began to subside; the city’s fires extinguished and the sounds of I.N’s despaired cries echoing through the air. Y/N couldn’t help but feel like it was the cries of a child, an abandoned lost child. Not the dragon that had destroyed his own hoard. Whatever I.N’s true name was – that was who was crying.

As the rain stopped, Hyunjin looked untouched by the rain – prettied curls in place, not a droplet of water on his velvet cloak or porcelain white blouse. His eyes remained locked on hers. Y/N was a different story. Rain-soaked, looking like a drowned rat, her hair dripped and clung to her anger-flushed cheeks and neck. Her eyes were red from the smoke and her tears. Red blood that smelt of sweet-iron dripped off her in rivulets. Red mud clung to once-pristine new clothes.

She looked like she had suffered through a hurricane or that she was a hurricane embodied.

“I will never let you go.”

“Try taking my freedom from me,” she bit back at him. Her mouth wasn’t full of fangs, but he swore her teeth were sharpened in this moment. “The deal is still on, Goblin King. I haven’t failed yet.”

His smile was equally sharp, fang-filled as his hand rose to pinch her chin. Nails dug into her skin, affectionately violent. He grinned wider as he heard her soft gasp as his clawed jewelry pierced her tender flesh.

“As you wish, beloved Runner,” he promised with a snarl.

His hand pulled away after a moment. Blood pearled at her chin into ruby teardrops, staining his false claws and dripping down her chin. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he sniffed deeply, taking in the magnetic lure of her blood. He waved his non-bloodied hand to their side, revealing the damned clock once more. It floated ominously in the air.

“You have two hours and 43 minutes left on the dial. Good luck.”

And he disappeared like dust in the wind, the only proof he had been there was the blood dripping at her chin – and her rain-soaked spirit.

[hyunjiiniw]

*ੈ✩ (현진)

WINTER DAY

making your childhood best friend realise his feelings for you.

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✩ bestfriend!hyunjin fem!reader ONESHOT, best friends to lovers, closed-ending,cute/romantic,idiots in love,disgustingly in love,fluff,comfort.

✩ hyunjiniw’s note my first hyunjin fluff and work on tumblr,taglist is open and requests as well,i hope you will like this fic,it’s based purely on my imagination,comments,likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!

✩ happy reading to you <3

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me and hyunjin,my childhood best friend,were walking home after school,bundled up in scarves and coats,surrounded by the magic of a fresh snowfall. it’s tradition-every year since we were kids,we’ve spent the first snow day together,building snowmen,throwing snowballs,baking cookies and hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows,hyunjin exaggerating and putting on top even some sprinkles,saying ‘it’s not sweet enough’ , watching christmas movies under the warm blankets,my head on his shoulder and the cup of hot cocoa in my hands,warming me up,as i glanced at him from time to time,even at the tree we both put up every year and decorated,never getting tired of doing so,or just talking about everything and nothing.

but this year feels different,he’s quieter,distracted,and keeps sneaking glances at me when he think i’m not looking,feeling his every move,hearing his every breath and how the snow under our feet sounds every time we take another step,walking down the familiar path,the air crisp,our breaths visible as little puffs of steam,the silence wasn’t unusual between us two,but tonight it felt heavier somehow.

“you’re unusually quiet today” I teased,nudging him with my elbow. “not plotting your next prank,are you?” as i chuckled silently,trying to raise the mood up,needing to get rid of the tension in the air.

he chuckled,his voice warm despite the chill “no.just..thinking”

“uh-oh.that’s dangerous” i quipped,but he didn’t take the bait.instead,he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and kept walking,glancing at me every so often.

when we reached the park,the sight of the untouched snow lit up my face,despite the frozen state i was in,my cheeks nose and ears pink from the cold,lips trembling,i said,turning to hyunjin “first snow!we have to build the best snowman yet.”

he smirked “or,we could have a snowball fight,and i could remind you who the real champion is.” putting his hands on his hips,a dumb but pretty smile on his lips,his eyes getting smaller from the action,making me smile and nod my head eagerly at his words.

raising my eyebrow,i scooped up a handful of snow “big words for someone who’s about to lose” my smile never leaving my face,my hands already freezing from the snow i touched and still have in my hands,waiting for the moment to throw it at him.

the fight began with laughter echoing trough the empty park,the sound carrying trough the still winter night.snowballs flew back and forth,each hit followed by bursts of giggles and dramatic cries of defeat.i ducked behind a tree,peeking out just in time to see him grinning mischievously as he lobbed a snowball my way.i dodged it easily,the snow scattering harmlessly against the bark.

