#as the children were restless and too young to understand war at the time

[bibururokku]

I blinked at him in slight astonishment at the number of blue flowers he found. With the color of the blooms being somewhat rare and many being off-season, the purchase was on the pricier side for a bouquet, but not enough to cause concern. As we continued our way onto the street, I studied the rather comically large bouquet in Mihya's arms while he looked around for more things he wanted. The small clusters of blue end up catching my eye instead of the larger blossoms.

We sure ended up getting a lot of blue cornflowers... I guess it makes sense since they're the national flower of Germany, but they suit you. With their nickname being the "Kaiser’s Flower," and these ones quite literally belonging to you and all, it’s very cute.

Hey, Mihya, I was wondering if— Oh???

You're like my height now... It's a bit jarring when you normally tower over me as an adult. Anyways, seeing you like this is really setting off my maternal/big sister instincts, so you wanna go shopping? I'll buy you anything you want. If you're not comfy or suspicious about it, you can just consider it an apology gift for annoying you so much when you're older, haha.

— @bibururokku (Rui)

! shopping? who're you??

^ kaiser looks very excited.

did you do something to older me, too? :(

[crisalidaseason]

Ties with frayed ends

Summary: The table scene from Mikasa's perspective, also, she refuses to see Armin being beaten. Content Warnings: spoilers season 4, slight canon divergence, angst, violence, eren being cruel, some dialogue is taken from the table scene, mean eren, toxic eren, platonic arumika, mikasa loves armin very much, mikasa and eren are SIBLINGS here, strictly siblings, mentions of declining mental health, nightmares, night terrors, insecurities, mentions of blood and broken bones, a little eremin if you squint very hard.

Mikasa was numb, hearing and watching everything as if she was outside or her body. The boy - no, the man - seated on her left was far from the sweet green-eyed brother she grew up with. He had an indifferent face, eyes a dull color with all life drained from it. As the blood ran through the cut on Eren’s hand, staining the table cloth, Mikasa wondered if this stranger deserved the name. 

“I just wanna talk to you” Eren’s voice was just as dead as his eyes, but Mikasa’s ears were too muffled to even register that. 

The Ackerman's feelings were in shock, but her instincts caught the trembling of the young girl across from her. She should have known, should have taken her out of that place. No matter what Eren’s words were, Mikasa could feel her senses burning and screaming that something would go horribly wrong.

“More conflict isn’t necessary to solve eldia’s problems…” Eren continued, and at that point Mikasa was only hoping Armin was paying attention.

She looked at Gabi again, still terrified. Her eyes landed on her brother. It was him. That moment solidified what Mikasa feared to even think about in the dead of night: her brother was turning into someone’s devil, his very name and presence causing fear in young hopefull children. Mikasa felt sick, she remembered all those years, listening to the cries of mothers, fathers, lovers, sons and daughters who mourned the ones claimed by the colossal’s first attack. 

“...attack Marley on your own?...” the familiar voice of Armin sometimes brought the girl back to the present. 

She looked at her friend for the first time since entering that room. Her precious Armin. He had bags under his eyes, a horrible shade of purple that never abandoned him. He was speaking, his voice just as soft -and yet firm- as it always had been. He was always such a comprehensive friend, but also his constant need to understand the full story often sent him into such horrible places. His lips moved, his blond eyebrows frowning. He wanted to understand Eren, he always did. 

“I am free, Armin” Eren’s deep voice finally broke her haze. 

Freedom. She wondered what he meant, if he ever knew freedom at all. 

“My actions are governed by nothing but my free will” he said again, eyes dead, so dead. 

He is lying, lying. The voice inside her said. She knew her brother, he was lying. She knew him, didn’t she? He would not choose to do those horrible things, her brother was not like that. Eren had his fair share of crimes, so did she and Armin and everyone else, but he would never…he would not do all of that on purpose. Eren was not evil, she could not bring herself to accept that. 

Armin spoke again, but she could not hold herself anymore.

“No way” she spoke for the first time, her voice harsher than she would ever speak to him “you’re being manipulated. The Eren I know would never involve civilians and children in a war even if they were enemies”

His eyes were so dull, so dull.

“And you wouldn’t risk our lives either!” she continued “you care about us, don’t you?”

She was not fully aware, but Armin’s hand touched her elbow, slightly trying to pull her down, yet she still stood up. Her mind and body were restless.

“You rescued me from that cabin, you wrapped this scarf around me” she felt her eyes sting, her hands holding the red cloth “you’re a kind-”

“I said keep your hands on the table, Mikasa!” Eren firmly exclaimed.

Silence. Mikasa felt her eyes burn in solidarity to her chest. He was never the most quiet person, neither held his rudeness around her and Armin when his feelings were all over the place, but something about his words, his face, felt different. She sat down, feeling her legs wanting to give up, then she noticed Armin’s touch. 

“Back in Liberio, I spoke with Zeke. Brother to brother”

Brother? Her throat went dry, the stinging in her eyes suddenly running down her body, stopping on her trembling angry hands. Brother. Zeke. A man who Eren never met before, a man who murdered their comrades as if he was playing, a man who was never there when Eren had fevers, never cleaned his cuts and bruises, never comforted him in moments of grief and neither celebrated his moments of joy. Zeke was never there, but she was. How dare he call Zeke brother.

“I don’t-” Armin’s eyes were wide.

A gasp from Armin sent her back into the present. She was succumbing to distractions, she needed to return. 

“If memories play a major role in shaping us into the people we are, then part of you has become Bertholdt” Eren spoke, his green eyes burning on his friend “within you is an enemy who has feelings for another enemy. Do you understand? Bertholdt has gotten into your head, you’re the one being manipulated by the enemy”

He did not. Eren did not say that. Mikasa was torn between shedding tears and breaking something. He had no right to do that, he had no right to poke at Armin’s fears knowing all of those horrible nights in which the blonde screamed after a nightmare. Bertholdt’s memories haunted the blond boy for so long that Mikasa worried that her friend would never recover. 

ººººº

“I feel as if there is someone sharing my mind, my body. And they are so many, Mikasa, so many!” the blue eyes were full of tears, his entire body shaking violently, his voice falling him after waking up screaming. Mikasa could only feel her heart twist at the sight of a nightmare frightened Armin. 

“I’m here” she would say to him, embracing Armin’s shaking figure. 

“Where is he?” Armin would whisper.

“Not here”

ººººº

“Why would you-” Mikasa yelled, her anger was already coming to the surface. She had shown Eren her wrath before whenever he was slightly rude to Armin, and she would not hesitate to put her brother in his place, she would-

“You’re being controlled too” he directed his vile speech at her “the Ackerman clan was designed to be perfect to protect their host.”

Shut up, she wanted to say.

“Your ackerman instincts were dormant until that life or death situation in which you heard me order you to fight. The strength and certainty you felt that moment were awakened because your blood mistook me for the host you were made to protect”

“That can’t be” shut up.

“Why not?” he continued, his eyes burning her this time. Her eyes also burned, the tears were forming. She knew it. 

“It wasn’t a mistake” her voice was failing her “it’s because it was you, it had to be you, you are why I became strong! how could that be a mistake?”

“As an ackerman with awakened powers, you’re apparently supposed to get headaches frequently” Eren ignored her pleaded “Research said it’s the Ackerman trying to resist being forced to protect their host. Sounds familiar?

“You’re wrong” Mikasa wanted to scream, but she could only whisper.

ººººº

“What if I am…just a tool” she confessed on a late night insomnia session with Armin and Eren “What if they’re right?”

The trio was laying on a small bed, Mikasa laying on Armin’s stomach and her feet resting on Eren’s lap. Armin was looking at the ceiling, the thin pillow supporting his neck from the cold wall, he would occasionally put little braids on Mikasa’s hair to occupy his hands. Eren was almost dozing off, he had tried to stay awake with the other two insomniacs but always ended up sleeping. 

“They are not!” Armin said, tugging one of her braids softly “You’re Mikasa and that’s all. You’re my best friend, Sasha’s biggest torment, Captain Levi’s bane. 

“You’re fun, your dry humor is one of the best things whenever dinner is miserable, your also have the best gossip to share and the worst advice” Eren commented, his speech slurring. 

She laughed, rolling her eyes at them. She was horrible comforting people.

“You know what I mean”

“And I also know it’s irrational to think you’re just a mind controlled person” he firmly told her “let’s forget this nonsense, hm? What do you think about stealing something from the kitchens” Armin said, looking at her with his menacing smile, like the little thief he was. 

ººººº

Eren knew how she felt about being diminished as a person, how people were quick to judge her actions and behaviors with no grayscale. He knew how dehumanized she felt and yet there he was, reminding her of the quiet insecurity that haunted her deeply. 

“What I am saying is that you belong to a clan that was created to protect and obey. You are slaves” he almost seemed proud of every word he uttered. 

“Stop, leave her alone!” Armin yelled at Eren, which almost distracted her. Armin was never one to yell unless severely distressed. 

“You wanna know what I hate more in this world?” Eren ignored Armin, eyes still focused on hers “anyone who isn’t free, you are no better than cattle”

“Eren” Armin’s warning tone reached her eyes.

“The mere sight of you has always made me so angry…now I know why. I could not stand seeing a slave with no mind of her own, who always followed orders without question”

Shut up, shut up, shut up! She wanted to scream, punch, hurt him. He had no right to say those things to her, to Armin, to anybody!

“Believe me when I say that, Mikasa” his voice would forever haunt her “ever since I was a kid, I hated you”

Time seemed to stop, the words repeating and reverberating in her head. She searched for a single drop of regret over his words, and she found none. She found dull and dead green eyes, his venom filled voice consuming her heart. Her blood was so loud on her ears that Mikasa almost did not register when Armin lunged himself across the table with a cry of rage. In a matter of seconds, her body acted faster than her mind, and she pinned the blond boy on the table before his fist could collide with Eren’s face. She looked at her hands, at Armin’s blue eyes filled with pain, reflecting her own hurt feelings. 

What have I done, she thought, Why am I protecting him if all he does is hurt us?

Mikasa let go of Armin, looking hatefully at her own traitorous hands. At that point, she had no strength to stop the blonde, she had no right to restrain him after what Eren told him. Eren was no more, the man in front of them was not her brother, her friend. He was a stranger, lost in the threads of her memory. She was tired, she was so tired. Her heart was in so much pain that Mikasa feared it would give up beating.

What have we become?

As soon as Armin’s fist made contact with Eren’s face, she knew this was over. Armin’s burst of anger was the proof she needed, they were not a trio anymore. Eren left them for good, so distant that she would never be able to reach him. Armin was all she had left, and as Mikasa watched Eren pull the blonde by the collar and throw him on the ground…she snapped. If Eren was no more, he would not touch anything precious to her. Never. 

Against her own heart and mind screaming at her, Mikasa jumped over the downturned table and grabbed Eren’s shirt, yanking him back. 

He is your brother!!

Her punch broke his jaw.

He is Armin’s friend, he loves him!

The other punch cracked Eren’s nose. 

He is not lost, we can’t save him!

She cried, screamed. Her tears mixed with the blood pouring from Eren’s nose. If her brother was trying to defend himself, she did not notice it. She kept going, punch after punch. 

Why are you doing this! Stop, Mikasa-

“Stop!!” Armin’s voice took her by surprise “Mikasa, stop!”

She felt Armin’s hands digging into her sides while he tried to lift her from Eren’s middle section. The blonde was not weak as the others said, he had a considerable amount of strength, but Mikasa had monstrous force whenever she was out of her mind, the blond struggled to lift her, resorting to words.

“Mikasa, we need to leave. Now!” He yelled “the others need us!”

She stood up, eyes hyper focused on her bloodied brother. She saw the damage’s result on her hands, still trembling. She had done that, she…she hurt her own brother. 

“Mikasa” Armin pleaded, trying to catch her eyes “we have to go”

Mikasa was breathing heavily, her throat felt like sandpaper, a result of her screams of rage and sorrow that she did not remember uttering, but all the soldiers, Armin, Gabi and Eren himself witnessed. 

“We lost him” Armin’s voice was nothing but a whisper, a pained one.

She finally landed her eyes on her friend. He had a visibly broken nose, which made her cringe at the sight of his face swelling. She hesitated for far too long. 

“We lost him” she whispered back.

Eren’s groans caught her attention again. He was still on the ground, holding his stomach where she most likely kneeled him. He had blood all over his face and staining the floor. Mikasa felt horrible. Everything was wrong. They were supposed to see the ocean together, travel the world together, maybe come back to some peaceful place and live together. They were meant to be three in one. 

But Eren was never within reach.

[gravesung]

CASSI » BIO.

even in a modern verse where his eyes and hair are not golden, even when wearing rags or hungover in bed, horatio cassius aventinus radiates this greek hero aura of ‘something more.’ his charisma is captivating. he knows it, too, in a comfortable, selfsure way; cassi was always relaxed and confident in his self-perception, to the point of not much caring about it at all. 

when he told his parents at a very young age that he was a boy, actually, he said it so casually and confidently that his mother couldn’t help but laugh. it took some explaining, both from cassi and his twin sibling virilis, as they both came out at the same time.

their mother, sura, didn’t understand any of it very much. it took her a while to get used to the new pronouns and to accept that it wasn’t a bad thing, that she hadn’t done anything wrong as a parent. eventually, it sort of Clicked. she was watching cassi roughhouse with some of the neighborhood boys, and suddenly realized how much more he seemed like himself, seemed comfortable and happy in his skin. she thought back on earlier memories and realized how his deadname made his face twist in confusion, how he used to shift his weight and move around like there was an itch he couldn’t scratch. that was the “oh” moment – sura nodded to herself, and afterwards put active effort in to rewire her brain and support her kids as best she could. their town had very little experience in the way of arcana or medicine. it had sprung to life from a camp of refugees and soldiers, stranded near an arcane dead zone during the first days of the war that still raged on. sura and her husband hadrianus were both soldiers; sura was a swordswoman, hadrianus a war bard. they took turns being deployed so that one could raise the children while the other was away. cassi had come out to hadrianus in a letter, and he’d received one back with much quicker full support than sura was able to give at first. essentially, his dad said “hell yeah, another boy for the boys team, also when are you gonna learn guitar” and cassi was like “when you come back obviously”

throughout his childhood, cassi simply was. he focused on life outside of himself, wanting to make sure it was worth living. he was stubborn and fiery and got into arguments, but he wasn’t afraid to cry on virilis’s shoulder when his emotions took over. they, on the other hand, were a bit more of a mess. cassi came to think of himself as responsible for them, as virilis was a loudmouth and a frequent target of bullying from older kids; the amount of times cassi stood in front of them to take a punch soon became too many to count. only then, around twelve years old, did he start to understand the burden of fighting for, and sacrificing for, those you loved. he became a little more serious, but his relaxed, confident charisma remained steadfast and only their mother noticed the steady maturing that took place underneath it. “i don’t think i can do this” became “i can handle it.” “could you help me, please?” became “don’t worry about me.” “can i talk to you about something that’s weighing me down?” became “no, no, i’m just a touch sleep-deprived.” virilis left the country to attend Wizard Boarding School at thirteen, too restless to stay in their little town, too hungry for knowledge to put down roots. then, their little sister came into the world. hadriana. named for their father because her ears were just as long as his, not shorter and blunter like sura’s and cassi’s, she was the spitting image of him – and cassi held her for the first time, and cried because he’d never seen anything so lovely. while sura was occupied completely with the first months of raising her new baby, cassi stepped into his father’s shoes to do everything else that needed to be done. he took watch at night to allow sura to sleep. he cooked, cleaned, fed the animals. the war provided them income enough to stay comfortable, but he wrote to his father frequently to keep him updated on everything going on in their lives so that he wasn’t confused when he came back. once hadriana was old enough to be healthy and stable in the hands of family friends, he approached sura and asked her to teach him how to fight. hell if he was going to grow up unable to protect the people he loved, especially in the middle of a global war. their town was safe enough at the arcane dead zone, as dragons and their armies were mostly magic-based and avoided the area. but that didn’t mean there was no threat. it wasn’t easy at first: cassi was fit and sporty, but he preferred the soft neck of a lute to the pommel of a sword. alas, hadrianus had been away for two years and there was very little in the way of an ETA on his return, so rather than going to school with his friends, cassi trained full-time to be a fighter; his mother encouraged him to study at first, but he was never interested in such, beyond learning to read and write. virilis was the intellectual of the two. so sura let him do what he felt was right, because more than anyone else in the family, cassi’s compass was always true. he knew what he wanted. and that was that. it wasn’t until he was a teenager that their town’s lack of magic and surgical practitioners became an issue for cassi. hadrianus was at home this time, sura out being a badass in the field. hadriana was no longer a toddler who needed to be watched at all times lest she burn the house down with her budding magical abilities – whatever had touched cassi upon conception to make him an aasimar, it had given young hadriana the gift of fire. she calmed down a great deal after reaching four or five years old, though. during one of their late-night dice games, cassi told his father in confidence that he was starting to feel uncomfortable in his body again. he didn’t like his chest, didn’t like that he only seemed to gain weight in his hips, that he couldn’t seem to put on muscle as fast as the other boys and that his voice was so high. hadrianus wasn’t sure what to do about that, or what to say – the best he could do was suggest that cassi go visit virilis in the neighboring country. turns out, that was the best suggestion he could have made. cassi traveled alone while hadrianus stayed behind with the kiddo; it wasn’t the safest way to travel, but he wanted to explore, so he took trade routes and journeyed with merchants. finally, he made it to DRAKARTH ACADEMY, where virilis (and much later, riposte and keon) studied. drakarth was attached to an archive of the same name, and the school specialized partly in magical research. a friend of theirs referred him to a surgeon with whom he could schedule top surgery. additionally, cassi learned that in their artifact collection lay a dwarf-crafted belt that could alter the hormone balance and genitalia of the attuned wearer. unfortunately, he could not obtain the belt, nor could virilis as the artifact collection was more a museum than anything. this was where virilis worked their top-student magic. by studying in great depth the rules of the school handbooks, they learned that they could invoke the rite of trials: essentially, they could ask a member of staff for a boon. if it’s accepted, a trial would be created for them that matched the severity of the ask. sometimes the trial was a duel, sometimes an obstacle course, sometimes a written test. virilis was tasked with retrieving another artifact from a dangerous underground graveyard in return for the one they planned to take; they did, albeit gaining a few new scars along the way. cassi’s recovery was swift with the aid of clerics and potions his family happened to be able to afford. virilis took some time to recover from the delve as well, as they’d gone alone, and by the time they arrived at their dormitory where cassi was temporarily staying, they had the belt in hand and a great grin across their face. something to remember you by, they said, twisting around to show cassi a claw mark carved over their scapula. did you know that owlbear-liches exist? bloody rude, if you ask me. the twins spent a few more weeks together at drakarth getting up to mischief. then, finally, it was time for cassi to head home. he returned to find soldiers at their door, demanding that hadrianus come with them for emergency draft deployment. his father was shaking his head, and hadriana was hiding behind his legs – she’d already grown again, just in those few months! – and cassi rushed to stand in front of his family. hadrianus looked like a ghost. even at cassi’s prompting he didn’t speak, so cassi whirled to face the soldiers, demanding to know what was going on. sura was dead, they said. hadrianus was needed in battle. he didn’t have a choice; he’d made the agreement, and the war had gone sideways. what else was a hero to do but volunteer in his stead, mulan-style? hadrianus refused, vehemently, but cassi shook his head and told him that hadriana needed her father. he’d been absent for most of cassi and virilis’s lives; this was his chance to rest, and to be a father for once. to this day, cassi regrets those being his last words to his dad. he went off to war, a combination of his mother’s fighter prowess and his father’s bardic charm, and quickly rose through the ranks until he’d been appointed the youngest general in quite some time. much of this was due to the fact that no one could raise morale like he could. he was magnetic, confident and brave, and he shone gold in the sun with his pale-glowing aasimar wings. let there be light. he was a beacon. the next ten years provided no more gaps in duty when he might be able to return back home. those soldiers weren’t kidding when they said the war had gotten bad. they were losing. cassi had become necessary, not in place of his father but as himself, and war had become his life. he was eventually put in charge of a group of elite soldiers that would be called the sunsetters, because when they returned at sunset, very few among their number remained alive. the sunsetters were essentially the s.uicide squad – they went into situations that no one else would go into, those risky missions that could turn the tide of the battle at the cost of lives. they needed the morale. for some reason, be it fate, luck, skill, or a blessing from the gods, cassi survived every mission, including his last. it wasn’t supposed to be his last, of course. the sunsetters were leading the charge and scouting ahead across what seemed to be an advantageous but very open route. the battle began: cassi and his sunsetters versus a high-level wizard and the dragon he served. they were not prepared to fight a dragon and a mage without the support of the rest of their army; the wizard identified cassi as a threat early on and focused in on him, turning him to stone before he could get close enough with his sword. and that was that. his soldiers were too busy trying not to get killed by the dragon to save him from his fate; as the transformation took hold, he watched his men fall hopelessly to the enemies whose jaws he had led them into. then... nothing. silence and darkness. he awoke 500 years later to a new world. as it turned out, the battlefield he stood in was now a war memorial, so no one had looked too closely at the statue standing right in the middle of it; that is, except a group of archaeologists piecing together untold stories from the battles lost to time. one of them realized that cassi was, in fact, alive under there, and... well, i’d say the rest is history, but. ha.

[lemon0190]

Yes, a literal freaking curse. At least, it feels that way. Women on my mother’s side have been marrying and divorcing emotionally unavailable and broken men for years…sometimes with repetitive flare. Let’s start with my great grandmother. She was a beautiful and hardworking, southern woman. I’ll never admire another woman quite like I admired her. I was truly blessed to spend the last decade of her life listening to her stories. It’s the stories from the women in my life that have paved the way for me to do this. Growing up, she never told me very much about her life. Neither did my mother and grandmother. Much was kept secret from most of the girls in hopes of protecting them. It took until I was 20 for her and others to finally spill the tea. We would spend all day, nearly, talking about life and the past. In between naps and episodes of Days of Our Lives and Young and the Restless, she bestowed and divine wisdom only gained through years of heartache.

I heard it for years from my mother, “You don’t know the gran/gramps I knew growing up.” It didn’t take long after the stories began for me to understand what she meant. I admired John P, my great grandfather. He was a WW2 vet, worked every day on his farm until the day he passed, lived through the Great Depression, and never missed a day of church. He was also an asshole. A giant one. Before he got too old to do it, he walked around the farm with a flask of whiskey in his back pocket and a mean sentiment. As kids, we would run through the foyer and often catch him gossiping with the other men in hushed tones. Never knew the what’s and why’s until later. John P was also a perv.

While I am unsure if he was actually unfaithful to Gran, he sure acted like it. The gossiping was always about women in the community and always nasty. He would do it often in front of Gran without a single care towards her feelings. Now gossiping and whiskey may not seem all that bad, but, when you know everything Gran went through for him and us, it sure does. Gran, unlike most women in our bloodline, figured out a way to deal with a trifling husband.

Gran was tough as nails. She too made it through the Great Depression. John P was away at war when she gave birth to their first of seven children. Gran didn’t have a vehicle or a phone. So, she had to walk three miles down the road to her in laws in order to use their car. She gave birth on the side of the road halfway to the hospital. Most of the responsibility was on her, but she pushed through. Her fifth child was born with tetralogy of fallot and unfortunately didn’t make it past three months old. She buried two more children and two grandchildren in her later years. You name it, she’d been through it. Which is why she eventually got tired of her husband’s bullshit.

The famous hole in the wall above John P’s recliner had been an eyesore for years before I made my appearance into the world. The understanding was don’t ask about it and don’t ask her if she’d like you to fix it. The story goes, Gran was in the kitchen slaving over yet another hot meal when she overheard John P speaking ill of another female. She had told him several times to stop, but he ignored her. So, she took her cast iron skillet, full of fried chicken, off of the hot stove and launched it at his head. She missed, but never had an issue with overhearing him perving out about old Ethel’s slip again.

Then, there’s the shotgun incident as told from my much older cousin. One particular summer day, he was outside with John P and few other men from town. John P had been outside with these men drinking and, course, hooting and hollering. Gran had told John P several times to come in and dinners ready. After the third or fourth time of being ignored, she casually took the shotgun off the wall and fired it in the men’s general direction. They were gone before the smoke could settle.

Gran didn’t have a choice back then. It also may seem a bit extreme, but know she had the patience of Job even back then. She was Baptist and divorce was frowned upon. She endured for the sake of us. I believe she loved him, but he didn’t know how to love anyone. She found a way to stick up for herself, whether questionable or not. She reacted in the same way any good woman would, when they feel stuck and out of control. She lost her shit.

[gffa]

You know what I’m looking forward to?  Owen Lars being an absolutely fascinating character, because he loves Luke so much and has every reason to be afraid of him becoming a Jedi, because the galaxy wasn’t kind to Jedi before and it’s a hundred times worse now that the Empire has declared them treasonous just to exist. He’s not wrong that Obi-Wan will bring trouble, he’s hitting hard with that line about “Like you trained his father?” because Owen Lars is terrified that something will happen, Luke is already a bright and curious child, we know he grows up fascinating with his father, that he longs for adventure, that he has his eyes on the horizon, that he’s restless, of course Owen sees that in him, probably even as a child.  That’s what he’s afraid of, especially when Luke is so young. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Jedi Master, who could tell Luke all these incredible exciting stories about his father, Obi-Wan could so easily lure that child’s heart away, to Owen’s mind.  It doesn’t matter that Obi-Wan does his best to respect Owen’s wishes and keep at a distance, just Obi-Wan’s existence on Tatooine is enough to make Owen terrified. But it also doesn’t come without what we know of A New Hope or how Star Wars works--you can’t deny people their fate.  Luke Skywalker is fated to be a Jedi and we know Owen will tighten his grip on Luke enough that he chafes at it, enough that Luke was argues with him about going to the Imperial Academy instead of being forced to stay on Tatooine for another year.  It’s Beru who has to gentle things and remind Owen, “Luke’s just not a farmer.”  Owen says he’ll make it up to him next year, rather than admit to what Beru says is true. He never gets a chance to really let go--though, I think he eventually would have--to let Luke make his own choices and find the path he’s meant to be on, but also Luke will always carry the people who raised him in his heart.  I maintain that Beru Whitesun Lars is the one who truly wove kindness into Luke Skywalker’s bones, but that Owen Lars gave that kid safety and warmth and love. Owen struggled with his attachment to Luke, the fear of living without this kid he so loved, his desire to force his own life onto Luke, but you could see that Owen Lars was a good man.  His fear is understandable and I don’t think there’s a compassionate person in the galaxy who wouldn’t understand where it was coming from and that it was out of love, even if sometimes it was a little too much fear. The Jedi Order loved their children as well, but in a galaxy that had genocided them nearly out of existence, they couldn’t offer safety and community in the same way they used to.  Obi-Wan just being on the same planet was a risk, even if it wound up saving Luke’s life multiple times and was the Force trying to help bring the light of the Jedi back to the galaxy. So, Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun Lars were the people who were able to provide that safety and love that Luke needed, because the Empire wasn’t looking for them and because they loved that kid with their whole heart and they raised a sweet, kind boy. And all of it is going to make me absolutely bawl about it.

[minniepetals]

love poem

— summary: for years you’ve suffered for the longest time and for years they’ve hurt without understanding the true meaning behind it all. soulmates connected through the hearts, soulmates connected through the slightest touches, and when they finally meet their last soulmate, the seven gods vowed to themselves that they will love and protect you for the rest of their immortal lives

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, angst, soulmates!au, poly!au, gods!au, god of knowledge!namjoon, god of stars!seokjin, god of music!yoongi, god of sun!hoseok, god of spring!jimin, god of ocean!taehyung, god of hearth!jungkook

— word count: 29.0K

— warnings: mentions of death, mentions of war, minor character deaths

— prompt: "It won't be easy you know...trying to love me"

— a/n: i hope you guys haven’t forgotten the dear; sweet bubbies project. sorry i’ve been so slow on these requests but here is the second installment! for you bubs @hope122598​

Soft crispy crunches follow your footsteps as you walk among the snowy path, the wind seeming more restless than ever this morning. Little bits of snowflakes descend from the sky, falling and falling in an endless cycle for the snowy mountains will never come to understand what Spring looks like.

For days upon days and years upon years, you have always prayed to see what it will be like to live with warmth, in a home of hearth, in a shelter that can provide comfort and heat to your body and mind. But you know that as you walk up the path of the mountain, stairway long ruined since over many years ago, with the hood of your cloak constantly hoping to leave your head and the wind howling all around, wishing alone will only get you so far.

The morning sun brings no heat for you, icy particles kissing your cheeks from time to time and leaving you bright red from how cold it is.

But you're used to this.

It's okay. 

Fog escapes your lips as you huff to catch your breath once you make it up, basket of firewood covered with a blanket safely secured in one hand, and you are met with a wooden archway that is so close to toppling over. But it remains firm as ever, as if its fragile looks is only just a façade and that it should look this way.

You walk under it, paying no mind with no fear of it collapsing, and follow the path that flows into your village. White blankets cover the wooden roofs of the abandoned homes and you hear something falling off and hitting the ground with a thud.

Another wooden platform destroyed.

Everything is silent saved for the song of the wind and the crunches of the snow under your footsteps. But you hear the distant sound of the children's voices echoing in your memories. They laugh and shout at one another, giggling about as they jump into piles of snow or slide down a hill on a wooden sled that their fathers have made them. You hear the distant chiding of their mothers who is angry they aren't bundled up for warmth, missing a hat, missing a glove or scarf. You hear the aunties and uncles speaking to one another in cheery voices as you pass along each house, empty and left alone.

They ask each other upon how their days are, whether they have wood to spare, whether their homes are warm enough for their families, whether they have any heated water to share. The young adults complain about the howling wind, grunting and grumbling as they open their doors only to quickly shut it as they tighten the strings around their hood to keep it firm upon their heads. They huff as they stuff their hands into their pockets, frowning and pouting with baskets hanging upon their arms because they had been asked to gather woods from down the mountain.

You don't see the elderlies in your memories but you know they're here, in their homes, tucked in safe and warm and telling old tales of stories upon stories whether real or folktales. The little ones will gather at their feet near the fireplace, excited and anxious about what stories they will hear today.

You see the smoke from chimneys, you see the homes in good shape, and as you stand in the middle of the village's center where festivals, celebrations, and gatherings are often met at, you turn around to take a good look at the village that used to be so lively and filled of energy.

Now gone.

Replaced with broken houses, torn roofs, shattered windows, doors left ajar and broken. The shadows of the villagers, the ghost of the children who runs around in front of you, shouting at one another, the adults laughing and conversing, the teens rebelling and pranking, and the elderlies telling stories where the big bonfire should be...dissolves away from your memories.

Left only with the distant sounds of their laughter. Echoing and echoing in your ears.

As if it is still there, their precious lives, only for you to be reminded all over again that no, you are alone. No one else survived the horrid attack that came unexpected and terrifying.

The memories are still so clear in your head, the shouting, the screams and cries for mercy, the parents begging for the lives of their children to be spared, the howling dogs that would bark nonstop, and the blood that spilled so much that fateful day. Your mother kept you safe in your own home, ran out there pretending she has no daughter while you remained under the basement, muffling your cries as you watched from the window of the slaughtering of your tribe.

You heard loud footsteps then, the crashing and trashing of things, and had shattered a window in order to pick up its shard to stab yourself near your stomach, at a place you know will not bleed out too much and will not kill you.

