#draconian witch

[astra-ravana]

Types Of Witchcraft

Note: These are general/basic explanations of different classes of magick/witchcraft. Practitioners can fall into multiple or none of these categories. Ultimately, only an individual can choose their labels.

Green: Utilizing greenery/plants/herbs/flowers in herbal/nature magick, such as creating blends of different plants or primarily using herbs in spellwork. May keep a garden and take great pride in their workings/connection to the earth and nature.

Hedge/Shamanic: A type of magick that's more oriented towards spirit work, Otherworld and astral travel, dream work, spiritual power and healing. May work with psychedelic/psychotropic/toxic plants and fungi as spiritual tools (ie: flying ointments/teas made from amanita muscaria or datura)

Sea: A type of magick derived from materials/abstract ideas involving the ocean world. Sea magick is worked using various items from as well as one's own connection to the sea and its creatures.

Storm: Magick that is worked by combining one's own energy with the energy of the weather, most commonly storms. Storm witches may have practices such as collecting storm water or snow, "whistling up" or manipulating winds, or performing rituals during severe weather.

Hearth/Kitchen: Magick performed through kitchen craft and/or mundane tasks/crafts around the home or for loved ones. Typically worked daily through food, herbal mixtures, crafting, decorating, and hobbies. May also work with the Fae/elements/nature.

Tea: Those who drink tea, make their own tea mixtures, or enjoy blending herbal remedies and often use reading tea leaves as their form of divination.

Urban: For those who live in or prefer an urban setting/lifestyle. Magick that is worked in densely populated areas and big cities, without some of the seemingly "traditional" aspects of witchcraft.

Tech: Magick that is skillfully worked through technology. A tech witch might cast spells/do divinatory readings on the internet, use magick based apps/programs, or keep a digital grimoire/library.

Elemental: Magick that is worked by honoring/acknowledging all 4/5 elements (Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and/or Spirit). Elementalists may dedicate part of their alter to each element and call upon them during rituals/spells. Conversely, they may choose to focus on only one element changing the designation to either fire, air, water or earth witchcraft.

Fae/Faerie: The magick of those who work and commune with the Fae. Faerie witches may do rituals/spells around the Fae, ask favors of them, have regular communication sessions, and leave them offerings. The Fae are very unpredictable and strong but, with time and respect, they share their magick with special individuals.

Infernal: A system of spirit work/magick that revolves around Infernal spirits/entities, such as demons, djinn, or other spirits of a chaotic alignment. This practice requires a surprising amount of shadow work and dismantling of oppressive religious systems. They may summon demons, perform rituals/spells with them, make deals, or take them up as magickal familiars.

Necromancy: The practice of seeking the assistance of, summoning, communication, and diving through the dead. Practitioners may frequent cemetaries/burial grounds/haunted locations and perform magick and spiritual/divinatory readings there. Often employ the use of pendulums, dowsing rods, talking boards, black mirrors, grave dirt, and bones.

Draconian: Draconian magick is a practice that involves engaging with dragons as powerful forces and allies in spiritual practice. It can include rituals, symbolism, and techniques to connect with dragons, and may be used for empowerment, healing, and spiritual growth.

Chaos: A type of magick utilizing new, non-traditional, and unorthodox methods. It is a highly individualistic practice that draws from many magickal disciplines (eclecticism).

Blood/Sanguine: A very potent class of magick that includes the use of one's own blood or that of another in powerful rituals/spells.

Sigil/Art: The use of sigils, symbols, glyphs, runes, or artwork infused with will and intention. This practice is vast, versatile, and diverse with each practioner producing truly unique results.

Lunar: Lunar magick is the practice of performing rituals during the different phases of the Moon to bring about physical or psychological change. They may honor/worship the Moon, do moonlight rituals, or make moon waters. Conversely, one could work with the Sun in much the same fashion.

Cosmic/Celestial: Magick that incorporates the stars and planets. Astrology is a dominant force in their lives and witchcraft and they consider the placement of celestial bodies before doing a working.

Crystal: Incorporation of crystals/stones in one's magickal practice. May make crystal grids, include them in their spells, use them in energy work, meditation, or for Reiki healing.

Glamour: Glamour magick is an enchantment type that adjusts or changes your outward appearance, or people's perception of your outward appearance and can include the enchanting of jewelry, clothing, and even makeup for magickal purposes.

Shadow: Magick with a focus on the elements of darkness and shadow. May practice umbrakinesis (shadow manipulation), magickal subterfuge and illusion, and feel at peace, and even practice, in pitch black darkness

Are there any you feel I should have included? Please let me know! I'd love to expand this list. :)

[cultkinkcoven]

More adventures with Father Lucifer and Lord Leviathan.

Okay let me just say first and foremost, wow. These spirits are potent. Lord Leviathan is so responsive and conversational it’s amazing. I see him now in every wisp of smoke, in every drop of water, in every serpent and flame. He’s everywhere, never stagnant, constantly moving, destroying and creating. I love him.

Yesterday I expressed to him that I really wanted to wear something devotional for him, something I can look at that will always remind me of his lessons. Not 5 damn seconds later he showed me this beautiful snake skin arm band. I immediately felt his energy.

He was very very active in my dreams last night. Popping up with Prince Cerberus to teach me the principles of darkness. I slept so well and I feel so vibrant today. There is much to be learned in the void.

Thank you infinitely Lord Leviathan, and thank you Prince Cerberus. I am excited to learn so much more alongside you. Ave Lord Lucifer and thank you so much for inviting these magnificent spirits into my life. 🔱

[thediablerist]

https://pin.it/1DxSKvErs.

[kitsuna-mi]

The Horned Princess of Dragons, made using GIMP

[grxmory]

[svngraced]

slides my sideblog towards the dash; @flamefouled

[dragon-witch-moon]

My divination shop!

[quinnydoll]

Mothballed

It used to be one of the best mech pilots under its handler, that is, until its mech was cored. Its handler listened to its cries of agony as the interface ports all around its body were simultaneously fried as the death rattle of the machine permeated the pilot's full perception. It likely wouldn't have been able to do anything, its sensations were just so overwhelmed. Miraculously - or not, the pilot managed to survive the engagement. They say however, that a part of it died that day, and maybe it did.

The handler remembered seeing their pilot wide eyed and speechless, watching the corpse of its machine being carefully disassembled in the mech bay. It looked like it wanted to cry, they should've told it that it could. This, however was not an uncommon fate for pilots. The typical procedure often came off from the outside as draconian, as cruel. The handler themselves was against it in this case, and opted against euthanasia. This wasn't the first time they'd lost a pilot, and they couldn't keep the tears from welling up as they picked up this one, cradling it as they left the bay.

The pilot felt it cruel at the time for the handler to have its interface ports filled in with resin. It took several days for it to stop picking at the plugs, but after it had resigned to their presence, the futility of attempting to excavate the ports with blunt instruments, its handler without any anger helped it smooth over the ugly chips in the material with more resin, a file, and polish. All of its ports had been filled, aside from the biological ones, which it was told everyone has. This, of course, didn't help; and the saddest part was, it knew it wouldn't be able to use the ports again even if it did manage to remove the resin. The ports themselves were busted, and the nerves they'd been grafted to, fried.

"I know you feel useless, 843. I know, but you aren't incapable of serving a purpose, still." The handler shot their pilot a sympathetic expression.

The pilot said nothing, it simply allows its gaze to reach up towards its handler, its blank expression inadequately hiding the volume of its emotional pain.

The handler sighed as it looked into the puppydog-like eyes of their pilot, "Would you like to be my doll?"

"Doll?" The pilot mimicked the tone of its handler's pronunciation of the word, with its raw and under-utilized voice. The act of speaking itself felt alien to its mouth, as it wasn't accustomed to speaking for itself.

The handler nodded compassionately, "That's right. You'd still be following my orders, but not with a machine, and not for combat. How would you like to be a service doll?" "S-service..." The pilot wasn't able to formulate the words it wanted to respond with as it stammered.

The handler picked up one of its hands in a gentle gesture they hadn't expressed to it before, "It's okay. You don't have to speak. Just nod or shake your head, okay?"

The pilot sat in consideration for a few minutes, before gingerly nodding its head at its handler.

"Then, you can be my doll, and I'll be your witch. We should get you into a uniform more fitting of-" The handler, now witch, reached around to the top of the zipper of their doll's pilot suit, which adorned its body in a skin-tight non-porous material, only exposing its head and interface ports.

The doll frantically covered the zipper pull with its hands, shaking its head in a panic. Tears began to well up in its eyes.

The witch's hands receded from the back of its doll's neck, "That's okay, I should've asked first. You can wear your new uniform over it, if you'd like."

It slowly nods in response, as its tears are gently wiped away by its witch.

Its orders were are unlike any it had received prior to its dollhood. These were far more gentle than any tasks it had been given before. No, these were not orders, but requests, expected to be followed, but simply requested of it nonetheless. It insisted on wearing its pilot suit underneath the maid uniform, to its witch's disguised dismay. It didn't know why they didn't like it continuing to wear it, though they seemed to resign to it at the very least.

One day, it came home with groceries in tow, setting them down on the kitchen counter. As its witch came in, their nose wrinkled, and they approached it, their hands grasping the zipper pull of the suit before the doll could react. As it felt the downward pull of the zipper, the two sides of the material separating and freeing themselves from its skin, it tried to fight back. It cried out as its arms tried to angle back around, before moving back to the suit, attempting to pull it back on frantically.

Then, the witch's voice assumed the stern tones of a handler once again, "843. It's going to tear."

With that, the doll slowly resigned itself to allowing its witch to remove its pilot suit.

"Sorry doll. I wouldn't force this, but you've kept this suit on non-stop for weeks. I need to clean it, and you need to practice better hygiene. I'll take good care of the suit, I promise." The witch reverted to their gentle tones as they continued removing the suit from the doll's body.

As the witch left to clean their doll's suit, the doll slowly trudged its way to the bathroom for a shower. It sat in the bathtub, letting the flow of the shower sprinkle it with warm water. It probed at the smooth black resin filling its interface ports, now far more noticeable without the similarly textured pilot suit. They stood out, making it more obvious at a glance that this doll was useless as a pilot now, decommissioned, mothballed. It felt tears well up again as it resigned to ignoring the plugs and cleaning itself. It remembered the feeling of becoming one with its machine, the body it used to control as its own, a feeling it would never feel again.

By the time it left the shower and dried itself, its witch returned with the newly cleaned pilot suit, just as promised. The doll took it, immediately slipping it on, as quickly as the material would allow it. The witch helped it zip it up at the back, brushing its hair gently afterwards. Once the doll was finished being tended to, the witch guided it to the bedroom of the home, coaxing it into the bed.

The doll began to blush, "I-is it okay? B-being here?"

"Doll, I don't want you sleeping on the floor anymore." The witch pulls it in close, "so sleep here with me from now on."

