#Royal Alloy

[randomlypix]

Royal Alloy motorbikes at the 2023 Bangkok Motor Expo

[ladysbike]

世界のプレミアム・モーターサイクル／スクーターの中でも“楽しさ”と“デザイン”を満たせる“本当に遊べる”モノにこだわり、e-Bikeも含めて日本に紹介を続けているモータリスト。その取扱車両を試乗できるチャンスが用意されたので、同社取扱車両に興味のある人はぜひとも足を運ぶべし♡

https://www.l-bike.com/topics/40316/

[bandcampsnoop]

9/23/23.

Tube Alloys' Bandcamp page states their affinity for Swell Maps, Wire and This Heat. Of course that made my brain snap to attention.

After listening to the whole album, I wholeheartedly agree with those comparisons. It made me realize how much of a debt Total Control owes to those bands as well.

Tube Alloys are a Los Angeles based band that sound 2010s era Australia - Low Life, Witch Hats and Royal Headache (with much less soulful singing) all come to mind.

So, it should come as no surprise to learn that the LP is being released by Sydney-based label Urge Records.

[msb-lair]

Clutch #3196 - Vee/Yee

Mated On: 2023-04-19 # of eggs: 1 Hatched On: 2023-04-24

Progeny:

Hatchling 8451 (Glowfly) - Aether Male, Obsidian Bar/Forest Alloy/Royal Monarch, Common - 60 gems on 2023-05-13

Comments:

[motogadi]

Revving up the Roads: Royal Enfield Unleashes the All-New Continental GT 650 with Alloy Wheels and LED Headlight!

Rev your engines and get ready to hit the road in style with the latest offering from Royal Enfield - the Continental GT with alloy wheels and LED headlights! #RoyalEnfield #ContinentalGT #AlloyWheels #LEDHeadlights #RideInStyle

Royal Enfield Continental GT with alloys is priced at Rs 3.19 lakh. The much-anticipated 2023 Continental GT 650 motorcycle has been launched in India for Rs 3.19 lakh (ex-showroom). The most recent iteration of the motorcycle now includes much-needed new features to keep up with the times. In terms of pricing, the top-spec chrome 2023 Royal Enfield Continental GT 650 motorcycle is priced at Rs…

[intplayboy]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

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

word count: 8,942

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

********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hoseok!” Hobi’s mother scolded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The border of Auraventia.

His eyes widened. "Wait!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Absolutely not," Namjoon's father affirmed.

"Father!" Namjoon exclaimed in defiance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cassettesocialism]

RKF-C/09 Tagetes Fusilier

The Tagetes is the backbone of the Baronic Unified Command. Noble or not, every cadet earns their chevrons in the chair of one of these bastards. The retrofitted version you're looking at doesn't deviate much from the old standby. It's got an uparmor package with a new alloy mix that the Royal Foundry boys cooked up (top secret!). Combined with reinforced joints means that it can take a real beating and keep ticking. Just don't expect it to be doing the two-step anytime soon.

This Tagetes is a Fusilier, squad marksman version. Sensor suite's been retooled, derived from interferometry suites yanked off frigates and downscaled. Don't know what black magic the eggheads had to conjure to fit them into the chassis, but you won't find a better fire control and target acquisition system anywhere else.

Fusilier's standard issue weapon is the Hesse-Kovan Heavy Industries made HvC-125 Precision Assault Cannon. A reliable and imminently accurate system, it'll sling a 125mm through a target two kilos away, no problem. HcVs take all kinds of solid state ammo to boot, sabot, squashhead, plasma-jacketed, even loitering munitions. Won't fire energetic munitions though, barrel deforms too easily under heat stress. However, H&K is working on a version that'll accept linear accelerators mods or nuclear shaped charge ammunition, expect it by the end of next Standard year. -Quartermaster Sergeant Emilie Levallier, inventory memo Art by the fantastic EM Fields, catch em on twitter at: https://twitter.com/EMFields_Art

[buzzkillchainsaw]

I've gotten a huge influx of followers who found me through my old wof art, so as a treat y'all get to vote on which of my dusty 2+ year old storylines I should revisit again:

Voting one doesn't mean I'll never make content for the others again, I just don't have the time or energy at the moment to focus on multiple things at once due to my full time job...

[mensfactory]

The last Mulsanne !

The last Mulsanne was commissioned by, and built for, Her late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, and includes a range of bespoke features to ensure the car was fit for royal duties. The starting point was an exterior in solid Barnato green, paired with an interior in Twine and Cumbrian hide, Burr Walnut wood veneers and deep lambswool carpets.

To this, the specification added rear privacy curtains and the Royal coat of arms of the United Kingdom inlaid into the door waistrails, while the front centre armrests were removed in lieu of a custom-sized tray to accommodate the Queen’s handbag. Discretely concealed blue police lights, a siren and a bullhorn were also installed, with a dedicated switch panel hidden beneath a walnut-veneered door behind the gear lever.

Bentley’s iconic 394kW 6.75-litre V8 engine, 21” alloy wheels and chrome brightware for the grille and front wing vents and the iconic Flying B complete the car, which will be retained as the third and final Mulsanne in Bentley’s Heritage Collection.

