CELEBRATING THE HOLIDAY EVERYONE LOVES TO HATE*
Fandom: taking back Valentine's Day since 2008!
So last year bottle-of-shine had a Kissing Battle. The last edition is here (EDITED TO ADD: this is the old battle, not the current one!). It was a lot of fun and might be known around FF-fandom circles as the best Meme ever**.
Pretty much everyone I know is stressed about something, too, so this round of the ( Read more... )
So last year bottle-of-shine had a Kissing Battle. The last edition is here (EDITED TO ADD: this is the old battle, not the current one!). It was a lot of fun and might be known around FF-fandom circles as the best Meme ever**.
Pretty much everyone I know is stressed about something, too, so this round of the ( Read more... )
"Garland, why are you doing this?"
"Don't you know, Princess? You're the key!"
Sara stared at him, dumbfounded. Day in and day out, this powerhouse of a knight had not once shown the slightest strangeness. She used to watch him, from her bedroom window, training some of Coneria's finest. The way he spoke. Such a fire to his voice. He seemed unreal, a bit of fantasy ripped out of a story and reborn to this world. The best kind of story, too. The grand fairy tale, the kind told to attentive, bright-eyed little girls that could still dare to dream.
She would imagine herself as the ailing princess, captured by a dastardly wizard. Then, in would come: Garland! The man who could defeat a dragon with ease. He would surely have faced hordes of monsters to reach her, his one true love. He would fight and beat the wizard with ease, like all good heroes do, then ask for her hand in marriage. He was Garland. Did he have to ask? Well, yes, but only to play off her fantasy. They both knew the answer, in her dream world where everything went right and the world moved for her.
But she wasn't a little girl. Not anymore.
"The key to my heart!"
And suddenly she felt like she was eight years old again.
"What?!" Sara went pale. Her heart thumped. Her blood felt frozen and rushing all at once. She watched her childhood idol remove his helmet. His dark, horned helmet. She watched his beautiful brown hair spill out onto his shoulders. His eyes, big, round, blue. As she got older, she expected a man with scars. He had none.
"I, Garland, will knock you down!"
Though her eyes were fixed right on the man, she didn't realize his advance until she felt his lips against her shoulder. They traveled up her neck. On her cheek. To her lips.
Her knees buckled. She fell to the ground. Feverish panting. Everything hazy. She peered up at him. Garland. The man of her dreams.
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