The doll hadn't slept that peacefully for a long time, it didn't even remember if it ever had. Even when it was a pilot, its dreams had been full of conflict, of feelings of fear, of anger, panic. This night was simply comfortable. It allowed slumber to take it. It allowed its witch's embrace to comfort it. Perhaps, this was better.

[within-your-eyes-if]

Within Your Eyes Intro Post

DEMO [Last Updated June 22nd, 2024]

You are a Warden, a monster hunter who has come to the Kingdom of Auris which has become the forefront runner in it’s acceptance of magic and supernatural alike within the West Highlands. But when strange happenstances occur, you are called upon not just because of skill, but also because of your condition. A condition you’ve lied about for last 12 years.

Unearth the secrets that magic holds as a new form is discovered.

Befriend or romance those who attempt to worm through the cracks of the mask you wear. Or will you fight to keep them at arms length?

Regardless of where your journey takes you, your feathered friend will be at your side. As he always has been.

This story will be 18+ for the following reasons:

Explicit and erotic intimate scenes

Death, including of a child

Violence, blood and gore

Thoughts of suicide

Mentions of suicide

Self harm

Explicit language

Mental trauma

Horror elements

Feelings of being watched

NOTE: Your character will be pretending to have a disability (blindness), not because of a disorder but out of self preservation.

This list may be updated.

You are running away from your past. As you take a this new job, you're forced to confront it. What vices do you use to cope? Will you learn to rely on others or will your raven be your only source of comfort? Will you feel guilty for your lies? Yours will be a journey of self-forgiveness, or maybe you'll only fall deeper into despair.

Play as a man, woman, or non-binary. Gay, straight, or bi.

Plenty of customization options from physical appearance to clothes.

Φ Admos de Le Wren ─ Male | Draconian | Second-Born

Admos, the Dragon Lord of Auris, ascended to the throne following a devastating conflict with his father, bypassing his older brother's claim. This decision deepened the rift among his siblings. As he enters his fifth year as sovereign, Admos grapples with guilt and uncertainty about his role in the family's discord. Will you help him find clarity or fuel his doubts?

Φ Lyth/Lyari de Le Wren ─ Gender Selectable | Draconian | Tenth-Born

Ly took on the role of Viceroy/Vicereine in Auris and became their brother Admos's Right Hand, playing a vital part in the kingdom's recovery after a conflict with their father. However, an incident they triggered over a year and a half ago almost led to another war, casting doubt on their suitability for their position and their aid to their brother. Will you help Ly grapple with their past actions and uncertainties about their role as Viceroy/Vicereine, or will their internal conflicts remain unresolved?

Φ Leese/Lea van Laere ─ Gender Selectable | Human | Vampire

Born into nobility, Lee's life as the child of prominent figures in Lenia took an unexpected turn when they were turned into a vampire. Forced to leave their home, Lee now wrestles with their new identity, desperately seeking meaning in their existence and if it's worth maintaining.

Is Lee a monster consumed by instinct, or can you help them reclaim their humanity?

Φ Xiang Xiaowen/Xiaodan ─ Gender Selectable | Human

Xiao, an ambassador dispatched to Auris to aid the Dragon Lord in Council matters, fought hard to secure their role. Serving as an unofficial advisor, they frequently share insights to assist Admos. Yet their unwavering dedication to obtaining this position hints at a deeper motivation. Perhaps they will reveal it to you.

Φ Gabriel Duarte ─ Gender Selectable | Human

Assigned to you as an assistant of sorts, the recently knighted guard is searching for their place within the Order. Perhaps their new mission will set them on a path for glory, or sink them beneath the turmoils it takes to obtain.

Φ Hestia ─ She/They | Elf? | Witch

Even the most kind have their secrets.

Φ Elies de Le Wren — He/Him | Draconian | Exiled Prince

.

Φ Harus Emery — He/Him | Half-Draconian Half-Human | Warden

Poly Routes: Lyth/Lyari and Gabriel | Leese/Lea and Gabriel | Xiaowen/Xiaodan and Hestia

Love Triangle: Admos and Elies (Note: Will not be resolved in poly. Don't overthink it.)

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

FAQ

Romance Information Post

Ko-Fi

Tumblr Asks are disabled for the time being.

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WYE will always be free with chapters released once they are finished.

This is a planned trilogy.

Thank you for reading and for your support! ♥

[twstinginthewind]

"This is probably the loudest party that I've ever been to! Let's rock all night!"

For @tixdixl's Wishmaster's Concert event (and including assets by @ramshacklerumble and @the-trinket-witch), I have the honor of bringing the one and only Kalim al-Asim to the show! He's more than ready to party all through the night, and still have enough energy to have an after party back at Scarabia afterwards!

Groovification: LOCKED (for now!)

Set home: "WISHMASTEEEEEEEEEEER! WOOOO!"

Transition 1: "The dances here are nothing like what I'm used to, they're WAY less structured. They're so fun to do!"

Transition 2: "Did you see the drum kit that Her Draconian Majesty have? It's more like a full percussion section!"

Transition 3: "Haha! Yeah, Cater gave me this removable nose ring. I think I look really cool with one!"

Home after login: "The stands where they sell souvenirs are designed to set up and pack back up in all in one night, just like traveling merchants. They'd be right at home in the Silk City markets."

Tap 1: "Almost everyone here today has on so much black, but the music is so lively! I think the dress code should be a lot brighter...."

Tap 2: "I can't believe Sebek was never in a conga line before this. I would have thought Lilia would have made sure he knew how, but maybe it just never came up."

Tap 3: "As usual, I'm not allowed to have any of the food here, since Jamil isn't here to test it. Which is a shame; the smell from the kebab truck is driving me crazy."

Tap 4: "I have had the privilege of being at a lot of concerts in my life, but this is the first one I've been to with a pit. It looks like fun!"

Tap 5: "🎶WE FLYYYYYYY THROUGH THE FLAMES IN THE NIGHT! NEVER WILL WE GIVE UP THE FIGHT🎶 Something something something something 🎶WE SHALL CARRY ONNNNNNN!!🎶"

Tap, Groovy: LOCKED

Taglist below the cut; ask to be added or removed!

@twst-the-night-away @oseathepebble @ice-cweam-sod4 @hythlodayus @cyn-write @thehollowwriter @twstchaos @the-trinket-witch @gloomyeiscue @tixdixl @boopshoops @valse-a-mille-temps @candiedwrath @comingyourlugubriousness

If you've read this far I think you're cool.

[katyspersonal]

Headcanons for Demigods in Wandering Mausoleums

Weeping Peninsula: Marika's bastard child, not much else to say here! I don't remember whether localisation mentions it, but in Japanese original this one is definitely mentioned as a bastard. Perhaps owned Castle Morne before death and before Godrick's goons started owning it? Maybe was adopted in the Golden Lineage, because Morne did also belong to Godfrey before his banishment, and stores an important Golden Lineage trophy (Grafted Greatsword). At least, Godfrey was likely okay with being cucked, if not also had different lovers +Lhutel is found in the closest Catacomb to this Mausoleum, so maybe she was a knight of this Demigod!

Castle Sol: A child of Godwyn and Fortissax, and the one whom bloodline of Godefroy and then Godrick is from! Godwyn and Fortissax did have children (Draconian Tarnished, Godrick mentions that he and a drake "both descend from the dragons", Elden Ring's basilisks are spawn of Fortissax and Godwyn as they are dragonic, have marine features and cause Deathblight). Castle Sol has Banished Knights and Stormhawks much like Stormveil, it makes sense if this is the bloodline that led to Godrick! The weakest and shortest-living one, too; if Draconian Tarnished are of any indication, crossbreeds in Elden Ring have weak health

Deeproot Depths: This one is both next to Noklateo and very close to Godwyn, having the biggest guarding of the Mausoleum Knights, too. I feel like such honor could only be granted to a Golden Lineage sibling of Godwyn, so, basically, Marika and Godfrey had at least one more child together! I imagine this one was a bit 'hidden' and with controversial opinions, having interest in Nox culture and vouching for them like how Godwyn was for Ancient Dragons. Both siblings tried to prioritize diplomacy. This is kind of sad, since Black Knives did betray the Erdtree like this in the end... I also imagine a sibling that was a bit in the shadow of Godwyn, leaning more towards water, night and things like that. This tends to be a "secretive" side to the gold! Trina is like this. Maris is like this. I think maybe a daughter, since there are already many guys in the bloodline? At least, not a son.

Liurnia (real one): A child of that strange Demigod buried close to Godwyn / next to Noklateo! I will skip right to the next ones because they directly connect:

Two other Mausoleums for not-Demigods in Liurnia: They lack bells, lack Knights, and can't duplicate Demigod remembrances! I suppose they are related to Demigods and got in the way somehow. Like, one of them might have been the spouse of Godwyn's other sibling and so, second parent of Liurnian Demigod. Noklateo Demigod might be an odd one, but as a child of Marika, their inherent Gold is not something negligible!

And another could be Grana (a woman depicted I the portraits of Raya Lucaria that holds Carian scroll and was a faceclaim for now-defunct Witch conspectus). Her color is green and her crown uniquely features depiction of leaves, which by internal Elden Ring's lore logic would imply unification of Erdtree and Sorcerers! She is also a Carian, though. So maybe she was wed to the Liurnian Demigod, and basically things were not 100% sour after Radagon's divorce. This marriage might have been one of little strings to still keep in touch with Carians. I am not sure who Grana might have been herself in terms of relation. Could have been a daughter of Renna and Lazuli (Doll of Renna already had a ring on her ringfinger, and Lazuli was a faceclaim of the "heretical" Moonlight conspectus who wield Renna's snowflake crest)

Worth to mention that Black Knives were not 100% on Ranni's side either; Ranni must have had a reason to imprison Alecto (can't be GO since that Evergaol is in her secluded place), and Black Knives did come after throats of Iji and Blaidd later! Them going out of their way to harm a relative from her Carian side, that "did nothing wrong", is entirely possible.

Consecrated Snowfield: And this one would be a child of Liurnian Demigod and Grana! Snowfield Mausoleum is unique to shoot a lot of blue sorcery and guarding Apostate Derelict, and Consecrated Snowfield is what leads to Haligtree! And Miquella also adopted a lot from Carians. This Demigod was strong on Sorceries, it seems. I think Miquella and this Demigod definitely were friends and allies, but the Snowfield perhaps had a bit more open "ok boomer 💀" vibe xd

P.S: This family might legitimately have way more generations than I tend to give them credit for

P.P.S: bruuuuhhhhhh is Noklateo Demigod fucking Gwyndolin-coded????? Gfhtfjjgjhd

[tyrantisterror]

Your recent train of posts about you-know-who’s book series got me thinking. You once said “The Owl House works as a sort of rebuttal to Harry Potter in a lot of ways”, care to elaborate on that statement? Especially in regards to how The Owl House’s worldbuilding and themes clash with Harry Potter’s?

