#myth a frozen tale

[tenshichan1013]

myth a frozen tale 

#disney #frozen #myth a frozen tale #bruni #nokk #earth giant #disney plus

[theartoffrozen]

Early Exploration thumbnails/storyboards for Myth A Frozen Tale

Music by Joseph Trapanese

Voice by Evan Rachel Woods

Thumbnailish-Storyboards by Jorge E. Ruiz Cano

Direction by Jefe Gipson

#myth a frozen tale #deleted scene #video #storyboards #Joseph Trapanese #Jorge E. Ruiz Cano #Jefe Gipson #Evan Rachel Woods #miscellaneous characters #fave

[wintersovereign]

#myth: a frozen tale #frozen 2 #murder horse TM #the spirit of water (nokk) #my gifs

[lovewillthaw-j]

Air, fire, water, earth!

❄️ The fifth spirit ❄️

#myth: a frozen tale #frozen #frozen 2 #elsa #Frozenedit #Frozen2edit #Frozensource #Disneyedit #disneynetwork #disneysource #disneyfeverdaily #disneyfilmsdaily #disneygifsdaily #disneysuniverse #disneydaily #princessdaily #animationsdaily #filmedit

[locktobre]

rewatched myth: a frozen tale last night and the thing about the story is... it doesn’t sound like it’s about the whole thing with the dam and the mist, at all. bc saying the human spirit 'lost its rhythm’ would be crazy if, y’know, it was murdered (assuming that the northuldra leader was the previous spirit, which, ymmv on that even bc it’s unclear). and the spirits didn’t disappear at that point, either, bc Yelana mentions the rock giants roaming the north at night. not to mention the visuals are completely different, they show the forest being LEVELED which isn’t what happened when it closed up with the mists

which all presents a lot of interesting information, even through the abstraction of a fairytale retelling, bc that means that a) the whole spirit debacle has definitely happened before, and b) it happened in an entirely different way and presumably very different reasons.

so now the real question is, how did the human spirit lose its way so badly that the entire forest blew up (apparently), and how the hell did they ever come back from that?

#mel irl #myth: a frozen tale #frozen 2 #thinking i may be able to tie this in with my theory about the trolls and possible southuldra but i mean we'll see

[lafiametta]

As much as I'd like Shōgun to return to the dynamic pacing that characterized the first part of the show (have we really spent the last four episodes in Ajiro?), slowing the action down has allowed for some fascinating explorations of character and theme.

One that featured heavily in this week's episode (as well as in the previous one) is the idea of myth-making and story.

Toranaga, of course, is the center of one such myth. The “boy warlord,” he won his first battle at age twelve and then served as second to his defeated enemy, taking off his head with one blow. This is the story that Saeki Nobutatsu tells at dinner, a tale that delights his young, impressionable nephew. Nagakato, who wants to prove himself to his father, takes such story as truth and wants to emulate him by riding off to battle, where he will likely be killed, but as a glorious end that will be told and retold. (“Will we die with blood on our swords?” he asks, which is the only honorable way to die.)

Lady Ochiba is surrounded by her own legends. Whereas Toranaga's exploits are the stuff of dinner party entertainment, she literally watches her own life be made into drama. The play performed at the Noh theater depicts her courtship by the Taikō, a courteous affair where her character does not speak, an frozen mask covering any expression she might make. (“Dear Lady Ochiba,” the fictionalized Taikō tells her, “if we have a son, prestige will spread in every direction...”)

(Mariko is also haunted by a story, that of her father's actions against Kuroda. But unlike Toranaga and Ochiba, she has no desire to disillusion herself. In her mind, her father died a hero, the man he killed a tyrant, and for fourteen years she has suffered by not being able to fulfill her duty to him by joining him in death.)

But what Shōgun is also trying to tell us is that life is nothing like the myth. A glorious death, the honor of one's family, the prestige of bearing the Taikō's only son, these require far more of us that we can ever imagine, pain and horror laced through every act.

The true story is one we never want to tell. It is being drugged and assaulted on a nightly basis by your consort and his wife, all in the hopes that you will give them a child. It is hacking at the bloody neck of your defeated enemy, until the ninth blow finally severs his head. It is attempting to kill your uncle in the darkened garden of a tea house, only to slip on a wet stone and dash your brains against the rocks, not a single drop of blood on your sword.

