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WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]
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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
![WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c187a7b451e82b4c1573f1357398425d/3896de931ed038a0-38/s500x750/e5e383777b8d4c3e7d6223acd3f4c76fc623f410.png)
*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*
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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.
![WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7caa5c3aff622ad6b2f39136f52efd5b/3896de931ed038a0-3c/s500x750/712bb401492dcaffe30f6f8c4633d03e8e94e596.png)
"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.
![WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4715b68eb0319444cf84bc6c6b599275/3896de931ed038a0-9c/s500x750/12367925d6af39fe351cf2c191c0344ef8b25cdd.png)
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
YOU CAN READ WITCH'S REFUGE NOW!! Part 2 + Alternate Ending will be released in the near future. And don't worry, I also working on the updates of my other ongoing works (Touch and Schlimazel) Unfortunately, I had to restart my draft for Ya'aburnee, but have no fear, I am also working on as we speak—in the meantime, please enjoy this new release <333
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
![WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c187a7b451e82b4c1573f1357398425d/3896de931ed038a0-38/s500x750/e5e383777b8d4c3e7d6223acd3f4c76fc623f410.png)
*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.
![WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7caa5c3aff622ad6b2f39136f52efd5b/3896de931ed038a0-3c/s500x750/712bb401492dcaffe30f6f8c4633d03e8e94e596.png)
"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.
![WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4715b68eb0319444cf84bc6c6b599275/3896de931ed038a0-9c/s500x750/12367925d6af39fe351cf2c191c0344ef8b25cdd.png)
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
OMG OMG OMG IT'S SO GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK!!!
I can't get enough of this story. Every part is just arghhhhh so addictive and heartbreaking and I want to hug this main character so so hard 😭😭😭 Just take my heart already, it's too much 💔
(Un)natural Instincts (Part 12)
*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, drugs, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: discussions around SA triggers (mainly boundary setting, not angsty), one brief mention of a gunshot, gunshot wound, fear of punishments, hints to street crime violence, vague hints to smut
____
Hoseok watches as Taehyung gets lost in the painting, fascinated by how he repeatedly goes back and fixes each detail. It’s endearing, watching him bite his bottom lip in concentration.
“What’s that stuff you’re adding to the paint?”
“Poppyseed oil. It makes the paint dry slower.”
“You want it to dry slower?”
The younger one nods, “This way I can retouch whatever needs to be fixed without worrying about it drying.”
He hands his hyung the brush in his hand, which Hoseok swirls into the paint thinner before handing back clean.
“I didn’t know you could add stuff to the paint like that.”
“They’re called mediums. There's fast-drying ones too, which I’ll be using for the clothes and hair since I want to work in lots of separate layers for those.”
“This is already all too complicated for me.” Hoseok laughs, preferring to mindlessly watch the paint go down than think about drying times and layers.
Taehyung laughs, leaning in to give his hyung a peck on the cheek.
Jimin walks in at the exact time, smiling fondly at the scene. He brings in a platter of freshly cut fruit, most of which are Taehyung’s favorites.
“Fruit delivery!”
Hoseok brings the boy close, holding him by the waist as he opens his mouth for a piece. Taehyung follows, stopping his brushwork to be fed.
“How much longer until the painting’s done?” Jimin asks while popping a cut strawberry into the younger wolf’s mouth.
Taehyung holds up three fingers, mouth too distracted by the sweet fruit to speak.
“Three days?”
He nods.
“So three more days until you stop cooping up in here and pay more attention to me,” Jimin pouts.
“Are you actually getting jealous of Y/N’s late grandmother?” Taehyung teases, causing Hoseok to almost choke on a grape laughing.
It’s the sound again. The sound of Hoseok laughing. He seems completely oblivious as to how much it affects his packmates—how much love it fills in their hearts.
___
Jin reaches for Namjoon’s hand, attempting to soothe the worried wolf as they both wait for Jungkook to come out from his bath.
This isn’t going to be easy.
Joon says with furrowed brows alone.
He’s going to hate this.
Jin agrees with a light squeeze to his packmate’s fingers.