Oh man... I don't want my blog to be consumed by Harry Potter Hot Takes. I'd prefer to vent most of those feelings through my wizard books instead, it's more productive that way.

So, ok, short version: The Owl House is about a teenager from the mundane world discovering there's a magical world hidden away, goes there to learn magic, and in the process uncovers a plot by an abominable fascist to commit genocide. In very simplistic terms, that is more or less the same plot as Harry Potter.

But the devil's in the details, isn't it? Luz doesn't have any grand inheritance to claim, no prophecy to fulfill, nothing that makes her the most special specialest special person of all time. There's even a whole episode early on where a villain tries to lure her to her doom by claiming she's the chosen one, and the lesson is that NO ONE is "chosen" for greatness - greatness is something you make yourself, not something that's thrust upon you. She is not inherently gifted as a witch - in fact, she struggles harder because she doesn't have a a special bladder true witches are born with, and has to learn an ancient and forgotten method of spellcasting basically from scratch to cast spells at all. She is, emphatically and at times definitely deliberately, the opposite of what Harry Potter is.

So is her academic experience. There's a magic school in this setting, and (at first) it wants nothing to do with Luz because she's human, not a witch, and thus is believed to be incapable of casting spells. So Luz's primary mode of education on magic comes from a private mentor, Eda, who is also a wanted criminal and social outcast because of her disdain for the draconian rules of their society. Eda is an unconventional but magnificent mentor, one who is as willing to try new things and learn new methods as Luz herself, and who helps Luz discover ways to make possible what everyone else claims is impossible. Eventually Luz does convince the magic school to take her in, but in the process she changes how it runs, challenging a lot of its preconceived notions and forcing them to do better.

Which is vital, because the biggest problem facing the society of this magical world is narrow-minded reliance on outdated social categorization. Like HP, people are sorted into categories (covens here instead of houses), which they are then forced to stick to and never dabble in the others. It is explicitly compared to both the concept of tracking in real world education (i.e. forcing kids into a career path early and ONLY giving them education relevant to that one career) and the house system of HP:

And it's wrong. It's both presented as needlessly limiting, terrible for encouraging advancement and growth of both the students and society as a whole, and an immoral system that's only kept alive by the "Well, this is how we've always done it" inertia that keeps so many awful traditions in education alive. And I really do mean it's immoral, because it's the brain child and secretly crucial evil tool of a genocidal fascist.

I kind of cringe at writing those two words since I feel people have been WAY too quick to accuse cartoon villains from children's shows of fascism and genocide - like, Chairface Chippendale writing his name on the moon with a laser would probably kill a shitload of people in real life, but that doesn't mean he's an analogue to Hitler. But Belos, like fellow Disney villain Frollo, is clearly intended to be exactly that: a genocidal fascist. In a world full of magic-fueled absurdist black comedy beats, Emperor Belos stands out as a consistently serious threat, tonally dissonant with his surroundings in a way that makes him chillingly effective as a villain. And like real world powerful bigots, his power primarily comes from the fact that the systems of society favor his mindset over those of outsides like Luz and Eda - all the systems of oppression our heroes chafe against were either created by or worsened by him, with the express purpose of using them to kill everyone and everything in the magical world.

Luz could not be more thematically opposed to her enemy, and the story is incredibly consistent in showing how defeating Belos alone isn't enough, but that the systems that empowered him have to be disproven and dismantled. His enablers must be destroyed or humbled, the prejudices he encouraged must be torn down and fought at every turn, and innovation and progress must be embraced for the good of all. There's so much stuff you could analyze about the themes in that show regarding oppression and the othering of people who are different, and it's all so, SO much more consistent than the discussion of the same themes you'll find in Harry Potter.

[peonpeonpeonpeonpeon]

A Melancholy Feeling

In which, to draw out more information, you ask Malleus a particular request,

—

A/N: just for info this is an attempt to write smth w malleus bc im bored and I gen cant do anything to finish up my silver x yuu x malleus series so woohoo, SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7, this is set during the party after malleus overblot

word count : 1.5k

dw its gonna be crossposted on ao3

Memories continue to torment your ear, silent pleas, breathtaking melody in your hearing.

It’s fate that brought us here..

It’s always that same light that reflects the mirror. A mirror that leaves almost transparent figures prancing across the reflection. There were confettis, a beautiful princess dancing across the ballroom, hand in hand with her prince. Two of them were the center of everything, they were the spotlight, the light of the moment. The surrounding people singing an anthem,

It almost felt like a dream, no, a memory.

“Yuu? Yuu! What are you doing dazzling around the corner?!” Grim climbs atop of your shoulder, not aware of what you are experiencing. “Hold it Grim.. it feels.. out of place..” You shoo his fur off resulting a whine out of the familiar. His paws hitting the marble-like floor of the ballroom. Looking back at the chandelier presenting itself on top, you shut back your eyes. “Dizzy..” You excuse yourself from Grim as you wander off somewhere across the gigantic room.

Stay, I pray you..

The heels of your footwear clicked, palm holding your head up as you stare off the ground and onto an enclosed entrance at a hallway. Certainly, it is the same strange feeling you felt at Lilia’s not-so farewell party. Dazing at the giant door, your hands kept in your chest. You gently close your eyes, a flashback of a place..

A sky of dawn, clouds painted thoroughly around, ballet of swans effortlessly formatting an arrow in the sky. I know this place.. Falling through the thick and thin clouds with stiff hands around your waist and a fuzzy furball with spikes in your arms, it feels quite unknowingly that it is the same place you and Silver have grown your friendship over traveling dreams. It sends you back into a trance as you recall his murmuring towards you.

I walked with you once upon a dream..

“That dream.. The Thorn Witch and the Sleeping Beauty, what are they trying to envision me?”

Backing down, you find yourself on a balcony winded with maple tree leaves. A silent view it seems, well, up until you bumped into someone..

“It seems my presence has always been fated to meet you.”

“Hornton?” You look up, his bangs has slicked back and Draconian scales dragged from the edge of his forehead. His figure adorned with fine ore material traditionally used by Briar Valley. His tail sitting nicely tucked around the fine silk attire. Malleus Draconia, or rather, the Crown Prince of Briar Valley.

“You called?” He swings his cape open, inviting you to stand beside him while holding onto the railings. “No, I just wanted to talk to.. someone, I guess.”

“Your wish is my command, Child of Man. What shall you inquire from me?” Once you took a step or two forward, he encloses his cape around your figure. “Polite,” You smile, earning a returning smile with shaped brows. Amusing Malleus even further. “It’s about the Thorn Witch, or rather the Great Seven in its basics,”

“What shall be the problem, Child of Man?”

“I told you before didn’t I? I had a dream, that night, the Thorn Witch appears much more than an elegant figure, she’s.. more intimidating, more of a resentment villain who refuses to help others, being able to help herself; mirroring the image she has in all.” Your hand reaches for a kiss in your forehead. This is all so otherworldly for you. He crosses his arms—Silent yet never in his mind he does. He eventually nods.

“Tales alike can be morphed into.. a story with different morals. Sometimes people will fall for them. Generation to generation. I suppose we could talk more in this full moon.”

“So it’s like a propaganda? I still don’t understand what my dreams have in correlations with the Great Seven you worship, maybe these are their true stories, maybe it’s to test a powerless human from another dimension, maybe..” I was meant to be the protagonist of this story.

Sent from an entire different universe with different settings, maybe I was sent here to help gain others to their senses. “No.. that’s impossible..”

“What is it, Child of Man?” He receives a shake of a head. Letting him bubble up another question. “Is the Fairy of Thorns the only person you see in your dreams?” Another negative response. He closes his eyes.

“Tell me, recall them as you must. You want me to help you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Hornton I.. I’ve had a few trances before. Once, it was a tyrannical monarch ruling over a land so strange it conveys ‘normal rules’, another thing is a leader of a pack of hyenas desperate to be king, a contractor that has a trait so likely to be a manipulative sinister merfolk, an immoral, acknowledging sorcerer whose ideas can eliminate anybody, an envious queen that never stood up to anybody’s ugliness, and a ruler of the abyss; a cunning grim reaper that brings death to the underworld..”

“All of them were taken in a familiar figure such as the Great Seven you all spoke off, was I meant to wipe that glaze? I’m not exactly special in this field..” The dreams has been viewed to you in a place; an unpolished mirror basking in your sweet room. You crow, what were they trying to tell you? To curse and to bless you with a possible truth to the world. It feels like something or someone’s finger is already extended to its end to touch yet you still can’t reach to feel its own fingertips.

“Not to mention, that big-rounded eared mouse. When you sent us into a never ending slumber, I met him, a quite cartoon-y mouse that always shows up in my room’s mirror. It seems like I can only meet him physically in that product of my deep sleep.” Your implications struck, leaving Malleus agape. “Are you implying to curse you with another eternal sleep? I suggest you shall stop taking risks—"

“It’s how we find out the truth isn’t it? We can’t stand here knowing that there is a reached opportunity for us to learn and to acknowledge a part we could perceive wrong for our whole entire life. I might be magicless, I might be particularly a baby born yesterday, but my guts are telling me to investigate it. Let me partake my role as you do yours.” You reached for his arm, specifically his inner elbow, you can feel the fine cloth hugging it, making you sweat more nervously than before. You had not lived your life like this to end up looking like you are offering yourself to the Lord of Malevolence.

“You have bold requests, dear Child of Man,” A lump reaches your throat, mentally stopping you to blabber another paragraph from your mouth. Malleus’ hand had a mutual body language, sticking out to your upper arm. His left hand still attached to the railings like yours. Somehow your nickname is now “Dear Child of Man”,, you don’t know what’s that sudden upgrade of a nickname but it sure made your heart pumped more blood; it aches. His eyes wander to the floor beneath them. Attempting to search for a proper response with his eyes.

“You seem reluctant.”

His hand rotates slightly, his quiet long scratching lightly against your arm, yet you didn’t flinch. All of this are new to him. He can’t just endanger you like this, although..

“You seem.. enthusiastic about this. If it grants you an answer then I shall make a wish come true.” You tighten your hold against his. Wrinkles appear at the corner of your eyes. “You’re the man, Hornton!” He huffed his usual chuckle, you look like a blessing from gods as he is about to ‘curse’ you, a heaven’s light still being able to shine after being ignited with hellfire.

“Radiant, dear Child of Man. If it is polite to ask,”

You tilt, your head, curious. His hand creeping up your shoulder to gently rake the back of your head. In sync, both of your eyes flattered as you two get lost in eachother’s iris. His unique slit pupil softening before closing in the hesitancy with enthusiasm written by a fountain pen in his heart. Your eyes close, taking in the strong scent Malleus had in him then to focus on the feeling of his sweet adorned kiss melting you both physically and mentally.

