#farewell to unicorns

[jolaunay]

A Farewell to Unicorns...

If you have been following me long enough, you probably know that about a year ago I have started a crazy cross-stitch project, see post here . I have posted updates here n there throughout 2023 with the tag #ladyandtheunicornproject . As every crafter & artist would know, when you embark on such a journey, it keeps lingering in the back of your mind every damn day that you don't work on it. I didn't touch it in months, then I finally found the energy to get back to it. This is the progress I made in a year, a little shy of 1.5 pages out of a 60-page pattern:

It just felt hopeless, the amount of confetti in this pattern is insane. And most of the time, it didn't even look like it made much difference. Then it kinda dawned on me; is this pattern the product of a pattern mill?

What it is a "pattern mill" you might ask... Some cross-stitch pattern shops on etsy simply use photos of artwork and convert them to cross-stitch patterns using free websites. They don't credit the artist, they don't pay a dime for the software, yet they profit from their work. The end result usually does not translate well to cross-stitch; lots of confetti, the project is unmanageable, kills the joy of crafting and when you're finished, it looks like a pixelated photo taken with an early 2000s phone camera.

After further research, I was convinced that my pattern is also from a pattern mill - considering the amount of money I spent on this project, it felt like a punch in the gut. My family will never have generational wealth & afford a vacation home on Rhode Island coast because of this fucking project! But hey, c'est la vie! You live and you learn... See related posts here & here

Sometimes, you just gotta know when to say "enough of this bullshit", cut your losses and walk away from a situation. For that reason, there's no point in working on this project anymore and making it my "Sagrada de Familia". So, I came up with an idea to finish it in an alternative way:

"Unfinished paintings are more admired than the finished because the artist's actual thoughts are left visible." This is a quote from Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus, some important guy who lived during the Ancient Roman times. I think it is a fitting quote because it represents my vision of saying "fuck this" and not having the fallacy of the sunk costs. Finished it, framed it and now displaying it in my library room in front of another tapestry from the Unicorn series.

It gives me closure rather than disappointment for a project that I started with such high hopes & excitement. If I just put it in a bag and threw it to the bottom of a closet, it'd make me feel guilty. But this still makes me feel accomplished, because it honors the hours of effort I put into it. It turned into a nice little conversation piece with a story. I still love cross-stitching and will work on better patterns in the future. There's already enough to dread about in life. Unfortunate experiences shouldn't take the joy out of pleasant activities!

[ungurth]

Enki and Irene have their last conversation.

You are a true wizard now, as you always wished. Does it make you happy?

Well, men don’t always know when they’re happy but I- I think so.

And you?

I’m a little afraid to go home. I have been mortal and some part of me is mortal yet.

I’m no longer like the others for no goddess was ever born who could regret. But now, I do.

I regret.

I am sorry, I have done you evil and I cannot undo it.

No.

Peace is in the world again.

No sorrow will live in me as long as that joy.

@cityscarce I did it. I just didn’t animate it.

Xaiver might’ve been more appropriate but I don’t have a design for him yet so I felt lazy. You could say though that it is Irene speaking to Enki in heaven and Enki apologizes for causing the whole thing with Shad. I also had drawn the whole scene but there were more than 10 images and it’d feel weird to do a part 2 just for 3 images of Irene saying goodbye to Enki.

[howaboutsomeschmolly]

I still haven’t written anything about Alan Arkin’s passing. An amazing actor as well as a stunning singer, I would have loved to see a ‘That’s All I’ve Got to Say’ reprise done by Schmendrick with ‘I Could Write A Book’ (click the link if you want to hear it sung by Alan himself and let your mind imagine Schmendrick sing it for Molly).

[thorst]

I have two answers to this because I don't remember which came first. I chose "scary scene from adventure movie" because the Red Bull and the skeleton in The Last Unicorn used to give me nightmares when I was in early primary school, somewhere around 4-6 years old (in 1992-3).

The other one was my dad put his vinyl record of The War of the Worlds on for me to listen to and I remember crawling under the coffee table, terrified that the story was real (?? There's literally songs, this was the musical version), that radio prank got me good too. I was around the same age

Anyway I deeply love both stories to this day, so no real damage done

[arc-misadventures]

A Deal With A Witch

: Well, well, well... What's this? A little boy enters a witches domain? You are either brave, or a fool.

: Hi! My name is, Jaune! Jaune Arcadia! And, I am six years old!

: Jaune A... Arcadia? Oh my... Pray tell, what is a crown prince doing in a witch's hut?

Jaune: I heard that you grant wish's! Is that true?

: To an extent? Do you have a wish you wish to make little prince?

Jaune: I wish when I grow up that I marry a beautiful lady to have as my queen!

: Fufufu~! Is that all that you wish for? Don't you wish for wealth, power, immortality?

Jaune: Well... I'm already a prince, so I have wealth, and power... But, can you really make me immortal?

: I can... I myself am immortal, I am over four hundred years old.

Jaune: You've been that pretty for four hundred years?! Wow....

: Oh that's...?! Oh... You little charmer~!

Jaune: But, I don't want immortality... I want to marry a beautiful lady! Can you make my wish come true?

: In a way... I will not give you a love potion, or anything along those lines. Those potions do not create love, but lust, for more dangerous than love.

Jaune: My mom said the same thing! Mom's still angry about what they did...

: Well, I can read your fortune to tell you who you are fated to be with though.

Jaune: Oh! Do that, do that!

: Very well, I just need a lock of your hair...

Jaune: Ow?!

: An item that you love with all your heart...

Jaune: Will I get, Petty back?

: Do you want to know who you are destined to be with?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Bye, Petty...

: And, compensation in the form of coin for the ingredients that I must...

(Thud!)

: ...

: Use...?

Jaune: Is this enough?

: M-More than enough... H-How do you have so much money on you?

Jaune: Magic pockets~!

: Oh...

: Well then, let's start the spell then... A few fairy flower petals... A drop of moondue... Dust from a soulstone... And, a drop of unicorn blood...

(POOF~!)

Jaune: Ohh... Pretty~!

: Now let's see... Oh? How interesting?

Jaune: What is it, what is it?!

: I see that you have already met the woman you are destined to marry.

Jaune: Really?!

: Throughout the years you will meet again, and a silent love will bloom deep within your hearts...

: She is older than you... but is beautiful, and wiser beyond her years...

Jaune: She will be pretty!

: Around your eighteenth birthday... From the depths of your heart you will know who the woman you love is...

Jaune: Eighteen?! That's centuries away...

: And, upon that day, you will know her name... A name that had not been spoken in an age...

Jaune: I will know her name...

: Hmm... I admit... I've never read such an odd fortune before... Does this please you little prince?

Jaune: Hmmm... Yes! I will see you again pretty witch lady! I'll tell you how things go finding my true love!