#shōgun #shogun #shogun 2024 #shogun fx #fx shogun #shogun spoilers #1x06 #1x07 #yoshii toranaga #yoshii nagakato #lady ochiba #toda mariko #meta

[fandomsandfeminism]

"Romeo and Juliets romance is just so unrealistic! It's not what a romance is like in MY experience!"

Oh? Oh really? You, adult living in 2022, you never went to a fancy Venetian masquerade in the 1590s and met a mysterious stranger and then your first conversation spontaneously forms a perfect sonnet? That's not a totally relatable experience for you?

Is Macbeth unrealistic because of the witches? Is Midsummer unrealistic because of the love potion?

Like, there's no explicit magic in Romeo and Juliet, but it still exists in a heightened reality, and overlooking the role that language plays within the text itself kneecaps your analysis of the intent.

When we hear of Romeo, his dad and friends are discussing his recent sad mood- he's upset because the girl he likes has no interest in him. His friends try to distract him from it with a party, but dont really seem to...connect with or fully empathize with his sadness. When we first hear of Juliet, her father and Paris are planning her marriage (without her input.) They are both talked about but not really listened to. The way they are spoken about isolates them from others.

Then they meet, and with no knowledge of each other, not even their names, they click into perfect rhythm. They finish each other rhymes. They form perfect ABAB quatrains in conversation, their sentences form a rhyming *couplet* at the end.

You know the song Ana sings with Hans in Frozen? Love is an open door? We finish each others- Sandwiches? Yeah- it's riffing on this. The idea that you meet someone perfect and right away your souls can make poetry together. The immediate intimacy of being so in sync that your introduction is a love poem.

I don't know, yall. Romeo and Juliet isn't a gritty hyper-realistic Oscar nominated docu-drama. It teters on the edge of fairy tale and myth, it leans on its language to convey deeper emotional truths that a 5 act play doesn't have the time to develop as deeply as we, in our world of movie montages and long form TV, are more accustomed to. This isn't a slow burn, pining, enemies to friends to lovers. It's soul mates love at first sight, and when you accept that, the play can get on with the business of saying what it wants to say about hate and the cycle of violence and social rules and decorum and how grudges and blood fueds can destroy the magic in the world if we let it.

"It doesn't matter if they are really in love. They should be allowed to be stupid hormonal teenagers without dying" I see many people say, and while I think that sentiment is true, I DO think it matters that they are in love. I think it matters that their meeting sparks a sonnet, and that poetry is snuffed out by the violence around them.

I think it matters that what they had wasn't an arranged marriage or a "good match" made by approving friends- that it was spontaneous and instant and inexplicable, but that the world couldn't let that be because it defied all the rules. Because it wasn't set up by parents and wasn't politically convenient, because it wasn't part of a proper, prolonged courtship with chaperones and social approval- it was love and poetry that defied all of that and so it was snuffed out. That they are pushed to such extremes not just by the killings, but by Juliets impending engagement to Paris, they have to act now because their love doesnt fit into the proper pattern set out by society- I think that matters.

#romeo and juliet #im all for modern remakes that take whatever modern readings they want #but Im hesitant to AGREE with all the grown ups in the play that their love cant be real because it didnt happen the right way #they speak a sonnet together the first time they meet!

[ghcstao3]

Im currently watching brave and it’s given me brain worms hehe

It’s to do with the will o’ the wisp!

Either soaps been seeing them his whole life guiding him to the task force or after a rough mission, totally lost/injured and with no way to contact anyone they guide his way back to ghost :D

Thanks for everything you write it genuinely makes my day to read all your works!!

ooh i really like this. also- apparently will o' the wisps are actually Not good in folklore so i wrote a little twist to fix that ;)

-

Throughout his life, Soap's nan had always liked to tell him stories about the many malevolent creatures he should hope to never have the misfortune of encountering—kelpies, redcaps, sluaghs; just about everything that existed in his homeland's folklore.

A little cruel in retrospect, Soap thinks, but for a while he'd just understood it as his nan's way of ensuring her grandson was to behave. They were myths, old tales and explanations for the unexplainable, and he can appreciate the determination to share tradition.