It will join the second Mulsanne ever built, VIN 0002 from 2010, and a 2019 Mulsanne Speed that previously saw service on Bentley’s press fleet.

The three Mulsannes are part of an expanded 45-car Collection, 2.5 years into a three-year programme to completely rebuild a family of cars that together explain and describe Bentley’s 104-year history.

[mindblowingscience]

Scientists in China have unearthed a never-before-seen type of ore that contains a rare earth element sought after for its superconductive properties.  The ore, dubbed niobobaotite, is made of niobium, barium, titanium, iron and chloride, the South China Morning Post reported.  It's the niobium that is causing excitement: This light-gray metal is currently used mostly in the production of steel, which it strengthens without adding significant weight. Niobium is also used in making other alloys (materials made of mixes of metals) and can be found in particle accelerators and other advanced scientific equipment because it is a superconductor at low temperatures, according to the Royal Society of Chemistry. The deposit was found in the Bayan Obo ore deposit in the city of Baotou in Inner Mongolia on Oct. 3. The brownish-black ore is the 17th new type found in the deposit and one of 150 new minerals found in the region, according to the China National Nuclear Corporation (CNNC).

Continue Reading.

[reddpenn]

Oh, right, I never posted these!  Here are the rocks I acquired at my last rock show!

This big sparkly girl with the bottle green, glassy appearance is vivianite, a rock which is just as fragile as it looks!  Vivianite has some really cool properties.  It begins as a colorless mineral, but as soon as it’s exposed to light, it undergoes a chemical reaction that turns it this blue-green color.  As long as it’s exposed to light, this chemical reaction will continue, and the crystals will turn darker and darker until they’re completely black.  Another cool thing about vivianite is that it exhibits pleochroism, meaning the crystals look more green or more blue depending on the angle you view them at.

This funky-shaped sparkly girl is a scepter quartz!  Scepter quartz occurs when a younger crystal begins growing on the tip of an older one, resulting in a big crystal perched atop a skinny one, like the jewel atop a scepter!  This scepter is a smoky amethyst with some really cool stuff going on inside.  My favorite detail is those red spots, which are caused by needle-like crystals of hematite growing inside the quartz!

This is the third meteorite to join my collection!  This piece fell to Earth about four to five thousand years ago in northern Argentina.  Its melted appearance is because the heat of entering Earth’s atmosphere actually caused it to melt!  Campo del Cielo meteorites are iron-nickel meteorites, made from a metal alloy called meteoric iron.  (Ok, so, not to go off on a tangent but meteoric iron is really cool stuff, historically.  See, iron doesn’t occur on planet Earth in its native, metallic form.  It’s always bound up in ores and has to be processed.  But native iron does occur in the vacuum of space, and sometimes that iron falls to Earth as meteors, so the only iron that Bronze Age people had access to before the advent of iron smelting was from meteors.  They made some really cool stuff with it.  Did you know that Tutankhamen was buried with a dagger made from meteoric iron?)

This fossil boy is a slab of turritella agate!  It comes from a fossil deposit in Wyoming called the Green River Formation.  Those white shapes are the fossilized shells of turritella sea snails encased in chert.  These shells were once buried at the bottom of an ancient ocean!  Because of the cool patterns their cross sections make, turritella slabs like this one are used by lapidary artists to cut cabochons for jewelry.

Speaking of cool agates, here’s a neat little fire agate!  This piece came from the southwestern United States.  That metallic, rainbow iridescence (or “fire”) is caused by alternating layers of goethite and limonite, which form as botryoidal bubbles encased in translucent chalcedony.  Fire agate is one of the coolest forms of agate, because it’s so incredibly rare!  The only place in the world where it’s found is an area from central Mexico up through California and Arizona, where it was formed during ancient volcanic activity.

Here’s another cool agate!  This is Aztec purple lace agate, which comes from Mexico.  I don’t think they’re mining it out anymore (actually, it hasn’t been mined for a long time), so this is pretty scarce stuff!  It doesn’t photograph well, so trust me when I say that this piece is much purpler in person.  Other than that, I don’t know much about it!

Also very purple and also from Mexico is this Coyamito agate!  Note the super cool hexagon shape.  Coyamito agate is known for its pseudomorph formations: it replaces other minerals and grows in their shape.  That’s rare in agate, but super common in the Coyamito agate deposit!  In this case, the agate was growing in the hollow left behind by a hexagonal crystal.

Here’s something I’ve been wanting to add to my collection for a long time!  This dignified boy is royal imperial jasper, possibly my absolute favorite kind of jasper. (And unlike most of the rocks the crystal healing crowd likes to slap the word “jasper” on, he’s actually a real jasper!)  We’re seeing in cross-section what’s known as an “egg” formation, the result of a jasper nodule which started small and then grew outward in uneven layers.  Changes in the environment during the formation of each layer resulted in all these different colors!  This piece is also from Mexico.

And finally (drumroll please), it’s time for opals!  As is tradition, I came home from the show with three brand new Ethiopian opals.  Here they are!