: Farewell little prince...

~~~

Jaune: Hello again my pretty witch!

: Hello again, Prince Jaune Arcadia, what can I do for you this time? Do you need another potion for your stomach when you're flying?

Jaune: Nope! I've come here for a totally different reason!

: Oh? What is it?

Jaune: Yesterday was my eighteenth birthday, and I finally found out who my true love is.

: Oh? Congratulations, Jaune. So tell me, who is the lucky lady who has won your heart.

Jaune: She was indeed a lady I had seen many times. At times I saw her because I need her aid, or because I wanted to simply see her, and spend time with her. After time I came to realize that I had feelings for her, but it wasn't until my birthday that I realized that I loved her. It feels silly, I had been in love with this woman for years, and yet I never realized I was in love with her, or that she was in love with me in kind.

: Oh, so it was just as I foretold you?

Jaune: Yeah, the realization felt like someone had hit me in the head with a frying pan. It certainly felt like I deserved one.

: Oh? And, tell me, who is this woman who has captured your heart?

Jaune: You tell me...

Jaune: Willow the White Witch.

Willow: W-What?! I never told anyone my name, how do you know my name?!

Jaune: 'Upon that day, you will know her name. A name that had not been spoken in an age.' It was just as you foretold, my beautiful witch~!

Willow: What...?! My fortune telling was about the two of us...?! T-That's impossible?! I should have know it was talking about me?!

Jaune: You were telling me about my fortune, not yours. So you wouldn't have know.

Willow: B-B-But...?! I-I'm too old for you!

Jaune: You look thirty years old, That may be double my age, but it doesn't mean you are not desirable.

Willow: Desirable?! But, your mother wouldn't allow it!

Jaune: Well... considering your ability to make a certain type of potion, she will accept you with open arms.

Willow: B-B-But...?!

Jaune: Willow... Look at me...

Willow: ...

Jaune: Willow... I don't care about all those things... I care about you, and I want you... For as long as I live I will love you. Will you be mine, my love?

Willow: ...

Willow: Will you be mine as well?

Jaune: Always.

Willow: Mmm~!

Willow: It's been an age that I was given a lovers kiss~!

Jaune: Then I will make sure that you will never forget what my kisses feel like, my Beautiful Witch~!

Willow: I will hold you to that, my Little Prince~!

///

@lar-mx I did it! Willow Witch story is done!

[regressionschool]

little women: dino diapers 

The sunlight streams into the room, casting playful shadows on the pastel walls of the nursery. You hold the envelope in your hand, the official seal glinting in the light, its contents declaring a new chapter for Valerie. Her classification as a Little is now complete, and with it, a delightful transition that she has both dreaded and longed for. "Guess what came in the mail today, Valerie?" you chirp as you enter the room, waving the envelope with a flourish.

Valerie looks up from her plush dinosaur, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she catches the hint of mischief in your eyes. She's seated right in the middle of her play mat, surrounded by soft toys and picture books, dressed in a snug white T-shirt with a cute pink unicorn on it, her diaper peeking out. "Is it... is it my...?" Her words trail off, the anticipation making her fidget with the hem of her shirt.

"Yes, it's official now!" you announce, tearing open the envelope and pulling out the document. "You’re officially a Little. And you know what that means, right?“ Her eyes widen as the realization dawns on her, her lips parting slightly, but no words come out. She simply nods, her hands nervously playing with the edge of her pacifier.

"It means no more pretending to be a big girl," you say as you walk over to her dresser and pull open the bottom drawer, revealing a collection of colorful panties, adorned with playful prints of animals and fruits. "It’s time to say goodbye to these.“ One by one, you hold them up, teasing her gently. "I mean, were these really big girl panties?" you laugh, showing off a pair printed with little elephants. "Or these with the cherries? Pretty sure these are for littles anyway!"

Valerie giggles, covering her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers. The moment is light, her embarrassment mixed with excitement. Then, you reach the back of the drawer, pulling out a few lacy thongs, the only remnants of her previous adult life. "And what about these?" you tease, waggling them before her eyes. Her face turns a deeper shade of red, and a playful spark lights up her eyes.

"Let’s cut these up too, huh?" you suggest, handing her the scissors. With a mischievous grin, Valerie takes the scissors, cutting through the lacy fabric. Each snip is like a ceremonial farewell to her past, and with each piece that falls to the floor, her smile grows wider.

Finally, everything is cut up, the pieces scattered like confetti. You help her up, and she stands in front of you, her eyes shining with joy. She adjusts her diaper and then pops her pacifier back into her mouth, her voice muffled but clear.

"From now on, I wear diapers everywhere," she declares through her pacifier, a declaration of her new start.

[huxhsz]

— weightless paradise

transmigrated non-mc!reader x caleb

prev ch: 27 - farewell┆series masterlist ┆next ch: 29 - uncharted waters

This isn’t how the game was supposed to go. You're not supposed to be here. You're an anomaly. But if you’re already here, then… can’t you just enjoy it for now? Just for a little while? Before the main story begins? Before everything inevitably falls into place? ...Right?

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

CH. 028 — LIFE

The problem with being alone is that there’s nothing to distract you from your thoughts.

You’ve been at Auris University for three weeks now, and the adjustment has been… fine, you guess. The campus is huge, and the professors are serious, but it’s not like you didn’t expect that. You’ve managed to settle into a rhythm, go to classes, make a few friends (though the friendships feel a little shallow, still), and not think too much about the emptiness that lingers in the spaces where Caleb and Eden used to be.

When you’re alone in your dorm room, that’s when it hits the hardest.

The room is quiet except for the soft scratching of your pen on the paper. You lean back in your chair, the weight of your thoughts pressing against your mind, almost too much to handle at times. It's been years—ten, to be exact—but still, the memories of Love and Deepspace cling to you. The tiniest details, the smallest fragments, have stuck in your mind like pieces of a puzzle. You never expected to remember so much, especially since your body was only eight when you arrived here.

Now that you’re away from Caleb and Eden, there’s an odd sense of freedom that comes with being able to write it all down. You no longer have to hide your thoughts, no longer have to worry about them accidentally finding your journal or noticing the way you focus on things that don’t make sense. For years, you kept everything locked inside—afraid that anything you wrote might reveal something about your memories, something that wasn’t supposed to be known. But now, in the quiet privacy of your dorm room, you can finally record the strange fragments that haunt your thoughts without the weight of their watchful eyes. No one’s here to ask questions, no one’s here to pull you back into their world of uncertainty. It feels both like a relief and a betrayal to do this openly. But you know you need to. After all, there’s so much you don’t understand, and the only way to make sense of it is to get it all out.

You pause for a moment, your pen hovering over the paper, and try to sort through your confusion.

How do I remember everything so vividly?

You tilt your head, staring at the page. There’s a disconnect, like some part of you knows things that don’t make sense. Things that shouldn’t be in your head at all. But they are.

You take a deep breath and begin writing, the words flowing without much thought:

Caleb = Subject 002: Destroyer. Evol: Gravity Manipulation.

Codename "Destroyer" wasn't mentioned in the game. That's strange.

Eden/MC = Subject 001: Unicorn. Evol: Resonance. Anhaunsen class.

Memory resets after death.

Me = Subject 000: Omniscient. Evol: Chronosight (past/present/future).

Not mentioned in the game at all.

Josephine:

Part of the Unicorn Team at Gaia Research Center.

Served as a researcher and team leader.

The Chronorift Catastrophe

Happened in 2034

It tore apart everything. Earth wasn’t ready, but it was the Deepspace Tunnel that changed everything.

The catastrophe happened 14 years before the main story.

 

Wanderers

The creatures that came through the Deepspace Tunnel.

Gaia Research Center (GRC)

GRC was where everything began. The experiments, the powers, the tests.

It’s all so broken now, destroyed after the Chronorift Catastrophe. But I know it’s connected to Ever—there’s something dark in the core of that place.

It was a place of science, but not just for research. It was a testing ground for powers, for those who were called “subjects,” like us. But why didn’t the game say anything about that?

GRC researcher defects: Josephine

She left. Took everything with her. But why? Maybe she thought we were ready for something more. Or maybe it was just survival.

Love interests:

Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb, and an unknown LI.

...

You stop for a moment, rereading what you’ve written. Your head hurts a little, like all these details are pushing against your brain, fighting for space. How do you know all of this? How can you remember so much from the game when it feels like a lifetime ago?

It doesn’t make sense.

The game was supposed to be a distraction, an escape. But this? This feels different. You can see the pieces of the game—Love and Deepspace—as if it’s unfolding right in front of you. Every piece of dialogue, every card you collected, every anecdote you read—it’s all there, clear as day.

But then there’s the codename “Destroyer.” You frown. That was never mentioned in the game. You know it was real, but why is it absent from the world the game showed you?

You rub your temples, trying to make sense of it all. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. Maybe it’s the Chronosight—your power—that’s making everything feel too real. Or maybe… you don’t really know what’s going on anymore.

Your grip on the pen tightens.

You’ve always assumed that whatever brought you here—the thing that let you wake up in the Gaia Research Center as Subject 000—was some kind of divine intervention. A god’s twisted gift.

But if that’s true…

Why would a god give you knowledge of a story that was never finished?

You lean back against your chair, arms folded. Outside, the ocean stretches toward the horizon, the water shimmering in shades of blue and silver.

Maybe it wasn’t a god.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to remember any of this at all.

But you do.

And you don’t know why.

Auris is beautiful, in an unsettling kind of way.

The campus overlooks the ocean, the research buildings built from glass and white steel. Holographic banners flicker along the pathways, displaying university announcements and research breakthroughs.

You take the long way to class most days, walking past the observation deck where the water crashes against the cliffs below. The breeze smells like salt and something sharp beneath it—something that makes your skin prickle.

You wonder if you’re imagining it.

Auris wasn’t in the game.

That’s the thing that bothers you most. Auris—this city—this university—it didn’t exist in Love and Deepspace.

The game only ever mentioned Linkon City and Skyhaven. You had entire playthroughs memorized; you’ve read every single piece of text, of dialogue. Auris was never mentioned.

And yet, it’s here.

You lean against the railing of the observation deck, watching the sun slip beneath the horizon. Somewhere beyond that edge of light and water lies the Deepspace Tunnel. The same tunnel that tore open the sky when you were younger. The same tunnel that sent the Wanderers pouring through the rift and destroyed half of Linkon City.

Wind tugs at your hair. Your hand curls loosely around the silver bracelet on your wrist. The apple charm catches the light.

Your phone buzzes.

You glance down.

Caleb how’s class? :D

A slow smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

You type back,

You boring. u’d hate it.

Caleb bet I’d be better at it than you. XD

You shut up.

Caleb miss me yet?

You press your thumb to the charm on your bracelet. The metal is cool beneath your skin.

You type back,

You not really.

The reply comes immediately.

Caleb liar.

You close your phone and breathe out slowly.

Caleb is in Skyhaven. Eden is in Linkon City. You’re in Auris.

Three separate points on the map. Three different paths.

You turn back toward campus. The glass windows of the research building reflect the darkening sky.

Maybe you’re not in the story anymore.

Maybe you’re in something else entirely.