You laid on the floor, hiding the shard away when the man kicked the door out of its hinges with a wild dog running in. He found you there, laid as if someone had already came to stab you to your death, with you only in your harsh breathing to pretend as if you have indeed just died. But the dog came over to you, sniffing, and you knew that he knew that you were still alive. That you were only pretending.

The quickening of your rapid heartbeat tells him so and it only grows worse so he barks at the owner and you prayed so hard that the man could not understand him.

And he didn't, so he left you, believing someone had already taken care of you and demanded for the dog to follow him out. You held your breath even as they both left the scene.

And even then you remained where you were, knowing there was no other place to run to and just letting fate decide what to do with you. If someone else barges in and finds that you have only faked your death then you would accept his sword at your neck, your heart, wherever he desires.

So here you stand in the middle of a village, a tribe that was once so alive and filled of beautiful people and the warmth of a lovely fire.

Now all locked in the memories of the wind. Gone for you to never see again.

.

.

.

The God of Spring stands a few feet away from the wisteria that lays in the center of the celestial palace, watching as its colors of lilac, blush, and the skies, are only growing a bit weaker as the years pass by and by. It hasn't been in its full bloom and glow since the moment Jimin had grown it hundreds of years ago. Throughout the many years upon finding his fated ones, he's seen the tree grow taller and bigger, so very close to reaching its maximum goal if only he could find one more thing it needs.

It's gotten so magnificent one would think this is its full bloom but the God of Spring knows that there is something missing.

Many leaves have fallen, scattering about like little petals all around the tree but the wisteria remains tall and firm. Yet time is running out and he knows that it will only last a few more years before the bloom will disperse and he himself will weaken.

"Jimin." The Spring God turns at the gentle call of his name and finds the God of Ocean by his side. He watches the tree with awe and wonder, a sight he has gotten used to throughout the years of his immortality. Although Taehyung finds the tree that represent their love so very beautiful, he also understands that something is not quite right. Not yet at least. "What is on your mind, my love?"

He can easily read the God's mind without needing to voice out the question but he feels the need to listen to his soulmate's sweet voice that always calms his waters down.

Jimin shifts slightly, brows creased as he catches a small petal falling from the vines and fluttering down to the marble floor, meeting its fate with the other petals that have already fallen. A breeze passes by from the opening circle that gives sunlight and rain for the tree to grow and he breathes in the fresh air, closing his eyes for a moment. "We must hurry, Taehyung," he tells his lover.

When Jimin takes his hand into his hold, Taehyung understands exactly what his soulmate is feeling at the touch. Jimin has allowed him to read his mind with the touch alone and he knows, he knows that Jimin is beginning to feel restless. The wisteria is only now beginning to wither in a slow passing of time but it will fall to its roots if nothing is done about it.

Taehyung understands that Jimin is afraid, worried, because he knows that there is still a missing piece of their puzzle that has yet to be discovered; their missing soulmate. A soulmate whom they have no idea of, a soulmate they know they must not have met yet because otherwise the wisteria wouldn't look so weak in Jimin's eyes. They must not be an immortal, a god or a goddess, they must not live up here where they are in the realm of the Gods.

But they have searched and searched and searched for years yet no village, town, nor kingdom holds the answer they are seeking for.

"Why must they be so hidden?" The Spring God questions with a deep sigh that makes him so tired. "It was so easy finding you all."

"Fate is not always the easiest," his soulmate reminds him and he nods, sighing again as he turns from the wisteria. "Seokjin has not found a solution yet," Taehyung answers his question before it is spoken aloud while they walk away from the celestial tree. "Jungkook has been feeling very cold recently."

"It must relate to Jungkook." The God of Hearth should not be shivering and feeling the cold get to him in such strong waves. He is meant to be a fireplace, warming up all that is around him, giving fire to the mortals down below.

"But we have searched the land of the mortals," Taehyung says, knowing how long both Seokjin and Namjoon, the Stars and Knowledge Gods, have worked to try and piece everything together.

"Perhaps we are overlooking something."

"And what do you suppose that is?"

Jimin doesn't know. All he understands is that they must find their last soulmate and they must find them soon. So he continues walking on past the door that leads out the center of the palace, brows still creased. "We must return to Earth again, Taehyung. They have to be there."

"How are you sure?"

He shakes his head, not truly understand the logic behind his thoughts. "I just have this feeling." Jimin stops walking and turns to look at the Ocean God with a conflicted gaze resting in his eyes. He takes his lover's hands and press them to his heart to let him feel his heartbeat. "Will you trust me, my love?"

Taehyung smiles. "With all that I have."

.

.

.

It is freezing when you walk into a home that had once been so lovely. Everything is dark now, windows no long a thing because they had all been shattered and thrown out when the raid happened several years ago. You have no money for yourself, knowing how wrong it'd feel for you if you took your mother's money or any of the villagers.

Sure they're gone but for you they are still living inside your heart, their souls roaming around in the village, watching over you, spending their wonderful lives all around the tribe.

You miss them all, you miss everything that had once belonged to the tribe, a small little village where no one should have been able to find. Yet fate is cruel and left you alone to live in a village that is ghosted and no longer in blossom. Sometimes you wonder how you are still alive, and why. Why you? Why not your mother? Or another adult? Or another teen? Maybe a child.

No.

A child would have not been able to survive and neither an elderly.

You heave out a deep sigh that fogs up, relieved for at least the walls of your house keeping the howling wind from freezing you further. You stare down at your fingers and take off the wet gloves.

You have to sew up a new one again. After all, wet clothes in the snowy mountains can never dry warm again, not with the situation you are living in.

You wonder whether given the ability to hunt would have made things easier for you. You'd be able to get your own food, wouldn't you? Instead of living off on herbs and vegetables that are so very hard to grow and find in the endless winter you have been placed in? You don't remember the last time you've had a proper meal, you don't remember the last time you've ever bathed in warm water, or was wrapped up in soft fury blankets, or seen the fire from a lamp.

There are no animals that roams around your village, not even the falcons or eagles fly up here. You are alone. Truly, truly alone.

A tribe that is kept hidden from the other humans, isolated, kept for no one to know it exists because that is how you all live. Everything was going well, a tribe built upon your ancestors for years upon years, only to be washed down by a raid no one was prepared for. Hence you cannot leave this place to try and find your own happiness, to try and find your own Spring. You are the only one left to keep its memories and traditions alive.

Though it is hard, it has been years. You aren't sure how many years you have left. You haven't spoken to anyone in years, haven't felt the touch of anyone since the last time being from the cruel wild dog.

You want to hold someone's hand, wrap your arms around them, have their arms wrapped around you. You want to be loved and you want to love. You want warmth from another man, you want to be touched, just...touched. Whether a small sensation from the tip of a finger or have it held around you. You miss having the advantage to just wake up and greet your mother, jumping her from the back and having her scold you for surprising her every time even though you know more than anyone that she doesn't truly mind it.

You miss her so much. You miss her smile, her gentle fingers brushing your hair away, her kind gaze as she'd look upon you, the crease in her brows as she'd worry for your health when you'd catch even the slightest cold. Your mother was only growing older by the day. You can still remember her falling ill, a turn of events on you to take care of her instead.

So you did.

You bathed her, brushed her soft hair, woke up early to cook her breakfast in the morning before she woke up, sewing both yours and her coats up, went out to collect firewood and herbs, made remedies to keep her health steady, did everything that you could to be a good obedient daughter.

She always worried you wouldn't have time to yourself, urging you to go to festivals or leave the house in general, telling you to go spend some time with your friends, maybe even find someone that has interest in you because she apparently knew there were a few boys in line waiting. You'd always laugh it off and shake your head, not caring about it because you were still so young. But your mother would insist, telling you she'd want you to be with someone that will take care of you well as you were taking care of her.

But you told her that all you needed was her and no one else.

She always frowned at your stubbornness but you weren't going to care for someone who just wanted you because of your face. You want someone to love you for you, past your flaws, to understand everything about you but still loving every part of it.

Mother called you a romantic, you told her that was how father was too and she'd laugh, saying "like mother like daughter."

Indeed.

Because when the raid came in, you asked her to go hide in the basement but she told you otherwise, screaming at your stubborn self, telling you that this is her dying wish. She doesn't care whether you will wed or not, whether you can be a good wife or not, doesn't care about anything except for your safety and protection. You told her you just wanted to spend her last moments with you.

So she held you in her arms, tears endlessly falling, kissing you on the head and whispered "I am here. Always."

And then, she pushed you into the basement and locked the doors.

After hours passed since you last heard the wild dogs fading away, you finally stood up on your feet to bravely leave your basement doors, clutching onto your abdomen with hissing pain.

You found your mother's dead body lying at the entrance, door left ajar, and sobbed and sobbed endlessly because she was no longer breathing and just laid lifeless. You took her into your arms, tears rolling, begging for someone to just make it all better even though you knew more than anyone that that will never happen. You rocked her in your arms for the longest times, forgetting about your own health with blood that still slowly oozes from your body.

Her precious bracelet that your father made for her lied on the floor beside her body, snapped into one single string with beads spread out. You went on to collect it and put it in your pocket, carrying your mother up away from the entrance door and laid her on the couch.

You left her to grab the herbs and remedies to treat your wound and took your cloak half an hour later, leaving the door of your house, and is met by the sight of blood and dead bodies laid on the floor of your village. You ran around, calling, shouting, for anyone to hear you. You barged into homes, rooms, basements, one after the other, calling uselessly for anyone. You walked a few miles away, calling and calling, screaming from the top of your lunges, wondering whether anyone had been dragged away and left there alone.

But there was no one.

No lives were spared.

The children, the poor children, laid alone and in the arms of their loving parents who tried to protect them. Couples held onto each other's hands in their last moments, the grandparents laid by the fireside that no longer runs with fire.

No one was spared. All, everyone, laid on the floor of your village. All of them left dead.

The traumatizing experience spares you no mercy because in the end, it is you that has to carry the bodies of your tribe, digging holes after holes in order to bury every single one of them. You had no wink of sleep, fingers cold and numb yet still forced to work hard and carry their heavy bodies. Your mother was the last of them all, body left spent after all that work, crying and crying endlessly because you could do nothing to protect them, not even one of them, and now they all lie dead under the ground.

All except you who was only seventeen years of age.

.

.

.

"Jungkook?" The God of Music is quick to hold the youngest God whose legs can't keep him steady on his foot. He shivers in Yoongi's arms, shaking, and tears are escaping his eyes before he can try to stop it.

"H-hyung.." Jungkook shudders, breath leaving fogs although the room itself is nowhere near cold. Yoongi can understand him without needing to hear words, a touch alone letting him read his thoughts in an instant. Jungkook tells him what today is, the same day that repeats every year and makes him extra cold though he has no reason why. His heart aches, fingers going numb, and head begins to pound.

The God of Hearth should never feel this way, he has always been powerful just as his soulmates, but this day, this particular day always comes around every year and as he comes close, he feels the shivers until the morning sun appears again and January 24 is here, making him the weakest at this day.

He believes that it relates to their last soulmate, a soulmate hidden from the world and no where to be found with no information except that they are still alive. Alive yet hurt.

"It hurts," Jungkook cries. It is not his pain that he is feeling, it is not his tears that are crying. These do not belong to the God of Hearth but to someone else. "It hurts so much, hyung." Yoongi holds him safe and steady in his arms but this time Jungkook cries his real tears as he leans into the touch of his soulmate, crying because he hurts knowing their last soulmate cannot feel this comfort and warmth for themselves. He begins to beat himself up, angry and frustrated that he can understand these feelings but cannot do anything to make his soulmate feel better.

"We'll find them," the God of Music promises as he presses a kiss to the youngest's head. "We'll find them."

He lets Jungkook know that Jimin believes they must be on Earth and Jungkook begins to think so too. He lets him know that Jimin and Taehyung are preparing to leave when Hoseok raises the morning sun in the mortal realm, that Seokjin and Namjoon will follow. And Jungkook lets him know that he wishes to go to.

He has to know, he has to finally find them, wherever they are.

.

.

.

When the morning sun awakes you, you sit up heavily from the cold, cold bed, shivering and letting out a deep sigh. Yesterday may be over but the memories still lies so vividly in your mind. You drag yourself out of bed, brushing your teeth, washing your face that makes you shiver again because everything is so cold. The kitchen greets you with an empty refrigerator that makes your brows furrow because your stomach growls and you are so hungry.

You sigh again as you head back into your bedroom to grab your cloak and wrap it around yourself, taking a straw basket that you weaved years ago with the help of a loving mother's hand, and put the hood on your head as you step out of your home.

The little children greets you in your memories, the ghost of the adults waving you good morning as you walk down through the memories of their lovely smiles, a few asking you to fetch them certain herbs and chicken eggs as well. You nod at their souls, smiling faintly and saying "Of course, I will be back with them."

A small little boy tugs at the sleeve of your dress and you stop to look down at the ghost of little Mingyu. He wishes to travel down with you but you shake your head, telling him you will be back soon to play with him. He pouts but upon your words, Mingyu doesn't go against you because he loves you like his own older sister.

When you pick up your feet again after bidding him goodbye to continue walking, your face falls as you walk past the wooden archway, chest tightening for a moment and nose thickening because you miss them all. You miss little Mingyu.

But you blink away the tears before it can freeze upon the cold wind, greeting the bright sun that shines above with a tight smile and walk down the little broken stairway made of leveled down snow that leads to the foot of the mountain.

"Maybe if I pray unto the God of Sun, he'll warm the mountain up," you sigh, "or the God of Hearth."

You look down at the empty basket that hasn't been filled for over an hour while your feet numbs from walking so long. No firewood, herbs, or food. You're starving and tired and it hasn't it gotten to noon yet. The slow passing of time makes you sigh at the growling of your stomach. You just want to eat and fall into a warm bed made of soft comfortable mattress and never have to know what the cold means.

But this is your life and although years passed, you still wonder how you're living on. Will you ever find another human to talk with for the rest of your life? The town almost a mile away has a few friendly smiles but it isn't the same as your village. After all, everyone knows everyone there, and you lived by taking care of one another.

You're just so, so tired.

.

.

.

"This..."

They stare at the wooden archway that leads into a village of homes that look as if no one has been here in ages. An abandoned ghost village. Yet they follow Hoseok in as he walks forward, eyes grazing over the broken windows and roofs, a few doors left open and off its hinges, and nothing but the sound of the howling wind and their footsteps are heard.

It's strange but no matter how empty this village is, they can still feel how beautiful life had once been to these mortals. It is a village that has been abandoned for years, no signs of life whatsoever.

"Why are we here, Hoseok?" Namjoon asks as he steps over some broken wood, his brows furrowing at the eerie echoing of the dead souls who had once lived here. It is never easy passing by a place that lets them know something horrible had occurred. They can easily hold the ground and watch the memories of what had happened with their powers but it feels too much to invade such intimate memories.

"I don't know," the God of Sun admits as he continues walking carefully with slow steps, his gaze soft and sad as he looks over everything. "The Sun told me there is still life here and we've visited many places already but we've never come here."

"It's abandoned."

"But you can still feel the life," he tells Taehyung. He knows they believe that perhaps he had only sensed life because a life did used to be here but Hoseok thinks otherwise. "There is a living soul here," he speaks, looking up at the sun for a moment, "she's seen it."

There is something so strange about this village, this tribe. Hoseok cannot understand it and he knows that he can easily retrace the past lives of this village but it feels wrong for some reason. He may be a God who has the ability to know and understand everything but this...this doesn't feel right at all. Not yet at least, and he cannot pinpoint what is it that draws him to this place, a feeling he's never felt with the places they've visited before.

When Jungkook looks around, the coldness lies in his heart, a feeling he has gotten used to since years prior ever since the first January 24th had hurt him. He takes slow steps with his hyungs behind him, carefully watching him and the village and wondering what thoughts are going on in his head. "It's strange but..." his eyes fall to the snow below him, footsteps hidden under the endless snow that continues falling and falling. He feels as if there are fresh footsteps just under the snow but even then he cannot erase the blanket to see it. "There is a life here," he says in a soft whisper.

"If our soulmate is really here," Jimin's eyes fall sad as it wanders all around at the snowy mountain of an abandoned village, his chest tightening with a heart that begins to ache, "they must have been oh so alone."

"Whatever happened here," the God of Music steps up to the center of the village that seems to hold the most memories of them all, sounds of music falling so distant to his ears, something he knows only lies in the past, "there are souls that have yet to be released."

A gasp leaves someone's lips and they are quick to turn around at the foreign voice, a sight that comes with a girl dressed in a dark blue cloak that they know must not be keeping her warm. Her eyes shake with fear, a basket that had fallen to the foot of her dress, hands pressed against her chest as she trembles at the sight of them. Her face pales, mouth drying, and they can hear the mortal's heart beating oh so rapidly.

"Forgive us," Seokjin announces as soon as he can before you can go into a panic. "We did not mean to intrude, is this your home?"

Your heart relaxes for a moment at his voice but you are still filled with fear. You haven't seen anyone in your village for such a long time, not since the raid, and you fear that they must be one of them. "I..I-If you wish to kill me, please do it quickly."

Oh.

Oh no.

Tears fall from your precious eyes and it hurts Jungkook as he shudders at the same time as you. Your eyes fall to him, a little intrigued, but still so, so fearful and he knows, he knows that you must have gone through so much with a heart that beats so rapidly at just the sight of men.

But he isn't a man, he is a God, a high and powerful God that can bend the Earth to its core if he simply wishes to do so. Those eyes of yours look so painful it hurts his own heart. The God of Hearth may have felt coldness before, just as the day before always being the worst of it all, but this...this feeling is a little more strange...foreign yet familiar at the same time.

"We are not here to kill you," he says. "We are Gods."

"...Gods.."

He isn't supposed to say so to hide their identity but it just feels right.

He steps up and the others follow a few feet behind. "I am the God of Hearth and we are looking for our last soulmate. We believe it to be a mortal."

You can tell they aren't normal humans. You can tell they aren't humans at all with the glowing aura all around them and how he calms your heart to a steadier beat at his voice alone. A celestial being. A God. Seven Gods right in front of you.

"No one else lives here," you tell the God of Hearth while his eyes never seem to leave yours as he continues walking forward. You don't step back for some reason, probably because you are too afraid to just leave and run away from a God. "I am the only one who lives here."

He hums. "I see that."

"There is a village about a mile away if you wish to check there."

"Have you not considered another option, dear one?" He asks you, snow crunching under his steps as he continues forward.

You shake your head slowly. "I highly doubt someone like me can even be worthy to be considered a soulmate to the Gods."

Jungkook steps up to you but he doesn't go any further to make sure you feel safe at a good distance. He holds his hands out for you and you watch, confusion displayed in your eyes before you look up at him again with a questioning gaze. "May I?" He simply asks.

You hesitate but this is a God asking you for something so you know you will offend him if you do not do as he asks. So you hold your hand out slowly with him so patient, just watching until you are ready to touch him. He hears the beat of your heart beating rapidly again but remains patient. When you finally allow him to hold your hand, the instant your skin meets him in a delicate touch, a vision falls into his mind.

He sees everything.

He sees the life of a little girl that had been born into a beautiful village and your sweet parents naming you Y/N. The village celebrates the birth of a child just as its always done, a tradition that will never fall away for as long as they are alive. He sees the cute pigtails on your head when you had enough hair for your mother to decorate it. He sees your loving parents that will do everything just to have their little daughter grow into someone precious and kind for the world to meet.

He sees you when you cried with your mother after your father's death, a little girl just twelve years of mortal age who should have never felt such responsibilities hanging off her shoulders at such a young age. But with time and your mother beginning to grow old, you have to step up to be the good daughter and tend to her, missing your own childhood despite how many times your mother tells you to go play while she sleeps. Sometimes she will pretend to have fallen into a dream just to see whether you have listened to her.

But you never leave your mother's side, only worrying for her in case you do leave and do not hear when she coughs and needs your help.

He sees you grow older and maturing to seventeen years old. You'll roll your eyes when your mother tells you to go out and find someone for yourself, telling her that you are too young to even think of marriage and laughing it all off though he can understand that deep inside, you do wish that in the future, not now, someone will come by to love and cherish you as you will love and cherish them.

The days are spent well with you occasionally leaving your home only for errands upon finding herbs, food, and fresh new firewood for your home. Jungkook sees a little boy named Mingyu who will try to sneak away behind your back, following you close behind when you'd walk down the mountain but you'll always catch him in the act. Some days you will allow him to accompany you, some days you will ask him to return home because it is too cold for him to be out.

Your village is lively and lovely, so different from how things look now. They will greet you when you come out and bid you goodbye when you return home. Everyone knows everyone, a tribe built up on a loving family. You rarely attend festivals and celebrations, however, always too busy tending to your sick mother.

But then he sees the one memory that you hate most of all.

He hears the loud barking of wild dogs in the distant, sees how you're begging your mother to hide in the basement and crying because she's telling you otherwise. She wants you to go in instead, knowing her life isn't worth fighting for anymore but that fighting this one last time will be her last mission in life. You cried in her arms when she held you, kissing you on the head, whispering soft words before pushing you into the basement and slamming the doors shut.

He sees your memories then, watching from the small window as your heart aches and numbs at the sight of the slaughtering. He sees you breaking a window, grabbing a shard and stabbing yourself for a pretend death when one of the men barges in with a dog beside him. He feels your fear, scared for your life, afraid of the dog. But you are left alone when the owner doesn't understand the barking of the wild dog.

He sees you as you're running around, screaming and shouting, calling for any survivors but no one, not even a soul, along with your mother and little Mingyu dead on the floors of your village. You're traumatized yet you still dig up holes after holes to bury your tribe in order for them to rest peacefully and not in vain. Your fingers go numb from the hard work and the freezing cold yet you never stop, going past days with no rest in between, tears endlessly falling and freezing under the cold snowy weather.

You haven't eaten a good meal in years, just seventeen years old having to carry the last remaining memories of your tribe, having to survive all on your own with no one by your side. Just seventeen years old having to become dependent on yourself. You learned to make your own clothes instead of just sewing to patch things up. Though it doesn't go well in the beginning, you learn the skills eventually as time passes. The water is always the coldest for you to wash and bathe in, your bed on a hard wood, no pillows, no warmth to keep you safe and secure.

Yet when Jungkook opens his eyes again, you have no hatred and vengeance in your heart, no sign of wanting revenge. The only thing he feels is your fear of your future and how you will continue surviving, questions swarming in your head as to why and how you are still alive after ten years of isolation. He has never met a human so selfless and kind with just the slight light of hope still left in her despite everything. You are afraid but you try not to show it and his heart hurts.

Jungkook turns to his soulmates behind him and they step up, surrounding you. They stand in a circle, fluttering their eyes closed and telling you silently that you must do so as well. Hands are placed upon your arms, soft, delicate and warm touches, and something strange and unfamiliar occurs.

You feel warmth surging through your body, a heat so warm you aren't sure whether this is real or not anymore. But it isn't just the warmth you are feeling, it's the feeling of walking on clouds, euphoria, head spinning with fairy lights and soft, soft ecstasy. It's so much more than the festivities of your tribe that celebrates many traditions, so much more than when you'd play around with little Mingyu who loves you to no end. It is sweet and delicate, fragile yet so strong and firm, not like the promise of your village that will one day be buried under the snow.

You see so many things, a beautiful celestial palace made of heaven lights. You see stars in one room, a whole room filled of the planets and galaxies of universes all around. You see a room filled with books upon books, a room of music, the soft blue tide of the vast ocean that stretches so wide and falls into the horizon, a sun that glows so bright in the sky, a home of warmth and hearth, and Spring. You see Spring for the first time in the life of a wisteria tree. It's petals flutters to the ground though the vines still holds firm and powerful, swaying gently and dancing to the soft whisper of the wind.

You see the life of the Gods before you. Meeting one another as if destiny has placed them in each other's paths. Soft smiles, soft hellos and goodnights, soft touches and soft kisses pressed against one another. A soft, soft love that whispers in their ears each passing day. When one is away they will feel empty, already missing one's presence the second they leave the palace grounds. Together they make each other stronger than any other Gods. Everyone around them looks up to them, bowing their ways, worshipping their presence for seven soulmates is much stronger than two souls.

Yet no matter how happy they are, there is still something missing. The wisteria may look divine but it is not in its full bloom, it is not as strong as it should be. The petals that falls off the vines hangs in vain and sadness, fluttering to the floor, still wishing and needing one last puzzle that is missing.

A missing soulmate.

You feel the aching in the God of Hearth's heart, how he will shiver on some occasions, the way he hurts the most on January 24th. And you think you understand what the means. January 24th is not a day that is happy for you, a day that is filled with grief and pain, a day that is the coldest out of any other day. You think you understand because the flame of the Hearth is a light that gives warmth to the mortals. But you have not been the warmest in the years that passed by since the raid. You think...perhaps...you understand.

"Do you understand?" You open your eyes to find them staring into your soul, and they can feel that you understand but have some doubts. "You are the one, my sweet precious mortal," the God of Knowledge holds your face in his hand and you find yourself consciously leaning into the touch. The warmth is nice. You love it so much you wish to cry. "You are our last soulmate."

"Will you accept us?" The God of Ocean asks. "Will you come home to us? Allow us to give you an endless warmth that shall never disappear?"

"To live an immortal life? Become an immortal yourself?"

"To never have to know what pain and hurting feels like ever again. To never feel afraid anymore."

"Will you let us protect you from now on? Give you a home, a safe, warm home."

"And let you meet the one thing you have always been waiting for. To let you see Spring."

Spring.

They can feel the way your heart skips a beat at the sound and Jimin smiles softly. You have always wished to see what Spring looks like, when the Winter will melt away and the birds will chirp and flowers will grow, blooming to their fullest and giving off such sweet scents. You want to smell the flowers, to feel the rain kissing your body, to see a rainbow, to go barefoot and feel the grass poking through the gaps of your toes. You want to lie on the ground, run around freely without heavy coats on you, to feel a breeze that will not make you shiver and have your nose growing red.

You want to be kissed by Spring, greeted with a beautiful welcome and never have to leave its warmth. You want it, you want to meet Spring.

But they can also feel the hesitation in your heart. You do not wish to leave your village like this, you're the only one left to hold its memories after all, the only one left of your tribe. They feel hatred and anger for the ones that have made you suffer for so long, to live alone in isolation and miss the feeling of someone touching you for a whole ten years. They want to hunt those humans down, their selfishness and greed for blood making them boil to serve them justice.

"I.." you speak up timidly, a little fearful that it won't be right to do so but Yoongi places a gentle hand on your head, soothing it gently.

"It's alright, little one. You will never offend us if you ever wish to speak."

You pick up your courage to look at the village before you. "I don't want to leave my home like this."

"There are souls of your tribe that is still roaming around, little one," Namjoon informs you and your head snaps to him, eyes brimming with tears and making him sad to see them.

"You can see them?" You ask, breath shaky.

He shakes his head lightly. "We can feel them. They are here, sweet one." He takes your hand into his hold as he gently brings you to the middle of the village before turning you so that you can face the grounds. "Their souls have been left broken and shattered but they've never given up hope because of you."

"Because of me?"

The God of Knowledge hums. "You've survived for so long trying to keep this place alive." He's seen the way you pretend everyone was still here, watching their ghosts through your memories and speaking to them as if they were still alive.

"They haven't been able to rest in peace," you realize with sad eyes.

"Don't worry," Seokjin steps up as he places a hand on your shoulder and watches the memories with you, "I can send them off now for you."

"You can do that?"

He nods, humming. "All they've ever wanted was for you to live as if you are living again. And now they see hope." Through him. "They can go on now because their little Y/N can find something worth living for."

A tear falls from your eye and Namjoon squeezes your hand in a gentle manner.

"It will be alright," he tells you softly. "You can bid your goodbyes now."

All your ten years of living alone you thought that your tribe would wish for you to keep the tradition in your memories, to never let it die. You never knew that what they truly wanted, what they all wanted, was for you to live again. So a few more tears escape your eyes as your chest tightens and a hand reaches out into the open. You pretend that someone has taken your hand, your mother, with little Mingyu just beside you and the rest of the village behind them. You pretend that they are smiling down at you, softly bidding their goodbyes.

You can hear your mother whispering for you to be happy now and you can hear little Mingyu telling you to smile again.

You nod at them, closing your hand into a small fist. "Goodbye," you say and when Seokjin, the God that holds the galaxies, close his eyes, you can feel the souls leaving one by one, drifting off to the skies with little waves made at you.

They can finally rest in peace at last.

"Come here," the Sun God holds a hand out for you a few seconds later and you go to him with no hesitation, letting him take your hand. "You are hurt, my dear. Can you close your eyes?" You do as he asks and feel soft lips pressing against your forehead seconds later.

Hoseok releases his magic to transfer into your body, letting you feel a warmth rising, a warmth that makes you feel so light on your feet. It runs through your veins, healing the numbness of your fingers and toes, collecting the water from where your body stays cold, lifting the freezing feeling from you and replacing it with the warmth of the sun. Wherever there had been scars on your body, he heals as well. The scar that rests near your stomach is lifted as if it had never been there before and when he leans away, you still feel so light on your feet.

"Thank you," you say with a slight blush forming on your soft cheeks when you lift your eyes to find him so close.

Hoseok smiles, understanding through the touch that you find him attractive, an information he finds convenient because you yourself is so beautiful he can hardly believe his eyes. You have the beauty not meant for a human, a beauty that glows so delicately he doesn't believe anyone can be worthy to look upon you. "Of course, dear one," he tells you and presses another kiss to your forehead, this one being actually meant to be a kiss.

Your cheeks warm a little more at the gesture and he chuckles, loving your reactions to every little thing.

"Are you ready, my love?"

My love.

You red at the soft name from the God of Music and think that perhaps you will have to get used to such things. So you nod at him and Yoongi takes your hand. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you do so with no question.

Something shifts under your feet and you can feel your surrounding changing despite not actually seeing. When Yoongi tells you you can open your eyes again, you are met with a bright world just in front of you. The memories that belongs to them rushes back to you and you realize this is their home, their palace. It is so divine you can hardly believe your eyes. The castle stands so tall with a magnificent garden that surrounds its grounds.

You breathe in the wonderful scent and almost sway on your feet.

Spring. It smells like Spring.

You rush forward to walk up the steps of the castle and look back as you skip in, sounds of giggles escaping your lips and making their own hearts so warm. The sight of you so happy at the little things alone makes them smile as they walk in, following the curious little mortal who wishes to see everything. But they know that you will have time to see everything later. Right now you're tired and need to rest.

"My love." You turn at the call of Taehyung's voice and skip back to him, ears attentive. The God of Ocean gaze fondly at you as he lifts his hand to tuck your hair behind your ears. "You are tired, my sweet angel." He hears your thoughts, the embarrassment of how you must look with your damp clothes and messy hair from the strong wind of the Winter mountain and pets you on your head. "You can wash first," he says and your eyes widen a little with a little moment of confusion before he feels you understand that you are soulmates now and they can read your thoughts through just simple touches.

"Okay," you say with your sweet voice. He doesn't think he will ever get over such music to his ears.

"Come now." He takes your hand and leads you down the grand hall of the castle where you will be spending the rest of your life in.

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The water is so different from the freezing cold back on the mountain. It is so warm and gentle you almost feel like falling asleep in the bath. It's grand, a bathtub so large and you think that perhaps the Gods share their bath times together. You blush at the thought of possibly needing to do that as well, not yet ready at the moment but knowing that in the near future you will one day bathe with them.

You giggle to yourself thinking of it and submerge your head into the water as if you should not have thought of such things. But you know that it's fine, you are soulmates after all, connecting in ways simple relationships of the mortals will never come to feel and understand. It's a nice thing you know you will love to get used to as you swoop up a few rose petals in your hand, breathing in the rose scent bath and laying your head back.