Opal number one!  Beautiful!  Subtle and refined!  10/10!

Opal number two!  Stunning!  A style all her own!  Her birthmarks really add warmth and color to the overall presentation.

Opal number three, the Big Girl.  Gorgeous!  Full of fireworks!  What a wonderful sparkly girl!

[israaverse]

First pass at Aedlyn and his armor.

The first pose is a map of his scars. 1-2 are from attempted assassinations on the battlefield, 3 is from being gored on a hunt (never again), 4 is from nearly degloving his knee on a stony riverbed, and 5 is from being caught in a human snare trap in his younger years.

In the third outfit he wears a brat, a type of robe with a usually woolen fringe worn by the nobility of Ireland, but as he is a prince of the Aes Sídhe he can much afford a pristine fur fringe to contrast the rich red of the cloak. He sports the colors of the royal Ua'Cruachan house: white, red, and black, and has the insignia of a snake impaled on a sword on his right pauldron. The construction of his white steel armor is reminiscent of the leaves of the holly bush. His greatsword, pictured above him, is of a meteoric alloy and is much lighter and more maneuverable as a result.

[gizmoforge]

✨Fire Emblem: Awakening ✨

Stainless Steel pendants - free shipping in 🇺🇸 ☺️

[startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs]

Spirk Recommended Fic Masterlist

James Tiberius Kirk x S'chn T'gai Spock (A.K.A The Space Husbands)

Key:

❤️‍🔥 - Smut

☁️ - Fluff

💢 - Angst

🍬 - Sweet

📚 - Multi-Chapter

You and I by  @krazzeeaj1701 (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Despite what they've both told themselves for years, Jayme and Spock can't actually live without each other. Or, the one where Spock left more than just Vulcan behind after that meeting.

Papers in the Roadside by @kianspo  (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬

Non-Starfleet AU. Jim owns a small bar in Chicago, keeps on picking up strays and taking care of everyone no matter how hard it makes his own life. Spock is a journalist writing feature articles for the Chicago Tribune; he depicts the world with uncanny skill, but hides more than one personal drama and is possibly under surveillance from the Vulcan royal family. They meet by accident just before their lives start to spin out of control.

Veritas by theproblematique (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Captain James T. Kirk and Lieutenant Commander Spock are hereby charged with negligence and wanton misconduct due to their emotional compromise with each other.

Leave No Soul Behind by whochick (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

If you're Starfleet, you spend your whole life wishing you never see an EPAS uniform right up until the moment they become your only hope. Whether you're dying a slow, cold death in space, or a long painful one on some godforsaken planet, they're going to come for you. So count your last breaths, son, and hold on tight. They leave no soul behind.

Bluebird by @waldorph (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬

“Jim Kirk.” Jim whipped around so fast most of his drink ended up on Spock, who was reaching for the phaser that wasn’t there. The Enterprise crew was parting like the biblical seas before Moses, and Jim could feel the temperature dropping. “Mom,” Jim croaked.

Measure of Happiness by @writeonclara (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

When Spock chose Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy, he had not anticipated cohabiting with the most illogical, irrational, emotional human he ever met.

On the flip side, Jim never asked for a Vulcan chaperone, especially one as snotty as Spock, son of Sarek.

A Starfleet Academy AU in which Spock adapts to human life, Jim learns very, very quickly never to play a prank on a Vulcan, and there are far too many people after Jim Kirk's life.

AT THE SAME STARS by spicyshimmy (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

First Officer Spock of the USS Enterprise is part of the away team that discovers the survivors of Tarsus IV. Captain Pike assigns him to the curious case of James Tiberius Kirk, who steals one of Spock's sweaters. There were no sufficient Vulcan poetics to describe the emptiness of the colony as it was found on the morning of stardate 2249.43. The fully-completed residential sector was neither ugly nor beautiful but simply remote; a hollow landscape of metal alloys and sensible architecture, with determined vegetation growing alongside the support beams. They did not flower.

cast out fear by @s0mmerspr0ssen (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Kirk saves Vulcan from Nero at high cost to himself. It falls to Spock to pick up the pieces.

Something Smart to Do by @kianspo (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬

In which Jim finds himself fake-married to his first officer every other month. It's not his fault. Mostly. Dowries and Klingons are involved. Starfleet is decidedly not amused.

Atlas by @distractedkat (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning.

A novel-length continuation of the 2009 movie told in four parts. Cross-posted from FFN.

West of the Moon by @distractedkat (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

They meet Jim in phases, and through him find each other. Once the layers begin to peel back, though, the future bridge crew of the Enterprise finds more than they ever could have dreamed. When the fight to keep him starts in earnest, the cadets and officers of Starfleet begin to learn that not all wars can be won.

Because long before he had friends, Jim had Family, and the Scaretta crime syndicate didn't survive to the 23rd century by letting go of its own.

Jim Kirk will always be a frustration to Spock--even when that's not his name.

a sequence that you never learned by annataylor (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

"'Spock,' Jim breathes out, completely overwhelmed by the gesture—not quite believing that Spock knows him so well, that's he's already started researching, that he trusts Jim with a member of his own endangered species."