[dhampling]

sylvan gn!reader, 2.8k

THIS IS IT! THE UNICORN FIC! ALSO COINCIDENTALLY A 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION PIECE! THANK YOU!!! based on THIS ask, where a chance series of encounters in youth come together on one night, where everything just clicks for Astarion and his unicorn. this has plagued my brain. this is all i know now. i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it. wc: 2.8k c/w: descriptions of mutilation. fluff. reader WAS a unicorn. yippee.

A bed of burning coals. Belly on a smooth stone slab. 

Low candlelight as Cazador works, each measured smite into the milky flesh of Astarion’s back feels akin to a dull goring; blood a balm of cooling as it spills. 

A mouldering steak.

With each biting shovel of the gouging blade he knows this is a horribly permanent form of disfigurement. 

The pale face in the very periphery of his waning vision, flickering often to look at some tome of reference before conferring with Dufay in frequent sharp whispers. 

He wipes the skin to clear his canvas after each twist of his tool. A searing rag. He can feel the fluff, the grit, as it settles deep into the exposed sticky blazing valleys between his shoulder blades. He feels the birth of rancid infection. The prickle of each and every prick along his tendons that the debris sets alight. 

He knows little else in this moment. 

He knows his limbs are useless in tight leather binds, but that this isn’t a case of reprimand as a flaying or a visit to the kennels may be. He’s been good this month. He hasn’t pushed his luck, nor toed the line. He hasn’t even seen Godey in a four tenday. 

He knows that the gods can’t hear him down here, wherever here is. He was mercifully sedated at one point, but now all that remained were the paralytic properties of whatever was in the chalice presented oh-so-mightily to him at dinner. That his foetid, mortified carcass won’t allow him to howl, or whine, or scream. 

He thinks that he had a similar tool to this when he was young.

He remembers the cool blunt edge in the kitchens and running the tip of his small thumb along it. Feeling it in his pocket, warmed by the heat of his still-breathing body. Sitting in the forest just the other side of the fence with a small wicker basket of apples beside him. Woven blanket underneath linen tunic, woollen overcoat despite the early Kythorn sun; juices running down his little chin as he looked up at the birds singing through the canopy of trees. 

He then remembers his mother’s beckon call, leaving the cores to rot on the peaty floor; seeing the yellowing flesh dotted with twigs and brown leaves, glistening still.

-

“Are you coming?” He whispers sharply, head peering around the yawning mouth of your tent. 

You stretch and roll your wrists, freeing your eyes of sleep with a soft rub.

“Hm?”

Astarion clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. You look at him in a daze. 

He bristles in the post-gloaming purple dusk, your amber candlelight bringing his face warmth as his eyes scan your face. Behind him you can see a tapestry of stars starting to form in the sky. 

His head shakes a little. Claps once. Incredulous.

Oh.

“Overslept.” You mumble. He sighs.

“Gods.’

Pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

‘You have five minutes before I pull you out of this foetid little pit, whatever state you’re in.”

He turns on his heel.

“Is that a threat?” You shout after him.

His head ducks quickly back in.

“A promise. Just so we’re clear.”

A nap in the thulsun heat. A day of rest. Astarion ‘knock, knock’-ing on your tent flap as you read and slinking in like a cat, perching precariously on the chair you use to throw your unwashed armour onto after battle. Several quips about the smell. You threw a pillow at him. Hard. He repostured and continued on breezily.

He’d ‘gotten wind’ of a gathering happening on the beach twenty minutes from camp. Scavengers finishing up at the Nautiloid wreckage throwing some debauched farewell to the Ravaged Beach before some bastardised mercenary force comes in to begin clean up. All the good stuff now gone, but plenty of wine; and, obviously, an opportunity for ‘a little bit of fun’.

He’d blinked at you coquettishly, leaning on the back of the chair, daring you to ask just how he’d gotten wind of such an event. 

It’s rare you’ve bounced off another with such ease since your change. You’re too intelligent for his seduction techniques - the ones you hear him rehearsing quietly to himself from his tent each evening - to work the simple way he intends. That doesn’t mean the pale elf has had no effect on you, however.

You take comfort in knowing exactly how you’ll find him every time you look, and he’ll always be ever so pleased to hear that you have been looking. 

A wink. A flash of those porcelain white fangs. 

An invite to your bedroll for the most sordid of midnight snacks. 

Chatter between friends, an ever-present whiff of flirtation; the quirk of a moonlit lip and the pleasure of mutual relief in the dead of night. 

You fumble around the darkened tent in underwear searching for your discarded camp clothes as his fire-lit silhouette lingers outside.

-

Astarion thinks about the apples from time to time.

Tough, yet yielding. Biting. Sweet flesh bursting in season, ripe and white. Scraps of red skin stuck between hungry teeth. Seeds in their hard little hollows, stalks with small dry leaves. The way the juice ran so freely down his chin in the light of the sun and dampened the back of his hand as he’d wiped it away.

His full wicker basket empty by afternoon. 

Highsun courtyard feasts. He remembers the animals; his mother joking with beaming eyes and a wine-dipped cheer about his ‘druidic potential’ as she held him close, hand on his head, the other on his chest, he stood against her legs as she wittered. Time spent watching for an opportunity to slip through the gate and sit in silence with the birds.

Cazador trenches into his back deeper this time. What Astarion assumes must be blood spatters into his hair with the force of flying blue jay shit, and he’d know. 

He remembers the first time he saw the unicorns in the forest, how bewildered he felt. Startling white in such vivid contrast to the surrounding browns and greens. 

They weren’t skittish like the deer were, nor could they have been ‘lost property’ like the horses who often roamed by. The kobolds were mean to him on more than one occasion and the boars who passed were simple creatures. 

As a decisive yank is made and the gouging tool changes direction, fully embedded in the flesh it tears, he thinks about the smallest one. 

-

Despite being fraught with innuendo and obvious peacocking, Astarion’s company is a reassuring distraction from your current tadpole predicament. A parody of traditional pursuit wrapped in genuine affection. He knows he doesn’t have to bring the bravado, because you’ll play along regardless. 

And this eventide, alongside the fallen Nautiloid; he glows.

Skin soaked in the deep gloaming ambers and yellows of the campfire. Laugh of treacle, like a dozing highsun; a dawn chant on Lathander’s day - he tips his head back in a cotton lull and the quiet threat of his smile brimming through his sharp incisors devastates you. 

You watch on from the open mouth of a scavenger tent astride a pile of pillows and blankets, surrounded in distant light and pilfered goods. A warm breeze carries the firesmoke and to your side is a newfound silver chalice full to the brim with heady Arabellan Dry. 

He looks every part the favourite of the gods. 

Sways gently in his seat. Imbibes generously. Lifts his arms wide in gesticulation with oft-rotating conversational partners and tells stories in hushed tones with the most salacious quirk threatening his brow.

Occasionally throughout your jaunt, you’ll wonder if he should be holding your mind like this. 

Then his eyes meet yours.

Gods.

It feels like they all watch as he moves to you. Adonis in the flesh; effusive as his fingers circle the rim of his glass and he sinks to crossed legs beside you. Face by face. 

“I am so fucking bored.” He mutters. Smiles widely at a passing new acquaintance before sighing a grumble.

“Which one was ‘bored’ again?” You peer mockingly into the crowds, searching with a hand resting atop your tired brow. 

He elbows you. Hard.

“You sound remarkably sour, pet.”

“I’m not sour. I’ve had a beautiful evening” You sip. A gentle breeze rolls over you. 

Astarion lolls his head back a little.

“Beautiful wasn’t really the plan though, was it?”

You turn to him. Narrow your eyes just the smallest bit.  

Astarion tilts back and looks to the sky. He opens his mouth as if to speak. Closes it just as fast.

“What?”

You picture him falling in love with every single one he’d spoken to on the beach this evening; lifting locks of hair around nimbly twirling fingers and pulling another warm body closer. Tilting his head downwards, eyes remaining forward; struggling for words in covetous gasps. Seduction. 

A small laugh. Gods.

“Beautiful. Fucking a stranger in a beach cove isn’t necessarily what I’d call beautiful, dearest.”

“That was your plan?”

“Wasn’t it yours?”

You stop for a good moment. Astarion clicks his tongue in thought. Blinks with the urgency of dripping treacle.

-

Gods. The memory alone would be enough to bring a smile to his face, and he remembers it so very vividly. 

The apples. A baby unicorn. 

One late Elient afternoon, the first time any of them had approached. His fingers stickied with juice. It didn’t appear to be cautious by any discernible means, refusing the peel he’d hesitantly offered far out on the flat of his palm.

Little thing. Just about his size, he thinks; and he was always small. 

He remembers sniffing with a cold and haphazardly wiping his sticky fingers on the front of his coat. Reaching out so it could smell him.

Chewing open-mouthed, eyes closed, smoothing his face with the back of his hand.

They’d fall about together on feeble legs, his flailing arms and gentle nudges. Days on days spent venturing into the forest where it’d be waiting for him in the same clearing as always.

He remembers easing into the apple flesh with the tool edge and gently wiggling it into the crisp white to ensure a deep enough pit. Skimming imperfect rounds of the skin. Bouncing the resulting red spiral between his thumb and forefinger. 

Cazador reaches for the dagger. A hundred-thousand molten pins.

-

The moon overhead. Unwavering in clarity. It almost feels like you’re on the precipice of a different world. 

“You’re weird, you know.’ Astarion breaks his silence. The revellers continue to drink, to dance and talk clumsily around you.

Your eyes meet his. He wavers on the edge of certainty, but the performative lowering of his lids shows you he isn’t too sure. There’s a front to the nonchalance. 

‘What are you?”

“Hm?”

“Fun. I said there’d be fun. You aren’t partaking.’ He takes a sip and swills it around his mouth whilst collecting his thoughts. The dossier. Racking through pages in his brain.

‘I can’t be completely sure, but I’ve met a lot of humans in my life. Seduced them. Given and taken like a market teller.’

His hands move as he speaks, a considered pattern of gesticulation. 

‘And you simply… you’re above it all. You don’t even smell human. What are you?”

There it is. If you weren’t inebriated you’d be tempted to laugh him off. 

Tonight, however; your bones are thoroughly wine-sodden. 

Your companion has a twinkle in his eye. A beach of prospective lovers and he has collapsed at your side in respite. If he persecutes you as they would then you’ll die with his face the last thing you see. It doesn’t feel like a bad compromise.

“Not human.” You confirm, looking at your fingernails with a pert nod.

He laughs in a slight of vindication. 

“Try me.” 

“Sylvan.”

You can’t be sure if it’s from embarrassment or underlying fear that your head falls into your sweaty hands. Astarion’s snide streak plays at the fray of your mind.

“What? Half wood-elf or something?” 

He sips. 

“Unicorn.” You lift your fingers and flutter them around the sides of your head meekly. 

Splutters. 

“Explains why there are none roaming the actual woods anymore, I suppose.”

He’s taken it surprisingly well, all things considered. You aren’t sure what you’d expected. A minute of silence. The lazy roll of waves along the shore.

“What do I smell like?”

Maybe he’s wary of the driftwood stake near your hand. 

“Apples. People don’t smell like apples. Usually sweat. Or perfume.’ He runs his tongue over his teeth and sniffs. 

‘Not apples. I should’ve -”

Apples. A softness in the way he says it, you note. Favoured fruit in the allotments running the edge of the forests.

‘I’ve not had an apple in so long.”

He finishes with a wistful smile, topping off the wine in hand and refilling it with a swift glug. 

“Do you miss them?” 

“Apples? I-’

The cogs turn slowly - he wets his bottom lip and looks to the sky once more. His brow furrows as you watch him think.  

‘I used to sit in the forest, just around the back of the garden wall. I was about- I’d have been about up to here?’ He lifts his arm to just above where his sitting head rests.