It wouldn’t be hard to convince an outsider that Jin and Namjoon can, in fact, read each other’s minds. Wouldn’t take much convincing at all, with how well the two communicate with just looks. But there’s no mind-reading abilities at play, just years of understanding each other.
They were the first two members of the pack, after all.
Namjoon still remembers the goosebumps on his arms when he first met Jin—it was the first time he’d ever felt the pull of a pack bond. A rush of adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine all creating a buzzing cocktail in his body when the older wolf smiled his way.
Jin wasn’t innocent either, he knew he was riling the usually-poised Alpha up the second he looked at him. It was a fun game, teasing and taunting the big bad wolf until he was taught a lesson behind some shabby hybrid bar neither of them remember the name of anymore.
Namjoon's mind wanders back to that night, amused at the idea of telling his younger self that he’d be starting his forever family with that gorgeous man he met in a rundown dive bar—that four more wonderful hybrids would walk into their life and make them complete.
He doesn’t think he’d tell his younger version about the lab. He wouldn’t want to know.
The bathroom door opens, and both pairs of wolf eyes focus in on the youngest.
“Hey Koo” Jin says in his sweetest tone.
Jungkook flashes a toothy grin to his packmates, shuffling over to give both a chaste kiss on the lips.
“We were actually waiting for you pup, wanted to talk to you about something.”
Namjoon’s solemn tone isn’t lost on the wolf, putting him on edge as he takes his place opposite them on the bed.
“Is something wrong?” His eyes nervously dart between the two older ones.
Jin decides to take the lead, going in with as much tact as possible.
“First of all, we just want to say how happy we are that the hormones effects are wearing off on you. It’s great seeing you be yourself again...”
Namjoon jumps in, feeling Jin’s nervousness take over, “…but we do have to be mindful of our situation pup. Pushing away y/n isn’t going to do us any favors here.”
“Or Yoongi.” Jin adds.
Jungkook almost rolls his eyes, but he manages to hold back.
“I’ll behave.” He grits out halfheartedly.
“I’m going to need you to be more convincing than that Koo.”
The wolf glares at his Alpha, a sign of defiance Namjoon is not in the mood to entertain.
“Stop being bratty before I spank it out of you pup.”
Jungkook’s gaze changes in an instant. The challenging glint in his eyes is replaced with something far more devastating—hurt. Jin’s hands reach for Namjoon’s shoulder, pulling him back before the situation escalates even more.
“Why stop at a spanking? Might as well put the Obedience collar back on so you can have the docile and well behaved pup you want so badly.”
He doesn’t wait to be dismissed, almost running out of the room before the other two can see his glossy eyes.
Jin lets out a dejected sigh, “You shouldn’t have brought up punishment baby.”
Namjoon knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it was already too late then.
“I-I know…it was just instinct.” Guilt overtakes his features, regretting not thinking twice before speaking.
The moment Jungkook looked at him with that defiant stare, he couldn’t help but respond in the way he had a thousand times before the lab. Back when punishments were just a tool for an Alpha to reign in a bratty wolf—not synonymous with physical and psychological torture.
He knows he can’t discipline his pack the way other Alphas do anymore, not when they’ve had enough punishments to last three lifetimes.
Jin tugs on the younger wolf’s sleeve, pulling him back to Earth, “Go apologize and make it up to him.”
“What if he wants space from me?”
“We’re talking about Jungkook here, your clingiest pup.”
Jin isn’t wrong. Jungkook isn’t the type to want to be left alone when he’s upset.
Namjoon follows the scent trail carefully, grimacing at the smell of salt mixed into Jungkook’s signature vanilla. Salt meant tears, and tears meant his pup was cooping himself up in some corner and sobbing. It doesn’t take the Alpha long to find which corner exactly, as the not-so-small wolf can’t exactly hide behind a dresser the way he thinks he can. But that doesn’t stop him from trying—bundled up with his knees to his chest in one of the spare bedrooms.
“Koo, sweetheart…” He keeps his voice soft.
Jungkook simply sniffles in response, not daring to look up with the wet streaks on his face. If this was Taehyung or Jimin, he’d have heard a “go away” by now. But not his Koo. Despite his willful attitude, there’s nothing Jungkook wants more than to be babied when he’s crying.