“you’re slipping!” i called out,scooping up another handful of snow. “where’s that legendary aim you’re so proud of?”

he chuckled,his voice warm and carefree. “oh,don’t worry about me.just give it your best shot.”

i narrowed my eyes playfully,hurling another snowball his way.this one hit its mark-right on his shoulder.hyunjin stumbled back a step,clutching at the spot dramatically. “you’ve got good aim today” he said,a faint smile tugging at his lips.

but something was off.he wasn’t dodging like he usually did,and his throws lacked their usual precision.instead of chasing me with relentless energy,he lingered in one spot,occasionally glancing at me in a way that made my stomach flip.

“you’re not even trying” i accused,taking a step closer,another snowball already in my hand.

“maybe i’m giving you a chance” he teased,but his voice was softer,almost distracted.

“yeah,right” i shot back,launching the snowball with a little more force.this time,it hit him square in the chest,and he stumbled back,his hands flying up in surrender.

“okay,okay,you win!” hyunjin called out,breathless but smiling.

i lowered my hands,my grin fading as i looked at him.his cheeks were flushed—not just from the cold,i realised—and his chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.but it wasn’t just the usual post-snowball-fight exhaustion.his eyes were fixed on me,soft and unguarded in a way that sent warmth flooding trough me,even in the freezing air.

“are you okay?” i asked him,stepping closer. “you’ve been weird all night.did i hit you too hard or something?” my hands going to his shoulders,dusting off the remains of the snowballs that i threw earlier at him,not so long ago.

he let out a soft laugh,shaking his head. “no,you didn’t.i just..” his words trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck,avoiding my gaze.

“you just..what?” i pressed,my voice gentler now.

for a moment,he didn’t answer,his breath visible in the cold air.then he looked down at me,and the vulnerability in his expression made my chest ache.

“you’re all i can think about” he said softly,the words tumbling out like he couldn’t hold them in any longer.

my heart stopped. “me?”

he nodded,a nervous laugh escaping him. “yeah.i’ve been trying to figure it out for months,but tonight i just..i can’t hold it in anymore.you’re all i can think about.”

i blinked,the world around me suddenly feeling still. “but…we’re best friends” i whispered,my voice barely audible.

“i know” he said quickly “and i get it if you don’t feel the same,but..i can’t keep pretending nothings changed.not for me,anyway”

my breath caught,a mix of emotions swirling inside of me “i…”

he took a step back,shaking his head “forget i said anything.i probably just ruined everything,didn’t i?”

before he could turn away,i grabbed his scarf,pulling him closer. “you’re an idiot” i said,my cheeks burning.

his eyes widened “what-?”

instead of answering,i grinned and shoved a snowball into his face.as he spluttered and tried to wipe the snow off,i laughed,my heart feeling lighter than it had in ages.

“what do you think?” i asked,still smiling.

realisation dawned on his face,and he broke into a wide grin. “so..you do..?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t” i replied,trying to sound nonchalant,but my voice wavered just enough to give me away.

hyunjin laughed,stepping closer and tugging gently on my scarf “you’re an idiot too,you know that?”

“guess we’re a perfect match,then” i shot back,my smile softening.

as snow continued to fall around us,the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us,standing in the park where so many childhood memories had been made.

and where one very new one had just begun.

[arttsuka]

TBH as much as I prefer Toothless' first movie design, the one thing ill give credit for is the fact that I think the movie producers stated some where that the reason Toothless doesn't have his markings anymore is because he's growing up. Toothless is around Hiccups age which is even something Valka points out in the second movie, so you COULD make the hypothesis that he's loosing his sub-adult/"baby" features. Hence why he's more solid black, has a wider flatter head, and doesn't really have much of his markings anymore.

As for his personality; Toothless has always had the silly side to him regardless of the snark attached. You claim his personality got reduced to this stupid, slobbering 'dog', by the third movie when need I remind you he FULLY acted like a dog even in the first movie. Remember him with his butt wiggles when hiccup woke up? Him bounding about jumping from the rafters. Him making dumb goofy faces and doggy grumbles. He's always been a dork and boxing up his personality to him being "out of character" because he's not as snarky is such an odd take since toothless can and HAS had the ability to be both, not to mention the whole fact that Toothless much like Hiccup is suppose to be maturing into an Adult, but even if that's so, they still have time to have fun and play around, so really you have both sides of the coin there.