‘I was tiny. All day long. Peeling the skin, gnawing away. Ironic.”

Pauses as if in remembrance of something. Grimaces.

You smile fondly and reach for his arm. You’re willing to entertain the line of dialogue. It distracts from the situation and he seems open to indulging in it.

“Funny.”

He scoffs and taps your hand softly before taking it in his. Cool fingers lock around yours. 

“How so?” 

“Gods, a long time ago now - there was a boy I met who did the same thing. Fascinated by them. Would sit and peel them with a little tool. Strange thing.”

You take a sip as you imitate the focus of the young thing, pretending to work tunnels into the cooling air with your near-empty chalice.

Astarion whips his head to face yours.

“Two hundred years ago?” 

“Why?’

He’s watching you as if you’re holding something very fragile in your faux-gouging fingers.

‘I suppose so? Round about then. Bit longer, maybe two hundred and th-”

“Me. It was me.”

Your eyes meet.

It’s the kind of moment you’ve read about in your downtime, the way the clock stops. Everything feels silent. The sea stops rolling soft on the shore, the voices around you are naught above a whisper; the glass in the hand not clutching yours set firmly on the sand as he shuffles to face you head on.

Apples. 

You watch his eyes soften wholly. Not a single ounce of guard; no sense of hesitation. Two glimmering rubies in the moonlight.

“His eyes weren’t red.” You smile.

It takes a moment for him to react. He’s studying your face reverently, with newfound interest; mapping each of the lines and blemishes with a hand hovering over your cheek. 

And then he laughs. The most beautiful sound in all the realms, melodic. 

“They weren’t.’

He points to the scarred fang marks above his sagging collar.

‘I was also alive at that point.’

Astarion takes a few comfortable minutes to look at you as he strokes over your hand with his thumb. You’ve spent enough of the past few weeks looking over him to know him almost by heart but you’ll indulge with the context of the revelation before you. 

“Look at us now, then.” 

Your voice cracks. You didn’t realise the sheer size of the lump in your throat.

“I -’

He presses his free hand to your cheek as he did when you were both young. Soft. Jowls ablaze at his wine-sticky touch. 

The sincerity in his gaze is brutal. If you weren’t so deeply enamoured you might just vomit.

‘The longest night of my life, I thought of you. The apples. How -’

Astarion takes a moment to survey you. You obviously look nothing like you did back then, aside from the brightest eyes he’s ever seen in all two hundred and thirty nine years of life and the same softness in how they revere him. 

‘How you never came back. I waited.’

It’s then that you crumble. 

‘How happy I knew I’d be when you did return.”

It’s cataclysmic, the way he talks. The last person who was kind to you and he thought you’d left him by choice this whole time. Remembering you in his darkest moments. All you’ve both suffered and here you are, on this rancid beach in the middle of nowhere; your hand safe in his.

“It wasn’t by choice. Never.”

The look on his face suggests he’s toying with the idea of playing the fair maiden, but he sees the way you crack and almost takes to tears himself.

“Well. You’re here now, and we have a lot of lost time to make up for. It helps that I was already fond of you, of course.”

He brushes the hair from your face and plants a deep kiss on your forehead as you bring your arms around his waist, hesitantly.

It’s a start. 

One you’d never have seen coming when waking aboard the crashed nautiloid in front of you; but glorious nonetheless.

[daily-emunene-vitamins]

EmuNene Vitamin - Day 49

today's vitamin is the creator's festa !! i love their outfits... sfjdksfds they're from rui's farewell at the curtain call event !! (i think)

i was playing genshin and left it alone for a while and it was night there and when i went back to check on it it was daytime and it felt like a whole day had passed irl even though only a few minutes had..

[bitter-caf]

I've been having thoughts, so here's some The Last Unicorn quotes as Dbd characters. I hope someone else can also see the vision.

------

(This one especially I've been thinking about for a while)

Monty: I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, although I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn (crow) was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret.

(For monty especially, I feel as fic idea coming on just based on this quote)

Also Monty: From that first moment of doubt, there was no peace for her; from the time she first imagined leaving her forest (birdcage), she could not stand in one place without wanting to be somewhere else...Unicorns (Crows) are not meant to make choices. She said no, and yes, and no again, day and night, and for the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms.

Cat King: I am what I am. I would tell you what you want to know if I could, for you have been kind to me. But I am a cat, and no cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer.

Charles: Take me with you. For laughs, for luck, for the unknown. Take me with you.

Also Charles: I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me.

Edwin: I will keep the colour of your eyes until no other in the world remembers your name.

Also Edwin: The moon was gone, but to the magician's eyes the unicorn (Charles) was the moon...lighting his way to safety, or to madness.

Crystal: We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream.

Also Crystal lol: You pile of stones, you waste, you desolation, I'll stuff you with misery till it comes out of your eyes. I'll change your heart into green grass, and all you love into a sheep. I'll turn you into a bad poet with dreams.

Niko: Farewell,' she said. 'I hope you hear many more songs' - which was the best way she could think of to say good-bye to a butterfly.

Also Niko: As for you and your heart and the things you said and didn't say, she will remember them all when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits.

Night Nurse: I did not know that I was so empty, to be so full.

-------

Can you tell I love the last unicorn?

[yakool-foolio]

Alexa, play Only As Good As My God by Everything Everything. It's scenic for the downfall of Stronghart, as a song about police brutality also fits the mastermind behind the killing of many nobles and criminals who claims it's all in the name of justice. The horse imagery in this song aligns with Stronghart having unicorn motifs in his design. Funny how a symbol of purity and innocence is also a symbol of power and Stronghart took that from 0 to 100.

Van Zieks can you please roundhouse kick Stronghart for me? He's right next to you. Take the shot.

Sholmes: Well, back to my home planet. Beam me up, Iris!

The prosecutors have forgiven each other at last. Damn, Mikotoba saved the life of Klint's daughter, but the mother sadly passed. Van Zieks was completely left outta the know, but since the family name was tarnished, she was kept hidden for her safety.

WAIT.

SHOLMES TOOK CARE OF THE CHILD YOU SAY?

IRIS IS THE DAUGHTER OF KLINT?! SO SHE'S BAROK'S NIECE?!

Oh this is so funny to me cause I've been imagining Iris as Apollo's ancestor because of her deductive abilities taught by Sholmes (so Apollo would also technically be related to Sholmes teehee), but now that Klint is confirmed to be Iris' father... that would mean Apollo is distantly related to Edgeworth in my hypothetical family tree and that's wild.

Aw man, Van Zieks is resigning. NEVERMIND KAZUMA COMING IN CLUTCH TO CHANGE HIS MIND!

Sholmes n Mikotoba are so fuckin' cute dude I love their dynamic so much. Ay we got the pocketwatch back for Gina! A perfect memento mori!

This sentence aged like milk left out in the scorching sun before Gina even opened her mouth.

Iris is happy with her adoptive dad Sholmes, and him n Mikotoba continue to be extremely cute. All is right with the world.

Ryunosuke has made up his mind to return to Britain as a defense lawyer. I hope he'll visit his friends here when he can. SHOLMES N MIKOTOBA HAVE TO SEPARATE AGAIN NOOOOOOOOO

:00000000000 KAZUMA'S HERE TO SAY FAREWELL AUGHHHHHHHHH AND HE'S STAYING AS A PROSECUTOR HELL YEAH DUDE! OHHHHHH MY GOD HE'S ENTRUSTING KARUMA--HIS SOUL--TO RYNOSUKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM CRYING MAN YOU GO KAZUMA SLAY YOUR DEMONS I BELIEVE IN YOU!

Aww yippee Susato's staying with Ryunosuke! Kazuma and Ryunosuke promise to duel each other in court someday! En garde!

OH MY GOD SOSEKI COVERED IN KITTENS WITH REI AND HOSONAGA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THIS IS THE B TEAM I NEED!

MY HEART... I LOVE THEM... WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

AWWWWWW SHOLMES N MIKOTOBA ARE DANCING TOGETHER YAYYYYYYYY

My babies <3

MY BABIES <3 X2

And that concludes The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles! This was an incredible duology that will stick with me for a long time. As much as the first game's cases may not have been as much to my fancy, the characters immediately hooked me in and the second game made it all worthwhile. The pins were set and knocked down in a fantastical fashion! TGAA2 might've actually surpassed Dual Destinies as my favorite Ace game, which is a tough height to reach! The Phantom is still my favorite culprit though, so don't worry no one's gonna steal his title heheh.

And with the story of the ancestors at an end (for now, please Capcom make a Van Zieks Investigation game with Kazuma as his assistant I beg you it's what I crave), it's time to go investigate some men with Edgeworth! Starting tomorrow! Perhaps I could write up my live reactions for this newly remastered duology, too, hmm... I'll let future Neo decide!

(To The One Who Saw This Escapade Through To Its End, And Whom I Welcome All Ramblings From - @raymondshields)

[transman-badass]

Badly Summarized WIPs Poll

Tagged By: Like three people on as many blogs but I didn't have the energy to do it until now, sorry y'all

Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they’d be most likely to read. Multiple/all/none options are completely optional.

Let'sa go!

In order for the curious: Untitled Gay Short Story Collection 1; "Hollywood's Prince" [working title, Runner Owen au erotica]; Untitled Cthulhu Mythos/PSI Short Story Collection; Farewell Vesperos, book 1 in the Runner Owen series; Untitled Book 1 in PSI series; Lionheart

Tagging... @lockejhaven @writeintrees @forthesanityofstorytellers @governmentintelligence @dyrewrites @angelofthemornings @tousled-birdmad-girl @wintherlywords @rookfeatherrambles and anyone else who wants to do this! I just tagged a bunch of people on my activity page tbh

Reblogs adored ngl

[wildsparrows]

Lonnie and Zacker Side Story: Part 2

Asahan Mo At Malalim...

(Icanexplainwhythisnameisbad helped me with this! Part of the @decadeofjoy-au)

Alon Habagat-DeadZoneDenizen

Maury Serge-TDOJ(Mentioned)

Mr. Shortcake-TDOJ(Brief Appearance)

Icarus Tank-TDOJ(Mentioned)

Zacker-icanexplainwhythisnameisbad

Vile-Icanexplainwhythisnameisbad(Mentioned)

Beartrap Bernie-Icanexplainwhythisnameisbad(Mentioned)

Calvin Construt-a-bot-just-a-freak40(Mentioned)

Hoppy Hopscotch-Canon(Brief Appearance)

Craftycorn-Canon

Dr. Bruno White-Canon

Ms. Brooks-Canon

Samuel Lee-Canon(mentioned)

The ride back to Playcare was mostly silent. Less orphans and more toys this time. Hoppy was restlessly bouncing her leg and Mr. Shortcake was repeatedly squeezing his arm as some sort of stress relief. Lonnie couldn’t help but think. 

Maury? Adopted? Something about this just felt so…sudden. Putting his headphones on, he listened not to a song, but to an audio. One he transferred from a VHS tape he stole from one of his ‘sleepwalks’.

The audio started with children celebrating in the background. Two adult voices spoke amongst themselves as the background noise continued.

“Ah, and here they all are.” One of the voices, a more masculine one, spoke. 

Answering him was the other voice, a more feminine one.

“Well of course, they’d never miss this!”

Two children then seemingly approached them, as two younger voices erupted in excitement.

"Who is it, Ms. Brooks? Who's going away?"

"Tell us! Tell us!"

Ms. Brooks then shushed them in the audio. "This week, Dr. White here has selected our very own Samuel Lee!"

The children in the audio then erupted into cheers, presumably congratulating this Samuel Lee kid. The caretaker, Ms. Brooks, then spoke up to get their attention.

"Now, before he goes, let's all give Sam one last goodbye, shall we? With me. One... Two... Three!"

"Goodbye, Sam!" A chorus of voices farewelled, and the audio ended.

Lonnie sighed, taking his headphones off. Apparently there actually used to be human workers here, if the names are anything to go off of. But what stuck out to him is that the caretakers would actually inform the other orphans beforehand if one of them’s getting adopted. He and the others? They were given no such announcement.

One exit from the Train Station, he then stopped in front of the Playtime Express. One thing that always struck as odd to him was why the letters of the word Playtime seemed to have fresher paint, compared to the flaking yellow of the word Express. Did the ride used to have a different name?