What a lovely life you know you will never get tired of.

Just hours prior you were freezing cold as you wandered the grounds of the mountain, trying to collect herbs and firewood, trying to find food. Nothing comes easy living in the mountain especially while living in isolation so some days you would have to go to sleep shivering so hard, some days you would have to suffer through fevers and other health risks, and some days you would have to starve for a few days until you can find food to eat.

Looking back on the memory not far back yet, you feel a rushing fear crawling down your spine as you think that perhaps this can all be a dream, just a wishful thinking, a daydream, and you'd wake up to the coldness of your lonely home all over again.

You've had dreams before, of living with warmth, living in Spring, and woke up only to fall sad all over again as you realize it had all been a dream. But right now this feels too real to be a dream yet at the same time, too true to be true, and you hate how you're so frightened of having to go back to your old life. Will that ever go away as time passes? Or will you wake up thinking time did passed when this had indeed all been a dream?

You let out a soft sigh as you think about the possibilities, brows furrowing with a sadness that hurts your heart.

But then you hear soft music playing, the sound of a beautiful harp as if the God of Music had just heard your thoughts and wishes to ease you from it. Your heart flutters as you look around, face brightening all over again wondering if Yoongi is thinking of you right now. He must be, right? A few butterflies untangle themselves in your tummy and begin to flutter freely.

Oh how you hope this is all a reality and not just a wishful dream.

The harp continues on and on, softly wanting to lure you to sleep but you know that you must get out first and not fall asleep in the bath.

When you open the doors to the bedroom timidly, head poking out shyly because you know they're in there, they smile at the sight of you and silently welcome you in. You have on a sheepish smile as you walk in dressed in a white bathrobe with wet hair and looking so pretty and clean.

Your skin glows with a fresh flowery scent and they almost fall breathless at the sight of your beauty right before them. They knew you were beautiful the moment they laid eyes on you but now that you're fresh and out of the bath, they can't believe you can look even more beautiful.

Jimin walks up to you and runs a towel along your head to dry your wet hair, fearing that you may catch a cold if it isn't dried right away. Sure you may be used to the cold but they still feel overprotective of you and wish for nothing to happen to you. You're their precious girl now, after all, and they will never let anything bad happen to you again. You've suffered for far too long living all alone and just trying to survive through the cruel reality of life.

When he sees the soft pink on your cheeks, Jimin smiles as he realizes you must have read his thoughts. "You are so beautiful, my love." Your heart flutters under his gaze and words and Jimin can't believe they have gotten such a precious soul to be their last piece of the puzzle. "We have to get you your own clothes but for now will you fit mine?"

You nod at his offer and suddenly feel a flutter of the wind before you lightly gasp down at yourself, a sight of the God of Spring's royal robe wrapped around your body to replace the white bathrobe. "Wow," you say in awe and they chuckle at how easily you are astonished. It's a little big on you, the robe falling to the floor and hiding your feet, sleeves a little too long and sliding off just slightly from your shoulders. But it is a sight that makes Jimin excited seeing you in his clothes.

He takes your chin in his hand for you to look up at him and presses a kiss right on the tip of your nose. "You must be hungry." Right on time your stomach growls and you lick your lips, causing him to grin.

They feed you a meal that is laid out on a tray, not allowing you to use your hands for one second and insisting to do the job instead. They spoil you with so many things that in the end, you become so full and have to push their hands away before they can feed you some more. But you let Namjoon hand you a fruit before you fall back into Jungkook's chest.

"Sleepy?" He senses your energy, watching as your eyes flutter drowsily and runs a finger down to the tip of your nose. "Sleep, my dear, you've had such a long day."

You take ahold of his hand, small fist wrapping around his forefinger after grabbing the courage to snuggle in close and the God of Hearth chuckles as they all coo. "But what if I wake up back on the mountain?" You worry and he understands that you have been thinking of it back in your alone moment in the bathtub. Jungkook knows then that it is not a good idea to leave you alone for long, not when you'll begin to question whether it is right for you to truly be happy because he knows that you deserve all of this.

A happy life, to be loved and cherished.

"I'm scared," you whimper though your eyes are drowsy and you let out a yawn soon after.

"Trust me, my love, we will be right here when you wake up."

"Promise?" You ask in a small voice.

He hums. "I promise."

"Kiss me goodnight?" They chuckle and does as you ask, placing soft kisses upon your face and head, missing the one spot that leaves your lips. But you're fine with it. Not yet, it will come with time when you are a little more comfortable.

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You hear the morning birds chirping for the first time and that is what excites you awake.

It comes out so soft to your ears at first, you lying on your side with someone holding you from behind and Yoongi right in front of you. The bed is large enough to hold many people and you blush under their closeness before you fall distracted by the song of the birds. A light gasp leaves you when you continue to hear it, its chirping falling so gentle and sweet so you sit up and take Seokjin's arm off you to crawl off the bed.

Your light footsteps leaves you past the curtains and onto the large balcony that greets you with the kisses of the gentle breeze. You grin brilliantly as you lean onto the railing, back arching forward as you breath in the sweet smell of the warm air. Before you lies the crystal ocean that goes on and on past the horizon where the sun lies up above. It shimmers under the light of the morning sun, sparkling like gemstones and you realize that no, you haven't woken up to a freezing cold and damp blanket with the howling wind of the mountain greeting you awake.

You have no need to prepare yourself to head out into the cold, trying to find herbs and firewood, trying to find food. You have no need to worry about that anymore because this is your life now. Greeted by the lovely breeze, greeted by Spring, greeted by love.

Someone comes up behind you and you jump for a moment before feeling his arms wrap around you from behind, his familiar hands welcoming you in with a head nuzzling into your neck before simply resting right on your shoulder. "Good morning, sweet love," he greets in a low husky voice to tell you that he had just woken up. A smile curls along his lips as he reads your thoughts of how much you love his deep voice.

"You kept your promise."

"Of course," Jungkook chuckles. "This feels nice, does it not?"

You hum, leaning back closer to his hold. "It's so different. So warm."

"I feel better too," he admits and reminds you through his thoughts of how the God of Hearth also had to suffer a bit because his heart connects to you in a way more special compared to the rest. The Hearth's flame is meant for the mortals after all.

"I'm sorry," you tell him and Jungkook frowns.

"No, my love, you have no need to apologize. This was never your doing."

"But it must have been difficult hurting and not knowing why."

He turns you in his hold so that you can face him, face leaning in close with a pout. "You suffered so much more than I," he reminds you as he brushes your hair away to the side. "I knew you were suffering, we all did, but it took so long to finally find you."

"That isn't your fault. I lived in isolation in a village that should have never been found."

"I only wish we had found you sooner."

You shake your head lightly. "Nothing can be done to turn back time now."

Oh how Jungkook loves you already. You have such a kind soul, a selfless soul, with no darkness in sight despite all that had happened to you. He wonders how you were able to do this, held onto hope for so long, to spend ten years all alone in a place that kept you so cold and freezing, lacking the ability to touch another being, visited by no one but the knocking of the restless wind outside your home.

He wants to make it all better, to help you heal and grow, and to only hold onto precious happy memories from now on.

When you look back at him with a sweet gaze, he knows that you can understand him despite no words said. You can read him too and Jungkook smiles as he rest his forehead against yours, just holding you there as the two of you revel in the soft breeze that passes by. You can feel cold no longer, nothing but a soft warmth that the God of Hearth holds with him.

When the afternoon comes, you're wandering around the castle, watching through the memories of your Gods to remember what room lies where. You've ran through the magnificent garden barefoot, smelling the scent of all the flowers that were grown, touching the petals and feeling how soft it is under your touch. The grass tickles your feet, the stone paths rubbing you gently. A fountain sits at the center of the garden, hedges displayed all around sort of like a maze.

Everything is green and colorful with the robe of Jimin's dragging behind you as you become the curious little fella who runs around everywhere because everything fascinates you. You travel down to the ocean next, feeling the white sand under your bare feet and giggling as you touch and run from the water that comes and goes. Seashells are found all around the beach, little crabs running around and crawling into your palm when you let it. It does you no harm though you have heard stories of all crabs being able to pinch anyone that touches them.

Perhaps the humans really do not know much. But then again, maybe you should not have trust a tribe that only knows what Winter looks like. You laugh to yourself thinking about it and then become a little more curious as you recall the library you saw in your memories. It must belong to Namjoon, the God of Knowledge.

You stand up from the beach, letting the little crabs crawl back down onto the sand and wave them goodbye before you leave for the castle again. You run through a path with trees at two sides, reminding you that you should check out the wisteria as well after the library. You retrace your steps as you look into your memories to understand where the books are, skipping around the halls of the castle care freely with shoes now on, staring at the tall ceiling up above, the beautiful crystal glass windows in designs of each God or of plants and simple objects.

When you open the familiar looking doors from your memories, you gasp at the sight of the thousands of books placed on shelves upon shelves, leading into the room and looking like an endless hall. It looks so much more enchanting than what you had seen in the memories just as the garden and the ocean. You cannot believe there are so many books, almost every one of them you know you have never read.

"Well hello there my dear." You jump at the voice before understanding that it belongs to the God of Knowledge as he emerges from a shelf that had hidden him. He holds an open book in hand with a sweet smile resting on his face, charming dimples displayed upon his cheeks and making your heart skip a beat.

"Namjoon," you sigh as you skip up to him. "The gardens are so beautiful! Jimin created it, didn't he? And the ocean, it's so vast and magnificent I cannot believe such beauty exists in this universe. I know there are so many other places to visit but I don't know how I can look at them all before growing exhausted by running all over."

He laughs as he holds your face, fingers tracing down your temple and down your jaw. "My love you have all the time in the world to explore. You must remember to not exhaust yourself so fast."

"There's just so much to see," you beam before letting out a gasp as if you had just recalled something. "I want to read!"

He chuckles fondly. "Do you now?"

"Mn!"

"Come here." He takes your hand, not needing to voice out what books you would like to read because he can already read your mind. So he leads you down to the center of the library where lays a circle of shelves. He walks you to the middle, holding onto your waist steady as you bite against your lower lip with anticipation, already understanding even before the floor lifts into the air upwards because you have seen it in the memories.

The lift brings the two of you up to where a flooring hovers in the air, supported by fluffy white clouds that falls past your hands but will support your weight when you step onto it. You giggle as you feel the clouds on your feet before letting Namjoon sit you upon a comfortable chair shaped in a ball and made of clouds. He hands you a book taken out of thin air.

"If there is anything else you need, just call me."

You nod eagerly before leaning your back into the chair and open up to the first page of the book.

You're addicted in no time and spend hours upon hours forgetting about everything else as you dive into the world of imaginations created on pieces of paper.

"My love?" You hear him when you are on your fifth book, humming softly to indicate that you hear him but your eyes remain on the little words displayed on the pages of the book. Namjoon sighs. "Come now." You pout. "It is time for dinner, sweetheart."

"Just...one more chapter."

He knows what that sounds like and shakes his head as he walks up to you, taking the book away and having you whining after it. The God of Knowledge chuckles at how adorable you are and mark the page you are on before closing it shut. You pout again but he presses a kiss to your head and makes you blush. Namjoon loves your little reactions to simple romantic gestures. "Come now," he repeats and holds his hand out.

This time you do not protest.

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"Go on, try them on."

You collect the dresses in hand and they watch as you head for the bathroom only to pause in your steps and turn back with a sheepish smile.

"What is it?" Hoseok asks.

"Will you dress me instead?" Heat blooms upon your face when their eyes widen and you realize what they think you mean by that and is quick to stutter through. "N-not like that! I meant will you..uh...u-use your powers? You know, like how Jimin dressed me in his robe?"

You are so adorable when you're flustered and a blushing mess because you aren't used to relationships like this. The only thing you've been exposed to in this life is a beautiful love of a village and the parents that had raised you. You've known nothing about loving a man, was never able to be given that privilege because your tribe had gone before anything could truly happen, before you could even think about trying to find another who could protect and love you. So of course you are shy when you're around them but they know more than anyone that this is alright, you're okay, and they will love and cherish you in place of the loneliness that had bloomed over the past ten years.

So when Taehyung stands before you and you shy away, he does not mind it, knowing one day you will come around to it. He caresses your face for a moment, reading your thoughts filled of embarrassment and letting you read him to let you know that this is fine, this is alright and he does not mind anything. You are soulmates after all, meant for one another and written under the stars. You have no need to shy away under their gaze, free to speak your mind, and that even if you did mean what they had initially thought, they would dress you still.

But he tells you that he understands you are not ready just yet and lets you know that this is fine, this is alright. You can take as much time as you need, as much as you want, and none of them will ever mind.

His feelings allow you to calm, blush slowly falling away and Taehyung smiles at the sight of your shoulders falling back down to your sides. He snaps his fingers and you feel the flutter of the familiar wind just as the first time it was done to you and they watch as the dress falls onto your skin. It hugs you perfectly, soft golden shimmers falling all the way to the floor with beautiful yellow petals decorated almost all around.

You are a sight they have been blessed with, a beauty too perfect for the eyes to even dare see. They find themselves so lucky to have someone like you as their last soulmate, a lovely pretty lady with such a gentle heart too pure for the world.

"You are truly beautiful, my love." You blush again at Seokjin's words who holds a fond gaze upon your face.

"Mmn," Hoseok hums, "but as much as we'd like to stay and just stare at you all day, we must leave."

Your brows crease slightly as you look up at him. "You're all leaving?"

"Hoseok and I," Seokjin tells you as he strokes your cheek to ease your little worries, "the rest will be here."

"Where are you going?" You ask.

He looks at the Gods for a brief moment before gifting you a small smile. "To give justice to the ones that were the cause to your pain and suffering."

"Oh." You shiver and he can feel your fear and the slight aching that reaches your heart.

"Do not worry, my love," Hoseok says as he walks up to your other side to take your hand and kiss the back of it. "We will take care of everything from now on, alright?"

They let you know that they do not love violence, that they would much rather deal with things with words but when time comes, some things are meant to play out with violence if needed. They tell you that they will deal with this logically and not of blind anger and you nod at their unspoken words, head leaning against Seokjin's touch and squeezing Hoseok's hand lightly to let them know that you trust them to make the right decisions.

"We will be right back," the eldest tells you and you nod.

When they disappear to transport themselves away, you're still slightly conflicted as the memories begin returning. "Come here," Yoongi encourages with soft words as he holds out a hand to you. "When was the last time you've heard music?"

Besides that time in the bathtub it has truly been far too long. So you let him whisk you away from the bedroom and into a room that you had once seen in the memories.

Yoongi's grand music room is divine. Instruments are displayed in perfect order, harps and pianos and the violins and all sorts of musical instruments, even some you have never seen before in your life. You are from the mountain after all, and your tribe hasn't really come to understand and seen much but you've seen a few common instruments in the picture books the elderlies would tell stories upon.

He takes you up a flight of stairs made of glass, spiraling up towards what looks like the ceiling but you know that he is bringing you to some place a little more special as you have seen in the memories. The stairs lead up to the roof where you walk onto the platform of the tower made of pillars that circles the floor and lets you see down the grounds of the palace and past it, a sight much more than the balcony in the bedroom.

You are so high up you feel like you might fall but with Yoongi behind you as you hold onto a pillar and look down, you know that you are safe. You can see almost everything. The ocean, the outline of the gorgeous garden surrounding the castle, how enormous the castle is, and an enchanting forest that surrounds the palace grounds.

"The more I visit these memories in real life, the more speechless I become because everything is just so...breathless!"

The God of Music chuckles as you spin around to feel the wind rush around you, flaring your dress out and making you look like a fairy. He sits on a little stool, fingers beginning to pluck the strings on the harp and you fall silent as you sit down to watch Yoongi, eyes fluttering close after a moment just to hear the sound of the beautiful music playing as the wind carries it from room to room and over the ocean and forest that surrounds the palace grounds.

It's magical, every note perfectly played and echoing out into the world for all to hear.

This is the music of the Gods.

.

.

.

Yoongi has to go somewhere after a while so you are left alone to yourself, happily skipping down the halls again in trying to see where your feet will lead you first; the wisteria or the galaxy room that belongs to Seokjin. Both rooms you truly want to see and knowing you have plenty of time yet too excited to wait.

You walk into a grand open space before blindly taking a right without looking back into the memories to know where you are going. Sometimes being lost is the best way to discover new things, your curiosity only getting the best of you as you giggle about in the halls. But then you feel a presence and stop walking, brows furrowed slightly with confusion and curiosity, wondering whether it is one of the Gods.

Until you hear a bark and fear crawls down your back as you turn and see a sight that fears you most of all.

When they hear the scream, they are quick to transport themselves to you in an instant with Jimin wrapping his arms around you and holding your face against his chest. You shake in fear, crying into his protective hold as Jungkook steps up to the guard dog whom they have simply forgotten was still around. You're afraid of dogs after those wild ones had been the ones to track your village down and almost kill you along the rest of your tribe. So he signals for it to leave as quickly as possible, the dog a little confused he had scared someone but disappearing at his master's order.

He turns back to you when it's finally gone for you to finally relax but as they watch you shaking in Jimin's arms and refusing to look up, their heart breaks at the sight. Jimin can understand your thoughts, mind retracing back to the memories on the day it all crashed down for you. He sees you reminded of when you were down in your basement, bleeding out, faking your death as the dog walked over and sniffed at you.

You can hear the continuous barking as it tries to tell its owner that you are still alive, that you're just faking your death. It growls your way when its owner shouts at it to follow him and you can still feel its eyes on you even as it leaves.

Jimin runs his hand up and down along your back, whispering soft soothing words to help you calm, to remind you that you are alright now, that they are here and nothing can harm you ever again. You know, he understands that you know, but you're still afraid of everything being just a dream and that one day you will indeed wake up from this beautiful world. Jimin holds you tightly in his arms, brows furrowed, meeting the gaze of Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon who shares the same conflicted thoughts and anger for what you had to go through.

Their precious girl, their precious soulmate who suffered so much because of human greed and the inability to feel as they do not hesitate one tiny bit upon killing a whole tribe made of small warriors, children, women, and elderlies who never hoped to ever fight in wars.

They can only pray for Seokjin and Hoseok to hear their anger and do well upon punishing the people that had done this to you.

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.

.

You asked them to leave you be so that you can remain alone for a while. Of course the Gods weren't going to allow you without complaint, trying to convince you otherwise as they worry for you and although you felt touched, you shook your head then, too tired to argue and just wanting to be left alone because you are so used to dealing with everything by yourself. So you walk around the castle again, footsteps now heavy and slow, just letting your feet carry you to wherever. It's isolating and lonely, a feeling you hadn't felt for a few days, returning with melancholy and fear.

You don't know what to do, how this will all work out, why you have even become a soulmate of seven powerful and loving Gods too sweet for their own goods. You don't deserve this, you deserve to remain where you were, back on the mountain, trying to survive on your own.

You can still feel the numbness of your fingers, your aching feet as it walks and walks, trying to find just simple things in order to live on each day. You can still hear the howling of the wind as it passes by and by, the snowflakes that falls endlessly from the ongoing Winter skies, the ghost of a village that had once been so lovely and full of life. Everything was so wrong then, to grow old as a seventeen years old mortal, crying and crying yet having the need to pick yourself up because you knew crying wasn't going to bring anyone back. You had to stand up, to pick up the shovels, to dig and bury, to wipe your tears away and suck it all up because of the humans that knew no difference between love and hate.

Still you never felt any vengeance towards them, just fear and pain because they could not understand to care or have a heart. The world is a scary placed filled with scary people and frightening things that will visit your sleep and taint your lovely dreams.

You know this is wrong, to run away and try to face your problems alone when you have soulmates, Gods who just wants to make it all better. You know it is wrong to take that away from them, to shut them out, and to put up a wall. But you are afraid to feel happy, knowing it will never last forever and that one day, even if this is all true, perhaps this will all end. You are afraid to give into the love, to let them take care of you. What if they find something within you that they do not particularly like? Would you have to change? Do you have to be perfect? They are Gods after all and you are just a lone human walking in the heavens.

Why are you here? Why have you tried to be happy when you know you cannot?

Something falls onto the foot of your dress, a flutter, a fluttering petal, then another. You look up, eyes trailing the path of the little petals that the wind has carried to your feet and there, right in front of you lies the one beautiful thing that had struck hard in the memories the Gods had given onto you.

A wisteria.

You remember how the Gods will visit this room of the celestial tree lying in the center of the palace, a circle opening roof lying on the top to give it its sunlight and rain when it needs it. Its leaves and petals fall around the foot of it, the wind carrying it to flutter a few feet away. When the Gods come, they will reach out and give it the power it needs in order to grow strong, the God of Spring being the most frequent guest since he had been the one to grow it in the first place. But you know how their love have made the tree stronger with just one simple touch. As each new soulmate is found, they will visit the tree and touch its vine, releasing their energy to the tree and helping it to grow to its max.

And you are the last one, the remaining soulmate that will make it grow into its full blossom.

A hand reaches out hesitantly, head tilted slightly to the side with wonder, and you see the way a vine begins to reach out as well. But just as you're about to let it wrap around your hand, you take your hand back to fall behind you.

Afraid.

"Why do you falter?" You hear the God of Spring from behind you, knowing it is him without needing to look back. His footsteps walk towards you but stops halfway. "I know you asked us to leave you alone but I cannot, my love. I know you are still frightened."

You do not say a thing for a while, just staring at the tree before you with thoughts running all over. He wishes he can read your mind but he will need to touch you for that and right now he isn't sure if he is welcomed to do so or not. So Jimin remains where he is, giving you a safe distance in case you absolutely do not want him around. Perhaps he should leave, let you be, but Jimin worries that the horrible thing your mind may lead you to think will only hurt you more and he does not wish to see you in any more pain.

"It won't be easy you know..." you say in a soft, soft whisper.

His brows furrow, wondering what you mean.

"...trying to love me."

Jimin cannot take it no longer so he steps up in front of you to look you straight in the eyes, his gaze serious and filled with pain. Not because you said he couldn't love you but because you think it will take so much effort just to love you. You, the sweetest most kindest and selfless soul he has ever met, someone who doesn't wish death upon the ones that made you suffer for so long, someone who only wishes the enemy could learn to love rather than getting vengeance on them. You who was only a teen when her tribe was murdered. You who was forced to grow old and pick yourself up when you were hurting the most, seeing the dead bodies of your family, carrying their bodies, burying them into the grounds of the mountain.

Jimin hurts because you do not see worth within yourself, he hurts because you cannot see yourself living a happily ever after, you who is too afraid to love and be happy because you are afraid it will backfire and your story will end with pain and suffering.

He takes your hand, pressing it against his chest to let you understand all the emotions he is feeling. He lets you understand his pain, his frustration and anger towards the ones that have made you see yourself in such darkness, and lets you understand that no, no it will not be difficult. It will be the easiest thing in the world.

"Do you know why?" He asks you. "Do you know why it will be the easiest thing in the world?" He feels that you don't so Jimin continues with tears the prick in his eyes and falls before he can blink them away. Your heart hurts at the sight and begin to cry yourself but Jimin is going to tell you. "Because I have already fallen in love from the moment I laid my eyes on you."

You fall perplexed. "But...you didn't know I was your soulmate then."

"I knew," he tells you. "I knew from the first moment you looked at me with fear. I knew since I stepped foot into your village. I loved you then, Y/N, whether you believe me or not. I loved you and I love you still. It may have only been just a few days but I love you so much."

"I do too."

The two of you look at the voice of the God of Hearth who had lean against the entrance way, picking himself up when you meet his gaze and begins to walk your way.

"I loved you before we even met," he says, "loved you from the first moment I was hurting because of the pain that connects us. My flame comes from Earth and the only way it can truly grow strong is if you are safe and warm. I have never felt stronger in my entire lifetime, I have never felt such flame burning in my heart. But even before I knew who you were, I knew I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, give you a home, give you my hearth."

"There is no ocean vast enough, no ocean deep enough to compare our love." The God of Ocean walks in from another entrance, voice deep and serious.

"There are so many chapters left for us to unfold," says the God of Knowledge. "There are so many more stories to come, for us to explore, for us to learn and understand one another."

"But as we've said before," Seokjin stands beside Jimin, "we have all the time in the universe to get to know one another."

"You do not have to love us now, you do not have to feel the same," Hoseok tells you.

"But just know," Yoongi says, "just know that we love you."

They see the tears in your eyes, how it descends, the way it escapes and trails down your precious cheeks, hanging along your chin before eventually dripping down. You sob as they hold onto you, soft touches to let you know that they are not lying, that everything is true and that they will make it better, they will make it right. If you'd let them, they will stop at nothing just to see that precious smile on your face, to hear your beautiful giggles echoing into the halls and rooms. They will love you like how a man can never love, like a God's immortal love that has no ending even as they may one day lose their immortality.

For years in your life you always wondered whether you will be blessed with another by your side or not, and wondering how it will ever happen. Even before the raid came in, a daughter who only cared for her mother through her times of sickness, never once spending time to look at another in the light of attraction and love. You've only seen your tribe as a family. It was never easy growing up alone after the raid, never easy to know that there was a possibility of you dying alone and the world will have no idea.

Yet they come in like a soft blanket, the exact thing you needed, giving you warmth and closure, providing you food and endless love. You are unsure of how you can ever be enough but they tell you that you need not to trust your own thoughts but to trust theirs instead.

Because they love you and find no faults in your flaws, no fault in you whatsoever. To them you are more than enough, more than the love of the world itself and they will never stop to help you realize that.

So when Jimin holds your face to gently brush away your remaining tears, you thank them through your thoughts. He leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, whispering, "You have no need to thank us from now on. No Gods nor universe can ever stop us for wanting to love you."

Your cheeks blossom with roses at his soft words and you tell him, "I think I'm ready."

He understands.

So the Gods step back to allow you room for the wisteria who stands tall with patience no matter its slow withering. You reach out a little more confidently than before, watching as it joins you in the middle and feel it wrapping its vine around your hand and wrist. You close your eyes, letting it take your love and energy that flows from your body to heal the wisteria. It holds onto you firmly but does not ever hurt you in any way. It is gentle in his taking and you know that the wisteria will give back for the love you are providing it.

Giving you immortality for you to spend all of your life with the Gods who will never fall out of love with you.

When the wisteria unwraps itself from your hand, you know that it is done and let your hand fall back to your side. The eight of you watch as the tree glows of a thousand starlight, blooming to its max capacity with its shade of colors growing stronger than the years before it. Your eyes sparkle as you stare at the celestial tree who gives back light to not just you but your Gods who stands beside you.

You feel full and anew and smile gently when the glowing begins to fade while it remains tall with its blossoming vines.

When your head spins with dizzy and drowsiness, the Gods are right there to hold you. "You must rest now, my dear," the God of Spring whispers to you as your eyes begin to haze and fall closed.

"I'm tired," you say as darkness begins to consume your world. But they are right here beside you to let you know that you are alright. You know you are, this happens when one gives their love and energy to the wisteria, you've seen it in the memories.

"Mmn," you hear the voice again. So soft, so soothing, and your body falls to rest as you are held up into someone's arms. "Rest now, my sweet love."

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The birds chirp again, soft and melodic, sweetly singing you a morning lullaby. When you open your eyes and yawn awake, the God of Stars lays right before you while a hand from someone else holds onto you from behind. You look back to find the God of Knowledge who grips you a little more, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck and letting you give out a soft giggle.

Seokjin brushes your hair from your face as he watches you with a gentle gaze. "Good morning, dear one."

"Good morning," you sigh.

"Have you slept well?" You nod and he can feel your energy through the touch, relieved at the answer before kissing you on your forehead. "The others have yet to wake, it is quite early after all, and they've had a long night." You tilt your head to the side and he answers you before you can ask the question aloud. "No need to worry, sweetheart, we just had to deal with a few things in order to make this place more safer for you."

"Oh." You frown and he can already feel the guilt rushing in. "I'm so sorry."

"No, my dear," Seokjin is quick to say, "you have no need to apologize."

"I-I didn't mean for the dog to go or anyone else, I-I just-"

"You were frightened, my love, and no fear of yours will ever be taken lightly," he tells you as he take ahold of your hand. "You have no need to be sorry for something that is not yours to control. Those wild ones were at fault, it is not in your hands to choose what will frighten you and what will not."

Going through drastic measures just to make sure you are safe and protected, just to make sure you are comfortable at a place that will be your home for the rest of your life. You are touched by their actions, touched by everything they do for you and your eyes begin to tear up. Seokjin smiles softly at the sight of you, understanding what you mean through the touches and goes on to brush away your small tears.

"Come on," he whispers as he takes Taehyung's hand off him to sit up, "I know you have been curious to see my stars."

Oh.

Right, you are.

You grow excited as you gently untangle Namjoon from you and take Seokjin's hand. The two of you giggle as both Taehyung and Namjoon whine for someone to hold in their arms, finding the both of you gone so they reach for one another instead. "Let's go," the God of Stars whispers in your ears and the two of you run off hand in hand as if you are on a little adventure.

You remember the familiar walls into some place you had never actually gone before. The castle is huge after all, but it all comes to you as you look back on the memories that they had shared with you, watching and growing excited as Seokjin himself cannot wait to show you his own room that is filled with stars. You anticipate this moment most of all, knowing exactly where you will go yet also understanding that seeing it in person will be so much more incredible just as you have seen all the other rooms.

He comes to a grand set of golden doors that is designed with wreaths and vines with a star right in the center. "Ready?" He asks and you nod eagerly.

When Seokjin holds a palm between the two doors, it isn't long before it glows brightly and magically opens all on its own. You are met by a portal just on the other side and squeeze the Star God his hand to tell him that you cannot believe you are finally getting to see this. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and the two of you walk right into the portal that transports you onto a platform with the galaxy all around you.

Your heart beats rapidly at the sight of the stars, constellations amongst constellations, stars connecting one another, milky ways, and everything else you do not know the exact names to. Seokjin allows you to run towards the balcony, your body lurching forward as you hold onto the white railing and look down. The small island you are on hovers in the galaxy where the night surrounds it all as if you are floating in the universe.

The Gods only surprises you more and more no matter how much you have seen in their memories.

"This is so beautiful!" You breathe as you close your eyes for a moment to take it all in. "I cannot believe I am soulmates to not just one but seven Gods who holds so much power and have the privilege to see all of your worlds."

Seokjin smile when he walks up to you with a hand rounding your back protectively so that you do not fall from the small island. "We are the most lucky of them all to be able to share our worlds with you." He listens to the beat of your heart as it flutters and loves the way you lean back to curl up along his side. It is still a wonder how he was able to be fated with seven; six Gods and a beautiful mortal. No matter how the world may see it, the God of Stars understands more than anyone that names that have been written in the stars will never fall out of place.

He loves you so much just as he loves the six Gods and when he feels that you've heard his thoughts and feel the heat of your body rising, Seokjin lets you hide your face against his chest, a chuckle escaping him because he knows you must be blushing red. Oh how sweet their little mortal is with a gentle heart that is the most purest of them all.

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.

.

He watches you from afar, the sight of you in a new day under the bright sun that has become his whole life. The Sun God does not know how such beauty can exist. He has seen it in through the other Gods, always feeling such blessing falling upon him from the first moments he had first met them and even now as he stands years after, he still falls hard for the beauty that befalls each of his soulmates.

And now it is your turn, once just a mortal who now has immortality given by the wisteria. He watches you with a fond gaze as you look out the balcony that leads down to the garden unlike the one in your shared room. You have no idea he is there, your beauty only stunning him further. It almost looks as if you are glowing under the Sun, whom, he knows, has also become fond of you. He has her to thank, for leading him to your mountain, for letting them finally meet you. She has been through your worst days, watched you time and time again as you grew into the person you have become, hoping to give you as much light as she can.