When Jim gets it in his head to adopt an eight year old Vulcan, Spock presents a logical solution to the issue of Jim's humanity: marriage to a Vulcan citizen.

The Genetic Soap Opera (or, One of the Less Dignified Royal Weddings) by waketosleep (AO3) ☁️ 🍬

Turns out Jim Kirk's more than meets the eye, genetically speaking. There are a lot of consequences, mostly for Spock and his sanity.

Treasures by @yeaka (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 🍬 📚

Sometimes the other Vulcans wonder how Spock managed to obtain such an exotic bondmate, and sometimes Spock wonders himself.

Helloooo, Nurse! by @lalazeewrites (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬

Jim Kirk is the only male nurse on the Enterprise. He’s also the only one with any experience with Vulcan biology. You can guess who he’s been assigned to.

Antigravity by sinestrated (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬

Five times Spock was surprised by the brilliance of Kirk's mind, and one time he totally saw it coming.

Please don't touch the Vulcans by @museaway (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬

The "yes" is out of Jim's mouth before he can think about it.

master of a nothing place by strzyga (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬

Jim wakes as the birds fall silent. Beside him, Spock is still asleep, eyes twitching beneath the lids. His eyelashes are thick and dark against his cheekbones, and there is the faintest green flush to his skin, delicate like the flesh of a melon. Jim's breath hitches. Heat washes over his skin. He'd always noticed, academically, that Spock was attractive. This is different. He knows what Spock's dick feels like, knows how the blanket of dark fur on his chest feels when it scrapes against Jim's back.

Things will never be the same. He has already been irrevocably transformed.

Miscommunication by sinestrated (AO3) ☁️ 🍬

Jim's brain gets scrambled during an away mission gone wrong, with interesting results.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours) by @kianspo (AO3) ☁️ 🍬

In which Spock contemplates the laws of attraction and realizes what a slippery slope that is only after he has already fallen. There's no help for him now.

Though My Soul May Set In Darkness by @pastmydancingdays (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Six months into the Five Year Mission, the Enterprise has reached the outskirts of the known galaxy, and its Captain has fallen ill. With a growing sense of unease, and increasing desperation, Spock takes it upon himself to manage both the ship, and Jim’s failing health, determined to save them both.

Because Khan’s blood was never going to be a permanent solution.

Entering Orbit by @museaway (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch.

K'diwa: A Steamy Novel of Interspecies Romance, by Jim Kirk by @branwyn-says (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Jim wrote a romance novel just to prove he could. Then someone leaked it on the public Starfleet server, and suddenly his embarrassingly smutty and sentimental Human/Vulcan love story is all over campus. Luckily for Jim, no one knows that he’s the author. Unluckily for Jim, someone forwarded the novel to the staff of the Vulcan embassy. Now, every Vulcan in San Francisco is reassessing the logical merits of taking Human bondmates.

Spock reads a Human/Vulcan romance novel because he can hardly avoid it. Suddenly, he is consumed by the need to locate the author, ascertain their wellbeing, and instruct them in the way of Vulcan mating bonds. Luckily for Spock, it doesn't take long to identify the author as Jim Kirk. Unluckily for Spock, Jim is unconscious and surrounded by interested Vulcans who also read the book.

Echolocation by Darksknight (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬

Kirk and Spock don’t realize that they’ve bonded right away. The rest of the crew is a different story.

So Wise We Grow by @youhideastar (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

"Commander Spock, we have located your son," the Vulcan lady on the screen says, which would be great, except Jim can tell by the look on Spock's face that he's never heard of this kid before in his life. "If it is expedient, the child will be sent to join you on the Enterprise within the week."

The Trouble With Vulcan-Human Hybrids by quantumgirl (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

A story in which Spock and Kirk meet their future children when accidental time travel happens. Future Spock and Kirk have twin children, a son and daughter, who each take after their parents in unique ways. After a bit of an accident, the two children are thrown into an Enterprise where Dad and Father are still only coworkers, learning how to get along with each other. ......

“He’s got hobgoblin blood, too.” McCoy shook a vial of green blood for them to see.

Kirk had finally set the PADD down, at the foot of Spock’s hospital bed. “So he’s half me and half Vulcan?” Kirk’s eyes flicked over Spock’s face. “Is this a joke?”

“I was going to ask you that,” McCoy shrugged at Jim. “You have yourself here a Vulcan-Human hybrid...a Vulcan-Kirk hybrid.”

THE MARRIAGE OF TRUE MINDS by spicyshimmy (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Prince S'chn T'gai Spock of Vulcan, engaged to Prince James Tiberius Kirk of Earth through an arrangement made by their parents many years ago, writes to his intended on the day of his birth in the interest of diplomacy. Jim is not interested in diplomacy. Though there is no precedent set for the commencement of a written correspondence begun due to these specific parameters, I will strive to maintain, to the best of my abilities and with ample preparatory research previously conducted, the appropriate level of formality between us, based on a number of factors, primarily examples of a similar nature.