Saving that thought for another time, he boarded the cable car and made his way back to Home Sweet Home. Well- not without bumping into Craftycorn.

Maury’s textbook fell on the floor, and drawings flew and scattered about. The two immediately knelt down to gather the things, Lonnie even helping Crafty with getting the scattered drawings back. Once he managed to put them in an organized stack, he stood up with the textbook and handed the stack back to the plush unicorn.

“Oh god, I-I am so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going!” Lonnie scolded himself, to which Crafty just waved her hoof to calm him down.

“No, no, I wasn’t watching either!” She admitted, thanking him as he handed the stack and added it to her own. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’ve just been a bit more scatterbrained recently.”

“No, I get it!” Lonnie faked an assuring smile. “Anyone would be tense after that scream. Say…”

He tilted his head.

“What was that about…?”

“Erm-” Crafty laughed nervously, unconsciously holding the stack of drawings tighter. Shoot- what was the excuse they used again? “It was just some acting from the theater!” She quickly blurted out, opting for Vile’s explanation instead. “Y-Yeah, it’s for a future play, I think?”

“It is?” Lonnie asked further, knowing for sure that wasn’t the case. “I wasn’t told. I should ask Vile and Calvin if I need to start practicing for any background music I need to play.” He paused for a minute, before asking another question.

“By the way, do you know where Maury is?”

Crafty then froze. After all, it was only a while ago that she directed Maury to the room where he…She snapped herself out of her thoughts, before thinking of another lie.

“Well, he aged out…” She spat out the first lie she could think of. “He turned eighteen today, so we had no choice but to let him leave…”

Yeah, no, Lonnie was definitely being lied to. Was he adopted, or did he age out? Pick one. He couldn’t have been both. There was this inconsistency that Lonnie would’ve guessed became more evident thanks to the increased stress from the screams that the toys seemed to be actively lying about. It seems it was that tension that put them all on edge and made them less…convincing.

“Oh…that’s a shame…” Lonnie sighed, then walked past the plush unicorn. “I guess I’ll just leave his textbook in his room.”

“Of course!” Crafty smiled. Well, not like she could move her face in any other way. She was just glad that Lonnie seemingly bought her lie, as she went her own way.

Swinging Maury’s door open, Lonnie finds…his belongings all still being there. Things that he wouldn’t leave without, he was sure of it. 

Everything looks completely untouched from when Maury was still here. Lonnie was sure of that, because the guy asked him to help with his homework the day before.

Something wasn’t just off, something else was completely afoot here…

Opening the textbook and taking a quick snap on one of the pages, he left said textbook on the desk and left the room. One walk later, he arrived in his and closed the door, sitting on his bed and turning his laptop on. 

Turning his jammer on and flexing his fingers, he began typing and scrolling, letting time pass before finally getting access into Playcare’s database. Adopted or aged out, there should be a file out there for Maury’s circumstances. 

Somewhere here, in either the list of transition plans or the list of guardianship documents. Lonnie scrolled, every former orphan’s documents from both lists. And yet…

Maury's document wasn’t anywhere.

Now, come to think of it, neither was this Samuel kid. But he could at least excuse that for the factory not having that kind of technology yet.

Regardless, something happened to Maury.

Something happened to Maury, and the toys know...

They know...and they're lying about it.

...

What else are they hiding..?

Meanwhile, just outside the room, in the hallways. The mayhem from earlier left the small robot no less stressed than the other caretakers. Sounds of footsteps meet the cotton carpet, with Zacker just glad that everything's taken care of.

Distracting himself from Icarus’ earlier scoldings about how he repairs the computers, he hummed a tune from a game he heard of, once upon a time. Pshh- Not doing it right? Please, what does Icarus even know about computers? He couldn’t even tell the difference between a keylogging device and a regular charger. Then again- he’s not complaining.

Passing by each orphan’s doors, he stopped in front of one in particular. Painted in navy and with a decorative green fishing net on top, he saw his reflection through the golden glint of the doorknob. That kid…Ever since that kid with those fish-pants showed up, Zacker’s been having this little speech interruption problem. It’s either the random phrases interrupting him mid-talking, or just absolute ear-grating static.

‘I really hate that bear trap…’ He thought.

Shaking the thoughts away, he continued to hum and was about to walk past the door. Instead, his humming was once again interrupted by a sudden “[FREE SPY THRILLER MOVIE NO VIRUS-]”

He halted with wide eyes. “WHAT?! AGAIN?!” He made haste farther from the door as he gripped his fists. “Seriously, where is that coming from?!-” Zacker blurted out. Then he stopped, making a heel-turn and fixating his eyes on that navy door. That’s it, he was getting to the bottom of this!

The sudden louder footsteps didn’t fall on deaf ears either. Lonnie paused his typing with his own eyes focused on the turning doorknob. He knew whose voice that belonged to. There was only one toy who had that speech problem. Snapping the laptop shut, he stood up and acted quickly.

Swinging the door open, Zacker expected to find Lonnie lounging on his bed. But what greeted him instead was an empty pitch black room, devoid of any life. Cautiously walking into the room, Zacker looked in both directions, then back at the door at the sudden sound of it shutting and locking.

With no light from the hallways to illuminate his vision, his eyes automatically casted a faint white glow. A slight creak from the hammock chair made him turn to look there, except there was nothing but a cushion and a plush toy. The faint glow didn’t help with the already ominous atmosphere, further amplified by the subtle ticking of the clock and the soft blow of the air conditioner.

“Geez kid, I know you’re here.” Zacker snarked, expecting this sort of stunt from another toy or experiment, and not an orphan. “No need for all this theatrics.”

“And I believe this belongs to you.”

Zacker shone the faint beam of light at the mirror, revealing the owner of the voice. Lonnie sat on his bed, holding a keylogging device between two fingers. The toy jolted back, shocked at how the hell the kid got his hands on one of his devices.

“...And you know that, how?” Zacker held back a snarl.

“It was you that Icarus was complaining about when he was repairing those computers, y’know?” Lonnie remarked slyly, his voice taking a slightly deeper tone than his seemingly peppy one. “And look at all these keyloggers I keep finding while helping him.”

“Don’t worry.” Lonnie then smirked, tossing the keylogger for Zacker to catch. “I didn’t tell him.”

Zacker caught the keylogger effortlessly, staring at it in his hands then staring back at the orphan.

“...What do you want?”

Lonnie’s smirk fell into a more serious frown.

“Answers.”

[tired-truffle]

Something's Gotta Give

A CullenxLavellan fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.4k

Part 60: Love, in Fire and in Blood

"No daughters, only soldiers." - Unknown

Tag list: @thomrainierapologist (If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know!)

Masterlist

The ground rocked beneath their feet, and a sudden, eerie flash of vibrant green cut through the thick, grey clouds. Sweetpea’s back arched, her fur standing on end as she glared out into the distance. Ash staggered, catching herself on the battlements, her gaze pulled past the mountains as horror settled in her stomach like a heavy stone. The Breach had been reopened. Corypheus had made his final play.

Skyhold sprang into action.

The war horns blared, and the council gathered while the inner circle prepared themselves for the impending confrontation at the front line. Ash, clad in her chest plate, her staff tightly gripped in one hand and a scroll tucked securely at her side, took a deep, steadying breath. She could do this. She’d survived once before, surely, she could survive a second time. She had to, there was no other choice. To give up everything she’d worked so hard for, for the peace and love she’d painstakingly carved out of the bedrock of life, was unconscionable.

The inner circle congregated at the main gate, their horses prepared and ready for the journey to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

If fortune favoured them with clear skies and swift winds, they could reach their destination in a day. A single day until they reached the final battle, until Ash stood against the Archdemon.

Rae led her advisors to meet her companions, her face set in a stern grimace, shoulders back, daggers ready at her hips. Head held high, she embodied her title as Inquisitor perfectly. Yet, beneath Ash's calm exterior, her stomach roiled with unease. When the Inquisitor's role was fulfilled, would there be anything left of her dear sister?

Cullen caught her gaze as Cassandra passed Rae the reigns of her beloved bog unicorn, his lips twisted in a grave frown, his brow furrowed and the skin around his eyes tight. Would this be the last time she saw him? There, in front of their friends and the gathering residents of Skyhold, would they say their final goodbye?

Hands clenching into fists at her sides, Ash steeled herself. This was not a farewell, she told herself, but merely a ‘see you soon.’ She wanted that future he spoke of, the small house by a lake, family surrounding them, peace. She wouldn’t let Corypheus take that from her.

“We won’t be stopping until we reach the Breach.” Rae’s voice carried over the crowd. “The bulk of our forces will not arrive in time; it falls upon us to defeat Corypheus once and for all. He is weakened, his plans thwarted at every turn by our hands, and now we stand equipped with every tool necessary to vanquish him and his Archdemon.”

Rae glanced at Ash, a flash of fear in her eyes, barely noticeable had she not known what to look for. “We depart in five minutes. Prepare yourself. All of you will return alive. That’s an order.”

A chorus of ‘yes, Inquisitor’ rippled through their group. Rae’s eyes flickered to Solas, the apostate’s gaze watching her with an indiscernible intent. Rae scoffed low under her breath and turned away, she didn’t have time to waste on her feelings. They had an ancient Magister to kill.

The party moved, finalizing the last of their preparations. Cullen stepped towards her, and Ash met him in the middle. What did one say to their lover as they departed to confront a deadly threat? A simple ‘good luck’ seemed too casual, and anything more at risk for jinxing their luck.

Sweetpea let out a soft, insistent meow from where she sat by Ash's feet. Ash bent down and gently scooped her up, cradling her in her arms. As she stroked Sweetpea's fluffy head and scratched behind her ears, the cat's eyes widened, round and glistening like polished marbles. Sweetpea tilted her head slightly, her gaze full of curiosity and affection, searching Ash's face.

“Sorry, Pea. You can’t come with me this time,” she said quietly, but loud enough that Cullen could hear. “Keep Cullen company for me, will you?”

After so long in each other’s company, Ash had become adept at deciphering every subtle meow and pointed look from Sweetpea. Her cat meowed affirmatively, pawing at Ash’s nose as if to say that she had better return soon. Ash smiled and placed a kiss atop her soft head. Parting from Sweetpea felt like ripping her soul in half, one to face the Archdemon, the other to wind itself around Cullen’s legs and leave dead mice on his desk when he wouldn’t eat. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. But she had to, she couldn’t bring Sweetpea with her unless she wanted a charred cat.

Before she could ruminate on it any further, Ash thrust Sweetpea at Cullen, her little grey body dangling from where Ash had her under the armpits. “Keep her safe for me while I’m gone? She will keep you company until I return.”

“Of course.” With a tender smile that warmed the ice around her heart, Cullen accepted the cat into his arms, letting her nestle in his mantle, her big eyes peering out at Ash. “We will greet you at the gates when you return triumphant.”

Ash wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more; her, himself, or Sweetpea, but she appreciated his words of affirmation all the same. They stood there, at the precipice of the end, the distance between them feeling insurmountable. If she held him now, she’d never want to let go.

When had she started shaking?

Rae’s whistle broke them out of their trance, her sister whooping loudly as their party gathered. Ash glanced toward her sister and back at Cullen, and in that split second threw all caution to the wind.