He has read the Sun's thoughts, how she always felt guilty for not being able to give you warmth, but Hoseok knows not to blame her and he knows you would never as well. That is how kind he knows you are, a heart made of gold, and he knows that from now on, the Sun will always watch over you and protect you from anything that will ever dare to do you harm. He smiles graciously at her before returning his gaze to look upon you again.

"My love?"

You jump slightly at his voice but immediately relax when you know that it is Hoseok. You look away from the view to bless him with a sweet smile and he finds his heart fluttering. Oh how Hoseok loves being in love.

"Hello, Hoseok."

He smiles gently when you walk up to him and lean against his soft touches when he holds your face. You are happy right now, so happy, and it makes him proud of how far you have come. "Do you sometimes miss the cold, sweet Y/N?" He asks you, knowing that your whole life you have been surrounded by the winter cold.

You giggle at his question and allows his heart to burst. "Our tribe has always wanted to meet Spring," you tell him as you let him look back on your memories. Your village always speaks of the beautiful season, how they wish that even if it will last just one day, they would take it in a heartbeat. The young children will dream about it, the young adults complaining about how tired they are of the cold, the elderlies knowing they will see it one day when they lay on their death beds.

"And you?" He asks.

"I am happy things are the way they are," you tell him and he sees how you think of your first meeting with them, how frightened you had been at first, but also how relieved you were to find out you would not die that day but to live on and on. "I am so, so happy. After all, I met Spring the moment we met."

He wants to hide the fact that he wishes to kiss you but how can the Sun God ever hide anything from his soulmate? Not especially when the two of you are touching and you both can hear each other's very thoughts. So he slides his hand away from yours, clearing his throat a little awkwardly as he looks away, not before noticing the little blush that has made it onto your cheeks. He knows you are not ready yet and knows it is not the time just yet, understanding that you need a little more time. He will be ready when you are, when you can give yourself to them, not when he wishes for it to just happen.

Because Hoseok is a gentleman. He will not force something upon you and let you know his little wishes to grow closer to you because he does not want you to think that you must do something if he so wishes. He is still a powerful God, knowing fully well how you see yourself below his level and may sometimes feel self conscious because they are so high and mighty. He doesn't want you to feel as if you are obligated to reciprocate his wishes so he lets out a sigh.

"Forgive me, little one, I did not mean-"

You take his hand again to rest his palm right against your cheek and his eyes widen at the blush on your face and the understanding of what it is you are too shy to speak aloud of, feelings hidden inside, something only he and the rest can read.

You wish to kiss him as well, to feel his soft lips against yours, to understand what it is like to kiss for the first time, to kiss a God.

"My love," he worries, "you do not have to-"

"I understand, Hoseok," you've read his worries but still you are determined to do this, to let him know that it is not because he wishes to kiss you but the fact that you want this all on your own. You wish to kiss him. "Please?" You ask and he does not know how anyone can say no to those precious eyes of yours that looks up at him, reflecting that of a puppy.

He feels a slight shift in you and realizes right, you are not fond of the animal. "Forgive me." You shake your head in response to him, smiling to let him understand that you know he means well.

So the God of Sun beams softly. You are ready for him when he holds you with both hands, heart drumming hard against your chest with rosy cheeks adorning your face to let him know that you are also nervous. Nervous but excited. He leans in to rest his forehead against yours, breaths gently grazing against one another, and you close your eyes. He watches you through a hooded gaze before his eyes flutter shut the instant his lips meet yours in a gentle, gentle kiss.

Your lips are softer than what he has imagined them to be, softer and sweeter than any dreams that have invaded his mind. You sigh against his lips and he holds you a little more firm, the euphoric feeling both bursting within your bodies. Hoseok is used to this feeling as he is reminded of the countless times he has kissed his other soulmates.

But for you this is your first time, your first kiss, and the first time kissing another who was born to be yours from the beginning of time. Your head spins and when he pulls away, you are standing almost limping against his hold, feeling so breathless as you try to catch your breath.

"I should have gone easy on you," he worries but you shake your head, cheeks still caught aflame as you look up at him with glistening lips. You liked it, you tell him from your thoughts as you tiptoe up to press a little peck on his cheek. Hoseok chuckles as he feels his stomach bursting with butterflies.

But as much as he wants to swoop you up and carry you to the bedroom, his eyes catches the Sun behind you and frowns. He hasn't gotten more time to spend with you and when you hear his thoughts, you let him go gently. But he knows you are feeling a little sad knowing he has to leave right now so Hoseok gives you a small smile with a hand stroking your cheek. "I will be back in no time, alright?" He promises. Your cheeks never cools down, making him chuckle when you nod at him shyly. "Wait for me."

"Mmn."

When he disappears to transport himself elsewhere, your thoughts are in shambles as you walk back slowly to the bedroom. It takes a while with how slow you are going as you try not to think back on the kiss but how can you not?

Once you make it into the room again, the door closes behind you as you lean your back into it, eyes still widened, cheeks still red, and a finger comes up to press against your lips. You kissed him, you kissed Hoseok. Well, he kissed you but same thing. He gave you the first kiss you had once dreamt of, never knowing exactly whether you would ever receive such a delicate touch and now here you are in a palace made for your Gods, a life for you to live in forever.

"Love?"

You gasp at the sound, not realizing someone was in the bedroom but when you look up, it isn't just the God of Knowledge. Yoongi has joined him on the bed as well and you blush some more, embarrassed for the fact that they have seen you thinking back on your kiss with Hoseok.

You don't know what to do as they look at you quizzically and knowing how bad it will be if they were to stand up and come your way. Ever since you've met them you never minded being able to share thoughts with just simple touches, but now? Now you really understand how intimate this soulmate thing really is and you aren't sure whether it is a good thing at this moment.

"Are you alright?" The God of Music calls and you are quick to shake your head vehemently to rid of the thoughts.

"Y-yeah." If your face doesn't give it away then it would be the shaking of your voice. Gosh you wish you could easily hide your feelings without someone being able to read it so easily with how it is written on your face. When you look up at them, your eyes instantly falls to their lips and you don't know how you will ever survive this.

Perhaps it would be easier if Hoseok was here to explain things, perhaps then you wouldn't find yourself so pressed to the doors and shrink back timidly as Namjoon and Yoongi leave the bed to walk up to you.

"Do you have a fever?" Namjoon frowns and his hand goes to fall against your forehead before you can stop him.

Oh crap.

"Oh." His eyes dilates when the touch allows him to read your thoughts and Namjoon sees the vision of you and Hoseok kissing just moments ago. Yoongi watches the two of you in confusion, how the corner of Namjoon's lips begin to curl and the way your face refuses to cool. So he touches your face out of curiosity and chuckles when he understands.

"Why are you embarrassed, hm?" The God of Music queries. "We are lovers, after all, kissing is just a sign of declaration."

Oh how you wish someone could just bury you alive. But of course the Gods were never going to allow that, but they understand what you mean. "I-It isn't just that," you say and when your thoughts are given to them, the two of them grins.

"Ah," says the God of Knowledge, "you wish to kiss us as well."

He didn't have to say that out loud.

They chuckle amusingly before Yoongi falls a little more serious as he brush your hair to the side. "My love," he calls, "you have no need to shy away. We are lovers now, soulmates, and if there is anything that you wish to do, it is alright for you to think such thoughts. Sleep with us, bathe with us, kissing us." You wonder how he has such bravery to say such things but is reminded all over again that they've done it all, done everything together. Images of them fill your memories and it makes your heart drum louder against your chest.

"I.." you trail off, eyes falling away from his out of embarrassment, "I-I know."

"Will you look at me?" He asks of you. You hesitate, of course you do, but Yoongi remains patient as he waits for your head to lift up and finally meet his gaze again. When you do just that, he gives you his precious gummy smile. "Look at you," the Music God praises, "I am so proud of you, dear one." He leans down to press a kiss on your cheeks, lifts his head a bit to kiss you on the forehead before his lips trail down, following the line between your brows and down to the tip of your nose.

"It's alright," Namjoon coaxes as he falls at your side, peppering soft kissing upon your shoulder.

You do not mind it so they go further. Namjoon continues his ministrations while Yoongi's lips hover above yours. When you give no refusal, he captures your lips and your heart grows rapidly against your chest. Soft lips nibble upon yours with gently wet sounds as he changes the angle and your mind becomes so hazy. Your fingers cling onto his royal robe, clutching it tightly as a small whimper falls from your lips.

When Yoongi falls away, Namjoon replaces his position. Your heart swoons, tummy filled with dancing butterflies all around, with thoughts filled with just them and them alone. His lips are sweet and gentle against yours, pressing upon them in a manner that has your head spinning all over again.

The moment they both finally release you, you fall against Namjoon's chest who holds you up because you have no strength to do so. One day you will get used to this strong burst of emotions, to the soulmate bond, but right now your eyes droop as you lean against Namjoon's hold who walks to the bed to lay you down gently. "It's okay," he whispers to you when Yoongi falls to your other side. They hold you gently, arms wrapped around your body. "Sleep now, my sweet dove."

You love them and they hear it but you want to say it aloud. Yet your sleepy brain does not let you utter a sound, too tired to even open your lips to mouth it. But they know and that is all you need for now.

You can tell them tomorrow.

.

.

.

"Jin?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you...know?"

He doesn't have to read your mind to know what you mean by that. All the Star God has to do is look at the blooming pink rose adorning your cheeks to understand it all. He chuckles at the pretty sight and nods. "Of course."

Right, of course, meaning that the other Gods know as well. You avoid his eyes for your head to point towards the floor, fingers playing with one another as you gulp, trying to pick up the courage to ask him something else. Seokjin remains patient from where he stands, watching the stars as he always does, watching over everything. You aren't even sure if it is right to bother him with this but he has told you plenty of times that you are never a bother to him. If you wish to ask him things, he only encourages you to speak up.

"Why does..why does the soulmate bond, um..." you try to find the right words. Perhaps he will understand better if he touches you but you feel you are already bothering him enough. "Why does it feel..um...overwhelming?" Is that the right word? "Is it for the reason that we are made of eight souls and not two?"

The God of Stars hum. "That is part of it, yes," he tells you. "Soulmate bonds are very powerful, my sweet, so it only grows stronger when it is declared through intimacy. When there is more than one partner, the bond is even stronger than that of two souls because this is not common amongst lovers to love more than one, especially being able to share that love equally. The world happens for a reason, many grows jealous for our love, many despise us for how strong this bond makes us. And because of how powerful it makes us, there is a little drawback to how much energy it can give."

"That's why...that's why..-" you clear your throat and he grins at how shy you can be just saying the word, "that's why, kissing..u-um...that's why it makes me so tired?"

He chuckles. "Precisely."

"Oh." You frown slightly. "I can't imagine how it will be when we—" You gasp, catching yourself almost immediately as you fold your hands over your mouth and Seokjin turns his gaze from the stars to look at you with amusement. There is no mockery in his gaze, however, just pure fondness that makes your heart skip a beat because even though he does not say it and even though you are not reading his mind, his gaze alone lets you know that he truly loves you.

You cannot believe you have been so blessed to be given these Gods as your soulmates. Everyone dreams of a love such as this, to have another watching them with pure fondness and amazement, with a pure love. For them to feel safe and protected. For them to know where home lies the second they meet eyes with their fated ones.

Your God walks on over to you with slow steps, eyes never leaving yours as you look up to him when he holds a hand up to stroke your soft cheeks. "You will be alright when that happens," he whispers.

You don't know how he can say that so casually but then again, you aren't his first time and you aren't the only soulmate he has. There are six more, six wonderful Gods who loves you just as much as they love one another.

"Will I?"

Seokjin nods, humming. "We will take care of you, my love. Will you trust us when the time comes?"

To make love. Gosh you cannot think about it without being a blushing mess so you stumble back from his touch, embarrassed to let him read your thoughts because with him being so close to you, it only makes things more dangerous for the good of your heart. It beats rapidly against your chest and you are quick to turn, knowing you cannot look at him straight in the eyes when you are like this. One day you will have to come face this bravely but one day is not here yet and you still cannot even speak right with just the word kiss.

So you awkwardly clear your throat as he watches you nod from the back. "Y-yes," you stutter, "I will trust you then. But..but, um...I-I'm already a bother so you..you should, should get back to your stars. Goodbye."

You can hear him letting out a soft chuckle when you run back into the portal to transport back to the castle.

.

.

.

"Ah, there you are."

You turn at the voice with a hand pressed onto the floor and a head looking over your shoulder to find the God of Ocean and Hearth walking into the room of the wisteria. You gift them a smile as they walk closer, wondering why they have been looking for you.

"There is a banquet tomorrow evening, will you join us to meet the other Gods and Goddesses?" Jungkook asks and your eyes widen a little at the invitation.

"A banquet?" You echo.

He hums. "Everyone knows we have found our last soulmate and are very intrigued on why we have been keeping you hidden in the palace."

"There have been a few banquets prior to your arrival here but we know you hadn't felt too comfortable leaving the grounds just yet," Taehyung says. "And besides, we wanted you to get used to this life first and get used to us. Gods can be quite invading and we were too protective of you to just let you go while you had yet to know of everything."

You giggle softly at the God of Ocean's words. "You were afraid of me wanting to live elsewhere and not here with you?" You interpret and they pout cutely when you caught them. You shake your head lightly as you grin. "That will never happen. You are the ones who saved me after all. Soulmates or nor, I would have stayed with you."

"Well that's relieving," Jungkook chuckles as he scratch the back of his head. "So will you join us? We have no need to go if you are not comfortable, we can just stay here if you'd like."

You shake your head again. "I would love to go."

Their faces brightens with soft smiles before the God of Ocean takes a hand out to offer to you. "Supper is served," he says. You reach out to take his hand but stop in midair as you realize what that means, suddenly retracing sheepishly because right now you cannot afford any of them to hear your thoughts just yet. It is all over the place and you absolutely cannot let Taehyung hear this. His smile falters when he puts his hand back at his side at your rejection and you are quick to jump onto your feet.

"I-I did not mean it in that way, I promise!" You declare. "I just...um..-"

"I understand," he tells you otherwise with a small smile that does not hide his moment of hurt. "It's okay, little one. Come on, the rest are waiting."

As you follow them from behind, your hands tug at your dress uncomfortably, suddenly feeling bad for letting him misunderstand you in this way. Taehyung thinks you've rejected him and when Jungkook shoots you a small smile just the same, you know you've messed up. After all, they know you've kissed three of their hyungs and maybe, perhaps, very likely, they were hoping you were ready to kiss them as well.

But now you've only made things worse because you wouldn't allow them to read your thoughts that is filled with everything about them, just them. You can't just reach for his hand to make him feel better because then he will be able to read your thoughts and right now you cannot let him do so. Not yet.

Oh how you wish you were braver.

Dinner goes smoothly...you think. But it is when you are left alone to your thoughts in the bath do you not feel so great again.

It isn't right for you to be so silent when they have declared their love to you plentifully. You know you've told Namjoon and Yoongi but that was all in your head. You haven't said it aloud and the rest of them haven't heard it said to them yet. So perhaps that is why Taehyung and Jungkook had been a little more hurt by your rejection, believing you love only two of the Gods and not everyone.

But that is so untrue yet you aren't sure how to do it, if you are brave enough to do it. But then again, you ask yourself why aren't you brave enough? They have declared their love for you, showed you how much they care, always looking out for you and doing what is best to keep you safe and warm. What is it that you have to be frightened of? They love you and you love them and you know that soulmates written under the stars shall never break apart even through death.

So why are you not brave enough? Why must you keep silent and hurt them further? Making them believe you love some of them more than the rest?

It is untrue and you have to let them know, you have to let them understand. But as much as you want to hide with the fact that they can easily read your thoughts to understand it all, even though you know that will be so much easier, you also know that it will be best to say it aloud first, to declare it aloud before you let them see into your heart. You have to tell them first before you let your heart tell them the details of it.

When you step out of the bath and wrap yourself in a white robe, your eyes fall at the evening robe that hangs on a hook and the long mirror that lets you see yourself. You watch those eyes looking back at you, fingers falling upon your wet hair, tracing the outline of your face, your brows, your eyes, nose and lips.

And it makes you wonder why they love you.

They are Gods, such powerful Gods, possibly the most powerful Gods to ever exist all due to the soulmate bonds that keeps them connected. Your hand strokes your soft cheeks, lips staying pressed together with brows that creases just a bit. You are loved by seven Gods and here you are, now an immortal yourself, still trying to get the courage to speak your heart aloud.

It should not be this hard, right?

Maybe if you hadn't been forced to grow up so alone then perhaps things could have gone a lot easier. But as Seokjin had said before, the world happens for a reason. Your tribe being attacked, you being left to live alone for ten years, saved by these precious seven souls, and now loved by them all all because you are you. A kind, sweet soul who cares so much about the world.

Perhaps you indeed deserve such a love, perhaps you indeed deserved to live on.

Their love lets you reflect on everything and the longer you look at yourself, you begin to see tears brimming along your waterline as your heart cries for how much they have given you. They've showed you that you deserve anything and everything and now you must pick up the courage to let them know that you appreciate everything and has fallen so hard. You know it must not be easy for them either but they've always been so strong for you, keeping you safe, loving you when you had yet to accept the new life and know that you deserve such wonderful things.

They've done so much for you and you know you cannot let them think that one is more than the other. You have to let them know.

"Y/N?" You turn at the call of Jimin's concerning voice and gasp at the sudden intrusion.

Oh.

They've heard you crying and now here they are again, always trying to make sure that you are alright. Knowing this, more tears well up and falls away before you can stop them, making your heart ache a little more. Their brows knit together, eyes filled with worry at the sight and they try rushing to you but you step back with hands held up to stop them. "W-wait!" You cannot allow them to touch you.

Not yet. Not just yet.

Questions fall upon their faces and you close your eyes, letting a few tears fall freely, taking in a deep breath before releasing it shakily. When you open your eyes again, your lips curl into a soft, soft smile that confuses them even more. They think that perhaps you are trying to let them go, a pain shooting at their hearts, but when you open your mouth to speak, the tightness in their chest releases.

"I love you," you say. "I love you all so much and I just wanted to thank you," you wipe a tear away though more falls and you sniff, "for loving me while I was still at a loss and couldn't understand why." The lump in your throat tries to hinder you from speaking but you swallow it to push through. "I love you for all that you've done, being patient with me, keeping me safe, always thinking of me and doing all that is best for me. I am still so, so shy, and I'm not sure if I will ever find the courage to say these things out aloud again but just know, just know that as you are holding me and reading my thoughts, know that I will always be wishing to say everything out aloud.

"I'm sorry for not being able to say this before. I'm so, so sorry if I ever caused any misinformation to let you to believe I was rejecting you by not allowing you to touch me. Truth is I was just afraid to let my heart speak before I could do it myself. Because I know that the heart understands the inner conflicted feelings before I myself can say anything out loud. And I was scared because I didn't know whether I truly deserve this or not, whether I truly deserve your love. But I understand. I understand that soulmates that have been written in the stars shall never fall, I understand that, that our love is meant to be. I'm so sorry I've just realized it. I'm sorry."

"Oh, love." Jimin wipes his own tears away as they come to surround you. "My sweet one, you have no need to apologize."

"You've just been so patient and, and I..-"

"We know," Yoongi promises. "We know so hush, it's okay. You're alright now."

Jungkook cradles your head as Taehyung brushes your tears away. Seokjin holds your face and you feel a rush of the wind at your sides, drying your hair and replacing your bathrobe with the evening gown.

"We are so proud of you," Namjoon vows. "It is never easy to speak your feelings aloud but it's okay now. We understand, dear one, we know."

"I love you," you declare again, sniffling, and they smile, smile so softly.

"Oh, love. We love you so, so much. We love you more than the universe itself."

.

.

.

When they hear the familiar footsteps of the last soulmate to meet them by the entrance door of the castle, their heads turn your way for the world to slow down and fall away, nothing else falling into their line of vision except you as you walk down gracefully with a sheepish smile their way.

The dress you have on is a soft color in golden champagne, flowing freely down to the floor as it drags when you walk, decorated with shimmering golden vines that curls all around the dress. Soft pink roses connect together at the waist of your dress and falls atop your shoulder where the lace cape drags down your back. You also have on a beautiful crown designed in pink florals and golden butterflies, matching all that you are wearing. They do not know how you can impress them even further and show that your beauty comes different with certain occasions; when you wake up, the moment after you bathe, the night before you head to sleep, your casual dresses when you walk around the castle, and now here for a banquet.

You are ethereal, more beautiful than anyone they have seen before and their hearts beats rapidly just knowing that you are theirs.

Everything about you is beautiful and they already know for sure how some of the Goddesses will grow jealous of this beauty of yours once they set eyes on you, and how the other Gods may try to catch your attention. They shake their heads at the images, mentally scoffing and rolling their eyes because you are theirs, you belong to them just as they belong to you.

"Wow," your eyes dilate at the sight of them and a little soft pink reaches your cheeks before you avert your gaze to the floor shyly. "You are handsome," you tell them and their hearts swoon.

"And you are more beautiful than Spring itself," Jimin says as he holds your chin for you to look up. You smile sheepishly at him and he chuckles, taking your hand into his. "Are you ready?"

When you arrive at the banquet, you stick to their sides, never releasing your hands that holds onto Jimin's arm because everything becomes unfamiliar and it is not the same garden you are used to back at the palace.

This one is large and gorgeous but it can never compare to the one the God of Spring has made on his own. Pretty flowers round the stoned paths in roses, pansies, lilies, and many more. The lampposts that station around the garden are wrapped in green vines that curls all the way to the tip, and pretty fairy lights shine everyone's paths. You look around like a curious little kitten, blinking surprised at all that surrounds you. The realm of the immortals is definitely more beautiful than Earth can ever be.

Ah, but then again, you've only been in one place and that would be your mountain and the snowy grounds that surrounds it. Yet you are sure Earth is still less beautiful.

Beside you, Jimin laughs softly as he's read your thoughts and you are reminded all over again that soulmates are given such ability, making you giggle yourself.

"So this must be your last soulmate." You shrink into Jimin's hold as you are met by a Goddess who smiles so beautifully your way. She is gorgeous and you find yourself shying away at her stare. "Oh she is so cute," the Goddess practically squeal when she coos, making your cheeks catch aflame and allowing your Gods to chuckle.

"She is, isn't she?" Hoseok beams proudly as he pets your head.

"Tell me, how in the world did you all manage to find yourselves another beauty?"

Catching the sight of the familiar seven Gods, more comes on by upon hearing the Goddess going on about you, curiosity filling their minds and you shrink further back at the sudden attention. Many comments upon your pure, gentle soul who looks too cute and beautiful for anything and it makes you even more flustered by everyone. Eventually (and thankfully) the crowd falls away when your Gods ask them to give you space and not horde around you. They do not say it allowed but you can feel their protective selves becoming more visible and you giggle, allowing Taehyung to playfully pinch your nose because he is not particularly fond of you calling them cute when they feel such way.

You are theirs after all, and no one should continue looking at you for much longer than a few minutes. You should be only for their eyes to see especially when you look particularly beautiful tonight. Perhaps you like this side to them, and when they hear your thoughts, it is your turn to huff and shy away all over again, making them laugh aloud.

After moments of walking around to personally meet a few Gods and Goddesses along your soulmates' sides, you are left alone to freely explore on your own. The curious side to you walks around to make little conversations with a few immortals on your own though you are still a little shy when it comes to talking to strangers.

You walk around the maze garden that falls a bit deserted while everyone mingles around the large center. You follow the fireflies that blinks like little flashlights, feet bouncing lightly as it trails away from the brightness of the garden banquet. Your dress trails behind you as you stray away from the center, running from right to left with just the fireflies as your source of light, getting yourself lost in the maze. But you know that you will be alright. After all, if your Gods need you, they can easily find you with no difficulties.

"Hello there."

Your breath hitches, jumping at the sudden sound because you hadn't expected anyone else to stray from the garden and walk in the maze. When you turn to the source of the voice, it is the sight of a God you think you have seen before while reading some of Namjoon's books. It must be the God of the Underworld, Hades. He watches you with a sly smile that falls lopsided against his lips, body leaned against a hedge before standing straight to approach you with light steps.

"I have never seen you before," he says, voice deep as a brow raises before snapping his fingers as if he's just realized something. "You must be their last soulmate then. Y/N."

It is a bit surprising even the God of the Underworld knows of you but you decide to pay it no mind, only nodding as you hope your voice does not come out too cowardly. "Yes, I am."

It doesn't work because Hades chuckles knowingly. "You have no need to fear me," he tells you but it isn't really him you become so frightful of. No, your eyes only dilates as your breath is caught up in your throat when you watch in horror at the sight of the animal that walks up from behind him. Hades' brows furrow as he falls at a loss at your trembling figure and the way your body turns from him, hands clasped around your lips while your eyes shut tight.

Cerberus. Three headed dog.

You are too frightened to scream. One because you do not wish to disturb the peacefulness of the evening banquet and two because you can't. Tears brim along your eyes while you try to hide the whimper that begins to fall from your lips behind your hands. But it doesn't really help. Hades can hear it muffled out of you.

He has no idea what you are frightened of. Surely he isn't that scary, is he? "Is something the matter?"

"P...please get it...g-get it..a..away."

A laugh falls from him as he realizes what is happening. "You're afraid of dogs? I knew mortals were quite weak but I had no idea they were this weak."

Someone wraps their arms around you, pulling you in close to their chest and you don't have to look up to know who it must be just by their scent and the touch alone. "Leave, Hades," the God of Stars command in a grave voice as Jungkook silently tells you that all will be alright, that they are here now and you have nothing to be afraid of anymore. But you can still feel the presence of the dog and it only reminds you of the cruel memories that has terrorized you plenty of times. Jungkook understands, of course he does, because no matter how connected you are with the Gods, the God of Hearth shares something a little deeper as his hearth comes from Earth.

So a hand comes behind your head as the other remains on your back, his touches whispering soft gentle words to soothe your pain and comfort you through the memories.

"This is a banquet, is it not?" You hear Hades saying and through the feeling of Jungkook's protective and caring self, anger burns his body so immensely you are surprised this is him. You're used to your Gods being so kind and gentle, never have you actually ever witnessed their angry sides.

"I will not repeat myself, Hades." You do not have to touch Namjoon to understand his anger as well. They are all angry as you hear growls from the back of their throats all hinted towards Hades who does not fall back even when asked to. The pride within him restricts him from doing as he is told even though the God of the Underworld knows he cannot go up against the seven Gods who are the most powerful especially when together. Your Gods are fuming with wrath, not fond of anyone threatening their soulmate's safety which in this case would be you and you can hear the thoughts of Jungkook as he holds you, knowing he will burn the whole garden down if it means Hades will leave.

But their anger towards the God of the Underworld elicits growling from his loyal dog who does not like anyone trying to go up against his Lord and it makes you whimper, body shrinking more towards Jungkook who hears your thoughts.

You don't care about Hades or anything anymore, you just wish to go home. So he lets out a sigh though he is still riled with anger and turns to the God of Knowledge. "Let's go, Namjoon."

You feel their eyes turning to you at those words before sighs leave their own lips and you are brought back not a moment too soon.

"We're home now, little one. You're alright now."

But you don't leave Jungkook's arms, still so, so afraid because the horrible memories of that Winter day will not go away despite Cerberus now nowhere to be seen. His eyes fall with pain and worry as he holds you, meeting the Gods with an understanding gaze and just letting you cry it all out. Your heart hurts, body still trembling, and when you feel you cannot hold your body up for much longer, Jungkook picks you up to walk on over to the bed and have you sitting right on his lap.

"Shh, it's okay, my love, it's okay." He continues whispering soft words to your ears, rocking your body gently against him while pressing soft kisses upon your head. The others come to surround you, hands holding yours, pressing kisses upon your shoulders while you sob and sob.

"You're okay, you're alright. Everything will be alright. We're right here. We'll always be here."

"..Scary..." You whimper.

"I know, I know. We'll make it all okay again, alright? You have no need to be afraid anymore."

"We'll always be here. We'll protect you from all that threatens to harm you."

"You're our precious mate and we will never let anything happen to you again."

"We'll make it better."

.

.

.

You awake at the feeling of gentle fingertips running along your face, stroking it with soft touches, and small incoherent whispers beside you. They fall into a comfortable silence when they feel your mind drifting out of unconsciousness. Once your eyes finally releases from the haze, you see both the God of Ocean and Spring looking down at you as they prop themselves up against their elbows.

"Good morning," Taehyung greets with a gentle smile.

"We are here, love," Jimin says when your mind is reminded of the nightmare you had before, blurring your vision and feeling so thankful that they are here right now. The God of Spring leans down to press a soft kiss to your head and almost instantly you feel your tense body relaxing once more, mind now clear of anything that would harm you.

"Thank you," you whisper, voice still trying to adjust to the waking world. He nods at you and you feel another kiss placed upon your temple. Taehyung brushes away the tear that fell when you blinked and kiss the fingertip that held onto the salty water droplet.

"Feeling better?" You nod and he smiles, relieved. Your brows knit just slightly when you realize no one else is in bed because you do not feel anymore presence to fill up the empty spaces. Usually when you have woken, all of your Gods would still be around before breakfast is served and they'll run off to their own duties. The God of Ocean hears your thoughts and returns to stroking your soft cheek. "You slept in this morning, my love. It is almost noon," he explains. "We have agreed on two of us staying here until you awake so that you would not have to be greeted by the emptiness of the room."

"Oh," you frown. "I'm sorry."

Jimin shakes his head. "No need, my little flower, you had a rough night after all. Now come," he helps you sit up as Taehyung uses his powers to wheel a tray of food forward, "you must be hungry."

There are plates of fresh toast and sweet biscuits along with two eggs, a cup of milk, and a bowl of sliced fruits set onto the tray that is placed onto your lap. Your two Gods do not allow you to use your energy as they feed you on their own, letting you bite slowly and taking your sweet time. It comes to no surprise that the food is delicious because everything you you've had will always be the best. This is the house of Gods after all, and they will have nothing fall below standard.

When you grow full, they let you run off to the bathroom to get ready for the new day though help you with brushing your hair. You sit in between them on the bed as Taehyung runs a brush through your soft hair and face Jimin who plays with the soft delicate touches of your fingers. You see his subtle smile when the God of Spring stares at them, his thoughts echoing to you with nothing kept a secret. It is odd to him how small you are, hands a tinier size than his despite how small his is compared to the rest of the Gods and especially the one behind you who has the largest of them all.

Everyone's hands engulfs his and yours and he is proud to be able to engulf your own. You giggle as his thoughts passes onto you and Jimin looks up, grinning sweetly. "Little rose, I have heard the mortals spreading myths of how the size of how hands reflects the size of our hearts but I say that is preposterous."

Taehyung laughs. "I say the myth is fair."

"Fair?" Jimin scoffs. "That's only because your hands are ginormous."

"And so is my heart," he hums.

"Maybe so but look at us," the God of Spring clasp your hands together and holds it up for the God of Ocean to see, "our hands may be small but our hearts are much bigger than it."

"Hmm...perhaps you're right."

"Perhaps?" Jimin echoes, scoffing again and this time with huff. "My heart is big and you know it."

Taehyung shakes with a choral of laughter before he releases the brush to sit it on the soft mattress and reaches for Jimin's hands that had fallen out of yours. "Love, you know I was only playing." With you in between, the God of Ocean pulls Jimin forward just slightly so that when he leans in, his lips can meet Jimin's cheek.