But now, as Soap is stranded in thick woods after an operation gone awry, blood sticky on his temple and a bullet stuck in his leg, he's not so sure they were just stories. Not as he's currently staring down an unnatural wisp of light in the darkness, hovering just a few feet away from where he'd collapsed against the thick, gnarled trunk of a tree.

Will o' the wisp, his mind supplies. Omens of death, his nan had told him, like many other creatures and spirits. They appear to the weary and lost like himself, flickers of glowing blue light almost hopeful as they guide one along a seemingly nonsensical path—but instead of leading someone to safety, they lure people to their doom.

The wisp just floats, unmoving, as Soap sits frozen. He tries his radio to no avail, and realizes with a great dread that he only has two options: attempt to find his own way back to his team, to anyone, anywhere, with the great risk of only getting more lost—or follow the wisp in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, it may actually lead him somewhere useful, no matter how bad the destination. Soap could only hope that doom is something he can fend off with a gun.

His decision is made rather easily because... he supposes it doesn't really make a difference, does it?

So he pushes himself away from the tree and toward the light—it vanishes as soon as he steps toward it, but with another step forward, another wisp appears.

Soap limps along, following the wisps. They weave him through trees and take sharp, sudden turns, disappearing and reappearing endlessly as Soap pursues the trail they leave. His head is on a swivel with every sound that isn't the crunch of branches beneath his own boots, with every flash of movement in his periphery.

He feels like he’d been walking forever by the time the forest has grown less dense and the wisps fade away for good—and that's when Soap sees it.

The large, imposing silhouette. The hulking figure cloaked in black. The glimpse of a skull in the sliver of moonlight that had managed to break through the forest's canopy.

Soap swallows a laugh. The will o' the wisps must have led him to Ghost, not realizing doom would have only been certain for Soap had he been the enemy.

Funny.

Ghost spots him and raises his gun, pauses, then after a moment lowers the barrel.

"Johnny?" Ghost grunts. "Where the fuck've you been?"

Soap shrugs a shoulder, wincing as he steps closer. "Lost my way running from the facility. Comms were dead." He flashes a crooked grin. "Worked out though, aye?"

Ghost snorts. "Aye," he echoes. "C'mon, then. Exfil's waiting. Save your explanations 'til then."

Soap gladly follows, relief nearly exalting.

But as they walk shoulder-to-shoulder, Soap can’t help but cast one last glance back at the trees from where he had emerged.

He wonders if the wisps had really made a mistake. He wonders if maybe they hadn't been done leading him, but Ghost had gotten in the way.

Questions he'll likely never find the answers for.

But regardless, now in safe hands—Soap thinks he had better refresh himself on his nan's stories as soon as he gets the chance.

He doesn't know now, whenever they might come in handy.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

[starneteyam]

THE BLAME ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x fem! reader

🖇️ warn. Mention of death, fluff, very long

🎥 You are a member of the Lyre’oaran clan, a species that live in a tundra environment, closest to Eywa. Your clan is of legends and myths, but after the sky people attacked and forced you out, you urge to find Jake Sully — to save your clan.

A/N Lyre’oare is a clan that I’ve made up! It is a mixture of the words “Frozen” and “Moon”.

You wailed, tears spilling from your eyes as an avatar of the sky people held you by your braid, a knife to your neck, forcing you to watch as your mother was murdered in front of you. “You monster!” You screamed, trying to bare your teeth, but grief winning over and a sob leaving your throat. Colonel Quaritch only chuckled, dropping your mother’s dead body, her body laying against your dead siblings and father. Everybody was dead, the homes your clan has built all burning to the ground. He sheathed his knife, walking closer to you and squatting down to get to your eye level.

“Now, you listen here, missy.” He spat. You could barely hear his voice, overlapped with the sound of your sobs and the burning wood around you. Your heart physically hurt, everything you were spiritually connected with, all dead or burning. Your connection with Eywa was stronger than any other clan in Pandora. “You fly off with your little pet, and you find Jake Sully. Now, you tell him that Colonel Quaritch is coming for him—that he’s next.” He said through gritted teeth, angered by the thought of the man you’ve never heard of. “I do not know who Jake’Suli is.” You spoke the truth, your words barely making it through your cries.