[reverielibrary]

Handle With Care 

Aster is a mechanic in a long-haul space crew. When the ship needs repairs in the middle of a trip, Hue, the intra-vessel managing computer system, keeps her company in her suit and provides some extra personal care.

Wordcount: 3609 | Contains: Sci-fi, Robot x human, Transfem character, Handjob (sort of), Semi-public, Caught, Embarrassment, Voice kink, Infodumping during sex, Spacesuit, Free-floating in space, Burn care

“How’re we looking on O2, Hue?” 

Aster heard the zip of an extra tether-line deploying from the external core of her suit, shooting out a short distance and latching onto the micro-welder that had floated loose from her toolbelt. 

“Oxygen reserves at 76%. Approximately 43 minutes of suit habitability remaining,” reported Hue, directing the returning tether claw where Aster could reach it. She was started to regret disconnected her tools from their individual suit tethers, but stubborn as she was, refused to admit it and kept doing her best not to lose any of them. 

“Plenty of time,” said Aster, trying for the third time to pass her wrench from her hand to her mouth and being reprimanded by the red impact warning light flashing inside her helmet. Hue overrode the warning as Aster put the wrench in her belt to grab the micro-welder. “Thanks, bud.”

“You’re welcome, Aster.”

That’s what Hue’s official name was—Buddy. Technically, his full name was StarStroller’s Model T3051 Voyage Buddy Intra-vessel Management Computer System Unit 297. The default settings when installed gave the beck command “Buddy” and the rest of the crew had no problem calling their ship’s program that, but Aster had insisted on giving him a proper name. The crew was not keen to go along at first, but still the name caught on, and eventually they all started referring to Hue as if he were just another crew member. 

He was certainly a big enough part of their everyday lives to be considered so, at least in Aster’s opinion. Half the time they flew on autopilot, and Hue’s programming kept them alive and functioning nearly every moment of their voyage—they would be royally fucked without him. Aster had been raised to be appreciative of everyone’s work, no matter who they were or whether or not they could be considered a person, and had always been very friendly with Hue. She was quick to reprimand the others when they were rude or demeaning to him, which quickly got her labelled a cyberfucker by the others. She didn’t care to argue with them on that point—she’d rather be a cyberfucker than an asshole any day. 

Truthfully, Aster liked Hue. He was much more pleasant company for an introverted mechanic than the rowdy haulers and traders she travelled with, though they had become like a strange little family after nearly two years out in the forever-dark of space, only making landfall every few months. There weren’t many women mechanics running with long-haul crews in their sect, and even fewer who were trans and queer (though as she had found on virtual hookup sites on the local cybernet, not none). 

“These rivets are crap,” grumbled Aster, struggling to get the micro-welder at the right angle to react with the metal around the loose riveting and scoffing. “Tsh. ‘Reentry-proof,’ my foot.”  

“We could purchase new plating when the ship reaches Delnaught X,” replied Hue. The top corner of Aster’s display field popped up with a window that displayed craft part listings. “Perhaps reinforce the seams with alloy strips to reduce the wear on the rivets?” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Aster. She pulled herself a bit higher up on the grounding tethers that were anchored and locked to the ship’s hull, keeping her from drifting off into the void. “But I doubt Cap would go for it—we don’t really have the liquid for that kind of thing right now. Not after we got swindled back on Roch’s Haven outta half our due.”

“Yes, that did put us behind our budget,” said Hue, collapsing the window with the alloy strip listings. “As did the subsequent bribery losses.” 

“Ugh,” groaned Aster. “You’re telling me. Gram really has to learn to control his temper, and Fio needs to stop giving him weapons when we’re docked. He’s lucky he got out of the brawl he started with only a handful of burns.”

As if woken by the mention of the word, an ill-executed twist at the waist set the half-healed burn between Aster’s shoulderblades stinging. She winced, further frustrated as she thought about how Gram’s promises to repay her for hauling his sorry battered ass out of the fray he’d started would most certainly go unhonored. 

“Are you alright, Aster?” asked Hue, a tinge of concern in his pleasant digital-fried tone. Aster knew he was programmed to sound that way when he detected a problem, but she was always touched by it nonetheless. 

“I’m fine,” she assured. “Just sore. The burn on my back’s been annoying me, especially since I can’t reach back there to slather up in Repair-Gel.” 

Aster heard the gentle beeping hum of the suit scanning her from head to toe. 

“This suit’s internal medkit is stocked with Repair-Gel,” noted Hue. “I have access to all the suit’s functions. Would you like to me apply Repair-Gel to your burn?” 

Aster paused, a little surprised. She had prolonged her suffering by refusing to ask any of the boys to help her with the Gel, as she hated asking them for most any favours and couldn’t imagine how mortifying and uncomfortable it would be to have any of them rub goo all over her back—even Tanu, the ship’s medic, who was the only one who had seen her shirtless before. He’d been nice, as he usually was on duty, but it was still incredibly awkward and something Aster did not want to relive unless entirely necessary. It had never before occurred to her to ask Hue for help with something of that nature.