You return the affection, gliding your fingertips up to his collared neck. A perfect prince and his dearest, that’s what. It’s melancholic in some way.

Muffled strings and notes of orchestra clashes with the sounds of crickets and the fluttering clicks of moving wings of fireflies in the distance. The intimate interaction has finished, your lips peeling off the mixed gloss you now both wore after two intertwining session. He holds you close to his chest, letting you bury yourself into the cloth. Not only that, he lets you embrace his waist, adding on more to the overwhelmingly positive feeling on both of your desires.

You feel heavy, not an unusual feeling, you hope. Malleus is going easy on you, right? Drifting off to a deep slumber, you assured him you will meet what resulted in these dreams. Then, why didn’t you see that big eared mouse, or the twisted Great Seven?

—

bad end lol whoopsies

[freezerbnuuy]

DIVIDED - Sims Story Navigation Page

If you like longer stories, a focus on friendship and family (there is romance, but it's not the priority in the story), witches, werewolves and vampires (oh my!), vaguely-historical settings and morally-messy characters, maybe give this one a shot.

Divided is a story that is nearly finished. It currently stands at about 110 chapters approx. I estimate that the story will finish at about 120-125 chapters, but no guarantees as of yet. It's written in a 'typical' prose style, and set in a vaguely-historical period 300 years before the 'present day' of the story universe. It's a mess in terms of time period that takes inspiration from multiple time periods, taking inspiration from the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries especially.

The story is set mostly in Henford and the neighbouring village of Glimmerbrook during a time of a witch-hunt mostly figureheaded by draconian Tartosan noble Lord Volpe. It follows multiple POVs including young witch and the eventual first Sage, Áine (the premade Tess Dyer), Peteran priest Reynold, arcane saleswoman Katlego, the eccentric vampire Oskar, the well-renowned and feared physician Owen, and many others. It is a story mostly about unity, division, family, friendship, and faith, and features a cast full of morally-messed-up characters who eventually come together to try rid Henford and the surrounding country of the influence of Volpe and his witchfinders - but it is easier said than done.

Content warnings below, also at the top of each story page.

LORE | CHARACTERS | TUMBLR STORY TAG FULL CHAPTER INDEX | PLAYLIST ABOUT THE STORY + CONTENT WARNINGS PROLOGUE: SHORT VERSION

[intplayboy]

WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]

if you wish to be part of the tag list, complete the form.

summary: in an era where the royal family denounces all magic, as one of the few remaining witches, you hide your powers. though you try to lead a normal life, only the seven accepting men make you feel truly understood. yet, what destiny awaits when you must reveal your true identity?

genre: supernatural/magic au | medieval-modern fusion fantasy au | F2L (more like idiots to lovers, honestly) | moderate? angst | action | romance | fluff | hint of crack

pairing: royal soldiers bts ot7 x female witch reader (high royal commander!kim namjoon, high royal soldier!kim seokjin, high royal soldier!min yoongi, royal assassin!jung hoseok, royal assassin!park jimin, elite warrior!kim taehyung, elite warrior!jeon jungkook)

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, death, slight mentions of SA, disgusting misogyny, witchcraft, slight gore, and swearing.

permanent tag list: @taolucha, @exfolitae, @namjoonswaifu, @rinkud, @queenlouie18, @btsgangleader @m0v3m3ntsblog, @nicholedobre-blog, @bjoriis, @princess-sunshyn, @han-aaaaa, @ejspencer14, @skyys-universe, @thvslvt, @dustyinkpages, @savagemickey03, @aynbookworm, @loveforred, @jwonz, @ghostlyworld, @wagtte, @louisaqueen, @meepsters-world, @carolina-thiell, @svnbangtansworld, @deepestfacedevil

(the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

drabble masterpost | masterlist | character boards | prologue | part 1 | part 2 [finale] | alternate ending

word count: 8,942

*note: the fictional language that will be spoken a lot throughout this story is called "Astrithian". it's mainly used among witches to converse without being understood to outsiders and to vocalize their magic. there will also be a lot of terminology used, which will be explained*

********

15 enchantas ago... (Derived from "Enchant" and "Era," Enchanta marks a single year. It reflects the enchantment and wonder that pervade the world, making each year unique.)

In the midst of the forest that bordered your humble abode, a thrilling spectacle unfolded. Giggles erupted from your seven-year-old self as you dash through the trees, your small feet carrying you swiftly across the woodland floor. Behind you, seven older companions pursued with a mixture of determination and amusement, transforming the surroundings into an endless playground.

Ten-year-old Jimin, one of your companions, couldn't help but grumble in his pursuit. "How is she so tiny, yet moves with such speed?"

A mischievous giggle escaped nine-year-old Jungkook. "Perhaps it's because you're too tiny yourself."

Jimin narrow his eyes at Jungkook. "Your humor lacks refinement."

"I beg to differ. It sounded rather amusing to me," thirteen-year-old Jin chimed in, joining the teasing banter.

"Fine. I wager two draconian ingots that none of you can catch her," Jimin challenged, ego slightly bruised.

(draconian ingots, crafted from rare golden mystical alloys associated with legendary dragons, symbolized wealth and power, reflecting the dragons' historical influence on the world.)

"Two draconian ingots?! Game on!" Jungkook shouts with enthusiasm. "Prepare to be caught, Y/N!"

The onlookers, including Jimin and the rest, watched in astonishment as little Jungkook accelerated on his nimble feet. "Wait—hey!"

"I don't know if you're generous or foolish for making such a bet with Jungkook," eleven-year-old Namjoon remarked, shaking his head with a chuckle.

A groan escapes Jimin as he laments his decision. "Don't remind me..."

Undeterred by the unforeseen turn of events, Taehyung seizes the opportunity, surging ahead in the pursuit of both victory and draconian ingots. "I'm with Jungkook! I want those draconian ingots! Here I come, Y/N!"

The forest echoes with the playful banter and the rustle of leaves as the pursuit continues, transforming a simple chase into a spirited competition fueled by the allure of mythical riches.

Twelve-year-old Yoongi, however, couldn't hide his weariness. "Must we turn a playful chase into a pursuit of bets and riches? I'm growing tired."

"What do you mean? It's always fun! I'm having a blast!" cheered Hoseok.

Jin, always the peacemaker, interjects with playful sarcasm. "You're perpetually tired, Yoongi. Don't use that excuse now."

"But do we really need to take it this far…" Yoongi grumbles.

"Hey, Y/N initially wanted to share something exciting with us. It somehow evolved into a spirited chase," observed Namjoon, thinking of you as a little rascal.

After a short span of a brisk run, you and your seven friends find yourselves at the unexpected marvel you had eagerly anticipated. Pausing to catch your breath, you turn around swiftly, ready to unveil the surprise to your companions.

As they gather around, you theatrically gesture towards it. "Behold! Is it not wondrous?!!"

As their eyes take in the scene before them, their expressions transform into sheer astonishment. "A concealed waterfall?!"

Grinning broadly at their reactions, you declare, "It is not merely a waterfall, my lords."

Confused gazes meet yours, urging you to elaborate. Your excitement bubbles over as you squeal, "It is a magical waterfall!"

"Mother and father informed me that by tossing in a single lunaris shilling, one's deepest desire can be granted," you share with delight. "And should you swim in its waters, every injury and ailment will be miraculously healed!"

(lunaris shillings are silver coins that embody the magic and mystery associated with the moon. they are prized for their magical properties and are often used in mystical transactions.)

A silence lingers as they absorb the revelation, still processing the words that spill from your lips regarding the hidden waterfall discovered in collaboration with your parents.

The more they remain silent, the more a sense of gloom starts to settle within you. Doubt begins to creep in, wondering if they share your enthusiasm or if they question the authenticity of your claims. Yet, you know it to be true – you've witnessed the magical properties of the water firsthand. Your mother's wish for an early harvest season, whispered as she tossed in a shilling, came to fruition three auroas sooner, a testament to the enchanted nature of the waterfall.

(auroa: unique term representing months, inspired by the word "aurora." it symbolizes the cycles of magic, similar to the changing colors of the northern lights.)

You recall the time your father succumbed to a severe respiratory illness, the burden fell upon you and your mother to transport his weakened body to the mystical waters. As you immersed him, a miraculous transformation unfolded before your eyes—the pallor of sickness dissipated, the shadows under his eyes vanished, and vitality surged back into his frail form.

"Well, I have a pair of lunaris shillings right now. Shall we have a go at it, then?" Hoseok approaches, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the silver coins.

The others, initially hesitant, soon follow Hoseok's lead, drawn by the allure of the magical cascade. "Yeah, let's all try it," they chorused, surrendering to the enchantment that lingered in the air.

"Besides, if witches live among us, who's to say magic is not to be real?" Hoseok grins at you, his warmth radiating in the face of uncertainty. Hoseok, with his innate sense of empathy, stood out among your companions, always ready to defend you and find positivity in every situation. He was the angel of your group, and you couldn't help but hope that this facet of his character transcended across all universes.

As you stood in line with Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi, the sparkling waterline glistened under the moonlight, drawing your attention to the tranquil body of water that connected to the majestic waterfall.

"What are you guys wishing for?" you ask with genuine curiosity, the anticipation of fulfilling desires shimmering in the air.

Hoseok gazes ahead pensively before releasing a soft sigh. "To become the finest royal guard in all the kingdom, and to bring honor to each of you," he declared, casting his single shilling into the waters with a determined flick of his wrist.

"You already bring us great pride, Hobi," you reassure him with a tender smile, warmth radiating from your words.

His lips curved into a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Well, I wish to live long and healthy." Jimin says, throwing his own lunaris shillings.

Jungkook, ever the playful one, puffs up his chest with pride, drawing laughter from the group. "I wish to be the strongest in the kingdom so that I can save you anytime, my lady," he declares, a cheesy smile accompanying his theatrical gesture.

You chuckle at his charming display, reciprocating with a smile as he playfully toss his shillings into the water.

A mischievous glint dances in Taehyung's eyes as he steps forward, his wish spoken with a lighthearted jest. "My wish is to remain the most handsome boy in our kingdom!" His shilling follows suit, accompanied by a playful nudge from Jimin.

"You're already a vision, Taehyungie. Such a frivolous wish," Jimin jests, teasing his friend with a good-natured grin.

Taehyung feigns offense, his lips twisting into a mock pout. "Must one's desires be subject to scrutiny? Besides, Y/N herself claimed the water grants any desire. Who am I to resist such potential?"

Seokjin, a noble soul, spoke with a regal air, "I desire to amass wealth, second only to the royal family, to shower you all with opulence whenever the whim takes me." With a flourish, he tosses his lunaris shillings into the mystical depths.

"Ever the provider, Seokjin," Namjoon remarks with a warm smile directed at his older companion.

"Only for you guys," Seokjin replies with a twinkle in his eye.