"You missed." The God of Spring still feigns to be upset so Taehyung chuckles at his lover, leaning in again to capture Jimin's lips.

Your heart skips a beat and perhaps they hear it, perhaps they feel it because their kiss does not last long and now their heads are turned your way. You grow petals pink after being caught and the two of them looks at one another with a sly grin curling at their lips before they return the attention on you again. You swallow, heart beating hard against your chest as your eyes fall away shakily because you know they can hear your thoughts.

"Hmm..does the little one want a kiss too?"

You shrink at the question, feeling your face heating up even more because they know, they can hear your thoughts yet Jimin asks that.

"I want to hear you, little one," the God explains. "After all, you said it yourself, did you not? Your heart understands what you want before you can try to say anything out loud."

Taehyung hums. "And that whatever is said in your heart, you want to say them all out loud but you are far too shy."

"Can we hear it, love?" He holds your chin and lifts it easily, lips curled upward to a side as he looks down at you and your heart only burns some more. His thumb delicately traces along your lips as Taehyung's fingers gathers your hair to put it a side so that your neck is exposed for him to softly graze against. Jimin leans in at your distracted mind filled of both him and the Ocean God, forehead resting against yours with his nose just centimeters away from yours, breath hitting you as he speaks. "Hm, love? Can you do us this little favor?" He smells like soft petals and peaches perfectly combined. "I want to hear your sweet voice."

You hesitate but you can never take your eyes off him no matter how bold Jimin's gaze is, feeling the need to just give him all that he wants. He grins knowingly at your thoughts, feeling his ego boosted and your eyes fall away shyly again. He pouts and you almost want to giggle at how desperate he is for your attention so you give it to him again, cheeks still flushed. "I..." You gulp, brows furrowed and not knowing whether you are brave enough but their touches encourages you on, telling you to go on, that they'll take care of you. So you let out a soft sigh. "Jimin.."

He's excited. "Hm?"

You look away for a brief moment before meeting his eyes again. "Can you..can you kiss me?"

Jimin's heart flutters as he grins brilliantly. Oh, what a sweet little soul, he thinks. "With pleasure."

When he captures your lips, it is so soft and delicate. Jimin's hand wraps around your waist as he pulls you in towards him closer as if you are not close enough, lips dancing with yours as he effortlessly takes the lead. Taehyung's fingers circles your neck and down your exposed collarbones and you are sent to heaven, an eternal bliss, a mind that is filled of them and just them. Jimin kisses you like you are a precious gem, like you are so fragile and he cannot bear to break you.

When his lips pull away, another hand comes to your face to turn you and your lips are captured by another, barely given any time to take a breather. "Mm...so sweet," Taehyung whispers against your lips and you feel Jimin's hands flicking your hair down back behind your neck again. He peppers kisses to your neck and you make a little sound into Taehyung's lips. It all feels so sweet and blissful but the familiar overwhelming feeling returns and your head spins.

When the God of Ocean leans away, he chuckles at the way your strength had left you and holds you up to have your body resting against his chest instead of falling back onto the mattress. "Dizzy?" Jimin observes after leaving your neck, his fingers coming up to brush your hair behind your ears. You nod weakly. "Don't worry love, the more these moments happen, the dizziness will no longer return and you'll come to embrace this overwhelming feeling."

"That's not fair, you already tired her out before I could get a chance." When another voice comes in, the three of you look up to find the God of Hearth near the doors as he tsks lightly, arms crossed against his chest while he pouts cutely.

Taehyung laughs. "You are to blame for not taking up the chance to remain here with our little love."

Jungkook huffs. "I had business down on Earth."

"You went to Earth?" Your brows raise, mouth forming into a little 'o.'

He nods as he walks forward to reach the bed. "I go there pretty often. The Earth needs my hearth after all, but I am usually disguised as a mortal."

"Where do you usually go?"

He sits in front of you while you're still using Taehyung for support and he takes a hand, smiling as he greets it with a kiss on the back. "The north and southern poles or anyplace near it." He pauses for a second before speaking again. "You know, I have not found any other hidden tribes who resides on mountains."

"We had a sister tribe," you tell him and he sees through your memories of the stories the elders would go on and go about back when you lived on the mountain. "I assume they were possibly raided as well and no one survived. Perhaps the snow buried their homes."

"Mortals can be quite cruel," Jimin sighs.

"But it's okay," Taehyung says as he plays with your hair, "Hoseok and Seokjin has condemned the murderers."

"Right."

"How are you feeling, my love?" Jungkook asks as he looks at you with some concern. He isn't just asking about the aftermath of the soulmate bond but of the night before as well, wanting to know if you really are alright again. They're still so protective of you, hating any pain and affliction to fall upon you and would do anything just to relieve you from them. You are reminded of that moment at the garden and your eyes fall to the hands that holds your own. "What is it?"

"You are all so sweet and kind," you say, squeezing his hand as you turn to look at Jimin and Taehyung before returning your gaze to the one before you, "and after last night, I know I would never want to get on your angry sides. It was scary."

They chuckle, knowing you mean well and Jungkook holds your palm up to press a kiss there. "You will never have to fear of our wrath pointing your way," the God of Hearth vows. "How can we ever get upset with you? You are our lovely little flower."

"The seven of us alone does not fight very often," Jimin says. "After all, we are soulmates, we're all soulmates, so we understand each other more than anything and anyone. There is no reason to hold secrets, no reason for misunderstandings to ignite."

You are reminded of that moment back at the wisteria, refusing to let Taehyung hold you and allowing him to look and feel hurt. The God takes your hands from Jungkook and presses a gentle kiss to your head after hearing your thoughts. "Moments like that can happen, though," he tells you and lets you see the memories of that time he and Yoongi almost went to bed upset and hurt. They of course resolved the problem in the end before anything could get worse. "As long as we communicate, love, there is no need for anyone to lose their temper."

"Okay."

He hum. "Okay?"

You nod as you look up at him with a loving gaze before it falls and you're looking back at Jungkook. The dizziness has gone away and your mind isn't so hazy in blindness anymore. You'll get used to this, you know you will. After all, kissing them is rewarding and quite lovely so you'd be glad to getting used to the strong soulmate bond. The God of Spring and Ocean chuckles knowingly at your thoughts, leaving Jungkook in question when you look down with a blooming blush because he isn't touching you.

The God of Hearth doesn't go on to touch you though, because he feels you will tell him if you want or place your own hands on his skin. The moment lasts a few long seconds more before you're letting out a sigh and deciding to be brave about it. You want to kiss the youngest one of the Gods so you will and you can feel Jimin and Taehyung both waiting with anticipation and excitement.

"Kook...?"

"Hm?"

"May I?" You ask. His brows furrow with confusion and he's about to reach up to touch you but you hold your palm up to stop him, causing him to blink but place his hand back onto his lap, respecting your wishes.

"Go on," he tells you though is unsure of what you mean.

You take a deep breath again, hearing the two Gods beside you silently cheering you on as you step up to your knees and watching Jungkook with an intense gaze. He waits, anticipating what will happen, when you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in to press a quick peck right on his lips.

His eyes widen at the sudden and unexpected kiss that was honestly way too quick to him to truly enjoy. So he chuckles at the way your cheeks roses even more because you are so shy and he's proud of you taking that courage to take the first step on telling him what you want without him needing to touch you. He hears your thoughts now, ones that whispers soft i love you's to him and Jungkook's eyes crinkle as he shows you that boyish smile. He puts his hands on both sides of your waist and pull you onto his lap, lips pecking right upon your own.

You're beet red and he laughs, pressing another quick kiss before he leans in again for it to last longer. His kisses are playful and sweet and it makes you chuckle out sweet giggles that echoes into the large room, sounding like music to their ears as it mixes with the smacking sounds of kisses and your Gods' soft laughs.

Your morning that day is filled with the soft ringing of laughter echoing into the room with the wind carrying it out the open windows that leads to the balcony.

.

.

.

The garden is even more beautiful than the one you had seen at the banquet, walking down a lone path under the starry night skies. You cannot sleep that night but your thoughts are filled with only pleasant thoughts. The purple blossoms that follows the path you walk on is divine, a type of flower you know must not exist on Earth with how ethereal it looks. It glows only at night, light sparkles glittering and falling out into the skies from the center of its petals. You close your eyes, welcoming the night breeze as it passes along your side, thankful for the fact that one of your soulmate is the God of Spring.

The stars above shines brightly, creating a blooming milky way that is entirely different from the view on Earth. How did you fall so lucky to be written under the stars with wonderful Gods whose hearts are made of gold? You are so lucky to be blessed with loving Gods who will not hesitate to do anything for you.

"It isn't fair, you know." You jump a little at the sound and turn to find the God of Stars standing a few feet away as he leans against a pillar with a slight frown.

"Jin," you sigh, greeting him with a smile before pouting at the sight of his furrowed brows. "What isn't fair?"

"I am the oldest," he says, making you even more confused. "Do you not believe that I should have been the first one, or one of the firsts, to claim your lips?"

Oh.

He sulks at the fact that you have kissed all the Gods saved for him, an underlying insecurity falling upon him though he hides it behind a pout and a playful tone. But you can understand your God of Stars without him needing to explain or you needing to touch him. Seokjin is a patient God, one who will never rush anything if you are not ready just as the rest, but you know that it must confuse him to come to know that you have already shared lips with the others.

"I'm sorry," you say sincerely as you come to walk towards him. Seokjin stands straight from the pillar and takes a small step back at your approach. You stop, frowning.

"No, my love," he tells you with a small smile that is all too painful. "You do not have to force yourself if you do not wish for it."

"Oh Seokjin," your heart falls for him. He worries for you, not wanting anything to be forced no matter how much he wants it because he is a gentleman. Seokjin is afraid, you can see it in his sad smile, and if these past months has taught you anything, it'd be that you have come to understand them a little better without having to feel. "I promise you I am not feeling forced to do anything," you say as you start walking again and falling silently relieved when he does not move this time. "I'm sorry, I hadn't meant for this to happen when I kissed them."

"No," he sighs, "I know you did not. You have no need to apologize, I just-"

You take his hand once you come close enough and let your face sweetly nuzzle against his palm. You let him know that you want this, you truly do, and that you aren't afraid of it anymore. Perhaps another step further is still further in the future but right now, as you're taking things step by step, you want this, you want to share kisses with them. With all of them.

"I want this," you say it aloud as you gaze up at him with a sincere gaze.

He falls silent for a moment, just watching you as if he is mesmerized, as if he is entranced, and it only makes your heart flutter because you can hear his thoughts. "Really?" He asks though he can feel you. You respond with a small nod. "Hm," he hums softly, thinking. You want to laugh at how he's deciding to play hard to get with this and roll your eyes.

"Do you want it?"

"Do I?"

"I'll give it to you."

"Will you?"

It is even more hilarious when the two of you can understand the confirmed feelings by the touches so you chuckle and he follows along to the amusement, echoing your gentle laugh. "But just know," you hold up a finger, "I am no expert just because I have kissed the six of you already."

He hums. "I know."

But he makes no move and it leaves you standing flustered. "You..y-you can't," you stutter, "you cannot expect me to make the first move?"

Seokjin shrugs. "You did it with Jungkook."

"But that was just a little-"

"No excuses, my dear." he tells you, pouting. "Do you not believe that you owe me a little something? Hm?"

You mirror his pout and let out a small sigh. "Alright," you decide and take a deep breath. You don't know how you will ever get used to this when just one little peck gets you so flustered but because Seokjin is still a bit upset, you know you cannot refuse his request. You have to do this for him. So you place your hands on his shoulders, mimicking the action you had done with Jungkook and close your eyes shut with feet tip toeing up because he is tall, and press a kiss right on his lips before letting out a little crying sound as your head buries against his chest out of embarrassment.

The God of Stars laughs. "It's not funny," you chide with a pout and can still feel the lingering sensation of his lips.

"My sweet galaxy, do you really believe that I will accept a little peck as a kiss?" You huff and leave his arms with flushed cheeks, your pout deepening. He grins at the way your eyes refuses to meet his, knowing the exact reasons why. But he understands so he lets out a sigh. "Alright, I'll let this one slide since I love you and you're my shy little star."

He backs you up against the pillar, taking your face into a hand and squishing your cheeks. You don't know how he can act in such a way that makes your heart skip a beat but also be so playful about it. So you let out a soft whine, cheeks puffed out with your lips turned into a duck because of the way he holds your face. "Seokjin~"

He laughs that cute laugh that only makes things worse for your heart and you huff again. "Alright, alright," he says, calming down. At least he's feeling better so you know you aren't exactly upset with him. Seokjin smirks at the thought though there is an underlying soft fondness in his gaze as he feels thankful for you, only reminded of how much he loves you. Seokjin pulls your face forward and leans in, pressing a soft kiss but leaving too fast just like you had done.

You're about to say something when he leans in again, this time slower and more sensual. The grip upon your face releases and is replaced by both hands that holds you in a gentle manner as he presses you up further against the pillar. Your heart skips a beat, beating rapidly against your chest at how skillful and sweet he is. Your mind retraces back to those memories that belongs to him, knowing the God of Stars has the most experience in such field. He's had experience even before meeting his soulmates but who can blame him? His face alone will make anyone drop to the floor and it makes you a bit at a loss on how you should feel. He's yours now, so you won't have to worry about anyone else, right?

"Focus on me, sweet one," the God of Stars whispers against your lips to let you take a little breather for just a split second before he's capturing your lips and heart again. "I'm yours, my dear," he vows and nibbles along your lower lip. "I'm yours."

Your thoughts are filled with nothing but him while your heart continues to race on and on into the starry night.

.

.

.

The God of Sun watches you from the doorway while you sit in a comfortable armchair near the center of the room with a piece of clothing on your lap, thread and needle in a hand as you sew through something white and fuzzy onto the golden fabric. He smiles at the sight of peace and serene, knowing how you like to keep yourself busy and use some time to do things you like.

Most days you will read in Namjoon's library, or walk around tending to the garden, or becoming friendly with their elements; the wisteria, the sun, the stars, and the fishes in the ocean. Today you are in your own element, sewing something that looks like something they have gotten for you. You like to redesign a few things if you can, giving your own touches along their spoiled gifts because it makes you feel closer to them. He smiles at the sight, loving all that belongs to you. Your heart and thoughts are the most gentle out of everything.

Thunder rolls outside, causing your head to perk up and look on over towards the opening balcony where the windows instantly falls closed on their own upon the sound of rain beginning to fall from the clouds. It has been cloudy this whole day so it wasn't a surprise to Hoseok that it's beginning to rain but you look a little surprised, eyes probably too focused inside to notice the weather.

But you don't mind the rain because anything aside from the constant winter you had been used to back on the mountain is beautiful. Sunny days are gorgeous, rainy days are pretty.

A gasp that falls from your lips leaves him to quickly revert his attention back on you and he sees the way you whine as you hold up your forefinger, whimpering. Hoseok is by your side in an instant as he surprises you by picking you up and moving you towards the sofa where he sits you on his lap, a hand coming up to hold your pricked finger and hold it to his lips. One kiss alone is enough to heal the pain and take the blood away.

"Hoseok.."

"Did you not tell me once that a seamstress must never fall distracted?" He reminds you as he brings his lips to greet you on the temple.

"It was the thunder's fault," you pout and he erupts with a laugh before another voice walks in.

"You cannot blame mother nature for your moment of recklessness," Taehyung says.

At the sight of the rest of your Gods arriving, your heart flutters with excitement and Hoseok chuckles knowingly. "I have a question," you say clapping your hands together.

Jungkook takes the seat you had sat in before, Taehyung, Seokjin, and Jimin sitting on the sofa directly from you and Hoseok, while Namjoon sits across Jungkook and Yoongi comes on to settle himself beside you and Hoseok. "What is it?" The God of Knowledge prompts.

"Does it ever snow here?"

Jungkook raises a brow. "That sounds like you want for it to happen."

You shrug lightly as your eyes fall back on the work in your lap, returning to pick up your needle to begin threading through again. "I was just thinking," you say with a soft smile, "I don't think the snow will bring back bad memories anymore. After all, I was born on a snowy day and grew up with it my whole life. I just want to be reminded of the good times back on that mountain, be reminded of everyone there."

They watch you with a soft gaze, fondness falling upon them as they smile because of how much you've grown. Yoongi brushes your hair to the side, a hand stroking your cheek in a gentle manner. "We're so proud of you, little one."

You look up, beaming.

"Well, anything can happen," Jimin tells you. "We'll just have to wait for December to come."

"I came here around January," you remember, confused. "Shouldn't it have snowed then?"

Hoseok props his chin up against your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. "You wanted to meet Spring, remember? So we had to make it happen, because our sweet soulmate could not take the cold anymore and we didn't want you to continue suffering." Your heart blossoms with a thousand heartbeats that escalates, fingers pausing on the needle as you look up at Hoseok. He hears your thought and squeezes your side. "When it comes to you, love, we will do all the impossible just to make you smile."

You fall silent for a moment and can feel the tears beginning to brim as you look through his thoughts. "You were going to make it Spring  all year round?"

"Of course."

You have heard that Summer can grow very overheated, the sun becoming overwhelming from time to time that no mortal likes to leave the house just as Winter can get quite cold. But it's already been months, somewhere around July, and the heat has yet to come. This place is paradise because of them, being able to control the weather in however way they'd like, being able to make it Spring all year round just for you. Because you wanted to meet Spring. Because you liked Spring.

Your lips quiver as you drop your needle and turn to wrap your arms around the God of Sun. "Thank you," you whisper when the rest almost has a heart attack at your tears. It's soft, so much softer than the storm that falls outside. It doesn't scare you so you're fine, knowing the plants need their water from the clouds. And you know that no matter how quiet you may be, they hear you, they always hear you.

"Oh love," Hoseok sighs contently as the Gods come to surround the two of you.

They love you so much and everyday when you think you're already at the end, you end up falling deeper and deeper in love. Perhaps as the years passes on and on, the love will grow even more than it is at this moment. You are so blessed to have them in your life, to be saved by them, your soulmates. No other love will ever come to compare with theirs. "I'm so happy," you sniffle.

Yoongi sends you a gentle smile when you look up again to look at them all. His hands reaches out to cup your face, fingers brushing away the tears that have fallen. "We are too, my sweet muse." Namjoon hums softly in agreement while Jimin takes your little work to set it aside on the coffee table inside the circle of furniture so that the needle doesn't accidentally hurt you again.

"You may look pretty when you cry, my love, but we prefer your beautiful face when you smile instead," Taehyung says.

"Sorry," you giggle.

He beams, sighing. "There it is."

Seokjin takes a hand of yours. "We can make Winter return if you'd like. It will definitely not grow as cold as it was on the mountain, however, because we would never want you to freeze and see you in pain."

"Thank you." You squeeze his hand.

"I have another good news." You look on over at Jungkook with anticipation, head tilted just slightly to the side as you blink, wondering what he wants to say. He takes a second, pulling something out from his pocket then shows you his fist before opening it right in front of you. Your breath hitches at the sight, eyes widening and tearing up all over again when you catch sight of the nostalgic memory hidden on the object he holds out to you alone.

"My mother's bracelet..." you breathe when a tear falls and another comes. You had lost it one day traveling through the snow and because the strings were too frail to even hold together after you tried fixing it, it snapped and slipped right out of your wrist when you weren't paying attention. You tried to look for it when you realized it was no longer there but it had been impossible to do so under all that snow. "How..?"

"I saw it in your memories," the God of Hearth says as he smiles and gently goes to brush your tears, "so I retraced the steps back when I returned to the mountain. I know how much it means to you." The bracelet is in a much better condition, strings now strong and firm along with the colors of the beads looking as bright and new as it had been firstly given to your mother. You have no words, too touched that saying thank you again sounds too worthless to say so. But he hears you. He understands. The God of Hearth takes the bracelet to roll it onto your wrist with a smile.

While the rain continues falling and falling, dropping against the windowsill constantly, your heart is warmed with delight and love that you have no words that can perfectly describe how you feel. But that's okay because as long as your Gods are here, touching you, they can understand all that cannot be described with words. "I love you," you tell them instead, sniffling.

Namjoon chuckles. "No more tears, okay?"

You nod, wiping away the remaining tears on your own before showing them the smile that they love so much.

"That's right," Jimin muses, "you are the most beautiful when you smile."

[danniburgh]

The way you make me feel (Javier x f!reader x Steve)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Steve Murphy

Summary: It was on how you three had softened to each other. There was nothing wrong with it.

It was in the way you made each other feel. The only man Javier and Steve were willing to share you with was each other.

Word count: +2.7k

Chapter warnings: mentions of The War on Drugs of course, a hint of jealousy, lots of teasing and kisses, a sprinkle of angst here and there

A/N: so... yeah i made this lmao, this is fluff and i love it and MUSTACHE BOYFRIENDS NATION RISE, also, thank you so much to @bella-ciao​ for the help with some ideas and @queenofthefaceless​ for helping WITH THE TITLE ilysm guys

ao3 // Masterlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

gif: @pajamasecrets

“Whose turn for dinner?” Steve asked, standing up from behind his desk.

“Yours” you and Javi replied at the same time and you looked at each other. Steve huffed as you smiled at Javier and then at him.

“I want chicken,” you mumbled.

“You?” Steve turned at your partner and Javier only nodded, “fine, see you at home,” Steve put on his jacket and walked around his desk towards yours, you looked up at him and smirked when he turned to the office door window just to make sure no one was looking inside, leaned down and gave you a soft kiss on the lips, “drag him out of here on time,” he mumbled on your mouth and you rolled your eyes, nodding. 

Steve then walked towards Javier and did the same, a soft kiss and some words, then he walked out.

“He told you to not be late?” you asked Javier, who was lighting up another cigarette.

“You know him,” he mumbled, eyeing the closed door of the office Steve had just crossed through and lingering his gaze there for a second as you studied his face. It was as if he was remembering how you all got into the mess that was your relationship. He then turned to see you, winked and drowned himself back into the pile of paperwork in front of him.

You tried to do the same but failed, at the assumption of Javier thinking about the start of your relationship you couldn’t help but to think about it.

Colombia was a beautiful but hard place.

The War on Drugs wasn’t easy, and as a DEA agent you knew you had it easy. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard.

And certain situations, those that had brought the three of you together, made it even harder; for you it was both your courage and your gender, being a woman in the agency wasn’t easy at all, almost everyone doubted you and you had to get used to prove yourself worthy of attention before even proving that you were good at what you did, and when you met your two partners, they made it a lot easier, they already believed you could just by watching you pace around the embassy like you owned the place. So that was something that made you soften to them; for Javier it was between his reputation and the fact that he had been in the country years before you or Steve, he was known for making dubious things to get intel and you knew how much it weighed on him, he was a man who cared, who had a deep connection with not only the country and the culture but the war in itself, and he was a man willing to do what it took to keep on fighting, but you and Steve had shown him tenderness and had shown him you cared. So that was something that made him soften to you; for Steve it was both the fact that the country wasn’t what he expected, if he ever expected anything, and his divorce, he had showed up years before with wide eyes and so many ideas and a beautiful wife that just got tired and grew scared of everything that went on around her, so she took their daughter and left, and if Steve was a mess before hand he turned into an even deeper mess, but you and Javier pulled him out of the misery of what he thought his life had turned into and cared for him. So that was something that made Steve soften to you.

And the thing you three had, then? there wasn’t even a name for it.

You liked to call it a thruple, but Javier growled every time you mentioned it, called you both children even though he wasn’t that much older than you or Steve, and that made you and Steve laugh.

The only thing you three knew is the deep care, the deep understanding, the deep knowledge and the deep love you had about and for each other.

A soft tap on your desk brought you out of your reminiscence and you saw two light tanned fingers on the surface, the owner of them demanding your attention.

“Let’s go home,” Javier said, and waited for you to put files away while sitting on the edge of your desk and admiring the way you moved through the office.

For Javier, falling in love with you was something he didn’t even have to put effort on. You were beautiful, gorgeous in his eyes, smart as hell, strong and delicate at the same time. You were young and self assured and a badass and Javier couldn’t stop himself from falling in love with you even if he tried.

As you were making sure you had everything in your bag and went on to check Steve hadn’t forgotten anything, his mind traveled to the utter and complete mess he was when he realized he also loved Steve.

Javier always knew he wasn’t indifferent to men, and he knew he was attracted to Steve ever since they met. But Steve was married and that was the end of it. It wasn’t until Connie left and his friend sank into himself that he realized he cared deeply for him, as you did.

And once, while you made dinner at Steve’s place while the blond man tried to take a shower he blurted everything to you. Because the few moments Javier allowed himself to be truly vulnerable was only when he was in your arms, that was something he kept only for you. And it wasn’t out of distrust for Steve, he knew he could confide in him and he did. But you and your precious mind always knew how to soothe the restlessness of his brain even for an hour or two.

“Sounds to me like you’re in love,” you had told him, and Javier had huffed while his eyes went to the picture of Steve holding Olivia that was pinned on the fridge “you know there’s nothing wrong about it, right?” you had tried to reassure him and he had only nodded.

“It’s not that,” Javier had mumbled and he had let his deep brown gaze fall upon you.

“You love me too?” you had questioned and Javier only smiled at you and your incredible ability to read him like a book.

“I think I love you too,” you had confessed while fixing three plates with equal amounts of food.

“And Steve?” Javier had teased, reaching for three forks.

“And Steve,”

“Shall we?” you called him and he shook his head to make the memory fade. You walked next to each other out of the CNP headquarters towards the car, hopped in in silence and drove the fifteen minute way to the house you three shared while stationed in Medellín.

None of you said anything because the drive home, even if it was by yourselves or the three of you together, was a moment you used to shed away the DEA agent persona, it was something you all had agreed on taking as a way to let the work at work, at least as far as the circumstances allowed it and be just yourselves.

When Javier used his keys to open the door and let you in you saw Steve in the kitchen holding the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, struggling with a tray that Javier took from his hand. 

“Yes, I sent those as well,” you looked at Javier with a questioning gaze and he shook his head while taking off his jacket “I understand,” Steve looked at you and you saw his deep blue eyes conflicted, you tried to give him a reassuring smile but you weren’t sure it had reached the place you wanted it to “can you put her on the phone?” he said, Javier was emptying his pockets on the kitchen counter and then walked to take your bag from your hand and put it next to his and Steve's badges “hi baby,” Steve’s face lit up and Javi and you instantly knew he was speaking to Olivia.

As you had made sure Steve was okay you fell into your now old routine. You served dinner while Javier cleared out the table and Steve reluctantly hung up the phone and reached for three beers in the fridge.

“How is she?” you asked once the three of you were seated and dining.

“She’s good, stopped teething,” Steve muttered and you noticed Javier narrowing his eyes, as if he was trying to grasp the concept.

“And… Connie?” your tone was tentative and you searched for his ocean eyes, as you and Javier liked to call them.

“She’s good, sends her regards,” Steve drank from his beer and Javier snorted.

“Javi,” you half chastised half whined.

“Sends her regards?” Javier smirked as he lit a cigarette and gave it to Steve.

“Her words, man,” Steve took it and puffed from it.

“I mean, it’s weird, cut her some slack,” you said, taking the cigarette from Steve’s fingers.

“So you’re defending one of your boyfriend’s ex-wife, now?” Javier teased and Steve chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying, it’s an odd thing,” you shrugged and puffed from the cigarette.

“I mean yeah, your ex-husband suddenly starts fucking both his partners, I bet is odd,” Javier muttered, Steve and you sighed at Javier’s words and before either of you could say anything to him the house phone rang.

“Not it,” you and Steve called at the same time and Javier rolled his eyes, standing up to answer it.

“Yeah,” he answered, Steve turned to look at you and leaned to give you a kiss that tasted like the store-bought roasted chicken, lager and smoke, “no she’s here, one sec,” Javier walked back to the table and looked at you “it’s for you,” you frowned and stood up “it’s Morales,” he muttered, serious faced, and you saw him and Steve both tightening their jaws, making you roll your eyes.

You walked towards the phone feeling two pairs of eyes on your body and you smiled to yourself when you picked up the receiver and answered.

Javier and Steve looked at you and then at each other.

“I don’t trust him,” Steve muttered to Javi, who only shook his head “he clearly wants something with her,” Javier huffed.

“He wants everything with her,” Javier said between gritted teeth and both of them grunted when you let out a soft giggle and said gracias, Luis to the phone. “I wanna hurt that man,” 

“I’ll hold him,” Steve muttered, you caught the last part while you hung up the phone and smiled at them.

“No one is gonna hurt anybody,” you lifted a finger to emphasize. 

“He clearly wants you,” Javier frowned and Steve agreed with him.

“Well I already have to take care of two men, do you think I want another one?” you laughed out and sat back down, grabbing your bottle of beer “I like him, but as a friend.” you assured them. Steve visibly relaxed but Javier didn’t.

“That’s what you told me and look at us,” he said, Steve narrowed his eyes at you and you rubbed your forehead.

You loved them, you really did, and the fact that they loved each other as much as they loved you made your heart swell with happiness, but they could be pricks and jealous assholes. The only person they were willing to share you with was each other. No one else.

“Can you stop?” you pleaded, looking at both “I don’t want to be with anyone else but you two,” you reassured them, Steve smiled at you and took your hand in his, Javier took a little more convincing “I love you,” you smiled, looking at him and tightening the grip on Steve’s hand.

“Jav,” Steve called out to him “tell her you love her,” he demanded, making you laugh. At the sound of you laughing Javier’s feigned mean face broke into a smirk.

“I love you too,”

Steve let go of your hand and after that you fell into work chatter while you finished eating, because Morales had called you with new intel about the cartel and it was you. Of course you were gonna talk about work over dinner.

A couple of hours later you were resting on Javier’s naked chest, sitting between his legs while chilling on the bed and sharing a cigarette, your free hand roaming up and down his tight while the both of you were looking at Steve getting out of the shower.

“Are you seriously getting dressed right now?” you teased him when you saw him reach for some briefs inside the closet, feeling Javier’s chest move with his chuckle.

“You know we're gonna undress you anyway, right?” Javier teased as well behind you, making Steve huff and drop the underwear on the floor.

“Fine,” he grunted and crawled on the bed to lay his wet head on your lap.

Your hand found its place playing with Steve’s blond hair and while you did that and shared a cigarette with Javi, Steve let himself remember how he realized he had fallen in love with both.

His divorce wasn’t messy, Connie had talked to him about it and it was an agreement, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. As his life as he had known it for years was about to change permanently. The only thing that gave him a small sense of stability was you and Javi. Always there, always present, always willing to help.

You, with words, always reassuring him and caring about him and asking how he was doing and checking up on him; Javi, without them, bringing him food and making sure he ate it, knocking on his door and dragging him out of the apartment to take him to dinner with him and you, calling him at exactly six fifteen each morning to wake him up and make sure he got to work on time.

He didn’t know he could feel something like that for a man, he was scared at first, and he told you that. Because while Javier confided in you his vulnerabilities, Steve confided you his deepest fears.

“I just… I don’t know why I feel like this,” he had told you, halfway drunk, gripping your hand. And you had smiled at him.

“It’s the first time you feel like that for another man?” you had asked and he nodded like a child caught with his hands and clothes all muddy “but you know there’s nothing wrong with it, right?” the same question you were to ask Javier about a couple weeks later.

“It isn’t,” Steve had mumbled to himself, and to you it sounded like a question.

“It isn’t” you had told him in reassurance, and when he looked at you with those big blue puppy eyes you knew it. And Steve had thrown himself at you and kissed you for what it felt like hours.