Namjoon cautiously sits in front of the boy, leaving space to keep their bodies from touching.
“Hey pup, can you look at me please.”
With his face still buried in his knees, the wolf simply shakes his head in refusal.
“I’m sorry about what I said Koo. I shouldn’t have brought up punishment…and the last thing I want is for you—or anyone—to be on those drugs again.”
“You’re lying.” Jungkook finally raises his head, eyes watery and puffy, “I was easier to deal with when I had the collar on. I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it. Hell, even I wish I could turn off all these thoughts and just behave. But I can’t…that’s not me.” His voice breaks towards the end, sobs threatening to spill from his throat.
Panic flashes on Namjoon’s face, composed demeanor becoming harder to maintain as Jungkook lays all his insecurities bare. There’s a quiet rage bubbling in his stomach—pointed a little at Kang but mainly at himself. Rage for letting Jungkook’s self esteem get to this point.
He knew from the day that Jungkook came into their lives that he’d need to be extra careful with him. Unlike the others, who jumped eagerly into his arms at the promise of a pack bond, his youngest pup was nothing but stand offish and distrustful for months.
It’s not hard to see how little love Jungkook has known prior to the pack, but things aren’t supposed to be like that anymore. Namjoon knows it’s naïve to think that all of Jungkook’s scars would be healed by now—knowing just how many he has—but wishful thinking got the better of him.
The boy in front of him looks just as insecure as he did when they first met. Except he’s not hiding it with sarcastic remarks and cold stares anymore…at least not to his packmates.
Namjoon makes sure to not let his frustration show in his words, needing to be as calm as possible to not spook the distressed boy.
“But this you is the one we fell in love with baby, how could we ever prefer any other version over it? I’ll admit you’re not the easiest pup from time to time, but I’d rather you be the most difficult wolf in the world than put that collar back on you.”
“Then why do you keep taking y/n’s side? She wants me back on the collar. I can tell. Wants me to be the sweet sweet angel they brainwashed me into being.”
“She doesn’t want you on the collar either Koo, she just doesn’t know this version of you…and you aren’t exactly letting her in either—which I know is hard for you, I understand it’s asking a lot, but I’m not doing this because I’m taking her side. I just think we have an actual shot of being happy here. You trust me, don’t you baby?”
Jungkook nods. No matter how upset he is, it’s instinct to nod when Namjoon asks that question. Of course he trusts his Alpha. He’d follow Namjoon to the ends of the world if he asked him to.
“I…I’ll try. But please…d-don’t punish me if I c-can’t.” The last part is whispered, as if it’s a shameful declaration. It is, to some extent, shameful for Jungkook to admit—that he shivers at the mention of the tamest punishments now.
Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach at the helpless bundle of nerves in front of him.
“I won’t baby. I promise. Will you please come to me?”
Jungkook doesn’t waste time to scoot his way over, making himself small as he seeks safety in Namjoon’s embrace. Namjoon breathes a bit lighter, relieved at Jungkook’s lack of hesitation—the last thing he wants is his pup to be wary of him.
___
Hoseok looks over from one brunette to the other, both fidgeting as they try to find their words.
“What is it pups?”
Jimin clears his throat, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s arm before speaking up.
“Um..we just wanted to ask…” no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the words out, “it’s nothing hyung! Forget about it.”
Taehyung, although disappointed, follows in understanding. The two are ready to retreat, but their hyung isn’t having any of that.
“Wait!” their hyung pouts, not wanting to be left out, “whatever it is, you can ask me.”
“It’s selfish” Taehyung takes the words out of Jimin’s mouth.
Hoseok raises a brow, waiting for further explanation only to be met with an awkward silence.
“Since when have you two ever thought twice before asking me for things?”
It’s true. They normally didn’t hesitate to ask their Hobi hyung for whatever they wanted. Why would they? He was their hyung and they were his precious pups to spoil.
But this wasn’t a normal situation.
“Whatever it is, I won’t get mad. You know I never get mad at you guys.”