As for the Lightfury, ill give you that, they could've done better with her. But to be honest I always look at LF's as being a subspecies to a NF, and even nature has often shown that not all subspecies look entirely similar to the dominant species, which in this case would definitely be Night Furies. I look at her design as a design built more for a life in the light then the dark. Toothless' darker bluish/black coat helps him blend in the night, while the Lightfuries almost pearlescence helps her blend in with the light of the sun. It's probably why she stands out so much at night with her sparkles, because she's not really BUILT for the night like toothless is, same reason as why toothless sticks out like a sore-thumb in the morning. Their both built for varying conditions! So in some instances i can forgive some of the Lightfuries design choices. What I dont like is how bland she looks in terms of lack of spikes or such, but thats neither here nor there

Well sure, they could be his 'baby' features but I do think they made his design way more visually interesting than the solid black he became by movie 3. His model already stands out from every other dragon in universe (his more realistic proportions and the lack of sharp teeth to go with his slender frame)* so these marks really helped him blend more with the designs of the httyd universe.

* there are, arguably, other dragons with round features as well but most of them are the 'fat and slow' archetype (even then there are a lot of 'fat' dragons with excessively sharp teeth)

I feel like the whole 'they're the same age actually' was kind of unnecessary but still, doesn't excuse the chance in face structure to that extent. He looks like he's from another species (what does excuse the changes is the fact that they reworked the model).

And yes he always had that dog side to him even in the first movie BUT his core inspiration and 'values' were cat themed. He retains his cat personality in the second movie too, for the most part (for example, at around 10 minutes mark, we see him 'groom' himself to clean his face). But in the third movie they completely removed all that from his personality. They deliberately made him more dog-like. Even the sounds he makes are made to resemble barking. As for the 'slobbering' dog part it's literally part of the movie (with the poor excuse that 'he's in love').

Idk in the third movie I can't recall even a single moment where he actually acted intelligent on his own volition (I can't remember him acting intelligent at all but let's just say I'm wrong).

In the second movie it was made clear that he's more domesticated but still capable on his own. He didn't need help to socialize with the other dragons so I don't understand why he was so incapable of acting remotely 'normal' to make the light fury like him. Yes, she was unapproachable and cold (*cough playing hard to get because they didn't know what to do with her personality and her as a character cough*) but it still felt ooc.

As you said, Toothless has to ability to be both, at least in the second movie. 2 sides of the same coin, up to the second movie. In the 3rd movie, throughout the runtime, we never see him showing 'his other side'.

I wouldn't say that he matured into an adult but still has time to play, I'd say they reduced him to a less intelligent animal than what he was in previous adaptations (he feels like a Disney animal companion). Again, his characterization in the second movie is how I'd expect him to be in the third. He's arguably way more mature there while also having time to play and have fun while also keeping part of his personality.

As for the light fury, she seems so, out of place in this universe too. At least the design of the night fury has scales and looks rough. She looks like they forgot that she's supposed to be a dragon. But it was obviously done to make her look more 'feminine' (a lot of her design can be explained if you keep in mind they only wanted her to be the 'female' dragon, the romantic interest). She's as stereotypical as it goes, the next level would be to make her pink (that would kinda work actually if they kept Toothless bluish undertones but by the 3rd movie they completely removed them to favor a pure black, a bit on the warmer side)

Her white color makes her blend into the sun, sure, but what does that mean? Does she fly all the time? Or is her natural habitat somewhere with snow? A pure white design is pretty sure, but not practical at all. She appears to be a dragon for warmer climates (and if she's indeed a subspecies to the night fury that would confirm it), so no snow. She just doesn't blend in. Her habitat is so colorful she stands out like sore thumb, both during the day and night time.

Her white skin also makes the choice to make her so smooth really weird. She's basically unable to blend in with her surroundings so one would expect that she'd at least have sharp features, claws or horns, to help her survive potential attacks. If they didn't want to make her look rough they should have made her have a defense mechanism to protect herself. maybe she should be able to turn invisible, maybe she lives in the water, something, anything.