“He’s Toruk Makto.” He said in his American accent, “The leader of the Omiticaya.” Your eyes flickered to his, recognizing the Omiticayans, and he didn’t fail to notice. They were the forest people, a clan that lived below, towards the south in a warm environment. He smiled. “Good, so you know them.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes and tears gliding down your cheeks. “Please, I beg of you. Let me join my family.” You begged quietly, raising your chin and showing him your neck, hoping he would slice it. He looked around at his military group, before bursting out into laughter like a hyena. “Spare you? Now, I can’t do that. After all, dead men tell no tales.” He stabbed his knife through your right hand, and you screamed in pain. “This wound on your hand can be your proof.”

You rode your ikran, wailing as you rode through the skies. Your heart was in anguish and you had no time to grieve as you flew towards the caves of the Omiticaya. You were covered in the blood of your family, staining your pale blue skin. Lyre’oaran people’s skin color was baby blue, their hair being white to blend in with the snow. After days of flying, you reached the Omiticaya with a heavy heart, your face stone cold.

You let out a cry to let them know of your presence, landing your ikran. Upon seeing you, the Omiticayans hissed, some drawing their weapons, others turning their heads in curiosity. You stepped on the ground, holding your chin up high. “Take me to Jake’Suli, Toruk Makto.” You said, your voice full of authority. The crowd mumbled amongst themselves, and a boy your age emerged from the crowd. “Who are you?” He asked, voice loud and stern, as if he were challenging you. You placed your fingers on your forehead. “Oel ngati kameie.” The tension around you seemed to lessen.

He didn’t do it back, still cautious, and you couldn’t blame him. You were covered in dried blood, and you looked like a Na’vi that had never been seen before. “Please, I beg of you. Take me to Toruk Makto.” You pleaded, your voice caught in your throat as the images flashed your mind. He frowned, and complied. The people watched you with judging eyes as you walked towards the home of Jake Sully.

“Father!” He had said, making your eyes widen. You stood in anticipation as a man, who you assumed was Jake Sully, showed himself. Behind him stood a woman, who you thought was his mate, and his children. Jake’s ears flickered as he looked at you. “What the…” He whispered out, stepping closer. “She arrived unpronounced, and wished to speak to you.” The boy told his father. You let out a shaky breath, looking up at Jake Sully. Who was this man?

“I am the eldest daughter of Olo’eyktan, of the Lyre’oaran clan.” You spoke, glaring up at him as he looked down at you with confusion. You voice was wavering, tears welling your eyes as you tried to contain your anger. ‘This is the man that got my clan killed.’ You thought. “My clan is dead.” You said through gritted teeth, baring your teeth at him. “Lyre’oaran?” He mumbled, and his mate stood forward. “You are the people of the frozen moon?” She said. Your breath hitched, and you nodded.

“My people are dead.” You rephrased, stepping forward. “The Sky People came to our village, and killed everybody. They destroyed our most sacred place, and burned the houses, and killed the people! Because of you!” You yelled, though ending with a sob. Neytiri held her hands in front of her mouth, feeling your pain. You showed your wounded hand. “He is coming, for you.” You balled up your wounded hand into your fist.

“It is all your fault!” You screamed, and he stepped forward, a look of guilt on his face. You hit your fist against his chest. “It is your fault! My people! My home!” You sobbed, anger winning over you as you repeatedly hit his chest. He didn’t fight back, nor did his family stop you. They only watched in sympathy and pity. “My family.” You sobbed, and enveloped you in a hug, and you gave in, feeling warmth for the first time in days. You sobbed in his chest, your cries loud.

As daughter of Olo’eyktan, you were always taught to be noble, elegant, and graceful. You never had an emotional outburst before, but your feelings flowed out of you. “I’m sorry.” Jake apologized in your ear, and you couldn’t help but cry harder. “I’m sorry.”

You sat silently in their home, feeling like an outcast. You sat with your knees against your chest, hugging your legs. “You must eat.” Neytiri said softly, placing a bowl next to you. You ignored her. She sighed. “I understand.” She said. Your ears twitched, signaling that you were listening. “My father was killed by the Sky People. My people, our home tree, our forest — all because of them.” She sneered. You looked at her, slowly loosening. “Jake and my children are all half breeds, but they are one of the people. He helped us win against the devils.” She explained, looking at Jake, who sat across the room, with Tuktirey in his lap.