The kiss was far too quick, too chaste, and though one hand came to grip her hip, his other arm was occupied by a furry bundle that resented being squished. The scar on his lip pressed against her, and she committed it all to memory - as she had a thousand times before. The taste of his elderflower tea, the stubble that scratched her chin, the way his fingers gripped her hard enough to bruise. Despite how restrained the kiss was, only she knew how deeply affected he felt.

She pulled back and brushed her hand across his cheek. “Our victory celebration will be much less tame, vhenan,” she said with a grin that crinkled the skin of her nose.

Dropping her hand, Ash stepped back, Cullen swaying as if to follow, but he caught himself. “Be safe, Ashvalla.”

With one last loving look, Ash turned, mounting her horse and joining the party as they left the safety of Skyhold, and rode towards their deaths.

Their horses gradually slowed to a cautious trot as they approached the green vortex that swirled above the crumbling ruins of the ancient temple. Soon, they would have to dismount and leave their steeds with the pages who’d accompanied them, the animals too jittery to get up close. Ash rode beside Dorian, the two friends sharing an uncharacteristically silence. Until she broke the charged quiet.

“Dorian,” she began, biting her bottom lip as the Altus mage turned towards her, “we still don’t entirely know what this spell will do to me, and while I hope it doesn’t have any…lasting consequences, it would be naive of me not to consider the likelihood that it will require some sort of sacrifice.” She took a deep breath, her heart fluttering in her throat like a caged bird. “If I don’t make it…Rae will manage; she’s strong and she has Sera, but Cullen…will you promise to look after him for me? Make sure he's alright, that he finds his way?"

“No.”

Ash blinked rapidly, the single-syllable word rattling in her ears.

“What?” She shot Dorian an incredulous look, but he simply lifted his chin.

“I said no, my dear. I will not entertain the ridiculous notion that you will not survive. You can't just waltz into my life, become my closest friend, and then expect me to go on in the world without you. That's not how this works,” Dorian said tartly, his shoulders stiff. “You must live. You cannot use me as an excuse to sacrifice yourself. And the Inquisitor would box your ears for suggesting she would be fine without you.”

Ash’s mouth fell open, disbelief raising her eyebrows. “I…” Lost for words, she shut her mouth with the click of her teeth.

Dorian sighed wearily, sympathy glinting in his dark eyes. “I am his friend, too, I will be there to support him if needed,” he said with patient gentleness. “But I can’t replace you. You need to look after him yourself. Besides, he bid me to bring you back alive, and I plan to follow through on that request.”

Oh. Ash supposed she should have expected as much, but to know Cullen had asked that of Dorian both warmed her heart and chaffed at her pride. Love nestled behind her ribs, pleased.

“Then I will endeavour to make your task easy,” Ash said, shaking off the gloom that had taken over her.

Dorian laughed, lacking its usual rich depth, but good-natured nonetheless. “Liar.”

They left their horses with the stewards minutes later, and began the trek to the temple on foot.

No one spoke. The gravity of what they marched toward weighed heavily on their minds. Would fate be kind and grant them victory, or would this be their final gathering? Solas watched Rae as she strode at the head of the party. While Ash's heart clenched at the thought of the imminent battle with the Archdemon - knowing it would demand every ounce of her focus and effort, leaving Rae without her protection - it settled a piece of her soul to know that Solas would be at Rae’s side. Whatever his mysterious reasons for ending their relationship, it was not for a lack of love. That was clear in the way his eyes shone, how even now he gravitated towards subconsciously.

Red lyrium spikes glowed an eerie red over their approach, the sounds of shrieking demons and the cries of their scouts ahead quickening their steps. Cassandra arrived first, gutting a demon on her long sword and glaring up at the foe who stared them down.

Corypheus stood on the ruins, his lips curled in a snarl at the sight of Rae and her companions. He was just as ugly as ever, and Ash resisted the urge to gag.

“I knew you would come,” he said, his voice low and filled with malice, accompanied by a mocking bow.

Rae was tired, the dark circles under her eyes sharpening the anger in her gaze as it fixed on the source of all their problems. “This ends here, Corypheus.”

Sparking red magic crackled over his fingers. “And so it shall,” he replied before thrusting his hands into the air.

The ground beneath their feet shook, but unlike in Skyhold, it didn’t cease. Rock breaking from dirt and roots torn overwhelmed her senses, and Ash was knocked off balance as wind whipped around them. Had it not been for her staff, she would have fallen flat on her face. Embarrassing in front of friends, let alone the man they had been sent to kill.

They lifted higher and higher into the sky. A warning trickled in the back of her mind. The voices from the Well, foreboding and the heat of ancient fire burned in her ears. Ash’s stomach sank to her feet, bile rising in the back of her throat, and her burns itching. The Archdemon had nearly killed her, disfiguring her permanently, and then it had nearly stolen her sister from her, left Rae to fall to her death. It had been lucky those times, Ash had been unprepared. Now, she swallowed her fear, gritting her teeth as she pulled the scroll from her belt. The wretched creature wouldn’t survive its third encounter with her, she would ensure it met a grizzly fate.

Corypheus spoke, throwing vitriolic hate at her sister, but Ash wasn’t listening. She used his ego, his need for flowery speeches to her advantage, and hid behind Iron Bull's bulk as she unfurled the scroll and began to read.

The ancient Elvhen script pulsed before her eyes, each glyph shifting from indecipherable to crystal clear understanding. Ash's lips moved, forming sounds she'd never spoken yet somehow knew intimately, as if they'd been sleeping in her bones since birth. The voices of the Well swelled within her mind, no longer a whisper but a resounding scream that guided her tongue.

Heat bloomed in her chest, surging through her veins like liquid fire. The magic felt different - wild, primal. This was older, raw.

A shadow passed overhead.

Instinct seized her. Ash's hands thrust skyward, the scroll burning to ash between her fingers as the spell manifested. Flames erupted from her palms, converging into the massive form of a dragon, its fiery wings spanning wide and powerful. The construct roared just as the Archdemon dove toward them, jaws wide and ready to devour.

The two dragons collided in a battle of screeches and flame. The Archdemon tumbled sideways, its trajectory shattered, wings flapping as it desperately tried to right itself.

“You dare. You will pay for your insolence, girl.” Corypheus fixed his beady eyes on Ash, but she paid him little mind. He wasn’t hers to fight.

“Go!” Ash yelled to Rae as her sister readied herself to fight. “You focus on Corypheus, I’ve got this!”

From the pursing of her lips and the downward tilt of her ears, Rae knew that Ash was correct. But to leave her sister behind to battle the creature that had almost killed her took more willpower than she’d anticipated.

“Ashvalla is correct, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said as Corypheus roared his rage.

Rae growled, her eyes alight with righteous anger. “Bull, Dorian.” She addressed the two men. “Stay with Ash, watch her back while she does…whatever it is she needs to.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ash protested, but Rae was already jogging away, the rest of the party following in her tracks.

“That’s an order!” Rae called over her shoulder, daggers drawn as she charged her enemy. “Kill it and get to safety!”

The sounds of her dragon of flames came from below, and Ash ran to the edge of the platform, peering out into the vast expanse of sky stretching between them and the distant ground. Her stomach flopped and nearly emptied itself.

“You heard the Boss,” Bull twirled the greatsword in his hand, “let’s kill this fucker.”

“I’m afraid we may be preoccupied with other enemies, Amatus,” Dorian pulled Bull’s attention, pointing to the horde of twisted demons hurtling toward them, screeching their bloodlust.

The first of the demons landed with a wet crunch, its scythe-like arms angled straight for Ash’s heart. Iron Bull met it midair, his sword cleaving through limbs and embedding in its thick skull. They had her back, just as instructed, and she had a mission to accomplish.

Ash’s focus snapped back to her creation. The fire dragon and the Archdemon tore through the sky like a meteor shower, careening and clawing, their shrieks echoing across the ruined temple. She could feel her construct, could sense every slashing talon and bout of flame, each move an extension of her will. It was glorious, addicting, a taste of what ancient mages must have felt when they cracked the world open with their ambition. She wanted to laugh, or scream, or both. Possibly even cry.

But it was also eating her alive.

Every second the construct existed, it drank from her - her mana first, but then her heat, her pulse, the marrow in her bones. Her hands trembled with cold, her forearms prickled with numbness and pain. She watched as her fingertips darkened from pink to purple-black, the veins beneath her skin standing out like rivers of ink. The fire dragon’s next swipe cost her feeling in three of her fingers; she almost dropped her staff.

She clenched her jaw. It was worth it. It had to be.

The Archdemon, wings battered and scorched, reeled from a glancing hit. It recovered midflight, spiralling upwards until it hovered above the temple. The green light of the Breach backlit its silhouette, a tainted star given form.

Ash’s vision doubled. The voices of the Well were louder now, shrill and urgent, but she drowned them out with the force of her own will. She flung her staff up, pouring every last scrap of energy into her dragon. It streaked after the Archdemon, jaws stretching wide. The fire dragon latched onto the Archdemon’s throat.

The Archdemon screeched, clawing at the flames, but the construct held, slamming the thrashing creature into the ground and kicking up clouds of dust and debris. Ash could feel its triumph, its hunger, the way it wanted to consume and never stop—

No. Not hunger. Her own desperation. To protect Rae, to see Cullen again, to finish what she had started. She was the fire; it was only a mirror.

Pain radiated up her thighs and into her hips as her knees hit the ground hard. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath that wouldn’t come. Pins and needles pricked at her blackened fingers, and her vision was rocked by dizziness. Sweat bedded down her temple, and exhaustion tugged at her mind.

The Archdemon threw her construct from its neck with a deafening roar.

The blasted creature still wasn’t fucking dead, and Ash wasn’t sure how much she had left in her. Would it kill her first, or would they die together?

“Ashvalla,” Dorian’s voice rang in her ears as he skidded to a halt beside her, eyeing her pallid complexion with concern. “Are you alright?”

A tangy metallic taste filled her mouth, and she spat to rid herself of it. Crimson splattered across the grey stone and she huffed. “Peachy.”

“How can I help?” Dorian beseeched her, and she shook her head.

“You can’t. Help Bull. I have to do this a—“

Like a comforting, woollen blanket enveloping her in front of a slow-burning, crackling fire, Love’s presence gently nudged at the edges of Ash’s consciousness. Initially, it was a subtle, tender touch, but as fatigue seeped into her bones and eroded her hold on herself, Love's influence grew stronger and more insistent.

“What are you…” Ash’s limbs ceased responding to her command. “No. Stop. Love, don’t. It will destroy you—“

Her body was no longer her own, left adrift in her own mind, all she could do was watch as Dorian’s eyes widened, and he took a step back.

Love smiled sadly, using Ash’s mouth, Ash’s voice. “For you, my Ashvalla, I would gladly make that sacrifice.”

The world turned crystalline. Everything sharp, everything unbearably bright. Love seized the magic, and the Well’s voices became a choir, a thousand nameless ancestors lending their pain, their longing, their relentless, undiminished hope. The Archdemon drew every ounce of focus: hideous, battered, but not nearly dead enough.

Ash screamed at Love, wordless, furious, pleading. But the spirit’s resolve was a wall, gentle and impenetrable.

The Archdemon shook itself, blood and ichor raining from its mangled throat. Love raised Ash’s arms and cast, not with the limited skill of a mortal mage, but with the boundless abandon of a spirit. The fire dragon transformed, brighter, hotter, less like an animal and more like a living wound torn straight from the Fade.