Jimin wishes Hobi didn’t add that part, as it only makes him feel more gross in the moment,
“Fuck, I can’t do it. Please, let’s all drop this.”
Hoseok, however, isn’t ready to drop the subject.
“What could it possibly be that you’re so scare—” he stops as soon as the realization hits.
Truthfully, he’s been preparing for this conversation. With everyone else going back to normal, Hoseok knew it was just a matter of time before intimacy would come back into the equation for the rest of them.
“Oh pups, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine, really.”
Jimin raises a brow, wanting to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Hoseok continues on, assuring them that he isn’t misunderstanding the situation.
“If we’re being completely honest, I’m still not comfortable with the topic. There’s still a lot I need to work through to handle triggers around it, but whatever anyone else does is fine as long as I’m not asked to be part of it.”
“A-are you sure? With you tuning into your hybrid he—”
“I don’t tune in to anything in the house. Really guys, it’s fine! The only thing that’ll make me feel bad is if you hold yourselves back because of me.”
“We don’t want you just saying that for our sake hyung.”
Hoseok shakes his head with surety, “I’m not. As long as it’s away from me, I don’t mind.”
He punctuates with a smile, ruffling Tae’s hair to lighten the mood. It works on Taehyung, but Jimin’s brows are still furrowed.
“What about during our heats? Will you be okay next month?”
“I’ve talked to Y/N and Yoongi about it already. I’ll be staying with them at Yoongi’s place, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, I’m telling you that I’m more than okay. Please don’t walk on eggshells around me.”
Jimin nods, deciding it best to trust his hyung’s judgement. Hoseok knows what’s best for himself, and it’s not Jimin’s place to decide what should and shouldn’t bother the older wolf.
___
You take a step back, huffing at your sixth failed attempt before diving back in.
You’re Shin Y/N.
You’ve made businessmen shake in their boots at the sound of your heels clicking. You’ve revived dying companies with one meeting. So why can’t you move this pesky little bookshelf to the other side of your office?
It’s been over fifteen minutes, and you can’t get the thing to budge at all. However, if it’s one thing you are, it’s stubborn. So you close your eyes and focus all your energy on pushing. To your surprise, the wooden shelf actually starts sliding this time. Ecstatic, you open your eyes to navigate the room--only to be met with the last sight you’re expecting to see.
It’s Jungkook, covered head to toe in black, with a detached expression you can’t quite read. He nonchalantly drags the piece of furniture, waiting for you to tell him where to stop.
“Right there is fine.”
He props it next to the standing lamp, making sure it’s flush against the wall before letting go.
“Thank you.” You want to say more, but you’re afraid of saying something wrong.
“Whatever.” He stuffs his fists in his hoodie before heading towards the door.
“Wait!” You panic, realizing you said that out loud. You don’t want him to leave but have no clue what to say next. Instinctively, you say the first thing that comes to your mind.
“You’ve been wearing that hoodie a lot…I can buy you more if you like—”
“No thank you.”
Your shoulders shrink. You know it’s not right, but throwing money at your problems has worked out pretty well for you thus far. Not to mention, it’s a lot easier than being emotionally vulnerable. But if money wasn’t going to solve this, your hand’s been forced to try the other way.
“I miss you.”
The words hang heavy in the air, with your fear of being rejected growing by the minute.
The wolf simply scoffs.
“Miss me? You mean you miss having a little pet following all your commands.”
You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of Namjoon’s words to keep composure.
Relax. Jungkook’s a bit difficult to win over, but it’s not impossible. He’s still a sweetheart once he lets you in—really lets you in, without the drugs making him.
Drugs or no drugs, you’ve seen the way he looks at his Alpha with stars in his eyes, or the way he pouts to his Jin hyung when he wants something. Despite the cold front he’s put up with you, he’s as warm as ever to his packmates. There’s still hope as long as you keep trying.
“That’s not true, Jungkook. You can’t just decide what I’ve been feeling and make your judgements based on that. It’s not fair.”
He narrows his eyes, bringing his arms up across his chest in a defensive stance.
“You can’t miss what you’ve never known.”