“Tomorrow, we move. We fly for Metkayina, for our safety. You must come with us.” She urged, and you turned your body towards her. Even you knew that you weren’t safe here. “You are fleeing? Instead of fighting?” You asked, judgement in your voice. She sighed. “For the children, we are fleeing.” You bit your lip, and couldn’t argue. Your parents would have done the same thing, and you knew that. “Then I will come with you.” Neytiri smiled at this. “But before we go, I ask to visit your sacred place — the spirit tree. I must feel Eywa.” She stared at you, silent, as if she were hesitant, then nodded.

“Ey, Neteyam!” She called over, to which the boy who you met first came over. “Take her to the spirit tree.” She ordered, and Neteyam said nothing and nodded. “Come.” He ushered. You stood, following him outside. As he led you towards the ikran, he stayed quiet for a while, before he spoke. “I have never heard of the Lyre’oare clan.” He told you, his voice startling you. You cleared your throat. “We are a clan only spoken in legends and myths, so it is expected.” You said, each word of your heavy and holding meaning.

“We are the clan closest to Eywa; each of us have a personal connection with the great mother. We live where the sun hides behind the moon, so our land is cold. That is why we are called the people of the frozen moon.” You explained, never thinking you would explain yourself to an outsider. Your clan was forbidden to interact with other clans, as your clan’s job was to maintain the balance of Eywa. “I see.” He said quietly, letting your words sink into his heart. Silence followed as you reached your ikrans, and began to set flight.

He didn’t speak after that, so you had decided to make conversation. “Your mother is lovely.” You had said, surprising him. He looked at you with wide eyes. “I can feel her love for Eywa, and her connection.” You looked at him. “And I can feel yours.” You said in a hushed tone. He shyly looked away. Your aura was that of a goddess’, and he couldn’t help but feel nervous around you. Yes, that had to be the reason he was nervous—no other reason.

You arrived at the sacred tree, and you gasped at the beauty of it. Eywa will always win your heart. Almost immediately, the seeds of the spirit tree started floating towards you. You laughed in joy, reaching your hands out to them. Neteyam watched in awe. So this is what being part of the most spiritual clan was like. You stepped towards the tree, brushing your hands against the stems, the nature around you whispering. He followed after you, entranced with curiosity.

You sat at the foot of the tree, on your knees. You reached out and grabbed a stem, sliding it towards yourself as you brought your braid towards the stem. You breathed in through your mouth as you connected and made your bond, before smiling. The grass below you began to illuminate brighter, and Neteyam stepped back. You raised your arms, placing your hands against the bark of the tree. “What the…” He mumbled as he watched the wound on your hand slowly heal. “Shh.” You hushed him.

He did so, watching as your hand was now left with nothing but a scar. You then leaned forward, pressing your forehead against the tree, eyes closed. “I see you, Eywa.” You whispered. You stood up quickly, causing Neteyam to flinch. You unbounded yourself from the spirit tree, and turned to him. “Thank you for bringing me here.” Neteyam couldn’t speak, the words getting caught in his throat. ‘Beautiful.’ He wanted to say.

The next day, you headed out to Awa’atlu with the Suli family, riding with Neteyam as you had to leave your ikran behind. Your ikran was used to colder temperatures, and bringing him to such a warm place like Pandora’s reefs would be too harsh for your ikran. You, on the other hand, would be able to adapt—hopefully. You took note of Kiri, feeling a strong connection of her and Eywa, but you decided not to say anything. She was child of an Avatar and alien. Being mature as a child of Eywa, you made sure not to discriminate, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable around her. She probably noticed.

“You must be careful. The chief’s wife is wise, but strict. She will not be so welcoming.” You told them, and Jake turned to you. “How do you know?” He asked, loud enough for you to hear. You let out a laugh. “I am connected with Eywa, I know everything!” You told him, gripping on tighter to Neteyam. His breath hitched. You ignored it.

“You didn’t know of me, though?” Jake said with obvious conclusion. You stayed silent for a few heartbeats, before speaking again. “I knew of you. I knew of Toruk Makto, and of how you led your people to victory against the Sky People. Though, Eywa did not reveal your name. She does not tell me anybody’s name.” You explained.