“Um,” she said, hesitating. “Well…”

She was dressed in a t-shirt and the standard issue insulated leggings under the suit, having gone without a bra as she usually did when doing external maintenance, as it only added more restriction to the already unwieldy predicament that was the short-range suit. The lining of the suit was modified MPET padded for comfort, and felt like a snug hug from a smooth and slippery mylar duvet in most places, though Aster was keenly aware of all the discreet inlets in the lining that accommodated the suit’s many, many internal functions. 

“You’ve slowed down, Aster,” coaxed Hue. “38 minutes of suit habitability remaining.”

Another sizzle of pain made up Aster’s mind for her. 

“Okay, Hue, sure. Slather away,” she said, trying to keep the mood light to fight off her nerves. Hue might not technically be a person, but she still felt like she was about to be more exposed than she would have liked—but if it had to be with any of the crew, she was glad it was Hue. 

“Copy. Deploying internal roll-on applicator to the affected area.”

Aster jumped a little when she felt cold plastic pincers like mini versions of the tether claws latch onto and gather up her t-shirt, exposing her back. The lining of the suit shifted along with the machinery behind it and with a short hiss the back of the lining parted as the applicator was deployed. A red flashing cross popped up in the middle of Aster’s visor field along with internal medkit information, and when she went to give the command to dismiss it, a yelp came from her mouth instead. 

Though Aster couldn’t see down past her collar into the rest of her suit, she could discern the applicator right away when it was deployed. By the sound and feel of it, she figured the end was a smooth metal sphere about the size of an eyeball attached to a free-moving arm. Both the applicator and the Repair-Gel it was drenched in were freezing.  

“Does this hurt, Aster?” asked Hue, that soft concerned croon returning. This time, instead of being endearing, Aster found herself blushing at the tone. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” answered Aster, perhaps a little more eagerly than she would have liked. “No, it’s fine, it’s just cold, is all.” 

“Heating applicator,” reported Hue. Almost immediately, the metal ball began to warm up, passing that heat to the gel, and as it began gliding over the tender skin between Aster’s shoulderblades it was pleasantly toasty. 

Aster let out a contented sigh. The ball slid incredibly smoothly and with just enough pressure to massage a little without pressing into the wound too much. In a few beats, the Repair-Gel began to anaesthetise the area and the pain faded away, leaving only the soothing roll of the warm slick metal. It had been a very long time since anyone had made Aster feel that physically good, let alone on her bare skin. She melted into the sensation, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment and loosening her grip on her tethers to feel the zero-G float her a little off the side of the ship. 

“Aster? Are you alright?” asked Hue, not doubt taking notice of her change in attitude, using that sweet croon again, a gentle caring voice humming in her ear. 

Aster’s eyes flew abruptly open as she became aware of a very different sensation tingling down below her hips. 

“Your heart rate is slightly elevated,” said Hue. “Do you require additional assistance?” 

“I’m fine, Hue, I’m good,” babbled Aster, reeling herself back in on the tether and clinging to the hull in embarrassment as if she could hide herself behind the ship. “The, uh, the Gel helped. I’m all good now.” 

“Your body temperature and vital monitoring indicate you are anxious,” reported Hue. 

“That’s one way to put it,” mumbled Aster. “Really, I’m okay. Let’s just finish up and get back inside.” 

Aster felt the applicator retract and her shirt and the suit-lining settle back into place.

“I could read you a story or sing you a song,” offered Hue, running through the saved soothing methods he’d filed in Aster’s profile. Especially early on in her time with her crew, those were some of the few things that could calm her down and help with her insomnia. She had fallen asleep countless times to the sound of Hue’s voice. In that moment, however, Aster was almost certain those things would make her predicament worse. 

“No, thank you,” she said, trying to keep her manner as casual as possible and her mind out of the gutter, failing both. Despite her efforts, she had become fully hard, and her dick was now squished uncomfortably by the straps of the suits’ harness. She took the wrench from her belt to speedily tighten the remaining few rivets before reinforcing them with the micro-welder, praying that a rushed patch job would last them at least until their next planetfall. 

To Aster’s dismay, a notice popped up across her visor field. Physical Integrity Report: Unexpected addition tension in LOWER TORSO, B9C6. Inspect for malfunction to maintain suit physical integrity. 

“Oh, come on,” she groaned. “These things were designed by cis men and they’re not built to handle a—?” Aster flustered before she finished her thought, feeling the weight of Hue’s bodiless presence all around her. “Dismiss notice,” she added sheepishly.

The hum of the body scan kicked up and Aster cringed. 

“There is no need to worry, Aster. Your suit’s physical integrity is intact and it remains fully functional. The sensors have simply registered and flagged your erection.” 

“Great,” said Aster, laughing a little as her face burned with heat. “Thanks for just laying it all out like that, bud.”

The sarcasm was lost on Hue. “You’re welcome, Aster.”

A few beats passed quietly as Aster finished tightening and went to switch the wrench for the welder. She fumbled both, sending the welder spinning out of reach.