Every second, Ash’s body burned, though no blisters erupted across her skin, her eyes wept blood and tears both.

Love drove the fire beast straight at the Archdemon - no clever feints, no patience, just a collision of pure will. The Archdemon countered, shrieking, its wings thrashing, its jaws clamping down on the construct’s leg. The two locked midair, tumbling - neither would yield.

Ash, silent and powerless inside her own mind, wept. She saw Love’s memories, the quiet moments in bed with her lover, the warmth of Sweetpea on her chest, the wishes for peace. She saw every time she’d struggled to protect others, thinking herself alone, not realizing that Love had always been there to support her, a silent partner in every reckless act. Now Love was giving everything, burning herself away so Ash could live.

The spell reached its breaking point. The fire dragon exploded, taking the Archdemon with it in a blossom of white-hot light and roaring flame. The shockwave knocked everyone flat. The demons evaporated, their empty husks flaking away on the wind. A lone ball of crackling red energy floated from the Archdemon’s corpse and flew further into the ruins.

A broken, wailing cry ripped itself from Ash’s throat as her body was relinquished back to her. She fell to the ground, the gravel digging into her palms as she swayed, holding back her stomach contents from spilling onto the stone. Emptiness filled her chest, a void where there had once been heat and love and kindness. There was nothing. No fluttering behind her ribs or insistent banging on her spine. Love was gone. After twenty-three years, only Ash lived in her body. All the progress they’d made in the past few weeks crumbled to dust. Their tentative trust and friendship vanished like the spirit herself. Ash didn’t deserve Love’s sacrifice, but Love had given it without hesitation.

Choked sobs fell from her lips, tears burning salty tracks down her cheeks as she leaned her forehead against the ground. She shivered. Never before had she felt so cold. Not even in the mountains after Haven, her body failing, Love lodged in her heart, using her energy to keep Ash’s life-giving muscle beating.

Dorian came into view as he rushed to her side, kneeling beside her, a hand placed on her back as though to reassure him through touch that she lived.

She lived and Love didn’t.

Dorian shook her gently as Bull’s thunderous footsteps arrived on her other side. She couldn’t make out the words that slipped from beneath his mustache - not a hair out of place despite the intensity of the battle, but from the concern in his eyes, she could guess he was inquiring about her well-being.

But she could barely think under the tangle of vines that pressed her sorrow into her battered flesh.

“She’s gone,” she croaked instead. “Love is gone.”

A thick silence had her curling in on herself, unable to see their confusion lest it break her further.

“Gone? Whatever do you mean 'gone’?” Dorian asked incredulously.

Ash's sobs came in ragged, uneven gasps as she tried to explain, but her tongue was held down by loss.

“Let’s save the explanations for when we’re safe.” Iron Bull’s soothing rumble eased into her chest, filling a sliver of the emptiness.

Pushing herself up on trembling arms to kneel, she spat blood from her mouth - blacker than before. “We need to go after them.”

Her legs felt like jelly, refusing to support her weight, and as she attempted to rise, they betrayed her, folding beneath her like a house of cards. Before she could tumble to the ground, Bull's strong arms caught her.

“Not like that you won’t,” Dorian chided.

Ash’s ears pinned against the sides of her skull, her teeth barred in a snarl. “I can fight.” Fog overtook her mind, numbness and agony fighting for dominance. “I-I can’t lose her, too.”

“The Boss is stronger than you think.” Bull hefted Ash’s body into his arms, limp as a ragdoll.

Her head lolled to the side, her gaze landing on Dorian’s disapproving grimace. “What happened to making my task easy? Cullen will be beside himself already with the state you’re in. He may just flay me alive if I allowed you to rush after the Inquisitor now. You killed the Archdemon for her, you’ve already lessened the danger significantly.”

That was…a fair point, and Ash bit her tongue to hold back her irritated rebuttal. Dorian was being a good friend, and though she wanted to fight alongside Rae, she’d only be a hindrance. But to risk losing another that day…she couldn’t handle the thought.

Tears fell from her cheeks, carving tracks through dried blood, and she didn’t care where they landed. Her body jostled as Bull carried her away from the carnage Love had left in her wake. Ash shivered again, her teeth clattering together.

“It’s so cold,” she mumbled, feeling herself slipping away, dizzy and head stuffed full of cotton.

“Hold on for just a few more minutes, we’ll get you warmed up soon.” Dorian’s voice had tightened, frustration and tension upping the octave. “Once we find somewhere safe.”

“I don’t want to be alone.” She sniffled, a child held in securely against a broad chest, like she never had been.

Dorian patted her shoulder. “You aren’t.”

No, that’s not what she meant. She wasn’t alone out there, she was alone inside. Hollowed out and discarded like an empty husk. But her mouth couldn’t form the words to express this, and her breathing began to slow.

“Ash,” Bull barked, though it didn’t have the desired effect. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Hey, don’t go to sleep on us now.”

But it wasn’t her choice, the exertion had taken its toll, had ripped her soul from its companion and left her wandering the moonlit wheat fields of her psyche, calling for her oldest friend and getting nothing but a muted echo of her own voice in return.

Green light of the anchor flashed into the sky, imprinting itself on Ash’s eyelids, though she didn’t stir. Rocks fell around them as Bull and Dorian ducked for cover, and she remained still.

She breathed, but barely, and as darkness encroached on the vacant field within her mind, Ash gave one last, plaintive cry.

“Love, please come back! Don’t leave me like this! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, don’t go!”

She fell back, weightless, a singular droplet of water plinking into a puddle. Her vision single to a pinpoint, the stars above her mere specks among the cold dark of the night. Her consciousness teetered on the brink, vaguely aware of Dorian calling her name, but no matter how badly she wished her limbs to move, to let her crawl her way back, they remained uselessly limp.

A second, one singular moment in time, right before the darkness took her, her heart beat; and within that beat, within that organ that sustained her, an oh, so familiar warmth flickered. 

Next Chapter

A/N: If I promise I'll fix it, do you promise not to murder me? If you're worried, I consider Love a main character, and I haven't updated any tags, if that helps.

The chapter title was inspired by this quote, which I imagine to be from Love's perspective: “In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.” - Pablo Neruda

I'd love to hear anyone's predictions on the final chapter!

[lachesismoonmist]

Music Soothes the Soul - Part III (jk fic)

Chapters 17 - 20

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook / Reader

Words: 10.7K words

Status: Complete. 20 Chapters in 3 parts (1-8; 9-16; 17-20)

Read it here on AO3

Summary: Follow our MC and JK on their three dates. Things get hot. Smut alert in Chapter 19!

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Chapter 17 - Date #1 (JK) Chapter 18 - Date #2 (Y/N) Chapter 19 - Date #3 (JK) Chapter 20 - Be Mine (Y/N)

Chapter 17

Date #1 (JK)

Jungkook appeared on your doorstep with a small bouquet of Geraniums.  He placed one bloom in your hair. He drove you to the coast for dinner.  The restaurant had an outdoor patio on a hillside facing the sea, with a gorgeous view of the sunset.  Looking at you, smiling at the sunset, glowing in the golden light.  A warm feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with the sun's last rays. Jungkook knew.  You belonged together.

Dinner was Mexican, nothing fancy, but you had fun feeding each other tacos. This was followed by a small, intimate, modern take on Verdi’s La Traviata.  It was performed in an open-air amphitheater near the Mexican restaurant.  There were only 30 in the audience. Music was provided by a small ensemble of about 10 musicians. The conductor was a young man who had also attended the same Fine Arts High School Y/N and you had attended.  He gushed at having two renown musicians in his audience and dedicated the performance to you whilst everyone clapped.

Watching La Traviata up close was a totally different experience. Jungkook got goosebumps during Violetta's aria in Act II, "Amami, Alfredo".  He felt you shiver. You got goosebumps too.  You had gripped Jungkook’s hand really hard during Violetta’s “Addio, del passato” ("Farewell, carefree dreams of the past") from the end of Act III.  Your fingers on your lips, eyes watery, lips slightly pouty.  When Violetta died in her love’s arms, you sniffled.  It was adorable.

Jungkook walked you to your door and kissed you goodnight.  He’d pulled back to look at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.  You leaned forward to kiss him again, but he retreated.

“Third date, Baby.  Unless you want to concede now and we go fuck like rabbits?” he leered at you.

You laughed. Pushed him away.  “Third date then, Stud.”

Jungkook would have been more than happy to break the rule, but you were as stubborn as he was.  He made up his mind to try to seduce you on the next date.

Chapter 18

Date #2 (Y/N)

The sounds, colors and lights at the amusement park always brought me back to my childhood. My parents buying us popcorn to munch as we queued for the Ferris Wheel. Ha Eun winning me stuffed animals at the game booths.  Eating cotton candy till our faces were sticky.

For a moment my mind went to that ill-fated date with Jungkook that never happened.  But I brushed those thoughts aside.  I was here now.  Jungkook was trying to win me a giant squishy unicorn.  He had remarkably good aim.  Dinner had been corn dogs and popcorn. Cotton candy was dessert.

It was our turn on the Ferris Wheel. Squishy Unicorn barely fit in the space near our legs.  I looked at Jungkook’s profile in the carnival lights.  He was wearing a tight-fitting white button down. Short sleeved. Showing off his tattoos.  Broad shoulders and pecs straining against the shirt when he moved.  Khaki colored slacks that hugged his tight ass and muscular thighs. 

Two could play at that game.  I was in a tight-fitting sun-dress with bows at the shoulders.  The v-neck was low enough to see some cleavage.  I wasn’t wearing a bra.

When we reached the top, Jungkook pulled me against him and claimed my lips.  One hand ghosted along my side.  He’d trapped my arms so that my hands rested on his pecs.  He lips trailed down from my ear, to my neck, my shoulder, as he use his lips to push the strap off. He squeezed my breast through my dress, running his thumb over the nipple. Then he slipped his hand under my dress, running up my thigh.

But then he stopped.  He withdrew his hand.  He pulled my shoulder strap up, kissed his way up my neck and ended with a resounding smack on my lips. “I couldn’t resist, Baby. You look so gorgeous”. 

I looked at him a little dazed.  He took my hand to help me out of the Ferris Wheel. 

“So,” he said cheekily as he hugged me from behind.  He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Do you want to stay? Go to the Hall of Mirrors?  Or do we go back to your place?  Are you wet yet, Baby?”

I narrowed my eyes at him.  “How about you Stud?” I couldn’t move because Jungkook had caught me around the waist and was holding me there. I could, however, rub my ass against him.  “Hard enough yet?”

He laughed, letting me go.  “Uh uh, Baby, I won’t lose.  Let’s go see those Mirrors then.”

The kiss at my door was hot and steamy.  Jungkook took advantage of it to grope my ass, pulling me against him.  I could feel his erection.

“Till tomorrow, Baby,” he growled.

I looked up at the desire in his face. It was almost enough to make me give in. Almost. “Tomorrow, Stud,” I pressed one last chaste kiss on his lips and let myself into my apartment.

Chapter 19

Date #3 (J/K)

Jungkook dreamed of you.  He woke up with an erection.  He thought about how you whimpered on the Ferris Wheel when he’d squeezed your full, luscious breast.  His hand drifted towards his cock. He had not “taken care of things himself” since, well, High School.  He gripped his cock and pumped.  He recalled how smooth your thigh felt. Pump.  How sweet your skin was when he kissed your neck and shoulder. Pump. How you rubbed your ass against him. Pump. Pump. The steamy kiss at your door.  Pump. Pump. Pump.

As he cleaned up, he vowed he would have you in his bed tonight, after the date.  He decided he would clean up his apartment too. He changed his sheets.  He planned to bring you home, so it’d be your first time seeing his place.  For some reason it was important that you liked it.  Maybe because he could foresee you spending a lot of time there in the near future.