And then, when he was about moving on, cleaning his house of the rest of Connie’s things to send them to her, Javier helping, he had cornered him and with pleading eyes asked him to kiss him. And Javier did it without hesitation.

Steve would never forget the way Javier’s lips felt in his that first time, and how a single kiss from the only man he had ever loved in his life made his body feel tons lighter.

The sound of you moaning woke him up from his reminiscence and he turned around to see Javier’s hand cupping your breasts and his lips devouring your neck. Your eyes opened and you bit your lip, raising a hand for him to take.

He took it and you pulled him to you to grab his lips on a kiss while Javier’s hands roamed around your body.

You broke the kiss and leaned up to lick and nip on the skin of his neck, as Javier’s hands kept exploring your skin and Steve grabbed Javi by the nape, trapping his lips on a kiss.

It was going to be a long night.

pedrito's perma list: @queenofthefaceless @northernpunk​ @pascalesque​ @sleep-tight1​ @cheekygeek05​ @bii-aan-ckaa​ @letaliabane​  @starlightmornings​ @mouthymandalorianalso​

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd​

[lansyuan]

do you love fics where wei wuxian and lan wangji parent the crap out of lan sizhui? do you want to read accidental baby acquisition fics until your eyes bleed? would you die as your heart slowly turns to mush from the softness of this family? bitch the fuck, me too. here are some of my personal favourite fics of wangxian ft their turnip son a-yuan. its a range of canon divergence, post canon, thirteen years of inquiry, raising a-yuan at the burial mounds au etc - there’ll be something for literally everyone. enjoy!

the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (38k+)

When A-Yuan gets sick and Wen Qing doesn't have the supplies she needs to properly treat him, Wei Wuxian can only think of one place to go for help. 

a crying shame by thunderwear (16k+)

Lan Wangji gets emotionally blackmailed by a toddler. It somehow fixes everything.

to recollect and long for by wonderlands (22k+) *2/3 works posted at time of posting this rec list.

a 3-part series about best boy lan sizhui and his wonderful dads who love him and each other very much.

forgetting envies, remembering your loving hold by cosmicfuss (3k+)

The first time Zewu-jun plays for him he is five and the man is trying to comfort him, playing soft songs good for soothing children. It works to a degree but he wants his gege, he wants his gege to play his lullaby. Zewu-jun apologizes and tells him that his gege is hurting right now, and needs to be alone to get better.

When he plays the xiao, A-Yuan says, "you're holding it wrong!" When he turns fourteen, he learns to play guqin, and is many years ahead of his classmates in that regard. A large factor in that is how much he has practiced Inquiry. He has grown up hearing snippets from the jingshi, of Wangji attempting to reach a spirit that never answers.

When he's sixteen, he hears a familiar tune played in the forest, he and his fellow juniors battling a stone god. It's been years since he's heard it, and he wonders why this man, Mo Xuanyu, knows it so well.

Or, Lan Sizhui grows up and learns, and remembers.

five times wei wuxian tried to embarrass lan sizhui by blackelement7 (6k+)

(and one time he realized just how badly he'd played himself)

or: In which Wei Wuxian starts a fight but Lan Sizhui (with some meddling from Lan Jingyi) ends it.

inquiry by incendir (10k+)

Sizhui cannot fall asleep for a long, long time that night. He hears the ever-familiar melody again. He thinks perhaps he has memorized it by now.

storge by respira (9k+)

Lan Sizhui is a lake.

as the warren grows in number by kore_fics (3k+)

Before Sizhui could take another step he was surrounded by black and red, loud laughter in his ears and warm fingers running through his hair, messing it up. Palms squished both his cheeks together and Lan Sizhui let out a laugh.

Lan Sizhui was home.

tell some storm* by qurbat (31k+) *the moments with Sizhui are in chapter 2, however I highly recommend reading the whole fic, it’s adorable.

"We were raised as a generation of war, A-Yuan," Xian-gege said to him. "If your generation choses to be one of love - well, I don't think any of us would be opposed to that."

In the aftermath of the events at the Guanyin temple, the cultivation world scrambles to understand their current reality. A man roams the countryside with a string of white in his hair. Another sits on the highest seat of power with a ribbon of red around his forehead. The younger generation turns out to be full of romantics. Nie Huaisang is to blame for everything, always. Jiang Cheng realizes that happiness has been more that 16 years overdue.

Wei Wuxian declares that it's time that bitch pays up.

After a generation of war - much to the consternation of the elders, much to the delight of the young, much to the pleased shock of the subjects of the tale - the world welcomes a love story with open arms.

guess we're not eating leaves today by missingnarwhal (2k+)

Baby A-Yuan has cooked up a feast, but only one lucky gege will actually get to taste it!

Set in an alternate timeline where everything is okay after Wei Ying + Wens started living in the Burial Mounds.

response by aki_no_hikari (12k+)

What if Wei Wuxian hadn't been silent to Lan Wangji's Inquiry?

love, in all its small pieces by ynvel (4k+)

Ah Yuan is brought to the Cloud Recesses and exchanges the sun and its ashes for the clouds. Lan Wangji brings a boy home, calls him his son, and renews the promises he made.

Or: Lan Sizhui is adopted by Lan Wangji and learns about his new life. Lan Wangji in turn learns about hope and living again.

child surprise by ariaste (4k+)

He huffs a sigh. “Fine. Just - let’s just make it the law of surprise, shall we? That’s nice and simple, eh? Leave it up to destiny what will bring us back in balance. Let it drop something of yours into my lap, something small, and we’ll call the debt paid.”

Three debts, three repayments.

there's a lunatic in mo village by bastetcg (11k+)

There's a lunatic in Mo Village! And to Lan Sizhui's surprise, Hanguang-Jun has decided to bring the madman back to the Cloud Recesses! How embarrassing!

A mostly canon-compliant look into Lan Sizhui's thoughts and childhood.

on being a big boy by emberloey (1k+)

“My little A-Yuan,” Dad had said the next morning, kneeling down to A-Yuan’s height with a smile, “all grown up now. Soon you’ll be hunting without your poor old dads.”

“Never!” A-Yuan shook his head and latched onto Father’s leg. He smiled up at Father, who smiled back and nodded his head. “A-Yuan always needs Dad and Father!”

in all these shades of blue (i think we found you) by fleetling (5k+)

5 times Sizhui thought about his father's white robes, and 1 time Lan Wangji wore blue.

(Or: Lan Sizhui had never seen his father in anything other than white robes.)

this is when the feeling sinks in, i don't want to miss you like this (come back, be here) by mischievousmurmurs (6k+)

Just now… the butterflies’ conversation. Where did you learn that from, Ah-Yuan?

Ah-Yuan pats his chest. In here, shushu. I feel it in here. And in here, too, he adds, pointing to his head.

Sizhui has never quite been able to remember nor forget the memory of seeing people who he knows loved each other, loved him, and whom he loved in return.

or - a wangxian story, as told by their adopted son.

yours, mine, and ours by casecous (2k+)

When they have both mostly recovered, and A-Yuan is back to his smiling, playful self, Lan Wangji presents him with a forehead ribbon. A-Yuan’s little fingers bump into Lan Wangji’s thumbs as he traces the cloud motif along it.

“You are Lan now. This is very important,” Lan Wangji tells him and A-Yuan looks away from the ribbon to meet his eyes. “You must not take it off as you please. Only family may touch it.”

A series of wangxian family moments.

innocence by snowberryrose (8k+)

In which Wei WuXian gets to raise A-Yuan.

Canon divergence from episode 31.

to recollect and long for by mme_anxious (4k+)

Lan Xichen is there when his brother becomes a father. Lan Sizhui is there when his father's heart breaks, again. Wei Wuxian is there when his son gets drunk for the first time.

Or, the GusuLan forehead ribbon, in three parts.

our little one by writedeku (6k+)

A-Yuan is here. A-Yuan, who Wei Ying loved so much. A-Yuan, who was taught to laugh just like him. Wangji hugs him to his chest and curls over him, ignoring the way the wounds on his back pull and tear. “I have to take care of you,” he says. “I will not leave you.”

(Or: Lan Wangji comes back from Yiling with a child he does not know how to care for and a black hole in his chest. Somehow, he makes it work.)

gathered herbs & sweet grasses by hansbekhart (19k+)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

the sacred homeland by particulate (8k+)

He has many names, and some are mouthfuls of blood.

[Or; a chronology of Sizhui, in which he does not forget.]

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (19k+)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

when he comes home to you by kika988 (2k+)

Home is Cloud Recesses now, and that's a thing Wei Wuxian is still getting used to. He still feels like a guest here, most days, though Lan Wangji has done everything to make him feel at home. He stands out like a sore thumb amongst the serene disciples and flowing white fabric.

Cloud Recesses has been home to Lan Wangji and Sizhui for years. It is their home, where they've built their family.

The thought warms Wei Wuxian even as it sits a little ill with him. He's an intruder here, in their homes, in their lives, the same way he had been in Lotus Pier.

five times people didn’t know sizhui is lan zhan’s son and one time they did by trilliastra (3k+)

“A-Yuan.” He repeats, reaching out for the boy, growing restless when he can’t touch him. “A-Yuan.”

Oh. Lan Xichen closes his eyes as the tears start to fall. Oh, Wangji.

Carefully, Lan Xichen takes the boy and lays him next to his brother on the bed, Wangji holds him protectively against his chest and A-Yuan stops his little cries immediately.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen tries again, running a hand through his brother’s hair softly, “who is he?”

“He’s my son.”

5 times the lan head disciple broke the rules by liji (6k+)

“I am not aware of any rule forbidding falling in love,” Hanguang-Jun said at last. There was a quiet sadness in his eye, like he was watching a scene from far away. The novelty of it gave Sizhui the courage to ask his next question.

“Have you ever been in love, Father?” he asked.

(or, five times that Sizhui broke the Lan sect's rules growing up)

the seasons change (but i love you the same) by kdkdkd (7k+)

"Hanguang-jun!"

When did you stop calling me Bàba, A-Yuan?

Lan Wangji had always promised himself that he would never become a poor father like his own had been.

Unfortunately, it feels like he has failed to keep that promise.

✨ bonus round ✨ uncle jiang cheng and nephew lan sizhui

tintinnabulum by respira (8k+)

A small bell chimes, the sound soft and pleasant like the water crashing against a pier, like low whistles in an empty cave, like a guqin playing a lullaby.

[ask19thcentury-doctorgilbert]

Hey there! I thought I’d answer this ooc because Gilbert would never give a straight answer to these questions and after last night’s post I’m really down to talk more in depth about the doc’s mental health.

But before I dive into that, I just wanted to say thank you? I’m really glad to know that you think I do a good job at handling the portrayal of his mental health struggles, that really means a lot and is one of the best compliments I’ve been given ;v; I try to be as realistic and sensitive as I can and I’m glad to know that it pays off!

Alright, onto some headcanon rambling. Fair warning, this post is long and I go off into several tangents sdjjkds

Trigger warnings for the content below: depression, anxiety, suicide, childhood neglect / abuse, self-harm, and bad coping habits.

There’s at least 6 points in Gil’s life wherein his mental health was at its worst: the death of his father, the majority of his duchy years, frederick’s death, the napoleonic era, the entire stretch of the gdr era, and those years between the fall of the wall and him leaving to go to university in Zurich. I can write an entire post about each of those times, but for the sake of answering these asks, I’ll be focusing mainly on the first point and his crusader years.

To answer the first question, I think Gilbert’s first major depressive episode happened when he was a child after his adoptive father, Otmar Beilschmidt, died. He was a constant, comforting presence in the boy’s early life; someone he knew he can depend on and turn to if things ever got too scary or overwhelming. Even after he got ‘turned’ into a representative and the heads of the Order formally took him in, little Gisil still kept being stuck to his father’s hip. And Otmar, as unsettled as he was to find out that his son was suddenly some kind of miracle child, did his best to come to terms with it and help his son cope with his new nature too.

(Slightly off topic side note but I always had the idea that Otmar never really got over reacting with shock whenever he witnessed anything that confirmed that his son wasn’t fully human anymore, like watching a small scratch stitch itself back together. Gisil, being a perceptive and sensitive child, would catch on to that quick and I’m 100% sure he’s asked his father if he was afraid of him before. To which I’m sure Otmar told a half-truth and said that no, he wasn’t afraid of him --- After all, how could he be afraid of someone that God created to bring some good into the world?)

Either way, the sudden loss of that steady, dependable figure in his life really knocked Gisil’s world out of balance and triggered his first major depressive episode. He wouldn’t eat much at mealtimes and found it hard to sleep at night which would then translate into the kid being far more irritable and restless than usual during the day; prone to tantrums and crying if something didn’t go his way. But instead of someone sitting down and trying to understand why he was acting out, he was chastised for acting the way he did; told that he was allowed to grieve his father, but he had to be more mature about it and behave better. Not wanting to disappoint the adults who would be looking after him now, Gisil taught himself how to swallow back the hurt and put a lid on it. It didn’t make him hurt any less, in fact it may have started to translate into physical symptoms like a mildly upset stomach or a headache, but it didn’t bother anyone and his new parental figures seemed to approve so he just came to accept that it must be the right thing to do.

While he eventually got over the worst of the pain relating to his father’s death (or at least learned how to stuff it far enough in the back of his mind that he could pay it no mind) those symptoms continued to quietly haunt him. Mikael was prone to having trouble sleeping in the night (and he often passes the time by practising his writing, or sometimes he’ll get up and sneak out of the sleeping quarters to just sit in the chapel. sometimes praying, sometimes just sitting quietly and hoping that the silence and the coolness coming from the stone walls would somehow lull him to sleep) and to having days where he acts more hot-headed and impulsive than usual. 

The disconnect between desperately wanting to be the ‘good’ person he believes he was created to be and some of the awful things the Order has done to do ‘good’ in the name of God also feeds into that depression and anxiety, especially when he keeps bottling it up because he really has no one to talk to about these things and because that’s what he’s used to doing. This internal conflict will eventually bubble over in his Duchy years, a period of time where Gilbert’s whole mental and emotional well-being was incredibly fragile. (If you wanna read more about what happened during that time, I have an old post about it here. Trigger and content warnings are at the very beginning!)

As for the second question, I think it’s safe to say Gilbert was messed up by essentially being a child soldier. Physical damage doesn’t stay long but the mental/emotional damage was extensive.

Even if his first depressive episode was triggered by his father’s death, the things he saw and experienced during his time as the representative of the Teutonic Order, definitely helped to make things worse. All the bad habits and symptoms he experienced in his youth continue to haunt him until adulthood. Gilbert would still rather brush someone’s concern off with an ‘I’m fine’ coupled with a reassuring smile than risk bothering them with whatever he’s dealing with. Since staying with Konrad and Reiner (who have their own struggles that deserve its own post) he’s learned to open up a little more with enough prompting, but he’d still much rather keep his problems to himself. He still regularly struggles with insomnia that gets worse when he finds himself in a slump, which then translates to frustration, irritability, and a tendency to neglect self care like forgetting to eat. He’s struggled with suicidal thoughts before and has made an attempt on two occasions: once in his Duchy years, the other right after the Napoleonic Era came to a close.

I think another thing that really added fuel to the fire is just the nature of Gil’s existence? Like most nations in his generation have had the chance to just roam around being children in their childhood, some might have even been cared for by the ancients, but he’s never had any of that? He had 10 years of it as a regular human child and then another 8 years after he was ‘turned’ of simply tending to sick and injured pilgrims. He had only 18 years of relative normalcy before he was thrown into a life of constant war, made out to be some holy figurehead, while I feel like most others had much longer. His ability to compartmentalize, to separate the self from the nation, was lacking compared to others in his cohort because he was just so young, physically and in nation years, when he was thrown into the mess. He’s a child nation who’s still young enough to remember his life as a human, to remember what it’s like to think and feel and to fear like a human and I think that messed with his ability to cope. Templar and Hospitaller might be the only ones who can understand what that was like since I think they were thrown into the fire relatively quickly after they were turned as young kids, but Ezekiel is far away and Sanson... Well, we all know what happened to poor Sanson.

The good news is, in the modern day, he is doing so much better since he started regularly meeting with a therapist and getting on the right medication regimen. It took him a while to really accept the fact that he needs help, even if logically he knew this was the right thing to do. There are still bad days but the genuinely good days far outnumber them now and that’s worth the uphill climb that is trying to sort out his issues.

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Imagine the Fellowship comforting you, as you reveal your Aro/Ace identity to them

Requested by: @a-dragon-under-the-stars

I was wondering if you could write a gen or maybe qpp (x reader) oneshot where the reader is aroace and they're feeling unaccepted. The fellowship helps the reader then?

AN: I researched the topic, to ensure I got it right, and started relating a little too much, and now I’m questioning my identity. Alas! Enjoy the product of head scratching, and muttering ‘is it an emotional attachment thing, or is this me too??’

‘Either come back with a husband, or don’t come back at all’ – the last thing your mother had said to you, before you’d set out on the Fellowship’s journey.

Though you resented the idea greatly, you knew better than to argue with your mother. Of course, this left you at wrath with yourself. Here you were, travelling with those you’d rather call friends, but were instead sorting through them – as potential suitors, no less!

There were many feasible candidates, and at least two royals in your company. Your mother had placed great emphasis on that particular fact, but you knew she’d be happy either way, so long as you returned home with a lifelong partner.

However, as mentioned before, you found yourself rather at war, with no one but your own mind – and heart.

You see, that was just the thing – your heart cared not for what your mind thought. It had no attraction to any of the males in your presence, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why!

They were all so handsome, and single! Even the ranger, Aragorn, no longer had ties to that Elven lady from Rivendell.

Legolas, the prince, was high on your radar. He had flowing blonde locks, a tall frame and a charming smile. Your mother would be very proud, if you returned home with him linked through your arm.

Of course, then there were the two human men. Boromir and Aragorn were both very similar in heart and spirit, and you knew for sure they’d make wonderful husbands.

Gimli the Dwarf made you chuckle, but you knew he had great social standing, within his own culture.

The Hobbits were last on your list, but they were most agreeable, nonetheless. Frodo, Merry and Pippin, the three cousins, allegedly stood very high in their society, back in the Shire.

Gandalf also travelled with you, but you halted your thoughts, before anything else could be birthed within your mind.

So many great males you travelled with, and yet, you had no hope of romancing them – it simply wasn’t in you to accomplish.

You felt at unease for days, and the Fellowship soon noticed. Your stomach churned and churned, as you wondered how your mother would react, to you returning home without one of them. The other half of you, was restless over the idea of actually returning home with one of them. You would be miserable, forcing both your heart and body to do things it had no interest in.

You felt incomplete, in a way, as if when your soul was crafted, such finite details were neglected. How would you ever honour your family tree, if you couldn’t carry on the ancestral legacy?

It was one big mess – one your newly found friends wished to help you with.

You sat around the campfire, with your head in your hands. The males all glanced between one another, as they revered you in concern.

You thought you had been discreet in your troubled antics, but apparently, at the gentle calling of Aragorn’s voice, you had not been.

“Y/n?” Aragorn called, stoking the fire, as he glanced at you sideways. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

Aware that tears were in your eyes, and had been running down your cheeks, you lifted your head. You sniffled loudly, shocking both yourself, and your friends.

“I’m fine,” you lied, wiping at your nose. “Thank you for asking.”

“Clearly not,” Legolas huffed, creasing his brows at you. “It doesn’t take Elven eyes to observe your saddened state.”

“Aye, we are your friends,” Gimli promised, slurping at his stew. “If you can’t tell us, then who can you tell?”

You lifted your head more, and knitted your own brows at the group. They gave you their undivided attention, and some even shuffled in their seats, as to better pay attention to you.

Their endearment warmed your heart, and you couldn’t help but feel it swell three times bigger in response. You even offered your own smile, as their sincerity was just too lovely.

Sighing, you averted your eyes to the ground, and replied. Your voice was small, and barely above a mumble. However, they had all heard you.

“I don’t want to marry any of you,” you said sheepishly.

Silence ensued around the camp, as the boys all looked between one another. Who among them had desired to court you, so much so that they had asked for your hand in marriage? Worse yet, why would you taunt them so cruelly, as to announce said rejection in everyone’s presence?

“Did…one of us…ask you, for your hand?” Boromir slowly said, glancing at the Hobbits and Legolas – whom he assumed were the most viable candidates.

You cringed deeply, for you quickly realized that you’d have to reveal your mother’s ulterior motives.

“Not exactly,” you winced. “I don’t know how to say this, without coming across as scheming, but…my mother…she told me to marry one of you.”

Silence ensued again, and you kept your eyes on the ground. That is, until Pippin chirped aloud.

“I’ll marry you!” he offered, grinning brightly. “Our children would be rather tall, that way!”

“That’s just the thing,” you huffed, rolling your eyes – amused nonetheless. “I don’t think I want any of that.”

“How so?” Aragorn gently asked, looking at you fully, as he continued meddling with the fire.

“Well,” you swallowed your nerves, “I know what tags along with marriage, and relationships, and I don’t know if there’s something wrong with me, but…I don’t feel inclined towards any of it? I don’t know, I’m just not interested? It’s hard to explain, but forcing those kind of things feels wrong somehow…am I just crazy?”

“Absolutely not,” Frodo promised – smiling, and nodding once in your direction. “I know so, because I’m the exact same.”

“What?” you incredulously asked, gaping across at the Hobbit.

“I feel the same as you,” he repeated. “I too do not have any interest in romance, or the things that ensue afterwards…nor did my uncle, for that matter.”

The Hobbit blushed at his own innuendo, regarding what ensures after marriage. He looked away, with a clearing of his throat.

Legolas’ brows were raised, and he pursed his lips to the side. ‘Can’t relate’, the young Elf thought. Boromir and Aragorn merely only nodded in understanding, as they mulled over both yours and the Hobbit’s admittance.

“I too, will jump on this bandwagon,” Gandalf piped up, having been sat and smoking against a tree the whole time. “It might be because I am a Maia, but even in my Middle-earth form, I do not crave such relations. If you’re crazy, or incomplete, then so am I – and I was made in Eru’s image.”

You suddenly perked up at the wizard’s words, and offered him an eye-squinting smile.

“Doesn’t seem that weird to me,” Gimli mused, shrugging his shoulders. “I know a few Dwarves who felt the same – Thorin, for one. At least, that’s what my father says.”

“It seems the rest of us are in the minority,” Aragorn smiled, glancing between the other Hobbits, Legolas and Boromir. “I wouldn’t fret at all, Y/n. It all seems perfectly natural to me. And regarding your mother, well…if her words ever cause doubt in your heart, remember ours instead; you are valid – just as valid as both Gandalf, and Frodo.”

You steadily beamed brightly, and found tears warming your eyes again. However, this time, they were out of the joy lighting up in your heart.

“Thank you, guys,” you said, nodding around at all of them. “I’m glad I have you all.”

[elionwriter]

Since I'm not sure I want to write new, full Fanfictions right now (I'm already working on a Good Omens one) I'm just gonna post some Star Wars/ Dinluke headcanons and prompts and ask you guys if you want me to flesh them out.

PART 1:

Their meeting and the events on board of Moff Gideon's light cruiser change things quite radically for both Din Djarin and Luke Skywalker. On Din's side, without the child actively in his care he is left without a proper goal and without a proper path. He can't go back being a simple bounty hunter, mostly because the ones he did it for are gone...

So what now? He always knew he would do anything to bring Grogu's mission to a proper end but he never actually thought of what would happen after. Nor did he immagine that it would leave him so shattered, broken and lonely.

Is it stubborn denial that his business with the child is over that makes him investigate further about the matter? A part of him wants to believe that yes, yes it is, but something about it just doesn't sit right with him. As Dr. Pershing is brought back as a prisoner to New Republic forces he is thoughtfully interrogated about his work and his part in the operations of the empirial cell. The man doesn't give his interrogators a hard time, answering everything as honestly as he can, but doesn't seem to know much afterall. Din can't help but feel somewhat sorry for him: he was taught cloning engineering by the last Kaminoans alive, apparently another species the Empire had decided were better off exterminated and forgotten after fulfilling their purpose. Except they hadn't, not completely, and now experts on the subject were even more rare than beskar. The Dr. was one of them and his knowledge and capacity was the only thing keeping him alive after the empirials sought him out. Whether or not he had any real sympathy for the imps was rather irrelevant and they were his one remaining shot at doing his actual job (there wasn't really a high demand for clones nowadays). He followed Moff Gideon's orders but he knew that the orders were actually coming from much higher up. Who was pulling the strings and what they ultimately wanted, he didn't know. They didn't trust him with those informations. All he knew was that they needed him to create a body with the kid's life expectancy and his M count. They had kidnapped and experimented on other force sensitive children but none of them seemed to have Grogu's qualities and were disposed of. When the guard told him to stand up to be brought back to his cell, the doctor looked at Din and asked "Is the child safe?" "Yes, he is." Answered the mandalorian and the other nodded exhausted "Good, that's good. Thank you." Din nodded back to him and watched him leave.

The only reason Din had been allowed to follow the interrogation was obviously Cara Dune, which had delivered Dr. Pershing and Gideon to the authorities. Cara was however busy talking with someone he didn't know, another woman, a very elegant and majestic one at that. He couldn't help but notice the friendly and intimate tone the conversation seemed to have. Cara later introduced her to him as senator Leia Organa -Solo, a legend of the Rebellion and the Princess of Aldeeran. Suddenly the two's steadyfast bond became very clear. Apparently, the Senator found the story about the two prisoners extremely distressing and had already "her best man" look into it. She spoke very kindly to Din and, as a true politician, thanked him for his services to the Republic. Din quickly changed subject and asked if Moff Gideon had revealed anything more useful than the doctor.

As expected, Gideon hadn't been as collaborative and hadn't spoken a word since he was brought in. Something in his demeanor, however, had definitely shifted and below the ever guarded and secure facade there was worry. 'That's the face of a man in deep shit! We aren't the ones he's scared of though, one can only guess what makes a guy like him fret like that...' said Cara without bothering to hide her worry.

That was the reason why Din, in the little breakes he stole from the collaboration he had fallen into with Bo-Katan and the other mandalorians, kept searching for answers. The something or someone that scared Gideon had to mean danger. And if there was danger out for Grogu it would ALWAYS be his business.

That's when he realized who the princess' "best man" was. Luke Skywalker had apparently been searching for answers too and it's during one of these occasions that they newly meet. They have a common goal and pupil to protect but very diverse skill sets and areas of expertise. That's why on the hush-hush they agree to meet occasionally when either of them seems to have some new information or lead. Neither of them properly introduces to the other, there's really no need for that, and their partnership remains for some time elusive at best. Din is a naturally secretive and private man, the Jedi on the other hand, seems to have become it, a necessity rather than an inclination. Luke doesn't ever bring Grogu along nor does he mention him, after assuring the other that the child is safe and well. Din doesn't ask. And yet, the most restless one of the two about it is the Jedi. Just like Luke can feel Din's ever present affection and sense of duty toward Grogu, Din can sense that the other is very uneasy on the matter, like two parts of him are constantly battling over something. Again, he doesn't ask.

Despite all this, however, their relationship is far from strained. There is a mutual and instinctive trust and respect between them and it becomes quickly very clear that they work well together. During the nights they have to camp or during the trip in hyperspace the two talk. They discuss about their dying creeds, their principals and beliefs, fighting techniques and recount some of their old adventures. After a while, they open up enough to discuss of their situation and daily challenges and earnestly seek the other's opinion and advice on how to face them.

Din learns that Luke is still a figure on which the New Republic sometimes relies upon, even if only for extremely delicate situations; that he spent the last few years travelling throughout the galaxy looking for lost Jedi artifacts and knowledge, hoping to learn how to best bring the order back to life for new generations of force users (expecially his young nefew); that during said travels he always made a point to help those in need and right wrongs where he saw them; that he still found himself dealing with loose ends of the Empire.

On the other hand, Luke learns of Bo-Katan's quest to reclaim Mandalore; of Din's search for knowledge and history on a culture that should be his own but that he progressively realizes he knows very little about; of his uncertainty on where he stands both with his creed and his peers and the aggravation of the dark saber which he is currently the wielder and protector of.

They feel for each other. No, they understand each other. Even as words completely fail to reveal the most critical parts of these conversations. What they do understand is this: nothing seems to make anymore any fuc****ng sense in their lives! That everything was much more simple when they were just a bounty hunter and a farm boy.

It's not that Din doesn't want to find other Mandalorians and help his people. He and Bo-katan may not always see eye to eye, but they both made extremely clear how loyal they are to their creed. It's just that Din doesn't know anymore if he still has a right to that title and to the armour he wears, if everything he was taught was a lie or not. He broke a lot of rules for the child and can't decide if that is for the best or not.

Luke, on the other hand, can't decide what to make of the Jedi teachings and contradictions he has collected. How can he act like expected and pass on lessons he himself isn't really sold on. It was his family and his ties that kept him alive and safe from the dark when facing the Emperor and his father, but it was also attachments and the Jedi's taboos that had damned his father to begin with. Should he encourage the complete detachment the old texts preached about, should he too talk only of light and cast a shadow on everything that didn't fall in that limited range of the force? But most importantly: should he keep his young apprentice from his beloved father and pointedly ignore the warm flame the mandalorian had effortlessly lit up in him?

Luke can't help but notice that when he slips and gets a bit too close, a bit too intimate and touchy with the other man, the mandalorian doesn't push him away and seems to answer this boldness with an awkward, shy breathlessness. While a part of him knows, Luke doesn't allow himself to hope or acknowledge that flicker in his chest might be mutual.

[luxmaeastra]

The wind howled outside, the faebane and blood poison wasn't helped with the extreme cold. The Loyalists he supposed were ignoring all the rules of war now. He would have been proud to know their wins were unnerving them.

But Mirren curled more in the blankets of the bed, her skin was pale and clammy even with the fire roaring around them.

She'd come to see him, having not seen him in months. This was supposed to be a moment of respite for him and his warriors. He knew he wasn't the only one whose family had come to see them. He didn't even know the death toll now. He was sure in the low hundreds now. He couldn't bring himself to ask or check. He ran a hand through her hair, silently cursing and thankful the illness was sparing him. If he made it out alive of this someone needed to tell his children of their mother. He thanked every God he knew the name of that Inessa had them in Moonstone Palace far, far from her. That she'd talked her younger sister Mirren of bringing them with her.

He knew if Mirren was lucid enough for words she would have agreed with him. He wasn't sure if he was being cruel to silently beg the gods to let her stay with him. He had never thought he'd find a mate, after Inessa he hadn't ever wanted one. Viren and her were slow to love but they did in their own way.

Inessa and he grew to become friends and then he'd met Mirren at some Solstice event. Had that been nearly 100 years ago? He wasn't sure honestly he'd stopped counting their eyes after that. He wasn't even sure how she'd survived the 10 years before their meeting without getting married off or having her wings clipped.

He looked to the door as Rhysand set some more wood down. He stood and stretched stilling as he felt a hand on his wrist. He brought her fingers to her lips.

"Mirren?"

"Did you eat? Did he?"

Devlon felt his heart twist. Mirren was one of the fiercest females he'd ever met. How she could become like this, so soft spoken and fragile didn't make sense to him.

"I will, I'll ask him. You need to eat my star."

She whined and turned into the pillows. He reluctantly left her side to move to Rhysand's watching him feed the wood into the fire. He was silently thankful for his half-illyarian heritage now. If they lost him? Forget Inessa's grief Viren would probably tear the world apart for him. He'd have looked for Doors to Death to get his son back. Did Rhysand know that? Did he understand that Viren was terrified of him dying beyond everything else?