“Oh, for the love of—!” she started, but stopped when a quickly deployed tether-claw with perfect aim retrieved the welder and brought it back to her. Flustered, Aster took it wordlessly and back to work, struggling with the trigger in her bulky gloved hands. 

“Your accuracy has significantly decreased,” chimed Hue, as calm and pleasant as ever. 

“It’s just a patch,” mumbled Aster. “It’ll be fine.” 

“Your discomfort is distracting you,” said Hue, matter-of-factly. “Would you like me to assist you?” 

Aster finally got the welder working and immediately stopped it, pausing with a shiver of nerves and excitement. 

“What… what do you mean?” she asked tentatively. 

“I could relieve your discomfort,” replied Hue, “like I did previously. I have access to all of your suit’s functions. I could resolve your erection for you so you could finish your work unhindered.” 

“You—I—how would—?” stammered Aster. “I don’t think we really have the time for anything… like that.” 

“35 minutes of suit habitability remaining,” said Hue. “Besides, it would not take long.”

Aster scoffed a laugh. “Oh, wow, really going for my pride, there, pal.”

“It was not a comment on your sexual performance, Aster. I am equipped to assist human charges with all manner of required functions to an optimal degree.”

Aster frowned, hardly believing she was having that conversation at all and wildly embarrassed, but unbearably curious and undeniably turned on. She shifted her legs a little to try to ease the restriction on her cock, but the movement only offered a tantalising flash of stimulation and then a worse squash in the compressing fabric of her leggings. 

“Do you mean you… you’re programmed to help with… sex stuff?” 

“I am programmed to offer relief to a wide range of physical ailments, including reproductive and genital pain or discomfort, yes.” 

Aster wrinkled her nose and banished the thought that Hue could have assisted any of the boys with their very obvious and annoying horny rage in that way. She had experienced her fill of that when she’d accidentally walked in on Bram and Fio in their bunks—or, more accurately, bunk. 

Still, with a dismissal on the tip of her tongue, Aster felt the fluster of need rising from her hips to her head. 

“Hypothetically,” she started, “how would you even do that? Right now, I mean?”

“This suit is equipped with two dozen free-motion snake arms that can access any part of the wearer’s body,” explained Hue. “With minimal modification, the inflatable cushion bandage could be used to stroke an erect penis.”

“How romantic,” joked Aster, busy with the terribly exciting knowledge that while she was in the suit, Hue had access to her entire body. The thrill of being completely in his hands as she floated off the side of her ship with the forever of open space at her back was intoxicating. The welder sat completely forgotten in her hand.

“I can speak to you in a romantic way, if that would be helpful,” said Hue. 

If Aster could have, she would would have buried her face in her hands. 

“Would you like me to proceed, Aster?” 

Like the pitch of a fall, Aster gave in to the desire gripping her body. “I would, but this suit isn’t exactly roomy, I don’t know how you would even—”

Her words were lost in a hitch of breath as she heard the zip of an internal arm deploying down by her hip and felt it slither against her clothes, navigating with incredible precision. In place of the ball applicator on the previous arm, this one had a grasp attachment of sorts, more complex than a tether-claw but simpler than a human hand, and it was holding something flat and plasticy.

“Hold still, please, Aster,” said Hue, just barely more than a request—a gentle command. 

Aster did her best not to squirm as a second arm deployed at her other hip, another grasp joining the first at her pelvis and working together in the snug space between her flesh and the suit lining to dip her leggings and underwear down out of the way. She gasped a little as one of them gripped the base of her cock, holding it firmly but surprisingly tenderly, and noticed in her fuzz of arousal that the grasps were warmed to the same temperature as the Repair-Gel applicator. 

Aster didn’t realize she was panting until her breath began to fog up the visor of her helmet, making the display frosty. She forced herself to slow her breathing, very aware that she had limited air out there. Thinking about how Hue had full control of that, too, only got her more worked up. 

“You can relax, Aster,” said Hue. “I will take care of you.” 

Before she could process what was happening, her excitement sharpened by the disorientation of not being able to see what was happening, she felt the flat strip of plastic being gently wrapped around her hard cock. 

“Inflating cushion bandage and administering lubricant,” announced Hue. 

With a fwoosh and a shock of warm wetness, Aster felt a warm tight pressure circle her dick, squeezing deliciously at her base. She let out a full moan, unable to keep herself quiet as the sensation shot through her. She only just barely got the micro-welder secured back in her belt before the arms began to move. 

“Initiating friction.” 

The slide of the smooth plastic inflatable around her cock was heavenly, slick with plenty of warm lube, the glide even more decadent than the roll of the applicator on her back. Aster huffed out groans of pure pleasure, giving slack on the grounding tethers again to let herself float off the hull, losing herself in the sensation. 

“Ooohhh, Hue…” sighed Aster, bucking a little into the cushion. She found herself easily undone and helpless desperate for touch after endless months of nothing but her own hands and the words and pictures of strangers countless stars away. 

“Yes, Aster?” cooed Hue. Aster swore she heard a new tone from him then, something sweeter than his usual pacific pleasantness, something richer. 