Personally I can't forgive any of the decisions made to create the light fury. I can understand, sure, but I'm still left with so many 'why?'s.

[rebornofstars]

nobody fucking touch me rn i went to see tf one in the cinema and im shaking. they actually made a good transformers movie. what the fuck

[thetinygnome]

To preface, this is post is inspired by my experience watching arcane s2. I both enjoyed and disliked a lot about it, but this is not intended to be an analysis or review and will only contain the absolute vaugest of spoilers.

'That was not the story I wanted it to be' and 'That was not the story i thought it was going to be' are fair but subjective statements, and at the end of the day the story wasn't made with the goal of pleasing my specific tastes.

I generally agree with this sentiment, but something about it bugs me. Surely these expectations don't exist in a vaccum. They come from the primordial soup of me, the media in question, and everything I've ever heard about said media in question. Half the art of storytelling is manipulating, guiding, and playing with what your audience expects. So while the problem may well lie in my own tastes and biases, it could also just be a symptom of genuine lacking in or around the story.

I tried making some checklists to identify what was bugging me about it. (Bit of a longass ramble incoming)

Things outside the text itself that may have affected my expectations of the story:

If this work is in direct conversation with other media eg adaptations, continuations, sequels, prequels, same cinematic universe etc. Especially if I am very familiar with said media. Does it state its relationship to these media properties accurately?

The way the story marketed itself. Are the trailers and blurbs accurate to the tone, themes and genre of the show itself? Does it feel like its striving to be high art or something to watch over dinner?

Related to this is fandom and internet reputation of the story. Are the topics of conversation pushed to the forefront online reflective of their prominence in the story itself?

Do I have a bias regarding the persons or companies creating or distributing this work?

Do I have or lack life experiences that would make the story ressonate more / am I the target audience?

How familiar am I with the tropes and conventions of the relevant medium and genre?

Did I miss key details of storytelling due to outside factors (talking, noise, distraction, zoning out etc)

Things within the text that may have affected expectations:

Foreshadowing. Were things seemingly forshadowed only to not be followed up on? Did huge changes come seemingly out of nowhere? Is it artfully subtle or underwritten?

Exposition. Are they actually telling me (explicitly or otherwise) what I need to know in order to understand what is going on?

Consistency. Particularly with character writing. Are motivations, relationships, personality, morals etc established firmly? If so, than are changes and challenges to these given the time and reasoning required to be convincing?

Pacing. Were we given enough time to take stuff in before moving on? Was a lot of time spent on details and plotlines that ultimately ended up irrelevant while key parts of settup where restricted to a single blink-and-youll-miss-it moment? Do I find myself going "well I mean I don't exactly dissagree that we could end up here but I feel we missed a few steps along the way"?

Themes and genre. Does it follow through with and/or intentionally subvert tropes of the stories it is similar to? Does it have multiple themes and are they of equal importance? Do the pacing and foreshadowing correspondingly reflect that?

Clarity. Related to many of the above, but how many plates are spinning at once, and how many of them are we supossed to care about? On a less abstract level, can I see/hear/read what I need to in order to understand what is going on. In film ig it would be camera angles/lighting/blocking/sound design etc. Definitely elements of skill issue here but worth noting.

Im sure theres many more but

Sigh

Ig I gotta rewatch arcane to see how much of it was a skill issue on my end. Maybe this is the death of media literacy and my brainrotted ass needing to be spoonfed. Or maybe it was actually rushed, dropped key plotlines from the first season, and fastfowarded through character arcs at light speed.

[harrowscore]

a few days ago i (re)watched the 25th anniversary concert of les misérables and. oh god. i forgot how much this musical did éponine dirty

[martyrbat]

so many of you talk about the cruel adults in your childhood that negatively effected you and caused lifelong insecurity yet you're still perfectly fine with being that mean stranger to any kid that has the misfortune of existing around you and thats just really gross !!!

[thebeautifulfantastic]

heard some people saying that hayley atwell's character grace is being set up to be the next ethan hunt and carry on the mission impossible series, and my first thought was "well, she definitely looks just as good in a suit."

[all-hail-trash-prince]

Does anyone else remember the velveteen rabbit?? I went through a phase years ago right around when I was first going on YouTube on my own where I watched every version of it that I could get my grubby little hands on and cried like a baby every time only to go out and find another one

[bredforloyalty]

that was super interesting because i didn't like that but also i feel conflicted