"You need to rest boy and eat which I doubt you've done. You are of little use to anyone like -"

He sighed and knelt by his side gripping Rhysand's shoulder. He was so young, just late 30s. Was this his first experience with death close to him? Probably, Devlon distantly remembered his first brush with familial death. It had been watching his brother be torn apart by the beasts. He'd sacrificed himself to give him time to run and get their father. He'd been young enough that he hadn't been able to fly then.

"Rhysand. She - I'll take care of her but right now you need to rest son. If you're feeling that restless you can sit with her. Your aunt was asking after you."

He was rarely this gentle with the boy but he felt he needed to be. Right now he couldn't handle too much else anyway.

//during the war, Devlon, Mirren and Rhys trapped in a artifical blizzard that Loyalists conjured? The snow is laced with faebane and a virus that a blood posion that only effects Illyarians? Full illyarians//

The winds were harsh, though there really wasn’t many who could venture out into this blizzard with putting themselves at risk. It was something he learnt very quickly, having snuck out into the storm various times when it first began. It had started small, going out to try and find firewood, or go and fetch food that was being stored nearby as there was the concern they were running out. The more he went out he began to see how it affected the others, he couldn’t help but watch as the faebane and the blood poison began to affect the Illyarians who were around him, yet he was unscathed.

Maybe that was when he was pushing himself so hard, the guilt he felt that he was being spared when all around him were getting sick. The hardest one to affect him Mirren, the moment she began to show signs he had sworn he would take care of her; he would do everything he could to ensure her comfort. That was why he was out there, collecting the firewood before he returned. The young male placed the wood down by the dwindling pile, shaking off any of the snow towards the fire to ensure that it didn’t infect the house.

They needed to keep the fire going, his thoughts focused on anything but the potential loss as he knelt before the fire. The crackling of the flames, how it danced upon the logs that were now nothing but ash. He tossed another log onto the fire, grabbing the poker nearby as he attempted to stir up the fire to ensure the new log caught light. It needed to keep going to starve off any cold that was coming in.

It wasn’t until Delvon spoke that he looked over his shoulders towards him, his hair clinging to his cheeks from where the ice and snow was melting due to the fire. His body was hunched over, almost as if it was trying to shrink smaller and smaller to keep itself away from the hard truth. Death, the idea of death was still so new to him that he wasn’t even sure how to handle it. The numbers they were losing, the people he had met who he would no longer see. His Aunt.

“I’m fine, I don’t need to eat.” His gaze returned to the fire. He barely acknowledged him kneeling beside him, he was waiting for the scolding that would come his way for dismissing what he was being told. He didn’t care, he didn’t care if Devlon screamed at him, he just couldn’t handle this. His hands tightened around another log, his attention only snapped back to him when he felt the grip on his shoulder. His heart clenched as he spoke, the mention of his aunt caused him to look towards her.

She was asking after him. His gut twisted, the guilt pulling him further down. “I…I don’t want to lose her.”

[myocsfanfictions]

The Wolf, The Stag and The Snake (Book 1)

A Song of Ice and Fire Fanfiction

MASTERLIST

This fanfiction is about three girls who lives in Westeros and how their lives changed when the War began. Follow Antea Stark, Cassandra Baratheon and Cyel Sand in their adventures. There is more you have just to wait and see. This fanfiction follows only the books.

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Chapter 9

CYEL

“Ah! I got you” Cyel exclaimed when she finally got Rickon.   

Robb and Antea wanted to talk to lady Catelyn. They wanted for their mother to leave Bran’s room, even just sometimes. Things had to be taken care of after the visit of the King and her children needed their mother. 

Cyel had seen lady Catelyn when she went to visit Bran, but the little lady never dared to speak to her and lady Stark never even seemed to notice her presence. She had never seen lady Catelyn so distraught, so desperate. There had been whispers inside the castle, voices that said that Lady Stark should have compose herself. And maybe it was needed to be done; she was the lady of Winterfell; she was supposed to rule alongside Lord Stark’s heir. 

But Cyel wondered about Catelyn the mother. 

Could a mother really recover from a grief so grave like having their own child laying on his bed, with the possibility of dying at any moment? 

Maybe even a strong woman like Catelyn Stark couldn’t manage to pretend that everything was alright after all. 

“Cyel, no!” He argued kicking his legs. Cyel took a breath before sitting on Rickon’s bed and putting him on her lap, hugging him. 

Since Antea was busy that night, she asked Cyel to take Rickon to sleep. It wasn’t the first time for the girl, but usually they would all sit together, with Rickon and his brothers, now it was different and it felt more complicated, even because the boy didn’t want to lay down. 

Rickon was restless saying that no one cared if he was awake or asleep. He had been running around Cyel for the past half hour. Shaggydog was of course in the chamber, waving his black tail every time Rickon ran past him. 

In the end Cyel had been able to get him in her arm, but Rickon tried to get out from her grip, so she tiredly yet stubbornly picked him up “It’s time for bed, little lord.” 

But Rickon struggled again, trying to get free.

“Sweetie, please. It’s late” she said softly. Rickon didn’t answer; he only sniffed, looking at his feet. 

“Why Robb and Antea are not here?” his voice was broken, but he didn’t dare to look up “Why Mother doesn’t want to see me?” Cyel closed her eyes trying to stop tears from falling down “Why did everyone leave me?” Rickon was just three. All of this must have been so confusing to him, he couldn’t understand what was happening; his father and sisters had gone away and so did Jon. He hadn’t seen or spoken to his mother in two weeks and his older brothers were very busy those days. It was normal for him to feel abandoned. At deep in her heart Cyel understood what he felt. 

“Listen to me, Rickon, listen” she said, turning him to face her. His blue eyes were puffed and red and his lip between is teeth, to try not to cry “Your family loves you very much, you know that, don’t you?” Cyel said with a smile “Just sometimes family can’t be together all the time, but that doesn’t mean that their love for you stops” she moved his hair from his forehead. 

“How do you know?” the boy asked pouting. 

“My family is not all here” she answered sweetly “But I love all of them and they all love me” Rickon seemed to think about her words and he rubbed his eyes before asking “Do you promise?” Cyel pretended to be shocked by that. 

“Did I ever lie to you, my little lord?” She said starting to tickle him and Rickon let out a loud laugh as he tried to push her hand away. Cyel smiled looking at him, she had always seen that wild boy happy, it was so strange to see him so sad. Rickon was too young to be sad. All of them could be, but not him. 

“But now” she exclaimed before standing up and with the boy in her arms she moved a side the covers of the bed “It is time to sleep, for real” Cyel put Rickon down, before positioning the fur blankets around him. The boy layed down, only his face visible to Cyel, who smiled. But Rickon seemed deep in thoughts once again. 

“Cyel, will I be alone again tomorrow?” Cyel shook her head with a smile. 

“You are lucky” she said “I have no duty for the morrow, so you…” She pocked his chest “… And I am going to play as long as you want” his smile was wide. 

“You, I and Shaggy!” He exclaimed. Cyel eyes fell on the black direwolf who looked at them before turning to look again out of the window. 

“Of course” she answered “You’ll chose the game.”   

“I already know the game” he exclaimed happily “Run and chasing” she should have known, Rickon loved to runaround the field of Winterfell. 

“Very well” Cyel said “Run and chasing, it is” they laughed at each other before Cyel spoke again. 

“Now, sleep” he puffed, rolling his eyes. Everything was a good reason to Rickon to not going to sleep “Come on, I’ll tell you a story” his eyes lighted up in a moment, Rickon loved stories. But before she could start to talk a howling made her turn. 

“It’s Bran’s…” she muttered, looking the window. That direwolf really loved Bran. He had been staying out of his window since he had fallen from that tower. He was singing to him, for him, hoping for Bran to wake up.   

Suddenly Shaggydog started to sing along with his brother and not after long even other two howls joined them. Grey Wind and Shadow. They were all singing, praying for Bran. She felt her eyes watering, those creatures were like people and they were suffering like all of them. 

Will you ever wake up? Cyel wondered sadly. 

Two weeks, two weeks without Bran running around, without hearing him laugh, without play or talk with him. It still seemed a nightmare to her. To all of them.   

“Do you miss him?” At Rickon sudden words she had to breath to control the tears threatening to slip from her eyes “It’s alright, you know? I miss him too” Cyel bit her lips before turning and look at Rickon with a forced smile. 

“So, what about that story?” 

Cyel was tired, walking to her and her mother’s chamber, she hadn’t slept that much those days; her mother was still ill, so Cyel often woke up to make sure she was alright. Not that she had difficulties on waking up, the thought of Bran possibly dying was hunting her everywhere especially during night. 

It hadn’t taken too long for Rickon to fall asleep, and that she was glad of. Trying to be strong was becoming difficult; Cyel missed Bran, she missed him so much. 

Maester Luwin had told her that the great danger had passed, but then why was Bran still unconscious? Why his eyes were still opened and empty? 

Suddenly she stopped, when she heard loud steps and voices echoing in the corridor. After a moment Robb and many soldiers appeared behind the corner. When Robb saw Cyel, he immediately walked towards her and put his hands on her shoulders. 

“You shouldn’t be outside, Cyel” his tone was urgent and worried. 

"My lord, what is happening?” She asked looking uncomfortably her friend in the eyes. Soldiers were passing by them with quick steps, while Antea approached them with Theon. 

“Cyel, why are you out?!” Exclaimed Theon with worry in his voice once him and Antea stopped next to them “Go in your chamber.” 

But Cyel didn’t answered to him, returning her attention on Robb. 

“There is a fire” a shiver run down her spine. Her thought went immediately to her mother, she was sick in bed; she must have been moved to safety. Robb seemed to understand what she was thinking about, because he squeezed her arms gently but urgently “It’s the library tower.”   

Cyel let out a breath of relief, her chamber was on the other side of the castle, her mother was safe. 

“Antea, come back to Mother, she can’t be alone” Robb said turning to his sister, but Antea shook her head. 

“Rickon could wake up and get scared” Antea said back “I have to go to him” Robb groaned. They were wasting time, Robb and Theon should have been outside, but Robb was right, the lady wasn’t in the condition of being alone. 

“I’ll go to the lady” at her words they all turned towards her.

“Absolutely not.” Theon exclaimed, he had always overprotective over her, but Cyel looked Robb stubbornly “Trust me, my lord.” 

The Stark boy took a breath gravely and then he nodded quickly. 

“Very well” he said before thanking Cyel and run away with Theon, that shook his head as their eyes met. Antea thanked her too, before running in the direction of Rickon’s room. Cyel immediately raced towards Bran’s chamber.   

Winterfell was darker that night, it almost scared her; it was quiet without soldiers and servants around, they all were surely helping with the fire.

Even a fire!

They really didn’t need that. How did it happen? Maybe a candle had fallen. Cyel just hoped that no one was inside the library tower that night. 

As she arrived to Bran’s chamber though, something was wrong. The door was ajar and there were noises inside.

When she got closer, she heard strange sounds, groans and sounds of bodies fighting. Without thinking twice Cyel entered the room and before her there was a short man, with blond hair and dark clothes, and he was holding lady Catelyn, who was trying to get out from his grip. The man hadn’t seen Cyel because she was behind his back, so the girl run to him and jumped on his back covering his eyes with her hands. 

The man groaned, but he let go of the lady, too busy to trying to stop Cyel to scratch is face with her nails. He tried to take her off of him, but Cyel clanged to him. She wouldn’t let him hurt her lady. Then suddenly the man pushed her against the wall. When her back hit hard the cold stone she let out a gasp, she closed her eyes for the pain and the man managed to make the girl fall and then he pushed her to the floor next to Catelyn. 

Cyel shook her head, trying to remain as focused as she could and when she looked up, the man had took out a dagger. It was sharp and it shined under the candlelight. But the man wasn’t walking in their direction.

“It’s mercy” walking towards Bran. 

He wasn’t there for the lady. He wanted to kill Bran.   

“No!” Cyel got up at the same time of lady Catelyn. She didn’t even know how she could stop him, but she would have found a way.   

They both ran to the man who turned quickly and pushed the woman again, making her fall on the floor, before turning to Cyel and slapped her across the cheek hard. The girl fell next to Bran’s bed, her eyes full of tears for the pain, her back was badly hurt and, in her mouth, she could taste blood, but she was determined to stop that man. 

She was about to, when a shadow run in the chamber and jumped on the man, who started to scream in agony on the floor. Blood was on the floor, piercing screams and groans echoed in the chamber. Cyel’s eyes were fixed on the crimson pool not far from the bed, she was shacking for what was happening before her and then she realized who had saved all of them from that murderer: Bran’s direwolf.   

He looked at the murderer under him, with his mouth covered in blood, like he wanted to be sure that the man was dead, then he looked at lady Catelyn and licked her hands before turning to Cyel and do the same on her cheek, then the direwolf jumped on the bed to lay next to Bran. 

The girl stood up still shacking and when a tear rolled down her cheeks, she realized she was crying. She didn’t even know why, or maybe she did, she couldn’t think straight. But then she realized that the lady was still on the floor, so Cyel quickly whipped the tears away and run to her lady without looking at the body of the man at her feet. When she got closer Cyel noticed her lady’s hands covered in blood, on each of her palms a huge and deep cut. She had fought against that dagger with her bare hands. Lady Catelyn was truly brave. 

“My lady” she called softly to the woman who had her gaze fixed on the gold eyed direwolf “My lady, we need to find Maester Luwin” Lady Catelyn looked at her, her eyes were different, like she had saw Cyel now for the first time. She studied her face for a moment, her gaze stopped on the girl’s cheek and lips red for the blood, before muttering: 

“Thank you” then the woman got up, her bloody hands still up in front of her chest and, looking at the direwolf, she got closer to him before muttering another thank you to the creature. Then suddenly the lady started to laugh hysterically by herself. Cyel looked at the woman before her and everything came crushing on her; all the fear, all the pain. Her legs gave in and she fell on the floor taking deep breaths to try and calm herself down. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but they were found like that by Robb, Theon and Ser Rodrick. They looked at them for a moment, before the Stark boy run to his mother, followed by Ser Rodrick, who was examining the dead man and Theon who knelt in front of Cyel. 

“What has he done to you?” He muttered angrily touching her still swollen cheek, but the moment he brushed her skin, she moved her face for the stinging pain. 

“Cyel..” she looked at him shaking and more tears run down her cheeks from her brown eyes. 

“No, no, little one” Theon said hugging her close to him “It is alright. You’re safe, now” she nodded against his shoulder, ignoring the pain of her back, clenching her hands to the fur of his cape. She felt less terrified in that moment, feeling Theon’s arms around her. Then she opened her eyes and her gaze fell on Bran, still unconscious, unaware of what was happening around him. 

That man wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill an innocent boy of seven. Why? Why would he do such a thing? 

Maester Luwin and Antea rushed in the room some minutes later and they immediately kneeled to check on the lady. Robb must had sent someone to call them, because the man was already giving the milk of poppies to the exhausted lady. She fell asleep almost immediately and Robb gave orders to four man to took his mother in her chambers and guarding the door.   

Cyel had been looking at Bran all along, not a moment her eyes diverted from him. Just now she realized of the great danger she and her lady had been through. 

She could have died. But in that moment, when that man was approaching with the shining dagger towards her, she didn’t even care of getting hurt. She didn’t know if call it bravery or stupidity, but all that mattered was that Bran was alive, that was all she cared about. 

“Cyel, how are you feeling?” Cyel looked away from Bran, to meet Robb’s eyes. The young lord had kneeled in front of her with a hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m fine, Robb” she answered in a whisper, glad that her body had stopped shaking as she felt Theon rubbing her back. Then suddenly two arms wrapped around her neck. 

“Cyel” Antea said before break the hug with a serious expression “What were you thinking?!” 

“Antea is right!” Theon said as Cyel closed her eyes. Their voices where too loud to her ears “You should have gotten help. “ 

“He is right!” Antea exclaimed. 

“Leave her alone” Robb said trying to calm them down.   

“I’m sorry” Cyel muttered in a whisper “When I came in, that man was trying to kill the lady” she shivered at the memory “I…didn’t have time to think” Antea took her hand, trying to comfort her. 

“Thank you” Robb spoke softly “For saving our mother” she wasn’t the one who saved her, but surely, they already knew that by looking at the body, so Cyel nodded. 

“Why would he wanted to kill the lady?” At Theon’s words, Cyel eyes fell on the bed once again. 

“He wasn’t” Cyel said to herself, her eyes never leaving the shape of Bran’s body under the covers. Her head was ponding, her back hurt like the Seven Hells and in her mouth, she could still feel the metallic taste of blood. 

“What do you mean?” but before the girl could answer to Antea’s question the Maester’s voice made them turn. 

“I need to visit Cyel, my lords” Robb and Theon nodded. They looked at the girl one last time before leaving the room, closing the door behind them. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Antea asked “I have to stay with Bran, tonight. But I can sit here if you need” Cyel shook her head looking at the lady. 

“Go to him” she said “It’s more important” Antea frowned at her words, her eyes moving from Cyel to Bran “I’ll leave as soon as the Maester has done” Antea’s eyes were still fix on her unconscious brother before nodding to Cyel and standing up. 

“Does it hurt somewhere, Cyel?” the Maester said sitting in front of her. 

“There are going to be guards outside of this chamber tonight?” She asked immediately while looking at Bran. 

“Of course, my lady” Maester Luwin said studying her face closely “They are already here” Cyel turned to the man with a small smile and nodded her head. 

“My back” she said “My back hurts.” 

It had been four days since the attack and lady Catelyn was still sleeping. It wasn’t just for the milk of poppies, that was the first time in two weeks that the lady had closed her eyes. Cyel was feeling better, there were still bruises on her back, but they were fading more and more every day and her cheek wasn’t swollen anymore. 

Phelya got mad at Cyel when the Maester told her, what had happened. Of course, as a mother, she was worried for her, but Cyel didn’t want for her to stress, it wasn’t healthy in her condition. In the last days she had calmed down, but Phelya seemed to overthink about something, Cyel didn’t dare to ask, afraid to argue with her mother again. Cyel was very sorry to have caused so much trouble to Phelya, but she didn’t regret helping her lady and Bran; she was glad to that moment of bravery that took over her that night. 

“You are not eating with the Starks, today? Since you feel better?” Phelya stated looking up from her plate. Cyel usually ate with the Starks as their ward, but lately there was no one to break their fast. The lady was still asleep, Antea was taking care of her younger brothers. Cyel would have helped her, but the Maester told her to rest and not to stress her back and he gave her the milk of the poppies, so she hadn’t been very helpful those days. And Robb and Theon were busy with the soldiers to find out who was the blond man who attacked lady Catelyn.   

Cyel had thought about him constantly. She wanted to understand who he was and why he wanted to kill Bran. She was hoping that Robb would find those answers soon. Cyel was just hoping that there weren’t others hiding in Winterfell who were planning to kill him. 

“I think I’ll go to pay Bran a visit later” the girl answered sipping her milk “Maybe I can help Antea with her duties” her mother studied her with her blue eyes. 

“The Maester said that you need rest” Cyel put down her cup, before slowly standing up from her chair. 

“I’ve rested for three days, mother” she said walking to her box of jewels. Everything that her father had ever sent her was in there. She chose a hairband with silver leaves on it and hidden under them there was a snake with orange eyes. 

“I’m fine, do not worry” she answered sweetly turning to the woman. 

“Though I am worried” her mother said, making the girl look at her feet “What happened had been extremely dangerous.” 

“We really need to talk about this?” Cyel almost pleaded, she still had nightmares about what happened. And the pain on her back was a constant remind that it had been no fantasy. 

“We need to” her mother said “You almost died.” 

Cyel took a shaky breath at those words. She had acted without thinking; as soon as she saw that man holding her lady that was desperately trying to get free. She could still see the blood and the knife. And when he turned towards Bran… 

It’s mercy, he had said.  

Mercy. 

“There was no time to think” Cyel said biting her lips “I could not… That man… Mother” in her eyes she could feel tears, she was not able to put in words everything that she was feeling, but of something was sure of “I will not apologize for what I did.” 

Her mother shook her head “I do not want you to apologize, you’ve protected our lady. Like all of us should do” she said and Cyel felt somewhat relieved by those words, hating the thought of her mother being angry at her “But you are my Sun, Cyel. I beg of you to do the right thing and always help your lords liege, but do not go into danger blindly. Do not act like your father” that made Cyel let out a melancholic chuckle. 

“What if it runs in the family?” Cyel asked “You’re impulsive as well.” 

Phelya nodded at her with kind eyes “That I am, but remember that in your veins there’s Prince Doran’s blood as well. And he had always admired your mind.” 

Her uncle Doran Martell, Head of the House Martell, had never hidden his admiration for Cyel’s manners. He often said to her that her eyes were observative and her words were well thought. He even added sometimes that while Cyel’s drive was similar to his, the one his daughter, Arienne, had was much more similar to Oberyn’s.  

Suddenly someone knocked on the door. Cyel and her mother looked at each other, before Phelya spoke. 

“Come in.” 

Theon Greyjoy made his entrance in the Chamber. On his lather jerkin the shape of a kraken was visible. The kraken was the banner of house Greyjoy, lords of the Iron Islands. Theon always wore something with a kraken on it. It was important for them wards to wear something that reminded to everyone which house they belonged to. 

“Good morrow” he said with his wide smile to them. 

“Theon, it is good to see you” Phelya replied fixing the covers around her. 

“Likewise,” he bowed his head “How are you feeling today, lady Rosemberg?” Phelya nodded politely. 

“I’m feeling quite better, today. Thank you” Theon smiled again, before turning to Cyel. He seemed happy to see her up. He had visited her only the morning after the attack, with Robb, after that they had been so busy finding out more informations about that man. While Antea had visited every day, even if just for few minutes, before going back to Rickon, or Bran.  

“You are still standing, that is good” Theon exclaimed. 

“You would be bored without me” Cyel smiled to him, who rolled his eyes with a laugh. She was speaking the truth, though. Cyel considered Theon as if he was her brother and she felt that he considered her a little sister, even if he had never told such words out loud. 

After a moment Theon’s eyes clouded and his expression became serious. 

“The lady woke up” at his words Cyel step closer to him. 

“Truly?” She asked relived. Theon nodded silently. 

“How is she feeling?” Even Phelya seemed happy by the news. The two women had become close friends in the past seven years. Phelya wanted to visit lady Catelyn, but she couldn’t get up from bed. 

“She just woke up” Theon kept saying “That’s why I’m here. She wants to talk to us. And she wants you there, Cyel” probably she wanted to know what had happened those days. Cyel was surprised that the lady wanted her there. But she nodded her head none the less, to let know Theon she was ready to follow him.  

When she was at the door, she turned to Phelya who gave her an encouraging smile. 

“I’ll see you later, mother” then Cyel closed the wooden door, before following Theon in the large corridors of Winterfell.  

She had missed doing it, walk around in Winterfell and seeing all the people that lived there, even if now most of the people she grew up with had gone South with lord Eddard.  

While she was passing by a group of servants, she saw them smiling happily at her, bowing their heads, and immediately Cyel did the same. The servants of Winterfell were so kind and always willing to help them children when they were up to something. Once Lylith, a servant that worked usually in the kitchen, hid Bran and Cyel who were running from Theon after a prank and then she gave them freshly made waffles, which they ate with Arya and Sansa.   

It seemed it had happened so long before, a life before. Everything had changed so fast, they had to grow up so fast. Cyel didn’t feel like a girl of eleven anymore, it was so strange. 

“Have you found out anything?” Cyel asked with low voice walking closer to Theon. Her friend understood that she was asking about the blond man, because he looked around before answer in a whisper “Something” he said “But I’ll tell you later.”  

She was eager to know, but if he couldn’t tell her now that man mustn’t had been a common man. Maybe he wanted to hurt lord Stark by hurting his son, but why? Lord and lady Stark were good lords, always taking care of the needs of their people. Why would someone do that to the lords of Winterfell? 

They arrived in front of the chamber of the lady and at the same time Robb arrived as well, with the new captain of the guard Hallis Mollen and Ser Rodrick Cassel. The young lord was dress in lather and his sword hung on his waist. He seemed a true lord, so different from the always funny boy she grew up with. He seemed older than his fifteen years. 

“Cyel” he said relieved as he made long steps towards her. He put his hands in her arms with an affectionate expression as Cyel looked up to him with a smile. 

“Lady Cyel” Ser Rodrick said when he saw her, Cyel bowed her head as a greeting “How are you feeling?” 

“Quite well, thank you, Ser Rodrick” she answered politely. 

“We are all glad to hear it” Robb said giving Cyel a gentle smile, before he turned to open the door of his mother’s chamber. 

The lady was sitting in her bed. With her, there were already Maester Luwin and Antea. The man was changing the lady’s bandages on her hands and Cyel  realized just now how deep that cut was. The dagger used by that man should have been very sharp. Antea was sitting on a chair next to her mother, she was watching closely the Maester’s movements, but when they entered the room, she raised her gaze and when she noticed Cyel, she smiled widely to her. 

The lady looked at them too. Her eyes fell on her eldest son, maybe even her was surprised by how much older Robb looked. Then the lady looked at Cyel studying her face for a moment before speaking.  

“Who was he?” She was talking about the man. 

“No one knew him, my lady” Hallis Mollan said “But some people saw him around Winterfell in the past few weeks.”   

“A man of the King” the lady said, then her face became hard, almost angry “A man of the Lannisters” Cyel looked closely at her lady.  

How could she be so sure?  

The lady seemed absolutely certain of what she was saying. 

“We found this where he was sleeping” Robb took from his pocket a brown leather bag “In here there are ninety silver stags” Cyel eyes widened. He had been paid with so many coins. Someone very rich wanted for Bran to die.  

But why? Cyel wondered. 

“It’s good to know my son’s life was not sold cheaply” the lady said bitterly, and she was right. Maybe lady Catelyn was right, that man could have been a man of Lannisters’. Hearing what her father told her about the lords of Casterly Rock, Cyel wouldn’t be surprised.  

But the reason? What was the reason? 

“Mother” Antea exclaimed with her eyes wide open “Are you saying they were here for Bran?” 

“That’s madness” Theon shifted next to Cyel. 

“It is the truth” Cyel spoke and everyone’s eyes fixed on the girl “That man wanted to kill Bran. If it hadn’t been for his direwolf, that man would have succeeded” her voice was full of dread thinking about what could have happened “And maybe he would have killed even the lady and myself” Catelyn was looking at her nodding her head slowly, her eyes lighted up when Cyel mentioned her boy’s direwolf. 

“That is what you meant that night” Cyel frowned at Robb’s words. What happened after the attack was very confused in her mind. She remembered just bits and pieces of the conversation she had. The fear took the best of her. 

“But why?” He added “Why would someone wants to do it? Gods he is just seven, helpless and sleeping…” 

“You are going to rule the North Robb” the lady said with a challenging look “Think it through. Answer your own question. Why would anyone want to kill a sleeping child?” Robb wore a pensive expression on his face, but he wasn’t the only one. Everyone was doing the same.   

Cyel’s head was full of questions. There must have been something that she hadn’t paid attention on. If someone so rich had paid that man so much, it meant that they wanted for Bran to be dead as soon as possible. They didn’t want for him to wake up. They were afraid of something that Bran knew… Or something that he saw… 

“Someone doesn’t want for him to wake up” Robb said giving voice at Cyel’s thoughts “Bran must know something” Catelyn looked at her son proudly. 

“Very good” the lady said before turning to the new captain of guard “We must keep Bran safe. If there was one killer, there could be others” 

“Put one man in Bran’s chamber, night and day” Robb demanded “One out of his door, two at the bottom of the stairs. No one enter that room without mine, my mother’s or Antea’s warrat.”   

“Do it now” the lady added. Hallis bowed his head assuring he would have followed their orders. 

“And let his wolf stay in his room” the young lord said. Lady Catelyn nodded her head vigorously, agreeing with her son. That creature had saved her son, surely now she trusted him. 

“And Cyel” the lady of Winterfell added. Cyel looked at her lady with wide eyes, unsure she had heard her right “Lady Cyel is free to visit him” Hallis bowed his head and left. 

Cyel and the lady were still looking at each other, there was something in her lady blue eyes, but Cyel wasn’t able to name it. She was glad that the lady trusted her that much, but she felt shocked nonetheless.  

All of this involved the Starks. But Cyel wasn’t a Stark, why the lady had made that decision? 

“My lady” Ser Rodrick’s voice made the both of them look away and turn to him “I examined the dagger. It’s Valyrian steel and surely no man like that could have one.”  

Valyrian steel weapons were extremely rare, no common man could own it. In Cyel’s mind there was just a House in the Seven Kingdom so rich to pay that much and with a blade like that. Lannisters. 

“Close the door” the lady said with her usual calm voice. It was incredible how she seemed to come back in herself. The attack must have woken her up from grief, she was again the lady Catelyn they all knew. 

“What I’m going to tell you must not leave this room” the lady said sternly “If I’m right then my husband and my girls are in extreme danger” at her words Antea’s eyes were a mixture of fear and anger and she immediately got closer to her mother “You must swear that nothing you’ll know will leave this room” when the lady looked at her daughter she immediately nodded. 

Lannisters, there was no mistake. Cyel was sure.  

When she had met them, she didn’t want to judge, but what her father, Prince Oberyn Martell, had always told her about them was right. They were capable of everything. Her mind thought about her late aunt, Elia and her children. How could she not? 

The treason of the Lannisters, the murder of Aegon and Rheanys before their mother’s eyes and Elia’s savage and merciless death. That was a story that was well known in her family, especially to all the Sand Snakes. They all had to know, they all had to remember.   

The lady was right, lord Eddard and his daughters were in danger. 

“I swear it, my lady” Cyel vowed with confidence “On my life” lady Stark seemed pleased by her words. 

“Lord Stark is like a father to me” Theon said “I swear” everyone in the room did the same and soon the lady started to explain her theory.   

Apparently, lady Lysa Arryn, lady Catelyn’s sister, had wrote to the lords of Winterfell to let them know that the Lannisters had killed her husband, Jon Arryn. That’s why lord Eddard had gone South. 

Lannisters…   

What did you see, Bran? She thought to herself. It must have been something important. Maybe he found out that they had killed lord Arryn. But if they wanted to kill him, they must had known he knew. Cyel eyes widened in shock with realization. 

I never fall, Bran’s words echoed in her mind. 

“It comes to my attention that Jamie Lanniester never left the castle for the hunt the day that Bran fell.” 

Bran was good, was too good at climbing, he had never flipped. He climbed trees and walls with ease, with rain, with snow. And the broken tower was his favorite place, he could have never fallen. 

“He had been thrown” Cyle said with disgusted voice. That monster pushed Bran down and the next days he walked among them, talked and ate with them.   

“That’s what I think too” Catelyn agreed with her. 

“This is a monstrous suggestion” Ser Rodrick said. But Antea scoffed. 

“The number of coincidences isn’t a sufficient proof?” The young lady said angrily “He is the Kingslayer, he wouldn’t even bait an eye before doing something so terrible. We all know how he gained that name” Cyel nodded to her friend’s words. 

“Not even the Kingslayer would have been able to murderer a child” Ser Rodrick insisted. 

“Oh, would he?” Theon said sarcastically “I wonder.” 

“A Lannister as no qualm of killing to achieve their purposes” Cyel growled using her father’s words. 

“Bran was too skilled” Maester Luwin said. Apparently, everyone believed the lady’s words. 

“Gods” Robb exclaimed with his face twisted in anger “If it’s true, they will pay for it” Cyel couldn’t agree more. “I’ll kill him myself” he swore swinging his new steel sword. Antea was immediately next to him, telling her twin to put the weapon away. 