“The people of Awa’atlu are strong respecters of my clan, the Lyre’oare. Their spirit tree is under water, and without the cold of the water that is- was maintained by my people, their tree would have not been strong. They respect me and my people, though they’ve never seen us. But I can not say the same for you. They will be cautious of you.” You warned them, your words full of intelligence. “Well, let’s just hope they like us.” Jake mumbled.

You and the Suli family arrived, and you got off first, not afraid. The people crowded you and the family, murmuring amongst themselves. You felt someone touch your tail, and you hissed. You understood their curiosity, but you were one of the Lyre’oaran people, they should respect you. Your ears were rounder, like a polar bear’s, and your skin was much lighter, like ice.

You stood by Neteyam and Lo’ak, watching as two boys walked closer to you, then behind. “Look at their tails!” Rotxo laughed, touching Neteyam’s tail. “How are they supposed to swim?” Added Au’nong, laughing along. You stepped forward towards Au’nong, and he stopped laughing as he looked at you. You scanned him with judging eyes, circling around him. You gently kicked his tail with your foot, then ran your fingers along his arm. “Hey!” He hissed. “You are built for swimming.” You commented the obvious, looking at his arm.

You pushed his arm back to him. “But that is all you are good for.” He bared his teeth at your comment, and before you could bare your teeth back, Neteyam stopped you. “Just be cool, guys.” Said Jake, and you stepped away from Au’nong, showing some class. You were a lady, and that of a higher class. He was nothing but a childish teen. The chief made his presence, and you watched silently as he negotiated with Jake.

Then, his wife, Ronal appeared. She walked between the Suli family slowly, before setting eyes upon you. “You.” She said, head turning to her. “Where do you come from?” She asked, voice deep and strong. You didn’t cower. “I am daughter of Olo’eyktan, of the Lyre’oaran clan.” You said loudly. Some people gasped, some people stepped forward to get a better look at you.

“Why do you come here?” She asked. You huffed through your nose. “My clan is no longer. I am the only survivor. The Sky People have attacked my home. The Suli family and I come here to seek shelter.” You told her sternly, not wavering once. Her stare on you lingered, before she turned away. She touched Kiri’s tail. “Their tails are too thin, and their arms are too small.” She said. She then grabbed Lo’ak’s hand, showing them for everybody to see.

“They are not even real Na’vi!” The crowd gasped. “They have demon blood!” The crowd hissed and mumbled, and Jake sighed. Tuning Ronal and Jake out, you grabbed Neteyam’s hand, his hand flat against yours. He was surprised, and you hummed. “You do not have five fingers.” You said, smiling as you looked up at him. You didn’t know why, but you felt like comforting him. He let out a shaky breath, before clearing his throat. “I- Yeah.” He laughed nervously.

Lo’ak elbowed his side teasingly, and Neteyam only hissed back. You grinned, looking at Neteyam, before looking at his brother. “The daughter of the chief is looking this way.” You whispered. “What?” Lo’ak asked, head snapping up as he looked for Tsireya. “Just kidding.” You and Neteyam laughed, while Lo’ak groaned. “Not funny.”

“Come, follow.” You laughed, urging Neteyam quietly as he ran at after you. It was late at night, and the two of you were sneaking out. Neteyam knew that if his father found out, he would have surely gotten in trouble — but the excitement of it all was something he loved. You reached a dock, sitting down and reaching into the water. “Look.” You swerved your fingers around the water, the water around your hands turning light blue, illuminated. He stared in wonder.

He reached down into the water, doing the same, but the sea didn’t change. He looked at you in confusion. “My body is cold, because I am from a colder place. The water freezes as I touch.” You explained, eyes on him with a wide grin the whole time. He couldn’t help but grin back. “Your body is cold?” He asked. You nodded to confirm, holding your hand out. He hesitated, eyes glancing between you and your hand.

He placed his hand into yours, his larger. You gripped his hand, a chill being sent up your spine from his warmth. He let out a laugh. “You are freezing!” He exclaimed, and you giggled. “And you are warm.” Slowly, you brought his hand up to your face, and he subconsciously cupped it. His smile died down, his breath hitching. You stared up at him with doe eyes, and he almost leaned in, but he furrowed his eyebrows.