“I miss you telling me your favorite parts of the shows you’ve watched…or ranking the snacks in the pantry…or just coming by to tell me about your day. Was all of that really just the drugs? Would the real you really be so miserable hanging out with me? Do you hate me that much?”
You try to hold it back, but your eyes start watering right as you say the last sentence. Luckily, no tears spill.
Jungkook is taken aback nonetheless, not expecting the answer he got. His eyes soften up ever so slightly, but not enough to douse the fire of unease you’re burning under.
“I don’t hate you,” he huffs, playing with where his hands meet inside the hoodie instead of meeting your gaze, “and I like living here. But I’m not going to wait for you at the door like a little puppy anymore. And I’m not going to expect you to treat me like my packmates do. You’re not a part of our pack.”
He’s not giving you a lot, but you’re grasping tight at the little assurance he does give. For now, a “I don’t hate you” seems like the best thing you’re going to get from him—and you’re not in any position to complain.
“I understand!” This time, you seem like the lost little puppy, wagging your tail for any approval you can get, “I’m not trying to impose on your pack. I know it’s not my place. I just…want to be friends? Whenever you’re ready to consider me one, I’ll be here.”
You don’t give him any time to respond, as the tears threatening to spill down have you brushing past before the hybrid fully processes what just happened.
Friend.
Somewhere between packmate and total stranger.
Jungkook’s never had a real one before.
He’d never had friends or family before the pack. Just an abandoned stray moving from one back alley to the next. The last time someone asked him to be “friends” was a couple months after he’d just turned eighteen—a wealthy Alpha looking for a fighter to make money off of. He’d agreed, desperate to get off the streets. It wasn’t a bad gig, but it didn’t exactly leave him feeling good either.
Days of nonstop practicing, and nights of nonstop fighting, all so his “friend” could squeeze every last dollar from the matches.
The other fighters didn’t want anything to do with him, with his constant wins getting on everyone else’s nerves. And everyone else in town didn’t want anything to do with him either, with his bloodied and bruised appearance not doing any favors. He got used to the routine—accepted that real friends weren’t in his cards, and that there was probably no pack waiting for him. A true lone wolf.
And he would’ve lived his entire life that way if his last opponent wasn’t such a sore loser. Well, specifically, if his sponsor wasn’t such a sore loser. He still flinches at the memory of being chased down those alleys, hearing gunshots followed by car alarms and shattering glass. It was ten on one, with half of them being wolves he’d defeated in the ring—all working to get their sponsor his money back.
He’d barely managed to escape, gripping where a bullet wound grazed his bloody leg, as he ran without looking back. He only stopped running when the adrenaline couldn’t keep him going any longer, finding himself lost in a neighboring town when his knees finally gave in.
That’s the first time he met Jimin and Taehyung, fingers interlocked and lost in each other’s company. They would’ve missed him if the streetlamp had fully gone out, but thankfully, the little flicker in the night was enough for Jimin’s eyes to meet that of the injured wolf.
If he wasn’t in searing pain, he would’ve felt the pull of the pack bond right when the other two did. But he couldn’t feel anything other than where the bullet ever-so-slightly missed, causing him to kick and scream the entire time the wolves tried to help.
“Relax, please relax. We need to stop the bleeding. What’s your name?”
“Get the fuck away from me. I swear to God I’ll break your bones if you keep touching me.”
Saying he was difficult is an understatement, but the two managed to pin him down just long enough to give emergency first aid.
That was the beginning of the long and messy road to adjusting Jungkook to the pack, navigating his hot temper and short fuse as the rest assured him the pull wasn’t temporary—that this pack, this family, would embrace him with enough love and tenderness to make up for all the years he’d been alone.
To you, to everyone outside, this Jungkook might seem difficult…but only he and his pack know just how gentle he is compared to his old self.
But the idea of this not being enough—of having to compete with the docile imitation of himself that the hormones made him—it was terrifying.
You said you wanted to be friends, but could anyone not bound by a pack bond truly accept Jungkook for the way he is? When there’s really nothing in it for them?
That’s never happened before.
____
A/N: It's good to be back!!!
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