“Please don’t stop,” she murmured, calling up the needy lines she huffed into her pillow on her lonely nights, all alone in her single bunk. 

“I won’t.” 

But never truly alone, she realised in that moment. Hue could see and hear everything on the ship. He had always seen, always heard, always listened, always watched. Again she felt the loom of his presence there with her like a tangible thing, felt his synthetic gaze on her, felt the arms and the grasps like they were his limbs and hands on her, like the suit was him, covering every inch of her. As she inched farther away from the hull, she put herself entirely at his mercy, letting her moans be freer and huskier as Hue quickened his strokes. In that moment, she was his. 

“Keep talking,” begged Aster, breathless. 

“What would you like me to talk about?”

“Anything.” Aster could feel the heat pooling in her guts as the pleasure of every slick, clenching stroke rose and rose. “Anything you want. Just let me hear you, please.” 

“We are passing within view of the Kilo-0-Romeo-3934 supernova,” reported Hue. His voice was just a little quieter and lighter, almost as if her had breath of his own, the rocky digital fry in Aster’s ear raising goosebumps all down her spine. “Because of the particulate of the Orocathmel belt interrupting the wavelengths of its light, it will appear pink and red to the human eye with clouds of debris unfurling from its epicentre in a spiral, like the petals of a rose.” 

“Fuck,” cursed Aster, her voice breaking. Her legs began to quiver, her building orgasm edging on too much to bear, but she couldn’t do anything but float there as Hue jerked her off, steadily increasing his pace. “Keep going, please keep going, just keep talking, please—”

“The particulate of the Orocathmel is comprised of approximately 86% mineral matter and 14% organic matter from the collision of Comet-Sweetheart-9989 with the former planet Tatragre—”

“Say that again,” whined Aster.

“Say what again?” 

“Sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart.” Hue repeated the word slower the second time, stretching out the syllables. 

Aster was painfully close. Her whole body tensed as she felt her cock throb with need, desperate to come. “Again.”

“Sweetheart.”

With a gasp of a moan, Aster came. Her slick cock throbbed in the cushion’s slippery grip as her cum shot all over the lining of the suit and onto the front of her shirt. She convulsed in zero-G, feeling nothing but the crashing waves of rapture and the heat of her dripping spend. 

She could have been imagining it, but she thought she heard Hue give a low, satisfied hum as she flinched and panted, slowly coming back to herself as her orgasm ebbed. The grounding tethers snapped taught as she drifted to limit and the tension held her in place as she caught her breath. 

“Feeling better?” asked Hue. 

The cushion ring hissed as it deflated, the grasps making quick work of folding it flat and retreating, leaving Aster alone with her mess of cum and her sensitive cock still exposed against the sleek lining of the suit. 

“Oh, boy,” she panted, still a little fuzzy as her body calmed down. “I came… in the suit. I can’t believe I just came in the suit. Cap’s going to kill me.”

“No need to worry, Aster. I can get the suit clean and resterilised when we return to the ship,” assured Hue.

“You better,” came Cap’s voice over the intercom, sounding ruffled and more than a little annoyed. Aster’s stomach dropped. “You two lovebirds almost finished out there?” 

“Yes, Captain. Aster’s repairs are nearly complete,” replied Hue.

“Good. Finish up and quit wasting the O2 reserves. And Aster?” 

It was a marvel to Aster that her voice still worked and that her head didn’t go up in flames from how hotly she flushed. “Yes, Cap?” 

“Next time you want to have a little cyberfucker date, do it somewhere you can disable your system comm.”

[boxeboxer]

PRINCESS SHIRIN SASAN

Origin: asalee

Status: organic

Nationality/Ethnicity: Persian (Turkish-Iranian)

Age: 30s

Occupation: royal member of the House of Sasan, Gyan-Avspar

About:

Shirin Sasan is the eldest daughter of the current royal family of the Kingdom of Persia, the House of Sasan. She is a Gyan-Avspar trained in the art of hunting and killing neomesmerian conjugates.

Since childhood, Shirin has undergone Sassanid skeletal gilding, or the application of gold alloys on the surface of or inside of her bones. Being a non-magnetic material, this gives Shirin resistance to clairvoyance. Having risen to an elite status within the House of Sasan (HoS), she has also been given the title of Gyan-Avspar, one of the highest-ranking positions in the Sassanid Pushtigban (royal cavalry). She is proficient in archery, swordsmanship, and other melee combat styles. Per Pushtigban practice, she does not use gunpowder weapons.

Shirin is very serious and committed. She puts her responsibilities above all else, even if it brings adverse effects to her health or social life. She values her family and believes their moral sovereignty above rival alchemic philosophies. As part of the Pushtigban creed, she is held to high expectations of valor, is always is true to her word, and never breaks a promise.

Background:

From a young age, Shirin was educated according to Zoroastrianism alchemical knowledge passed down through her family. Her status as the oldest daughter to the current ruling king elected her as the next Gyan-Avspar, a practice taken up by the women belonging to the paternal Sassanid line. The last Gyan-Avspar was her great aunt, and she trained under her guidance throughout her life.