“You’re cold.” He mumbled, and your eyelids fluttered. “You are too cold.” He said, finally realizing something was wrong as your eyes fluttered shut, your body limp as you fell into his arms, unconscious. “Shit!” He scooped you up in his arms, your breaths fast and rapid. Your body was not adapting to the warm weather well. You were most likely having a heatstroke. He ran towards his home, hoping to find his father.

“Dad! Dad!” He yelled, Jake immediately standing up and looking at his son with wide eyes. “Something’s- Something is wrong with her.” He said, breaths fast as his eyes scanned her body with fear. “It is too warm here.” Neteyam explained, obvious distress in his tone. Neytiri acted first, ushering him to place her on the floor. “Hurry, call Ronal.” She told Kiri.

“What the hell were you doing, boy?” Asked Jake through gritted teeth, kneeling down next to his son. Neteyam tried to speak through his patterned breaths, obviously panicking. Jake quickly noticed, letting out a sigh before bringing his son’s head to his chest in comfort. “It’s going to be okay, Neteyam. She’ll be fine.”

You awoke the next day with a headache, but feeling much better. You rose up fast, looking around and noticing how you were back home. You looked to your sides, also noting how you were alone. “Neteyam? Lo’ak?” You called, hoping someone would show. You heard scurried footsteps, before you saw Neteyam. He let out a relieved sigh, immediately rushing in front of you and dropping to his kneels, arms wrapped around your neck as he hugged you tightly.

“You are okay.” He whispered, and you hesitantly hugged back, letting out a laugh. “Calm, Neteyam. I only fainted.” You joked, hoping to lighten the mood. Neteyam didn’t agree. He grabbed you by your shoulders, looking at you with stern eyes. “You only fainted? You gave me a heart attack! You are not taking care of yourself!” He said, angry. Your smile faded, and you frowned. You didn’t like that he was upset with you—at all.

“I am sorry, Neteyam. I did not mean to burden you.” You spoke in a hushed tone, your ears flickering back in guilt. His expression relaxed upon seeing yours. He cupped the side of your face so you would look at him. “You never burdened me. I care for you.” He said, his words holding deep meaning and placing a weight on your heart. You leaned into his hand, closing your eyes. “I am-” He cut you off, your eyes snapping open as his lips connected to yours with urgency.

It was a quick, but deep kiss, and you sat dumbfounded. You recollected yourself, breath shaky. “Neteyam.” You whispered, eyes wide. “I see you.” He told you, scooting closer to you as his eyes searched your face. Your confused expression morphed into a joyed one, your hand covering your mouth as a laugh slipped out your throat. “Neteyam!” You jumped on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, the sudden weight knocking you to over, laughter filling the open room.

He laid below you, and you supported yourself off the floor with your elbows, looking into his eyes. “I see you.” You told him back, leaning in for a second kiss.

#neteyam x reader #Neteyam #Avatar Neteyam x reader #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar twow #twow #Neteyam x reader twow #avatar twow neteyam x reader #Lo’ak #Kiri #Fanfic #fanfiction #one shot #fluff #neteyam x reader fluff #Neteyam fluff #Neteyam one shot #Neteyam fanfiction #Neteyam fanfic

[naffeclipse]

It gives me such a big Fox!Sun vibes like it's him just look

https://youtube.com/shorts/yxjxTkIB2nc?si=9T4AUt_w4V0u3gqk

Also it made me curious, what it would be like if y/n was a human instead? How would they meet the boys, and what would make them fall for y/n?

Kisses I hope you will have a great day

The fox screams are adorable!! Augh, that's a very excited Fox!Sun!

A human Y/N with the fox boys has a different vibe. You're not afraid of any tall tales of the fox men you've heard around the region, and you certainly don't believe in them. What's a myth in a wild land that the people tend to shy away from? It's simple fear, you think.

You venture through the forest and meadows blanketed in snow, spying creatures and critters along, much more afraid of you than you are of them, but sometimes you see large tracks. Sometimes you think you hear snickering laughter when you accidentally trip face-first into a mound of snow. Sometimes you feel the weight of a gaze upon you. You leave some bait behind, setting up your camera—not that you believe in the myths, just that you want to find the rational explanation for whatever is slinking through the trees.

You always come back to your bait gown and your camera disturbed, much to your charging. You chalk it up to the local kids messing with your endeavors—though it's hard to ignore the large tracks scattered around the area.