“This dagger is a proof then, my lady” Ser Rodrick said, now admitting to believe her. Cyel was sure he just wanted to think rationally, but the proves were too many to ignore them. 

“Someone must go to King’s Landing” Lady Catelyn stated looking at the shining blade. 

“I’ll go” exclaimed Robb, but the lady stopped him. 

“No, your place his here” she was right, he was the lord of Winterfell, he couldn’t leave. The lady started to look at each of them, studying them, before speaking again “I’ll go myself” they all gasped at this. 

“My lady, is that wise?” Maester Luwin asked uncertain, but Antea step forward. 

“She won’t go alone” she said “Because I’m coming with you” she was so determined, Cyel had never seen her friend like this “And Shadow will be with us.” 

“No, you are not coming, Antea” lady Catelyn said, but Antea shook her head. 

“You said Father and the girls are in danger” she answered with confidence “Robb can’t come with you, so I will. The Lannister had already hurt one of my brothers, they won’t touch someone else of our family. Let me help you stop them” Antea was angry, but she was so stubborn that no one would have ever made her change her mind. Robb was looking at her like she was crazy and he surely was hoping for his mother to refuse. 

“Alright, Antea” the lady said after some moments of silence “You can come with me.”   

Robb at that point step forward “No wait! You can’t go” he exclaimed “Not both of you” Cyel felt for Robb, he was truly in pain, another important part of his family was going away. 

“Robb” Antea said putting her hands on her brother’s shoulders “You know that one of us has to go with mother. With Shadow with us we will be fine.” 

“Yes, but…” Robb argued with sadness in his voice knowing he couldn’t leave the North “What about Bran?” Antea looked down and the lady answered: 

“I did everything I could. Bran is in the Gods’ and Maester Luwin’s hands. And as you two reminded me, Robb, I have other children” Cyel could just imagine what the lady was going through, no one of her family was safe now, it was right for her to go. Bran wasn’t alone, and they would have come back soon for sure. They had to. 

“Then I��ll send Hallis and his guardsmen with you” Robb said, but the lady shook her head. 

“No” she said “We have to travel unnoticed, we can’t be accompanied by so many men” Robb bit his lips frustrated. Antea nodded to her mother, she clearly agreed with her. 

“Then let me escort you” at Theon words everyone turned to him. His eyes were fixed on Antea and he seemed impatient for an answer. Sometimes Cyel thought that Theon hadn’t just a crush on the young lady, he was truly in love with Antea Stark. Cyel could see it in his eyes more than ever. He had never looked at other girls in that way. 

“No, Theon” Antea said with a smile, clearly appreciating his bravery. The smile on Theon’s face fell in the moment those words left her mouth. 

“Why?” He asked walking closer to her “I’m good with bow and arrows. No one will ever approach you, my lady, I won’t let them” he was pleading her with his eyes. 

“I know you wouldn’t” Antea said sweetly “But I need you to stay here. Robb needs you” Theon looked at his feet, before meeting Antea’s eyes again “He is too stubborn; you are the only one he’ll listen to when I’ll be away” Antea smiled encouraging to him “Can you do it for me?” they looked at each other for a moment. 

“Anything” Theon answered bowing his head. Cyel looked at Theon who was now standing next to her, his eyes were sad but his posture hid it well. Antea was still looking at him when Ser Rodrick spoke: 

“Then I’ll come with you” lady Catelyn nodded at the man. 

“We won’t take the Kingsroad” she stated looking at Antea and Rodrick “Go get ready, we leave today.” 

Every one of them got out from the lady’s chamber and Cyel followed Antea to her chamber. The lady didn’t need to pack anything, she just had to change her clothes and pick another dress to take with her. 

“Are you sure, Antea?” Cyel asked, already knowing that her friend would have never changed her mind, she was too angry to change her mind. 

“That monsters” she growled “They won’t touch someone of my family again.” 

“I know you are angry” Cyel said, she would have left too, she would have even written to her father if she hadn’t sworn not to tell anyone what they had found out “But if the lady is gone, you’ll be needed here” Robb and Rickon needed her, Bran needed her. 

“They’ll be fine” Antea said turning to Cyel calmer then before “They won’t be alone. You’ll be here.” 

“Me?” Antea nodded her head. 

“Of course, they all love you very much” she exclaimed “And I won’t be away long” said Antea rubbing her hands against her dress “I’m ready”. 

The girl had chosen a plane grey dress without embroideries, it was the simplest dress she had. She made a wise choice, they had to be unseen during their journey. 

Just a few weeks before Antea shivered just at the thought of going South, but now she had fire in her eyes, a fire that had never light her eyes in that way before. She seemed a grown woman to Cyel, now more than ever. The Starks women were truly brave. 

“I’ll see you soon, my friend” Antea said hugging Cyel close “Make the boys behave, even Theon” Cyel laughed, her looking out for them wouldn’t be a problem, or at least she hoped. The one that she was most worried about was Rickon. 

“Be careful on the road” Cyel said before letting her friend go, Antea smiled at her before walking out of the room. Surely, she went to say goodbye to her brothers. 

Cyel went to her room to check on her mother, but she found her asleep so she decided to pay a visit to Bran. She wouldn’t have been useful to Robb and Antea and she really wanted to see Bran. 

When she entered, she saw Bran’s direwolf lying next to him. Guarding him, protecting him. As he saw her, the direwolf raised his head and his golden eyes fix on the lady. They looked each other for a moment, before he waved his tail and get back in his previous position. 

Taking it as a sign that she could make her entrance Cyel set there, next to Bran. She could barely recognize him. He was so thin that she could see his bones. He was eating nothing but herbs, water and honey, after all. And his eyes. They were open and empty, nothing like the sweet and joyful eyes that she remembered.  

How could Jaime Lannister have done something like that? She couldn’t believe that someone could have been so evil to do something so horrible. 

Cyel had heard the Kingslayer talking about Bran to lord Tyrion one morning, as she was walking by the hall where the two brothers were breaking their fast. She heard him say that it was better for Bran to die, since his back and legs were broken. Since he could not walk anymore. All because of Jamie Lannister. And he dared to speak about Bran’s life, about Bran’s future. 

Cyel regretted to not have listened to her father’s words closely. She wanted to believe that people could be good and she didn’t want to judge before knowing. She had been too naive. 

“I’m sorry” she muttered moving Bran’s hair from his forehead “I should have come with you” he wouldn’t have been on that tower if she had been with him and he would have been awake now. Cyel missed him, Winterfell was so quite without Bran’s laughs. She knew that the greatest danger had passed, but then why wasn’t he awake?   

“Please, wake up” she whispered before the sound of knocking made her turn. On the door there was lady Catelyn. Immediately Cyel stood up and bow her head. The lady step in walking closer to the bed. She had come to say goodbye to her son. 

“I’ll leave you alone, my lady” Cyel said, but before she could move away from the bed, Catelyn stopped her. 

“No, stay” she said softly, before walking closer to Bran. She looked at him affectionately for a moment, before giving him a kiss on the forehead. 

“I wanted to thank you, Cyel” the lady said turning to the girl “For that night. You didn’t save just my life, but Bran’s too” Cyel shook her head. 

“I’ve done nothing” she replied softly, before turning to the wolf laying on the bed “He is the one to thank” The direwolf tuned to the girl, who pet his head with a thankful smile. 

“You apologized to Bran” the lady said after a moment of silence and Cyel immediately look down “Why?” Cyel didn’t want to answer, she didn’t want for the lady to know how she had let down Bran, but at the end she took a breath to take courage, before look at the lady again. 

“He asked for me to join him that day” Cyel said thinking back at her last conversation with Bran and tears started to form in her eyes “I didn’t want to say goodbye to him. That’s why a stood back” a soft sob left her lips “I should have been with him, but I wasn’t.”  

Cyel could feel her Lady looking at her and she felt afraid. Afraid of what lady Catelyn must be thinking, of the anger she may feel. But when Cyel looked up in Catelyn Stark’s eyes, there was no sign of anger or disappointment. 

“It was not your fault, Cyel” the lady got closer to the girl “No one here blames you. And I’m more than sure that he wouldn’t blame you as well” Cyel turned to Bran. She looked his empty eyes, so different from the ones she knew. She was glad to hear those words, but she couldn’t stop from feeling guilty. She was afraid she would have never stopped from blaming herself. 

“You know, I watched you” at the lady’s words Cyel turned to her “I’ve always watched the two of you” a small sad smile appeared on the woman’s face “You were always so happy around each other. Your laughs echoed in the castle constantly. I’ve never seen him so happy with anyone else. And I know that for you is the same” Cyel felt her cheeks blush, she didn’t even know why “You’ve lost that special light in your eyes since it happened. I’ve noticed it… And my children too” then the lady looked Cyel in the eyes “You know why I’m telling you this?” Cyel shook her head softly. Then the lady took her hand. 

“There is no one I trust more with Bran’s life than you” Cyel looked at the lady with surprise in her eyes “I know he is very special to you, as much as you are special to him. And that’s all Ned and I had ever wanted” at those words Cyel realized what the lady was telling her.  

They had chosen. It was Bran.   

“But now I want to ask you something” Cyel looked at the lady again “And I want you to answer, not because of the promise between our countries, but because you are honestly sure you can keep this promise.”   

Cyel turned towards Bran for a moment and even if she didn’t know what lady Stark was about to ask her, Cyel didn’t hesitate to answer. 

“Of course, my lady” Catelyn squeezed Cyel’s hand. 

“Bran’s life won’t be easy from now on” the lady voice cracked for a moment. She was right, Bran’s legs couldn’t move anymore. His life wouldn’t be like his brothers’ or any other young lord’s. 

“He’ll need help” the lady added “Help him, protect him. Protect him from anything that feels like a threat.” Cyel looked her lady in the eyes, she didn’t want to be rush, but that promise sounded so easy to her. She had cared about Bran for all her life and now she wasn’t just his friend anymore. 

“My lady” she spoke surprised to herself about how strong her own voice sounded “Bran had always been special to me and believe my words: I won’t ever let any harm come to him. I swear it, my lady” lady Catelyn smiled at her, a real smile, a natural one. 

“Thank you” she said squeezing Cyel’s hand more and some tears slipped from her eyes, but then she wiped them away. 

“It’s time for me to go” Catelyn said fixing the skirt of her dress “Farewell, Cyel” the girl bowed at the lady as a goodbye. The lady smiled again, then she looked at Bran before turning to walk away. 

“Be safe on the road” Cyel said before her lady could exit the room. Lady Catelyn looked at her affectionately and nodded in silence, before closing the door behind her. 

It had been two weeks since the lady and Antea had left Winterfell. Cyel spent her days with her mother and taking care of Rickon, but she spent all her free time sitting next to Bran. She talked to him, telling him what was going on around Winterfell; how Robb was becoming a lord everyday more, when people were around, he didn’t joke anymore and Theon was trying to easy his mood, taking care of Robb in his own way. Days went on in Winterfell, even Bran’s birthday had passed. She almost hoped he would have woken up that day, but he didn’t.   

Bran’s direwolf liked to have Cyel around, when she felt most sad, he usually licked her hand or face. He hadn’t moved from that bed, never, and he always studied whoever entered the chamber making Cyel feel safe and relieved. 

One evening, Cyel was in Bran’s chamber, sitting on her usual chair next to the bed. She had cut his hair some days before, he had never had it that long. A servant offered to do it, but Cyel insisted on be the one to do it. 

“Do you want to hear a story, sweet lady?” Cyel looked at Old Nan. She was a very old and sweet woman; she had taken care of all of the Starks and she knew many stories. In those days she had kept company to Cyel, when she was alone with Bran. 

“No, gratitude” Cyel answered sweetly, the woman smiled at her “You should take rest” the girl added “It’s getting late.” 

“As you wish, my lady” Old Nan said before standing up “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight” Cyel answered smiling at the woman and then she turned to her needlework. She was training with new embroideries to add to a dress that she was sewing for her mother. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly she heard Bran’s direwolf shift on the bed. Cyel looked at the door afraid of a new attack, that wolf was always so quiet. Her heart hummered inside her chest waiting for the wooden door to open, but no one ever entered. She took breath before looking again at the direwolf, that seemed to have calmed down. Cyel was about to return her attention on the needlework, when she saw a movement. It was for a moment, for a single moment, but she was sure Bran’s hand had moved. It moved; she was sure. 

Immediately Cyel stood up, letting her needlework fell on the floor. Her hands gripped the fabric of her dark orange gown to move it so that she could sit on the bed next to Bran. She looked at his hand waiting for any sign of movement, but there was none. But she couldn’t have imagined that, she couldn’t. 

“Bran” she called softly and she waited, hoping for his eyes to move, blink, doing anything but staring blankly the ceiling, but nothing.  

She must have been tired; it was very late. But Cyel was so sure of what she had seen. Or maybe she was just wishing so much for him to wake up.  

Cyel was about to stand up and going back to her chamber, but then she met the golden eyes of the direwolf stopping her. He was looking at her, as he was trying to communicate something. As he was trying to stop her from leaving. 

What do you know? She thought. What did he want to tell her? 

She then turned back towards Bran. Could she really had imagined his hand moving. After a moment she decided to get closer once again. Cyel looked closely at Bran’s face and she searched in his eyes for any sign of life. For all that time she had avoided to look his eyes for too long, but not now. She had to see.  

Then suddenly, very slowly Bran blinked his eyes.   

“Oh, gods” she whispered. He blinked again, like he was beginning to see again. Her heart was beating fast, afraid she was imagining everything. She had dreamt before of him waking up and she dread that suddenly she would have left her slumber to came back to their sad reality. But it didn’t happen, Bran’s eyes moved and blinked until he seemed to realize that she was in front of him. 

“Bran” she whispered with tears in her eyes as he smiled at her. She immediately stood up and run out of the room. 

“Guards!” She cried; cheeks wet from tears “Guards! Call lord Stark! Brandon is awake!” The guards at the bottom of the stairs run away in a moment “He is awake” she muttered to herself with a smile. He was awake, it was no dream. Bran was safe.  

She then run up the stairs and when she entered the room, Bran and his direwolf were looking at each other. It seemed like they were talking to each other, silently, in a language that just the two of them knew. 

Suddenly Robb ran inside the room, with Theon close behind. He was about to say something, when Bran looked up to them. 

“Summer” he said petting his direwolf “His name his Summer”. 

[scullyy]

Afterglow

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Once the party has finished, the children sulk off to their rooms, worrying about the fight ahead. For Clementine and Louis, the night is still young.

A/N: welp….I was gone for longer than I thought. It was a nice break, I hadn’t realised how much I actually needed it. Despite that, I missed everyone, I missed being here. So I figured what way to come back than by posting a one-shot I’m high-key proud of?

Enjoy xx

-

Does the darkness have a name?

As AJ blew out the last candle, that’s all there was. Darkness. The odd ray of moonlight poured into the room, shining through the wooden beams covering the window. It was on all of their faces, shadows making them appear older. They all felt it, together. A sombre harmony.

Clementine watched her friends slink out of the room, whispering their goodnights. She noticed the gentle shake on Ruby’s shoulders, her hands held tightly together, trying to comfort her own mind. Tenn and Willy walked away together, thankful that their friendship wasn’t long gone, thankful for the pleasant distraction.

She wondered when it first appeared, this darkness. Had it crept into their lives as children? Already apart of the world long before they were ever born, or was it new? Festering on the decay and newfound rot. She pulled her jacket around herself, trying to conceal the darkness that was definitely within her.

She was so wound up in her brooding thoughts, she didn’t even notice the small presence beside her until he tugged at her pant leg. “Clem?” Her goofball looked up at her with tired, sunken eyes. “Can we go to bed?”

Clementine would have taken his little hand and gladly dream of lighter things if there still wasn’t someone in the room. Hiding away from the moonlight, wrapped up in more darkness than anyone, Louis. His hands now lay empty beside him, the keys on his dear piano lonely. A few minutes ago he was lighting up the room with his tune, capturing the attention of everyone. Now he hid away into himself, a form Clementine hadn’t seen from him before.

“You run off kiddo, I’ll be there soon,” Knowing he would want to stay by her side, she gave AJ a little push out the room, quickly waving goodbye until the door was shut completely. He was still so new, he didn’t understand what the darkness even was and why it won’t ever go away. She turned back to Louis, finding him now tracing the edge of the keys. The silence was haunting, he didn’t fit into it at all. “I can tell that something is on your mind.”

He inhaled deeply before answering. “I’m wondering what Violet is doing right now.”

Clementine froze on the spot, her feet attached to the muddy carpet only because he was brave enough to say what everyone was thinking. “I don’t know. If Lilly wants soldiers I’m sure she won’t hurt any of them.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Rather he hoped she was. All of them; Aasim, Omar and Violet. This woman, Lilly, was so ruthless. Yet it exposed just how blind Louis was, how unsafe and vulnerable they had been this entire time. “How many more of us have to die before the dust finally settles?” Hearing Willy and Tenn list off the names of their old school mates unlocked memories Louis filed away, hoping to never tread across again. The kid they found chomped to bits by the river, the debate club president they found hanging from the basketball hoop, the girl Louis used to sit next to in art class was barely recognizable when the walkers left her by the river. Her neon purple socks being the only telling feature.

Clementine felt it again; that strange thump in her heart, out of tune with the rest of her body. If the darkness did have a name, she assumed it would be her own. Bringing death and war wherever she went; the motor inn, Marsh House, the cabin group, Howe’s Warehouse, hell even the Garcia’s. People ran or they died and Clem couldn’t decide which was worse. “We’re going to be okay-”

“You can’t promise that!” Louis whipped his head right at her, revealing the red veins popping in his glazed eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, pressing at the tight knots that never seemed to go away. “Sorry. I’m just scared. I’ll, uh..I’ll sleep it off, that should help.” This was everything.  His parent’s divorce. Marlons’ death. Violet’s, Omar and Aasims’ capture. Every shrapnel of pain, guilt and grief throwing him into the shallow end.

She knew it all too well. “Louis, you’re not going to bed,” Clementine recognised the look on his face, she had seen it on AJ countless times before and it always lead to nightmares and restlessness. She glanced inside the case for the classical record, finding another one inside, secretly hidden away. Lady luck was on her side for once. After setting it all up in the gramophone, she twirled over to him extending her hand. “Dance with me.”

He looked at her hand then back at her, trying to decipher what she was doing. “What?”

“C'mon, or can you not dance?”

She could see it, the darkness rolling off his shoulders like a wave lurching off a steady rock. A cheeky smile appeared on his face slowly, her Louis was shining through once again. The silly boy she had fallen for. “Oh, I can dance. I’m just not sure you’ll be able to keep up with me.” He hopped up, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. When did it get so hot in here?

Clem took a final step closer, their shoes now touching. “Then show me.” She breathed into his ear, enjoying her little sense of pride as the roaring moonlight exposed his flustered expression. No longer were his eyes hollow and empty, now returning to their glowing form.

The gramophone sprang to life as the song began to fill up the room, an entity all of its own as it seemed to brush away the dark clouds nesting around them. Or perhaps it was love, crawling under their skin as they slyly glanced at each other. Either way, what bliss.

I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places

Louis shook his head, trying to string together a sentence. “Let’s…uh, how do we start?” They readied their hands into the right position, even if it was entirely based on what they saw on tv as children; his hands crossed around her waist, hers snaked around his neck. “You want to stand on my feet?”

Clementine’s eyebrows pursed together, her nose crinkling. “Is that a short joke?”

He hummed it over, purposefully ignoring her stubborn gaze with a slight glint in his eye. “It is now.”

That this heart of mine embraces All-day and through

Louis twirled her around beneath their natural spotlight, letting the sparks from the moon push against the claws of the darkness. It fell away from their minds just as quickly as it took ahold of them. “Never took you for the dancing type.”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me, Lou.”

In that small cafe The park across the way The children’s carousel

He pulled her in rather closely, placing his lips against the tip of her ear. “I look forward to finding out more then.”

The chestnut trees The wishing well

A fleet of giggles broke free from both of them as he twirled her for the umpteenth time. Clementine found the room still spinning once she was back in his arms but she didn’t mind, he was there to keep her close. He was the only thing she was certain of these days. “Told you we would have plenty of time for dates.”

Louis madly grinned from ear to ear. “This is another date? Damn, two in one day. I think that might be a new record.” His normally chipper voice had somehow reached a new level of glee, making her already frantically beating heart soak in the sound.

I’ll be seeing you In every lovely summer’s day In everything that’s light and gay I’ll always think of you that way

Clem bit at her lip, considering what exactly he had proposed. “I don’t think it is…”

“It is now, I decree it!” He sang out loud in his typical fashion.

She rolled her eyes, a common reaction to his quips. But unlike the other kids, Clem was still smiling. “You can’t just make up new records, there’s a system, it takes time.”

“Of course I can!” He twirled her with a tad more ferocity this time, letting her get distracted from the silly debate as she couldn’t help but squeal, her feet at frantic work to keep her level.

I’ll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new

Louis pulled her in closer than they originally were before, gazing down at her. His eyes softer, radiating warmth. A warmth she hadn’t seen in another human for quite a while.

“Time doesn’t exist anymore.”

Clementine gently patted his shoulder, returning to her original stance. “Let’s just get through tomorrow, then we can discuss our future.”

Their future.

I’ll be looking at the moon But I’ll be seeing you

Their future could be anything; her wish was his law. Anything she wanted or desired for the chance to show her he could be it all. He could be hers and she could be his and they could be together and it would work.

As if he wasn’t already hers the moment she graced his lowly life with her presence.

I’ll be seeing you In every lovely summer’s day

“Ow!”

“Sorry!”

“Maybe I should stand on your feet.” Clementine huffed as she attempted to shake the pain out of her foot. The heel of his boot was a lot harder than she had considered, then again she never gave his shoes much thought. Not when there were other more charming factors about him to focus on.

In everything that’s light and gay

His eyes shot down to his feet, watching carefully with every step he took. “Maybe I’m not that good at dancing.” There was no beat or melody to their odd little dance, their feet just stepping wherever and however.

I’ll always think of you that way

Gently placing her finger beneath his chin, she raised his head back up, forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re not too bad, we’ll just have to practice.”

“Oh ho ho! Practice? More dates? I like the sound of that!”

I’ll find you in the morning sun

She considered her next words carefully, not wanting to burst this enchanted bubble they had made. “It means you can’t die on me tomorrow.”

Louis almost didn’t hear her over the music, until the words settled and the weight of it clicked. It was there; death and the darkness that came with it. Not just for the war they were about to embark on, but every day after that too. “You can’t die on me either. This is a two way street.”

And when the night is new

She knew the weight of these two simple words, yet declared them anyway. “I promise.”

His much larger arms clung to her much smaller waist and gently dipped her to the floor, her hat tumbling down, though neither of them cared. She clung onto his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his warm coat, wondering if he was trembling the same way she was. “Me too.” He promised, with nothing but love on the mind.

Their eyes remained linked; copper melting with bronze. The darkness had sulked away, letting the moment remain in a light bliss shared by the two. A new, hopeful harmony.

I’ll be looking at the moon But I’ll be seeing you

[rockislandadultreads]

Transport Yourself into Fearie Land: book recs

The Hum and the Shiver by Alex Bledsoe

No one knows where the Tufa came from, or how they ended up in the Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee, yet when the first Europeans arrived, they were already there. Dark-haired, enigmatic, and suspicious of outsiders, the Tufa live quiet lives in the hills and valleys of Cloud County. While their origins may be lost to history, there are clues in their music, hints of their true nature buried in the songs they have passed down for generations. Private Bronwyn Hyatt returns from Iraq wounded in body and in spirit, only to face the very things that drove her away in the first place: her family, her obligations to the Tufa, and her dangerous ex-boyfriend. But more trouble lurks in the mountains and hollows of her childhood home. Cryptic omens warn of impending tragedy, and a restless "haint" lurks nearby, waiting to reveal Bronwyn's darkest secrets. Worst of all, Bronwyn has lost touch with the music that was once a vital part of her identity. With death stalking her family, Bronwyn will need to summon the strength to take her place among the true Tufa and once again fly on the night winds…

The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue

Inspired by the W.B. Yeats poem that tempts a child from home to the waters and the wild, The Stolen Child is a modern fairy tale narrated by the child Henry Day and his double. On a summer night, Henry Day runs away from home and hides in a hollow tree. There he is taken by the changelings—an unaging tribe of wild children who live in darkness and in secret. They spirit him away, name him Aniday, and make him one of their own. Stuck forever as a child, Aniday grows in spirit, struggling to remember the life and family he left behind. He also seeks to understand and fit in this shadow land, as modern life encroaches upon both myth and nature. In his place, the changelings leave a double, a boy who steals Henry’s life in the world. This new Henry Day must adjust to a modern culture while hiding his true identity from the Day family. But he can’t hide his extraordinary talent for the piano (a skill the true Henry never displayed), and his dazzling performances prompt his father to suspect that the son he has raised is an imposter. As he ages the new Henry Day becomes haunted by vague but persistent memories of life in another time and place, of a German piano teacher and his prodigy. Of a time when he, too, had been a stolen child. Both Henry and Aniday obsessively search for who they once were before they changed places in the world. The Stolen Child is a classic tale of leaving childhood and the search for identity. With just the right mix of fantasy and realism, Keith Donohue has created a bedtime story for adults and a literary fable of remarkable depth and strange delights.

The Last Days of Magic by Mark Tompkins

What became of magic in the world? Who needed to do away with it, and for what reasons? Drawing on myth, legend, fairy tales, and Biblical mysteries, The Last Days of Magic brilliantly imagines answers to these questions, sweeping us back to a world where humans and magical beings co-exist as they had for centuries. Aisling, a goddess in human form, was born to rule both domains and—with her twin, Anya—unite the Celts with the powerful faeries of the Middle Kingdom. But within medieval Ireland interests are divided, and far from its shores greater forces are mustering. Both England and Rome have a stake in driving magic from the Emerald Isle. Jordan, the Vatican commander tasked with vanquishing the remnants of otherworldly creatures from a disenchanted Europe, has built a career on such plots. But increasingly he finds himself torn between duty and his desire to understand the magic that has been forbidden. As kings prepare, exorcists gather, and divisions widen between the warring clans of Ireland, Aisling and Jordan must come to terms with powers given and withheld, while a world that can still foster magic hangs in the balance. Loyalties are tested, betrayals sown, and the coming war will have repercussions that ripple centuries later, in today’s world—and in particular for a young graduate student named Sara Hill. The Last Days of Magic introduces us to unforgettable characters who grapple with quests for power, human frailty, and the longing for knowledge that has been made taboo. Mark Tompkins has crafted a remarkable tale—a feat of world-building that poses astonishing and resonant answers to epic questions.

Some Kind of Fairy Tale by Graham Joyce

It is Christmas afternoon and Peter Martin gets an unexpected phone call from his parents, asking him to come round. It pulls him away from his wife and children and into a bewildering mystery. He arrives at his parents house and discovers that they have a visitor. His sister Tara. Not so unusual you might think, this is Christmas after all, a time when families get together. But twenty years ago Tara took a walk into the woods and never came back and as the years have gone by with no word from her the family have, unspoken, assumed that she was dead. Now she's back, tired, dirty, disheveled, but happy and full of stories about twenty years spent traveling the world, an epic odyssey taken on a whim. But her stories don't quite hang together and once she has cleaned herself up and got some sleep it becomes apparent that the intervening years have been very kind to Tara. She really does look no different from the young woman who walked out the door twenty years ago. Peter's parents are just delighted to have their little girl back, but Peter and his best friend Richie, Tara's one time boyfriend, are not so sure. Tara seems happy enough but there is something about her. A haunted, otherworldly quality. Some would say it's as if she's off with the fairies. And as the months go by Peter begins to suspect that the woods around their homes are not finished with Tara and his family...

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter Five: The Pride (Templates)" in the Bastet breedbook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"

Who understands the riddles of ghosts?

My story is over. I have no answers, only questions.

Underestimating one, we might add, is not very wise. Not at all.

Each one has a chip on his or her shoulder and a hunger for the mysteries just out of reach.

Have fun, and treat them well.

They are strangers passing through others’ lands like whispers.

Even when settled, a cat is never really home.

All else is shadows, delusions and rain.

Shut out your world so that you might see the whole world.

He is our savior and our destruction.

It is not for you to know the answers. At least, not yet.

In time, those plans may become obvious, but for now, simply focus on your own perfection.

Luxury is not for you; it’s a distraction and an indulgence.

Spiritual questions interest you more than idle gossip, and you love a good debate.

Once, you were the runt of the litter.

They avoided you and hoped you’d die.

Mother died suddenly, all too young.

You made his dying hard.

Too many men, too many hunters, too many machines that made trees fall and prey scatter.

You killed them all.

The men tasted better than the beasts.

They wanted you to put aside your war, to save yourself for

bigger fights.

So far, you have refused, but the idea lodged in your mind like a thorn in your paw.

Somewhere in the night sit men with fat bellies and angry hearts.

You don’t know a damned thing about social niceties

The forest is your home

You’ve grown curious, and not a little hungry for fat prey. Given the chance, you’ll stalk that prey in a new and better hunting ground.

Food is getting scarce in the forest.

Why starve when there are so many places to hunt?

Speak simply and directly, when you speak at all.

Stalk carefully, lying in ambush until the prey approaches.

Trust no kindness — you have known none.

Recall your place at the top of the food chain.

Learning human skills is going to be difficult, but if you’re going to survive, you’ll have to adapt.

What is the blue egg on the velvet?

Where are the seven drops of moonlight?

Who are the mothers of the first born?

Doesn’t anyone know?

I give up!

Rabbits are wiser than you

Well, he offered you a fish, and what were you to do?

It was a young and hungry time, and you were bored.

Like the ripples of the pond, you were different shapes of one whole.

It was not to be.

In each answer, there were truths about your kind.

Each time, you test their cleverness.

In the town, they look for easy answers. As you know, none exist.

You haven’t seen much hardship, so your outlook’s pretty cheerful.

Good company is hard to find, and no one seems to understand you.

Where’s the old man when you need him?

Speak in riddles that even you don’t understand, then gauge your company by how folks react.

Get restless when people seem obtuse.

You really want some friends, but everyone seems stupid.

Don’t even think of crossing me.

You didn’t have to run away to join the circus.

So much for the soft approach.

Beauty against beast, all that crap.

Strange things started happening soon after you began, though.

It’s a secret, so far.

Folks never liked you, anyway.

That stare of yours. Weird.

You don’t need your gun and whip any more.

You talk, they listen.

Soon you start on the people.

You can’t help but feel superior to your fellow carneys. Hey, it’s not your fault you can see and hear everything they do.

There’s a bitter core to your stealthy missions, too.

Most of the time, though, it’s all part of the game.

To train an animal, you have to let it know who’s boss. And people are just animals with attitude problems.

Intimidation works wonders in your profession.

Staring down a person is easy — hell, you stare down tigers for fun!

Every town you see goes by like morning fog. Soon enough, it’s history. You’re the only constant in your world.

You have killed without mercy. Expect none in return.

Mother groomed you to the sound of gunshots.

The poachers took whatever they wanted.

The children had grown, and there was no room for sharing.

His knife was quick, and if it hadn’t been for a lucky break, you would have died.

Things changed after that

Become a man

Walk with me

You are the walking secret, the barking night

If you trust me, I will teach

This time, you win the fights.

You’re a guardian of the night, and trespassers rarely live to see the dawn.

Once, you fled the poachers; now they run from you.

The smart ones leave. The stubborn die.

Human ways seem odd to you, so watch before you act.

You often make small mistakes that reveal your lack of experience, but catch on fast when there’s someone to watch.

Embrace the night as a hunting partner. After all, it is.