Yoongi yawns. "Well, for me, I wish to have the best sleeps for all the years to come."

Hoseok rolls his eyes. "Ugh, come on Yoons, this is your one wish, and you're going with that?"

"Mhmm, deal with it," Yoongi concedes. "I wish for the highest standing in the royal court."

Hoseok, in mock surprise, teased, "Hmm, a throne for the sleepyhead. I wonder how that'll unfold."

Yoongi, unfazed, tosses his lunaris shillings into the water alongside the others.

"Now it's my turn... I wish to make a profound impact on our world, something that will resonate with the hearts of the people," Namjoon says, casting his lunaris shillings into the water.

A chorus of awed reactions follows, as Namjoon's words consistently embody honor and admiration from each of you.

"That's truly admirable, Joon," you express, admiration sparkling in your eyes as you smile at him.

Namjoon chuckles, encircling his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into a side hug. "And now, little one, what is your heart's desire?"

"Yeah, you're the last one, Y/N," Taehyung grins widely, the anticipation evident in the group, mirroring their eagerness to hear your wish.

You pause, caught in a moment of contemplation. A recollection surfaces in your mind, a distant echo of your mother's words cautioning you against casting a wish with a lunaris shillings. The water, a benevolent deity of desires, grants wishes to those who offer a solitary shilling, but for reasons never fully explained by your mother, you have always been denied this privilege. However, surrounded by the fervor of your companions' wishes, a yearning to make your own desire known begins to swell within you.

"I... I'm not sure. My mother always cautioned against it," you admit reluctantly.

A collective disbelief and confusion painted the faces of your friends. Namjoon's expression shifted, a slight frown forming on his features. "Why so, my lady?"

"Indeed, you've spoken of it yourself, and your mother too, that the waters grant any wish to those who offer a single lunaris shilling," Taehyung chimed in.

"That seems unjust, does it not? Why should everyone else revel in the joy of making a wish while you are barred?" Jimin pouts, hands resting on his hips.

You can only offer a helpless shrug, your own confusion matching theirs. Yet, before the moment can stretch further, Jungkook strides forward with determination. "Regardless, I believe you should still cast your wish."

"Wait, Jungkook, perhaps there exists a concealed rationale behind Y/N's mother's reluctance. Must we really question her discernment?" Seokjin, reasoned with an air of gentleness.

Jungkook, however, was not swayed. "Indeed, Seokjin, but if such were the case, why did she she impart knowledge of its enchanting powers of the waters to Y/N? It's utterly nonsensical and, dare I say, unjust."

With a firm resolve, Jungkook declared, "She merits the opportunity to express her desires, just as we have."

Seokjin, though still uncertain, mused, "Mhmm, I remain unconvinced, Jungkook. Namjoon, what say you?"

Namjoon pondered, his fingers thoughtfully scratching his chin. "You both make good points."

An expectant hush enveloped the room until Yoongi, the voice of nonchalance, broke the silence. "Well, we find ourselves here now, do we not? What's hindering you?" All eyes turned toward him, waiting for his next utterance.

"Her parents are absent, and only the eight of us bear witness to this clandestine affair. Should none of us breathe a word of tonight, her wish can remain a concealed mystery," Yoongi suggested with tone of indifference.

"So, at this juncture, what hindrance do you perceive?" he nonchalantly reiterated.

Hoseok, ever the optimist, chimed in, "He's not wrong, you know."

As Namjoon turned his gaze back to you. "Well, the decision is ultimately upon you, Y/N," he uttered, his eyes studying you intently.

You purse your lips, your mind racing with possibilities. This choice holds the power to shape your destiny, to alter the course of your life in ways both profound and unforeseen. Beside you, Yoongi's words echo faintly, a reminder of the absence that looms over you like a shadow. Your mother's influence, once a guiding force, now exists only in memory. Here, among friends who value your autonomy, you find the freedom to chart your own course.

With a determined grip, you nodded, the lunaris shilling clutched in your hand. "Very well, I shall make my wish."

The younger members of your group erupt in cheers, their excitement palpable in the air. Hoseok beams at you with infectious enthusiasm.

"And what shall be your wish, my dear lady?" He asks eagerly, his eyes alight with curiosity.

A smile graced your lips. "My wish is for all of us to remain together in happiness, perhaps for an eternity!"

Their smiles mirrored your own, appreciative of the simplicity yet profound sentiment behind your wish.

"What a splendid wish, my lady," Namjoon praised, his admiration evident. With that, you cast your lunaris shillings into the water—and in this moment, a sense of peace washes over you, filling the air with a quiet serenity, surrounded by those who cherish you, you feel truly alive.

As the moon cast its silvery glow upon the path, you and your seven companions strolled toward the cozy cottage that served as your haven. Laughter echoed in the night air as the camaraderie among you all painted a picture of joy and carefree revelry. However, the joyful ambiance quickly shifted when you glimpsed your mother anxiously waiting in the doorway, a deep furrow of concern etched upon her brow.

Oblivious to the impending unease, you hastened towards her, your heart brimming with excitement for the shared supper with your parents and friends. Yet, your mother's countenance betrayed a different sentiment.

"Y/N, where on Earth have you all been?" she exclaimed, her voice edged with worry.

Perplexity clouded your once radiant expression. "What do you mean, Mother? We were merely frolicking in the woods, as is our wont."

"Something has occurred; we must make ready to depart," she urged, grasping your shoulders with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. Her gaze then shifted to the perplexed and apprehensive faces of your friends, who formed a line behind you.

"Is everything alright, Amahra?" Namjoon inquired with a hint of trepidation.

(Amahra is an endearing term used to address a woman who holds a nurturing and motherly role in someone's life. It is often used with great respect and affection, to acknowledge a maternal figure in the Astrithian language. The overall pronunciation would be similar to "ah-MAH-rah," with a slight rolling of the "r" if you're comfortable doing so.)

A rueful chuckle escaped her lips. "My dear Zarëln, I regret to inform you that you must return to your homes and families."

(In Astrithian, an endearing term used by elders or those in a nurturing role to affectionately address a younger person can be "Zarël," pronounced as "Zah-rehl." This term signifies a sense of protection and guidance, expressing a bond likened to that of a parent and child. To refer to more than one child, you would pluralize it as "Zarëln," pronounced as "Zah-reln.")

"It is urgent for all of us, and for all of you. My farewells must be swift, I'm afraid," she added.

"Mother, what troubles you?" you asked, a somber worry shading your features.

Kneeling down, she gently replied, "I shall explain later, my daughter." Turning to your seven friends, who remained rooted in confusion, she implored, "You all must go now!"

"Return home, my Zarëln, promptly!" she softly commanded, tears glistening in her eyes unbeknownst to you and your friends.

"We shall take our leave then," Namjoon declared, cutting through the bewildering silence. The decision was made for the group, yet the youngest, Jungkook, hesitated.

"But, Namjoon..." His gaze shifted between Namjoon, you and your mother, his reluctance evident as he grappled between concern for you and an unspoken fear lingering in the atmosphere.

"She has requested our departure twice already. Let us not compel her to utter it a third time. We leave now," Namjoon asserted, directing his gaze to Jungkook and the rest of the boys, his eyes emanating a commanding authority beyond his years.

Turning to face you and your mother, Namjoon offers a reassuring smile. "We'll see each other again, Y/N—remember," he says, his words carrying a promise that stirs something deep within you, reminiscent of the wish you made not long ago at the magical waters.

With a final nod, Namjoon led the boys away from your home. Each of them bid their farewells, waving at you with a mixture of solemnity and promise.

As the seven companions gradually disappeared from view, your mother ushered you inside the quaint cottage. She pulled you along by your wrist, and inside, you found your father in a state of hurried activity, stuffing various items into a sizable cloth pouch.

"Father... Why are you packing? What's happening? Mother won't tell me anything," you inquire, your innocence tinged with concern.

Your father halted his frenzied movements and fixed his gaze on you, his eyes holding a gentleness that momentarily softened the gravity of the situation. "I'm sorry, my little enchantress. But the times have changed now. You and your mother may be in danger, and we must flee from here to keep all of us safe."

"What...? Why, Father?" Your voice trembles with emotion, betraying the sadness that grips your heart at the news.

"Children!" The mothers of the seven boys exclaimed, their figures silhouetted against the dim lamplight of the late evening, their faces etched with concern as they awaited their sons coming from their Quadravicar.

(Quadravicar: its name, derived from the fusion of "Quadra" for four and "Vicar," symbolizes both its capacity and its role as a symbol of prestige and status in the kingdom.)

"Mother, what's the matter? It's unusual to find you all gathered like this upon our return from Y/N's," Jin remarked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension as he and his friends approached their mothers.

"Where are our fathers? Is there some sort of gathering?" Jin inquired without pausing for an answer to his initial query. The mothers exchanged furtive glances, a silent exchange laden with unspoken tension, while Jin's keen eyes caught sight of the Quandrivaeon.

(Quandrivaeon: The term combines elements of "Quadr-" for four passengers and wheels, and "Vaeon," a unique, exotic-sounding word evoking elegance and regality. The Quandrivaeon would be the epitome of luxury and sophistication, exclusively reserved for the royal family)

"The royal family in attendance?" Jin's brows furrowed in confusion. "Mother, please, enlighten us."

"We've came from a state of perplexity, as well. Y/N's mother hurried our farewells, urging an immediate return home," Jin continued to gaze intently at his mother, silently demanding an explanation.

Finally relenting with a soft, resigned sigh, his mother confessed, "I regret to inform you, but the royal family has orchestrated an emergency meeting with your fathers."

"An emergency meeting for what purpose?" Namjoon interjected, stepping forward with equal concern.

"A new Arcantia is to be established," Namjoon's mother interjected, noticing the other six mothers hesitated to respond, their glances fraught with reluctance.

(Arcantia: A fusion of "Arcane" and "Centuries," representing magical eras lasting a hundred years. Arcantia symbolizes the ever-changing weave of magic throughout the ages.)

"What do you mean by 'a new Arcantia'?" Hoseok's eyes widened in trepidation, sensing the gravity of the impending revelation.

"Yes, my dear children, a new Arcantia is set to commence—an Arcantia where all magic, and all who wield it, shall be expunged from the Kingdom of Pentaraegis," Namjoon's mother finally clarified.

"Banished? Magic, banned?" Jin's disbelief rang out, echoing the incredulity shared by his companions.

"That is correct, my son." Jin's mother nodded in solemn. But to them, the boys, it seemed so feigned.

The rest of the boys stood in shock and disbelief, grappling with the revelation. The abrupt prohibition of magic, so deeply intertwined with their kingdom, appeared surreal.

"For what reason?" Hoseok questioned, skepticism evident in his voice.

Their mothers exchanged glances, silently communicating with one another through their eyes, further intensifying the boys' frustration.

"Mother!" The simultaneous exclamation from the seven boys reverberated, causing their mothers to flinch involuntarily.