----------------------

He arrived at your apartment early.  Dinner was Omakase at a fancy, high-end restaurant.  Dress code, formal.  He was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt, black slacks, dress shoes.  He’d considered putting on a tie, but he didn’t for two reasons.  One, it felt a bit stuffy.  Two, one less item to take off after dinner.

You greeted him at the door in a little black dress.  It had a wide scoop neck in front, giving him a peek of the top of your breasts.  It hugged your figure, coming to a stop halfway down your thighs.  You were still barefoot.

“Hey Kook, you’re early,” you smiled as you took a bouquet of tulips from him.  You padded into your kitchen to put them in water.  “Let me just put on my shoes and we can go.”

You grabbed a pashmina and your purse off the counter.  You stood in your doorway and leaned down, putting on your heels one at a time.  Jungkook was given a good view of a lacy black bra, twice.  His eyes were glued to your chest when you stood up.  Your smirk told him that you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Want to go straight to dessert, Stud?” you said flirtatiously, looking at him through your lashes.

“And miss out on the Omakase? Nope.  Let’s go.”  He took you by the hand firmly, pulling you towards the elevator before he could change his mind.

---------------

The food was exquisite.  The chef was very friendly, explaining each dish as it was prepared. You were joking and laughing with the chef, thoroughly enjoying yourself.  You’d leaned forward with your arms crossed on the counter. The move emphasized your round breasts and pushed them further up out of your dress.  A patron sitting opposite you was looking at you, his gaze dropping to your chest unashamedly, despite his lady guest sitting right next to him.  He met Jungkook’s eyes then when he looked up, and quickly looked away, embarrassed at being caught ogling.

Jungkook didn’t mind.  Why would he?  He was out on a date with the prettiest girl in the room. You’d placed your hand on his thigh, and were alternating between kneading and stroking as you chatted with the chef.  Then you leaned forward to clean some sauce off his lips, pressing your breasts against his arm, giving him a knowing look.  His hand rested on the small of your back, drawing small circles, occasionally moving lower to brush over your lacy thong through your dress.

At the carpark, you’d dropped the valet coupon on the floor.  You bent over to retrieve it, ass in the air, your dress running up your thighs.  You smirked at him as he took the coupon from you to pass to the Valet.   He was sorely tempted to pull into some quiet spot somewhere and have his way with you. But he didn’t want your fist time to be in the backseat of a car.  So he drove as fast as he could without breaking any traffic laws.

Stepping into his apartment with you, he saw it again with fresh eyes.  The floor to ceiling window running the entire length of the living room, looking out over fields and small hills at the back of the city. The minimalist furniture, the grey concrete kitchen, white marble kitchen counter. Dimmable warm lights throughout. A large lava lamp in one corner of the living room.

You stood in front of the full-length windows admiring the view.  You were silhouetted by the moonlight. You looked like you were glowing.  His very own Moon Goddess.

Jungkook walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pressed his lips to the back of your ear, moving down the elegant curve of your neck.  He pulled back so he could work the zip of your dress.  He kissed every inch of skin that was slowly exposed, as he pushed the straps of your dress off down your arms.  He unhooked your black lacy bra, sliding it off you, throwing it over his shoulder onto the sofa.  He cupped your breasts. Palms rubbing against your nipples.  You reached back to hold the back of his neck with both arms, pushing your breasts into his hands.  He grazed the juncture of your neck and shoulders with his teeth as you shuddered.

The rest of your dress fell into a pool on the floor. He helped you step out of it.  He turned you around to admire you, then devoured those sweet lips of yours.  Your hands went into his hair and tugged on the silky strands.  His hands roamed down to your ass, kneading, then lifting.

He lifted you off your feet, burying his face between your warm breasts.  He walked you into his bedroom and placed you gently on his bed. You shimmied out of your lacy thong, throwing it at him.  He laughed in delight, caught it and put it in the pocket of his slacks.

“You in my bed is a dream come true,” he said huskily.

“I bet in your dream we were both naked.” You looked him up and down, still fully dressed.  He grinned, unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off.   He reached for his belt buckle, but you moved closer to him, legs hanging over the side of the bed.

“Let me,” you said in a low voice, looking up at him.

He could deny you nothing.  As you worked on his belt, you pressed kisses to his abs.  His v-line. The smattering of hair below his navel.  Your hand brushed against his hard cock as you unzipped his slacks. Then you pushed his slacks and boxers down.  You licked your lips when his cock sprang free.  Your pushed his slacks and boxers lower, letting them drop onto the floor.

Then you took him completely by surprise by taking him into your mouth.  Those lips he’d once imagined around his cock, then felt guilty about having such dirty thoughts about you. But the dirty things you were doing now were blowing his mind.  You swirled around the head with your tongue.  You licked a stripe from balls to tip.  You took him all the way in, in one swift move, the tip hitting the back of your throat making his hips buck. He placed a hand on your head as you moved up and down his cock.  His brain was going into overdrive.

“Y/N, Baby, stop,” he said gently but firmly, holding your head, pulling out of your mouth.  He saw the questioning look on your face.  “I want to come inside you,” his voice deep with want.  He pushed you back down by the shoulders and climbed over you.

The way you were spread out beneath him, your hair fanned out over his pillow.  Your beautiful body bare. You looking up at him with lust in your eyes.  If this was the last thing he ever saw, he could die happy.

“But first…”  He scooted down, resting his elbows on the bed between your legs.  “I want to taste you.”  He pressed his face into your warm heat.  He licked you, tongue flat against your lips, upwards towards your clit.  His tongue that invaded your folds, swirling around your clit, then back down towards your opening.  “Mmmm” he hummed in appreciation of your taste.  Then he fucked you with his tongue.  When he latched on your clit and sucked, he also pushed a finger into your opening.  Your hips bucked up.   He used his free arm to hold your hips down.  He pushed in one more finger, sliding in and out as he sucked.  He increased his pace when he felt you tense up, then felt your juices drench his face when you came.  “Mmm, tasty.”

You smiled lazily at him when he moved back up. Jungkook bent down to kiss you.  Hips settling down on yours as your legs spread to fit him.  

“I want you inside me,” you said, reaching for him.  He kissed you again as he reached down and lined his cock up with your entrance.  He looked in your eyes and slowly pushed in.  Your mouth went slack, eyes glazed as he slid in inch by inch.  When he was fully sheathed, he bent down to kiss your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth.  Your back bowed off the bed as you moaned.  He stored this information away for the future.

Then he slowly withdrew, drawing out the stroke. The wet slide, your warm tight walls gripping him made him shiver with pleasure.  He stroked you slowly a few times.

“Jungkook”, you breathed, “fuck me harder.”   Jungkook lost his mind then. His control snapped.  He lowered himself onto his elbows and started thrusting into you. He thrust so hard, the bed rocked.  Your whimpers drove him crazy.  You locked your ankles behind his back, changing the angle, opening yourself up more.  He snapped his hips forward as he held onto your hips with a bruising grip.

Your breath hitched.  He felt your muscles tighten.  You were close. “Come for me, Y/N. Come for me, Baby.”

You came with a cry “Jungkook!”.  He felt your walls gripping, sucking him in greedily. The way you cried out his name, he’d never heard anything sweeter.  That alone had him coming.  His balls tightening, then pleasure washing over him as he pounded into you a few more times.  “Fuck, Y/N, fuck,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath.

He rolled you onto your sides and held you, until he softened and slipped out of you.  He pushed your sweaty hair off your face, kissing your forehead, eyes and nose.   “Don’t make me wait three more dates before we can do that again,” Jungkook laughed softly. 

“No,” you said.  “No more waiting”.  You kissed him, your bodies rubbing together.  His cock started hardening again, brushing against you.  You rolled him over so that you were on top.  You sat up, straddling him.  You took his cock and pumped it slowly a few times.  Then you sat higher on your knees to line him up with you.

“Come on.  Let me ride you like the Stud you are,” you said with a twinkle in your eye as you impaled yourself on his cock.  Jungkook’s eyes rolled back.  Yes, he’d died and gone to heaven.

------------------

Chapter 20

Be mine (Y/N)

TWO YEARS LATER

Concert season was over.  To celebrate, the gang had reserved two VIP tables at the R&B club.  A few other musicians the gang had invited had never been to a club. 

Suddenly, “I Do (Cherish You)” by 98 Degrees started playing.  People in the club were surprised at the change of pace. One or two even booed. The rest were standing around looking puzzled. 

Jungkook, who had been sitting next to me, suddenly got up.  He fished something from out of his pocket.  A small velvet box.  He pulled my hand to make me stand up, then he went down on one knee as he opened the box.

A diamond ring twinkled within. From the size, it was easily two carats.

“Oh my God!” screamed Ji-a.  She thumped Taehyung repeatedly on the shoulder. “Did you know?”

“No!” Tae cried, trying to deflect her blows.

Cheers and whoops from our group, and even the club patrons.  The DJ looked over and gave Jungkook a thumbs up. Jungkook smiled widely at everyone, gesturing to the crowd to quieten down. The DJ turned down the volume of the song.

I stood there blinking like a deer in headlights. 

Jungkook took my hand.  “Y/N, Baby,” Jungkook said, smiling from ear to ear, his dimples showing.  “You’re everything a man could even want.  Loving. Kind. Smart. Beautiful. Sexy.”

From somewhere in the club, someone went “Yeah!”  Jungkook grinned.  “Let me kiss you awake every morning and hold you tight every night.“

More whoops and “yeah”s and even a “yeah, baby!”.   Even I was smiling now.

“Being with you has made me a better man.  I’m yours, Baby, body, mind and soul.  Say you’ll wear my ring. Say you’ll be mine.“  He looked up at me, eyes full of love.

“Say yes!” someone shouted. 

The DJ joined in over the PA system. “If you don’t want him, take me!”  We all laughed.

I let go of Jungkook’s hand to cup his cheek.  “Jeon Jungkook,” I said with a serious face.  I paused. The club was silent, like everyone was holding their breath.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Of course the answer is ‘Yes’’!”  The entire club erupted in cheers.   Jungkook’s smile lit up his entire face.  He took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto my ring finger. 

He jumped up, pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately.  I kissed him back equally passionately.

“Get a room!” someone shouted, making everyone laugh.

“By special request,” the DJ announced, “here’s 2pac.” 

"California Love....." 

“Come on, Baby,” Jungkook pulled me towards the dancefloor.  “They’re playing our song.” -------  The End -------

[thelastarchive]

"The others have gone,'' she said. "They are scattered to the woods they came from, no two together, and men will not catch sight of them much more easily than if they were still in the sea. I will go back to my forest too, but I do not know if I will live contentedly there, or anywhere. I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, though I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret."

Schmendrick hid his face like a child, though he was a great magician. "I am sorry, I am sorry," he mumbled into his wrist. "I have done you evil, as Nikos did to the other unicorn, with the same good will, and I can no more undo it than he could. Mommy Fortuna and King Haggard and the Red Bull together were kinder to you than I."

But she answered him gently, saying, "My people are in the world again. No sorrow will live in me as long as that joy-save one, and I thank you for that, too. Farewell, good magician. I will try to go home."

- The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle