When Lyra is taken from her village and forced into a deadly competition for the favor of an unseen, undying king, she refuses to play by fate's rules. But as whispers of forgotten magic stir and shadows creep closer, she realizes the Ruined Kingdom hides a terrible truth—one that ties her fate to the King of Death himself. And Lyra will stop at nothing to break free.

Turn on. Select. Playlist. Love Songs. Play. Series of one-shots.

ONESHOT: He remembered the first time he met her. It was summer, it was hot, and the popsicle she had eaten had left a giant orange stain at the front of her shirt. That's why when her dark blue eyes formed slits on her face, he felt like he was drowning.

ONESHOT: She can feel the chug of the train, feel the whirl of the world as life goes on, as day becomes night, as rain becomes storms.

ONESHOT: Do you remember our first kiss? Our first date? The first moment you said you loved me? 'Cause I do. God, I remember it all. And I don't want to anymore. Not anymore. Not like this.

ONESHOT: If she could take back all the words and bitter angry tears she would. She wishes she could've just held on, chased him, done everything she knows she should've. But she never did.

ONESHOT: She knows she has more to say, so many words left to bite and tear and share. But she won't. He doesn't deserve it. Not anymore, not like this. Potassium. The eleventh letter. An "I-don't-care" thrown right at her face. This time, goodbye.

ONESHOT: She knows it's a sincere sentence, even if she's heard it a million times. A million times from all the rejections, the 'you're not its', or the 'I have someone elses'. She realizes that she should be sorry too, sorry she isn't good enough.

But, wishes don't come true. Not for her, never for her. For, every night she wishes for the same thing… to love… to be loved… and that she was someone else…

Charles Perrault probably never intended for Cinderella to find herself planning to wear flip flops and short shorts, running off in a car, and sneaking out to party and drink a few beers with her Prince Charming… but hey, if the shoe fits…

ONESHOT: For so long, she endured facing the emptiness around her with a serious tone that consumed her being. But then, he showed up. Backwards, forwards, left, and right. Everything she knew...everything changed...right when their fingers intertwined.

EDITED: The line was silent. "But, in case you’re being stupid and your ears aren’t functioning properly, with it being two in the morning and all, I’d just like to say congratulations you’re going to be a father.”

ONESHOT: This was the boy I fell in love with. Yet, I didn’t need a boyfriend, or a lover, or a future. I just needed him, right here, right now.

ONESHOT: And it's a well known fact that Darius Adams never turns a dare down. Ever.

The perfect poker face. The helpless pawn. They were in jeopardy. Spin the wheel of mis-fortune. Checkmate. Game over.

She always looked forwards. She never looked back. She ran. Faster and faster. She ran as far as she could, until she wished the hands of time would slow down and rewind. She wished she could run. Run to what was. Run to him. Run to Neverland.

ONESHOT: Why? Because I said so. I want you to be just like me. Just. Like. Me.

I write these words in silence. White ink against white.

Hey. I'm bored. It's stuck. Slow down! I'm hungry. Watch out! Give it to me. I dare you. Your mom. Stop fighting over the stick. Ditcher. This is hard. Fail. You're a loser. That was rude. That's lame. That's stupid. That's raw. That's what she said.

ONESHOT: Maybe it was a good thing, maybe for once I would be able to breathe. No longer would I have to tread dangerous waters. I could live once again. The game was ending, the board and pieces crumbling beneath my feet.

ONESHOT: I know that’s not the three words you’d expect a girl like me to say, but I’ve learned that lies just make things worse, so I thought I’d start off with the basics—you know, the thing people call the truth?

ONESHOT: It was like riding on handlebars. There were no restraints, no barriers. It was just putting your complete trust in letting someone else take control, and lead you to an unknown destination.

ONESHOT: ...and he's moving away, like the green light suggests.

ONESHOT: So, I guess this is goodbye...

ONESHOT: The game continued back and forth, but with each minute Macy did nothing but watch as the ball was thrown away from her. It was a large game of monkey in the middle that she somehow volunteered herself for.

ONESHOT: He's bananas for her. She cracks him up. He's nuts for her. Which is why his nuts end up all over the floor on aisle five.

ONESHOT: He believed in miracles, he believed in tomorrow.