"We don't wish to alarm you, but unsettling whispers have circulated regarding a formidable group of witches. They seek to annex territories within our kingdom and forge alliances with covens and solitary witches alike. Your fathers, in alliance with the royal family, are marshaling forces to safeguard Pentaraegis and secure our collective future," explained Jin's mother, her eyes conveying a mix of sorrow and determination.

The weight of this revelation sent shockwaves through the faces of all seven boys. "But— but that's treason... Surely those witches comprehend the gravity of their actions," stuttered Jimin, his words hanging in the air like a lingering mist.

The countenances of their mothers mirrored the weight of the truth they had just disclosed. They understood the turbulent emotions surging within their sons upon learning of the imminent conflict. The witches' desire to claim Pentaraegis lands hinted at an impending war between two factions: the mundane humans and the witches.

In the midst of the heavy silence, Yoongi broke through with a voice that, despite his quiet nature, cut through the tension like a blade. "Is there more you wish to disclose?" His eyes remained fixed on the ground, an uncharacteristic intensity in his gaze.

"These rebellious witches have already seized control of several lands and are poised to claim another as we speak," Yoongi's mother revealed, her words landing like a solemn decree.

"W-where? Is it close by?" Jungkook's fear-laden voice trembled, his wide eyes glistening like twin constellations.

"No, thank the Gods. It's at the border of Auraventia," replied Yoongi's mother, a slight glimmer of relief accompanying her words.

"No..." Jungkook's voice trailed off, a tremor evident in his whisper, the horror mirrored in the collective visages of his companions.

"Why the distress, children?" Jin's mother inquired, her concern palpable.

"We've just returned there, or thereabouts," Jin interjected. "B-But Y/N! Her and her family is still there!"

Jin's concern resonated in his voice, mirrored by the anxious expressions of the rest of six young boys. The looming threat was not a mere abstraction; it was approaching the very doorstep of your home.

"We must extend our aid!" Hoseok exclaimed, a fervent determination in his eyes.

"No. You shall not!" Hoseok and Yoongi's mother asserted.

"And why should we not! They're in danger!" Jin exclaimed, his determination etched in the lines of his face.

"You'd be putting yourselves and all of us in jeopardy. Only a select few of us are privy to the full extent of the situation. Furthermore, we have already dispatched some of our men to aid them," Hoseok's mother reasoned with a firm resolve.

"Wait—That explains Y/N's mother hastening our farewells..." Namjoon mused aloud, prompting all the young men to turn their attention to him, eager for his insight.

Jimin silently nodded, affirming Namjoon's observation. "And did you catch that she urged Y/N to hasten her preparations..."

Taehyung furrowed his brow in contemplation, raising his gaze. "Hold on, were you all aware of this impending danger?"

Their collective silence was an admission, a realization that dawned upon them in this very moment. "And yet, you chose to withhold such crucial information from the outset!"

Jin and Namjoon turned back to their mothers, awaiting some form of explanation. "You are all truly incredulous."

Without a moment's hesitation, the seven determined young boys strode into the opulent cottage, boldly disrupting the pivotal meeting between their fathers and the royal family. The entry door was left agape in a brazen act, while their anxious mothers trailed closely behind.

"How long?" Namjoon demanded, the first to speak.

"Boys! How rude of you to barge in like this," scolded Namjoon's father with a stern tone, swiftly silenced by Namjoon's insistence. "How long were you all aware of this?!"

Gathered around a grand oval wooden table, the men, in collaboration with the King and Queen, surrounded a detailed map of the kingdom. Marked statues adorned specific locations, seemingly representing annexed territories claimed by rebellious witches. Other cryptic markers littered the tableau, leaving the boys uneasy about the ominous implications.

The seven boys darted their eyes between the unsettling symbols on the table and the elders, awaiting an explanation.

"Namjoon, boys, you can't simply demand answers like that," attempted Namjoon's mother to pacify them.

"No, the safety of our people is at stake, and none of you have uttered a word. My questions are justified," asserted Namjoon. Despite his youth, his intellect surpassed his peers, comprehending matters typically reserved for adults.

"You informed them?" Jin's father scrutinized the mothers, who wore guilt on their faces, confirming his suspicion.

"They are your children; their curiosity is unavoidable," the King interjected, diffusing the tension.

Jin, with a quizzical expression, stared at the King. "Answer the question: how long were you all aware of this dire situation?"

"Seokjin! Mind your tone with His Majesty," reprimanded Jin's father, but Jin, fixated on the King, ignored the warning, fearing the worst for you.

"I apologize for my son's tone, your Majesty," Jin's father pleaded.

The King, however, smiled and shook his head in understanding. "It's alright; fear is inevitable. To answer your query, young one, these rumors began circulating three auroas ago, and we only confirmed them just an auroa ago. Hence, your parents couldn't inform you earlier."

Hobi, perceiving an ominous aura from the red markers on the map, inquired, "What do the other markers signify?"

“Hoseok!” Hobi’s mother scolded.

The King's smile returned, though this time it bore a hint of feigned warmth, perhaps even a touch of sinister undertones. The boys couldn't quite grasp it, but they remained attentive to the King's response. "Oh, those represent the areas in our kingdom where we've dispatched our most esteemed military men for what we might term loyalty investigations."

"Loyalty investigations? Such a concept eludes my ears," Namjoon declared, narrowing his eyes. "And what transpires during these so-called 'loyalty investigations'?"

"Well, it's akin to a specialized inquiry led by the King's elite soldiers to ensure no one undermines the kingdom's stability. They visit households, pose questions, and guarantee the safety of our cherished realm. It's a kind of elaborate game of hide-and-seek, where they seek out those who may not fully grasp the importance of loyalty. Remember, unwavering support for the royal family is paramount. It's akin to a stern lesson; their language may be forceful, but it serves to underscore the imperative of unity," Yoongi's mother interjected, choosing her words carefully.

Namjoon, however, with his keen intellect, saw through the carefully crafted explanation. "So, you've instituted a military inquisition?"

"Namjoon—! Pardon my son's audacity, your Majesty," Namjoon's father hissed, bowing slightly to the King.

"What about those innocent in the matter?" Jimin asked with genuine concern in his tone.

"They, too, shall be implicated," Jimin's father promptly replied. "Now, all of you boys, leave this room at once, no more questions."

"Take them away," he ordered, motioning toward their mothers.

As they were unceremoniously dragged away in protest by their mothers, Hoseok's perceptive eyes caught something that seized his immediate interest – a red marker, situated on a land he intimately knew, sending shivers down his spine.

The border of Auraventia.

His eyes widened. "Wait!"

"We recognize that place! Why is Y/N's residence marked?" Hoseok questioned in a panic, breaking free from his mother's grip.

Upon hearing Hoseok's revelation, the remaining boys also swiftly broke free, their concern escalating for you, now aware that the red markers signified an inquisition for her household. The gravity of the situation deepened, understanding that you and your family residing at the border of Auraventia, was the sole target.

"What?!! Why?!!" the seven of them chorused.

"I can assure you, Your Majesty, Y/N and her family are innocent!" Jin pleaded, unwittingly shedding a watery sting, echoed by the other six boys, revealing the profound concern they held for you.

"I thought you were seeking and reprimanding witches, not targeting humans too?" Hoseok exclaimed in worry.

"Oh, you all must be mistaken—" The King began to reply, but his wife, the Queen, interrupted, glancing at him and shaking her head discreetly, directing his attention to the seven mothers with pleading faces, silently conveying, "These boys don't know the whole truth."

This prompted the King to reconsider. "Well, young ones, you'd be surprised how often humans align themselves with those not of their kind. As the ruler and protector of my kingdom, I must take all necessary safety measures. Do you all understand?"

Though the King framed his words with an air of nobility and concern, it failed to resonate with the boys. Their thoughts were consumed by you and your safety.

"If that's to be the case, then we request to witness the inquisition. To ensure a fair process for both your soldiers and Y/N and her family," Namjoon suggested.

"Absolutely not," Namjoon's father affirmed.

"Father!" Namjoon exclaimed in defiance.

"Enough, Namjoon; it needs to be done!" his father replied assertively.

Jimin, with a fervent gleam in his eyes, threw his stance into the fray. "And what of her mother and father? Are you all forgetting Y/N's parents are your dear friends just like Y/N is to us! Do you have no faith in them?" he argued, his words laced with a blend of concern and exasperation.

"Jimin, my child, this is what is necessary for all of us, don't you all understand that?" Jimin's mother interjected, her tone a mixture of sympathy and determination, attempting to calm the rising storm.

"But at the expense of our dear friends?! We will not accept this!" Jin's voice rang out, his frustration mirroring Jimin's.

"We're going. Whether you all like it or not," Namjoon declared, his gaze unwavering, his resolve like iron.

"And we've told you, you shall not!" Namjoon's father objected, his voice laced with authority, yet tinged with a hint of desperation.

In response, Namjoon lifted his chin defiantly, a silent proclamation of his unwavering resolve. He and his friends had made up their minds on how to proceed with the situation. You held a significance that transcended familial ties. You are not just a friend; you are a vital part of their lives. The circumstance puzzled them – how their parents, despite being friends with your parents, harbored an air of inequity towards them.

"Everyone, run to the Quadravicar!" Namjoon urgently commanded his six companions, swiftly pivoting and taking off with them.  The urgency in his voice spurred the group into action, a sense of rebellion fueling their movements.

"Namjoon! Boys, get back here!" The adults, voices raised in futile protest, attempted to chase after the departing group. The room erupted into a chaotic scene as the seven friends made a daring escape. The Quadravicar, their trusty steed, stood ready, its sleek form ready for the impending departure. With a swift motion, they mounted the vehicle, narrowly evading the grasp of pursuing fathers, as the Quadravicar surged forward with the speed of galloping horses, leaving the dissenting voices behind in the dust.

Merely moments ago, your family had readied themselves to abandon the safety of your cottage, fleeing the encroaching menace that had suddenly besieged your peaceful abode. It seemed as though fate had cruelly delivered a curse upon your doorstep, a curse that your family futilely tried to escape. As the door swung shut behind you, a dozen hooded women materialized, an ominous presence blocking your path.

"Ahvë, sē thōz klam, sēstrï," uttered a woman assumed to be the leader among the hooded ensemble, her voice echoing hauntingly across the somber scene. (translation: Hello, it's been so long, sister.)

"Why are you here?" your mother demanded, shielding you behind her while you clutched at her clothes, your fists tightening with anxiety.

"You are well aware of my purpose," replied the woman cryptically. "I come bearing a proposition."

"How ironic, after Lumiras of silence, now you come with a 'proposition'?" scoffed your mother, her tone laced with disdain. "I have no need of your offerings, sēstrï."

(A fusion of "Luminous" and "Era," Lumira represents ten years. It signifies periods of enlightenment and advancements in both magic and technology.)

A sly chuckle escaped the woman's lips. "Oh, but you may find it worth your while to listen."

With a deliberate motion, the woman cast aside her hood, revealing a countenance of unearthly allure—fair skin, with chiseled features, slim crimson heart-shaped lips curved in a beguiling smile, and eyes like shining emeralds. Yet beneath her beauty lurked a palpable menace, instilling fear in your heart despite her captivating facade.

"As you are aware, the royal family dispatched their most formidable military unit to apprehend you all—perhaps excluding the seemingly inconsequential human male by your side," she began, advancing purposefully toward your mother and you, each step resonating with ominous intent.

"And what do you think they'll do to you and that child of yours, given your bloodline?" she posed, her voice laden with sinister implications.

"Their declaration of a new Arcantia is nothing but an excuse to exterminate all living witches, our bloodline, simply because we've proven to be stronger and more powerful than them," the woman explained, a mocking laughter escaped her lips. "We've wounded their ego, it appears..."

Your mother narrowed her eyes, a clear defiance in her gaze. "No, it's because you're committing treason. You're seizing their land and unjustly punishing innocents who possess no magic. Your actions have invited their wrath."

Feigning weariness, the woman sighed, "You are naive and blindly loyal to those who would betray you. You've forgotten how closely you've approached an enemy patiently biding their time."

Now orbiting you and your parents, she condescendingly mused, "Normalcy is a luxury denied to us, given our bloodline. Yours is a life destined for anything but the ordinary."

"And your talk of treason is but a veil," she continued. "I seek only to reveal our true nature as witches, among the most formidable entities in existence, to those who would subjugate us. The time has come for them to bow to our supremacy."

"These lands was once ours—do you not remember?"

Indignant, your mother argued, "Yes, those lands was once ours, but history has unfolded, and we must adapt. Your actions only validate their fears, pushing them to extremes."

To this, the woman responded, "Adaptation is a luxury you cannot afford, ensconced in your delusions. Our roots run deep, and reclaiming what is rightfully ours necessitates drastic measures."

Your mother furrowed her brows in disagreement, "This is not the way. We can't stoop to their level. It's not who we are."

She furrowed her brow in frustration. "You know, you speak of treason, yet it is you who have betrayed our kind, aligning with our adversaries," she accused.

She then sighs with an air of indifference, beginning to walk away from you and your parents. "Well, it's too late now..."

Your mother's head shook in a plea. "No, it's not too late—please, Veranōthi."

(A female name in Astrithian meaning "beauty of night". The overall pronunciation would be: "Vay-rahn-aw-thee.")

At the mention of her name, Veranōthi halted, her posture stiffening. She emitted a mocking chuckle. "You remain unchanged, Sorëi," she muttered with a derisive tone.

(A female name in Astrithian meaning "heaven's light". "Sorëi" is pronounced as "saw-ray.")

With a thoughtful lift of her head, she contemplated for a brief moment. Veranōthi then pivoted back towards your family, before morphing into a narrowed gaze with a sinister gleam. "As I was saying, you've been branded as traitors..."

"And so now, you have two choices, as my proposition: align with us or face dire consequences at the hands of your 'allies'—or I could rid you or your abomination child myself," she proposed, a cruel smile curling on her lips.

"She is but a child, devoid of fault. Have you no mercy?" implored your mother.

"She defies the natural order, a product of forbidden magic." Veranōthi retorted. "You meddled with forces best to be left alone, bringing forth one who should have remained in the realm of shadows—An anomaly that challenges the very fabric of existence."

"She is my daughter, and I am a mother—a mother who would defy the heavens for her child," your mother asserted resolutely. "A sentiment you, devoid of such maternal bonds, cannot comprehend."

The tension thickened as the confrontation reached its climax, the air heavy with the weight of impending choices and irreparable consequences.

"I trust you haven't forgotten I am not one to entertain indecision. Sentiment holds no sway here. Choose wisely," Veranōthi warned, her voice tinged with impatience. "It's quite simple, you see..."

"You claim motherhood... wouldn't you desire to witness your child flourish into a powerful witch among us? Joining forces with me and our kind is the logical path forward," she urged, attempting to persuade your mother.

"And consider the vast potential we could unlock with our combined magic, alongside your child," she added with a smirk.

Your mother seemed momentarily swayed, her brows furrowing in contemplation. Sensing her hesitation, your father intervened. "Sorëi, do not heed her words. They are but lies meant to deceive."

Veranōthi's expression soured at your father's rebuttal, and with a swift gesture, her hand illuminated with magic. "Silence, mortal," she hissed, casting an enchantment that caused your father's lips to seal as if stitched together.

His eyes widened in realization, and your mother, cognizant of the sorcery at play, lifted her gaze, alarmed by the silent coercion. "Don't you dare use your magic on my husband!"

"Fëstöl." Your mother says with enchantment, gracefully waving her hand in the air illuminating her hand with her own magic, undoing the magically coercion done by her fellow witch.

(translation: unbind. "Fëstöl" is pronounced as "fay-stohl". pronounce "stohl," where "st" is pronounced as in English, and "öl" is pronounced like "aw" in "saw.")

Your mother then shifts her eyes to Veranōthi with seriousness. "You can try push your limits with your magic on the royal family and other humans Veranōthi, but I will not allow it on my family."

"There is a line you do not cross, and I am warning you."

Veranōthi begins to giggle then morphs into a laughing then a manic laugh. "You must be joking. Are you threatening me, Sorëi?"

"You—out of all people. An Ëzaraulthi?" She continues to laugh.

(Ëzaraulthi are witches who dedicate themselves to the benevolent use of magic, focusing on healing, medicine, and protection)

"I could never humor you. I guess you must forgetting that Ëzaraulthi are ones who will protect by any means neccesary, even if it means duelling with her own kind. Something we're all familiar, don't you think?"

"Do not kid yourself Sorëi, you're outnumbered." The emerald eyes hardening towards your mother.

Your mother smirks with a tilt of her head. "You're also forgetting, I'm a part of the Thallörin, as an Aroshëra."

(Thallörin is a governing body that unites the most adept witches from each coven, suggesting a group that possesses profound knowledge and influence within the mystical realms of Astrithian culture, it is pronounced as "Thahl-aw-reen."

Aroshëra term for the most expert healer within the governing body of adept witches, known for their ability to mend both physical and magical wounds, and expertise in protection magic and defense with light magic.)

Veranōthi loses her smile, into a frown. "Fine, have it your way. Your doom is now here."

Suddenly, the tranquil ambiance shattered as a rain of pure iron arrows descended upon your group. Gasps echoed through the air as the witches, including your family, recoiled at the unexpected assault. Iron, a notorious weakness for witches, posed an imminent threat, casting an unsettling shadow over the battlefield.

However, the unexpected twist wasn't limited to the iron arrows. The royal military elite wielded a peculiar device—a compact contraption emitting a high-frequency sound. The resonating waves temporarily immobilized the witches, leaving them vulnerable to the approaching soldiers.

Chaos erupted as the clash unfolded. Your father, despite being human, demonstrated remarkable combat skills, engaging in a dance of blades with the royal military elite. Magic surged through the air as your mother and the remaining witches retaliated, a symphony of spells colliding against the iron-clad attackers.

Veranōthi's commanding voice pierced through the chaos. "They're using iron! Cowards, kill these humans, sisters! Kill them all!"

Amidst the chaos, Veranōthi's eyes bore into your mother's, the weight of years of animosity palpable. "Don't you see, they're finding our weakness and trying to kill us. It's either them or us."

Your mother, undeterred, raised her hands, creating a shimmering barrier that deflected a barrage of magical attacks. "There is strength in mercy, and wisdom in finding common ground. We are all bound by the threads of magic; there must be a way to end this without plunging into the abyss."

Veranōthi scoffed, her expression hardening. "You're naive, Sorëi. Our survival depends on our ability to eradicate those who seek to subjugate us. To show mercy now is to court destruction."

As the battle raged on, you watched your mother, determined to protect both sides from unnecessary casualties, her gaze swept across the battlefield, assessing the toll of the conflict. The witches—albeit wounded, writhed in pain, fueled by desperation and the fear of annihilation, unleashed a torrent of magical prowess, while the air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt magic.

In the distance, your father continued his valiant struggle against the military elite, his combat skills proving formidable, while your mother attempted to reason with Veranōthi.

Unable to ignore the urgency of the situation, your mother's voice rose above the chaos. "Cease this madness! Our powers are formidable, but so is the cost of this unrestrained violence. We can end this conflict without further bloodshed."

Veranōthi, unyielding, countered, "Bloodshed is the language of war, Sorëi. Do not delude yourself into thinking otherwise."

"Even in war, there's room for mercy. We can find a compromise that spares both our kind and theirs."

As the two sides clashed, a surge of magical energy enveloped Veranōthi. She channeled her power, creating dark ethereal tendrils that snaked through the air, seeking to ensnare the military elite. The soldiers, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, struggled against the mystical bonds.

Your mother seized the opportunity, her eyes ablaze with determination. "This is not the path we should tread. There is a choice beyond this carnage."

Veranōthi's response was a defiant laugh, echoing across the battlefield. "Choices are but illusions, Sorëi. We are bound by destiny, and our destiny is to triumph over those who would oppress us."

Just then, a realization dawned upon your mother. The witches, driven by a relentless desire for vengeance, were no longer open to reason. She grappled with the realization that sometimes, the pursuit of peace required confronting the harsh realities of war. The battle had escalated beyond control, and she knew that a more decisive action was necessary to prevent further devastation.

With a focused gaze, your mother directed her magic towards the magical bonds Veranōthi had woven. The dark ethereal tendrils began to unravel, releasing the military elite from their magical restraints. As the soldiers regained their freedom, Veranōthi's expression twisted into a mixture of fury and disbelief.

"You would betray your own kind for these oppressors?" Veranōthi accused, her voice laced with bitterness.

Your mother met Veranōthi's gaze unwaveringly. "I seek not betrayal but understanding. We can coexist without perpetuating this cycle of hatred and violence."

The military elite, now liberated, regrouped with renewed determination. Your father, displaying an astonishing level of prowess, fighting against them. The battleground shifted, no longer a standoff between witches and your family but a united front against the oppressive forces of the royal family.

Veranōthi, unwilling to concede defeat, unleashed a wave of destructive magic. The earth trembled beneath the onslaught, and a torrent of energy surged towards your mother and the allied forces.

With a swift motion, your mother conjured a protective barrier, shielding the group from the impending onslaught. "This ends now, Veranōthi. We can create a world where magic is not a weapon but a force for unity."

The battle raged on, the clash of magic and steel echoing through the night. The air crackled with energy as both sides pushed their limits, each moment carrying the weight of a decision that would shape the future.

As Veranōthi's eyes suddenly glowed with an ominous light, a shiver ran down your spine, and the air seemed to grow heavy with an unsettling energy. Your mother, catching sight of this eerie transformation, couldn't hide the fear that widened her eyes. "Veranōthi, what are you doing!?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern.

"Since you don't want to make the tough decision, I will make it for you. Ëzal vruunithi, kethir shalnith vroha, uzin gathithi," she intones in the archaic Astrithian tongue, her voice distorting with each syllable.

(translation: "I call upon this mother energy, giving me strength")

Your mother's eyes widen in horror as Veranōthi's sinister powers surge, setting her fingertips ablaze with an otherworldly energy. The dark magic courses through her, and with an abrupt turn, her gaze locks onto you. A small figure, cowering behind wooden wagons that offer meager protection from the escalating chaos, suddenly becomes the focal point of Veranōthi's malevolent intent.

Veranōthi's arms weave intricate patterns in the air, casting spells that propel her magic toward you without warning. Time seems to slow as the ethereal bullets of energy hurtle towards your defenseless form.

Unbeknownst to both you and Veranōthi, your mother, fueled by an unyielding maternal love, charges forth in a desperate attempt to shield you from the imminent threat hurtling your way. Recognizing the potent enchantment the moment it escaped Veranōthi's lips, she comprehends the perilous nature of her chosen course.

Blocking may prove futile, and deflecting the dark magic poses its own challenges, so she makes the heart-wrenching decision to absorb the brunt of the attack. As a light magic user, such absorption could prove detrimental, but as your mother, she's willing to make that sacrifice for your survival.

As the seconds dwindled, your mother, defying the constraints of time, positioned herself just in the nick of it. She gestured swiftly, intending to deflect and absorb the magic, but miscalculations led her to absorb the full force of Veranōthi's dark energies. The impact propels her backward, slamming against the wooden wagon before landing roughly in front of you.

In your distress, you find yourself scrambling towards your mother, who lay sprawled before you, battered by the force of the dark incantation.

"Mother!" you wail, your eyes welling up with tears as you approach, desperate to render aid, though the gravity of the situation seems beyond your young capabilities. Making you torn between a desperate desire to help and the harsh reality that there may be little you can do.

Veranōthi's satisfaction lingered in the air, her dark powers momentarily appeased by the release of the potent spell. A triumphant sneer adorned her face as she surveyed the scene. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you beheld your mother's frail form, fading under the weight of her injuries.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream shatters the air. With a sickening twist of your neck, you behold a ghastly scene: your father, battered and bloodied, kneels before two of the royal family's elite soldiers.

One plunges his sword deep into your father's abdomen, the steel emerging slick with crimson. The other, with a cruel gleam in his eye, raises his blade for a decapitating strike. As the blade arcs downward, it meets flesh with a sickening thud, separating your father's head from his body. Blood gushes forth in a grotesque fountain, drenching the ground in a pool of crimson horror.

Your heart raced as despair gripped you, but resolve surged within. Your parents' lives hung in the balance, and you would not allow them to perish without a fight.

In a surge of unknowable power, you bellowed, "Stop!" Dark blue magical energy radiated from within you, slicing through the air like a spectral blade. The arcane force engulfed all in its path—witches and soldiers alike. Those touched by the magic found themselves ensnared by an otherworldly fire, immune to any attempt at extinguishing it, save for the one who had summoned it—none other than you.

Yet, the remaining witches, including the cunning Veranōthi, exhibited a combination of skill and luck. They swiftly conjured a magical barrier, shielding themselves from the lethal flames that devoured their comrades. The unlucky few screamed in agony as they succumbed to the relentless blaze, their demise haunting the air with the stench of burning flesh.

The gruesome spectacle dawned upon Veranōthi with a sudden realization. You, the summoner of this inferno, were the Zalvokraël of their time. A choice loomed before her: to slay you in your vulnerable state as you attempted to tend to your mother or to spare you, recognizing the potential you held—the makings of the most powerful witch. Persuading you to join their cause could prove invaluable, and after a contemplative moment, she chose the latter.

"Sisters, our task here is complete. I sense a group approaching. Let us depart immediately," she commands, and with traces of glowing magic subtly left behind, they vanish into the air.

However, you pay no heed to the burning bodies, your focus solely on your mother. "Mother..." Your voice quivers, tears finally falling from your cheeks.

Her weary but loving eyes met yours, and she managed a gentle lip-smile. "Fear not, my child. I chose this fate to ensure your survival. You must carry on from this point forward."

The air hung heavy with sorrow as you cradled your mother, her life slipping away like grains of sand through your desperate fingers. "I don't know if I can go on without you," you whispered, the weight of the impending loss settling upon your shoulders.

With a weakening hand, she touched your cheek. "You are strong, my love. The power within you, it will guide you. Embrace it, and remember, I will always be a part of you." Her voice wavered but held an underlying strength.

The battlefield lay strewn with the aftermath of the clash, the acrid scent of burning magic permeating the air. As the last embers of the magical fire dwindled, leaving behind scorched remnants, you clung to the fading warmth of your mother's presence.

In the distance, a Quadravicar approached. Your mother's breaths grew shallower, her life force slipping away. "Mother, please, don't leave me," you pleaded, desperation and grief intertwining in your voice.

She drew you closer, her breaths becoming faint whispers. "Listen closely, my child. Your path ahead is uncertain, but within you lies a power that can shape destinies. Find allies, trust in yourself, and remember, love is a force that transcends even the darkest of times."

A solemn silence enveloped the battlefield as your mother's eyes dimmed, her final words echoing in your heart. Then, a distant yet hurried echo of light footsteps resonated through the desolate air, piercing the eerie silence that hung heavy over the charred remnants of a once serene landscape.

"Y/N!" The call reached your ears, a familiar voice cutting through the haunting aftermath of destruction. You recognized it instantly.

"Y/N, where are you?" The urgent cries continued, pulling your attention away from the heart-wrenching scene that surrounded you. Your tear-blurred eyes strained to focus, but you knew those voices belonged to your dearest seven friends. Against all odds, they had returned for you.

"Y/N!" Their collective voices rose, echoing through the night as they desperately scanned the tragic tableau for your presence.

As one of them spotted you, his eyes lit up with joy. "Guys! I found her, she's right there! Y/N!"

Tears of relief mingled with the sorrow streaming down your cheeks as all seven of them sprinted toward you. "Y/N!"

They reached you, their frantic expressions shifting from worry to joy. However, as their eyes fell upon the devastation around you, their elation turned to disbelief. Your mother lay lifeless amidst the charred ruins.

Jungkook and Jimin sank to their knees beside her, shock and despair etched across their faces. They had been the closest to your mother, and the weight of grief bore down on them. "Amahra…"

"I'm sorry," you whispered. It wasn't your fault, yet guilt clung to you like a shadow, a child ensnared in the tragedy and horrors of war.

Namjoon took a deep breath, his eyes welling with tears as he approached you. "It's not your fault, Y/N."

"She tried to save me," you muttered, your lip quivering as you met Namjoon's gaze with tearful eyes. The dam finally broke, and you sobbed, collapsing into Namjoon's comforting embrace.

The rest of them, too, shared in your silent grief. Quiet sobs and sniffles intermingled with the palpable sorrow among you all. They may have considered your parents as their own, and your parents may have embraced them as their own children, but the depth of your grief was incomprehensible to them.

In the midst of the mourning, an air of somber determination settled over Namjoon's features. "We need to leave this place. It's not safe here."

The others nodded in agreement, their expressions grim. Jungkook and Jimin reluctantly tore themselves away from your mother's lifeless form, their eyes swollen with tears. The group huddled together, forming a protective circle around you.

As you clung to Namjoon, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Your home, once a sanctuary, now lay in ruins. The stars overhead bore witness to the tragedy, their distant gleam offering no solace.

Your group moves forward, navigating the desolate landscape with a heavy heart. Moonlight filtered through the sparse clouds, casting an ethereal glow on the devastated world around you.

A/N: thank you for reading! <3333 the main reason i wrote this intro was to give some insight into the kind of character Y/N (you, the reader) will be later in the story, based on the past Y/N suffers from. it also helps to lay the groundwork for future scenes and establish the kind of friendship you have with the boys from the beginning.

drabble masterpost | masterlist | character boards | prologue | part 1 | part 2 [finale] | alternate ending

[ask-elliot-doorman-fam]

Bishops Solver Research. Page 108

Biology and Habits of a Solver Infected Drone.

Subject 1: Uzi Doorman.

Standard Infection. Inherited by genetics. Flesh contained within torso, modified to include lungs, digestive system, organic core protected by ribs, spines unique to specific strain and initially caused by stress.

Drones Infected by the solver share more in common with mammals then a typical worker, with biological imperatives to find a breeding partner, with nesting behavior, pack bonding, and a "haze" described as a compulsion to be close to chosen partner, and general "floatiness".

Note: I have noticed a difference between Cyn-Controlled Solver Drones and those that have been severed from the hivemind due to our increased interaction with drones from other universes.

Those that are still connected to thier version of Cyn/The Solver (Sometimes there's a distinction, other times there is not) do not have the same mammalian urges, they do not form packs, have a desire to mate, nor do they experience "hazes"; unless you count bloodlust as a haze.

This suggests that these are mutations caused by Cyn's absence, the virus acting on it's own to spread itself, (Cyn may have combined multiple genomes to create the desired traits and now the more primitive aspects are no longer blocked by her.) or that another entity is guiding these changes, either consciously or unconsciously.

Subject 2. Tera Doorman.

Nothing about my sister's infection is standard.

Her infection was through infected oil my mother unknowingly fed her, not genetics, as such, her body and the solver within it are not as synergistic as they should be.

She shows all the instinctual changes standard in a cyn-absent infection, but also shows moments of intense bloodlust- a feature usually reserved for the Solver-Controlled subset.

The flesh inside her body is massively overgrown. Woven through her limbs, her fingers, even her head has modifications, with matter resembling human brain tissue.

Her stomach is enlarged, as is her core, which is so padded with tough, thick tissue that it can withstand impossibly hot temperatures, or, of course, any external damage. (The only way to destroy it would be to crush it with an astronomical amout of force, best bet? A planet imploding.)

That is to say nothing of the draconian form.

I wish I was joking. Tera's solver is so overactive it has gathered enough material to completely incase her in flesh, which then can be shifted into any form. Though she seems to be subconsciously choosing a dragon, why I'm not sure, but it does the trick in both protection and intimidation.

Of course. Her healing factor is diminished greatly because of this overactive growth of her core and surrounding flesh witch is what causes her scarring and pain. To fix the problem, the solution would be, upsettingly, to remove her from her robotic chassis, and allow the solver flesh to form a new body without the confines, though I'm not sure if every part of her personality would remain whole...

Don't tell her that, she won't take it well.

She is an anomaly. We are all lucky that she is who she is, otherwise?

Cyn would have seemed like an insect.