Then, you venture too far, and in losing track of time and realizing that the weather is turning, you start to trek back to shelter. You're a bit too late. The blizzard hits, and you're lost. Hopelessly, helplessly lost. You can't see an inch in front of your face. The jacket you wear wasn't meant for the sunny day you walked out into, not this howling storm piercing you with snowflakes.

You stumble, and shiver, curling up into a ball on the ground, trying to coax yourself back to your feet but it's really, really cold, and you're sleepy. You shouldn't be sleepy, but you drift away as snow dusts your frozen cheeks—

Then you're grabbed, heaved into soft, warm arms, and lugged through the withering gales. You wonder who's saving you but can't see enough through the storm. Then, it's cut off by a burrow, a warm, earth-scented den. You curl up closer to the bodies holding you close between them. Voices, strange, musical voices, mutter and murmur throughout the night until you can feel your fingers and toes again.

When you finally lift your head, you're greeted by two vulpine grins and a polite introduction, the fluff of their tails still gathered close to you as if they're not certain you're thawed.

You blurt out that they're not real. The one, yellow and bright with piercing eyes, laughs and assures you that they are very real. The other, blue and dark with haunting eyes, murmurs that you're quite foolish to be catch out in a storm like that. You can't find your tongue in the initial moment, still processing that these two divine creatures are in the flesh before your eyes.

But you have time to rethink your beliefs. So long as the walk back to civilization, you hope, is a long one.

#of fox maws #human y/n not believing in any of the rumors or signs of said fox men #fox men rescuing them from a storm: hi :D #fox!sun #fox!moon

[theartoffrozen]

Concept art by Brittney Lee

#myth a frozen tale #bruni #Brittney Lee #concept art

[wintersovereign]

#myth: a frozen tale #frozen 2 #the earth spirit (earth giants) #my gifs

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 5 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: language probably, tense situations with dangerous vampires, angst ig?

wc: 4.6k

Midmorning finds you and Namjoon seated on the stone floor around the low center table of your main room. The table is littered with papers and open books, pens and half-full coffee cups. Your previous argument forgotten, you’ve spent the morning productively and companionably. 

On the paper closest to you, you’ve made a list of all the threads of the curse that you’re confident are present, the same ones you’d discussed with Prince Taehyung in this very room yesterday. On Namjoon’s side of the table is a list of possible threads - things you’re unsure about, things you’re considering, things that are possible but thus far unproven.

On the paper beside yours, you’ve begun listing options to counter each of these threads. There’s always more than one way. The key to a countercurse is to first determine each thread that must be countered, and then find the exact correct counter for each one. 

It isn’t even a matter of countering each individual strand - there are elements of finding the least-common-denominator, in a way: you need the best thing that will counter as many as possible at once. 

One thread might be best countered by a certain incantation, but if a different one will counter three threads, then it’s the better choice. 

Once you know what incantations and magical elements you need to include in the counter, you can begin to decide how best to weave them together and cast them effectively into a countercurse. 

“We counter the infliction of pain with healing,” you mutter, tapping your pen against the paper. You look at Namjoon, thinking hard. “Do you think we could tap into the prince’s healing abilities for that?”

Namjoon’s eyes widen and he scrambles for his own pen, starting to write quickly before he can lose the train of thought. “Yes,” he answers you as he writes. “Yes, that’s brilliant. Instead of weaving in our own healing spell, we can pull his ability to the surface - it’s much cleaner that way.”

“I was also thinking about this…” you muse, glancing up to see that Namjoon is following. “I know this might sound silly, but… I was thinking about the creation myth? The Hunter and the Highest, do you know it?”

He looks confused, but nods. “Who doesn’t?”

“The myth serves as an explanatory tale,” you say, accidentally slipping into professor-mode, “regarding how the Infracti changed from just monster.”

“They were traded humanity,” Namjoon says, trying to remember the story.

“Traded, gifted - yeah. The magic-wielders gave them humanity. So, I’m wondering… if that’s what we’re meant to do now, with the countercurse. Return his humanity.”

Namjoon thinks on this. “That’ll be a hell of a thread for us to create,” he muses, and you have to agree.

You’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and Dansoo approaches, looking down at where you and Namjoon are seated on the floor. You look up at him expectantly, your hand frozen mid-air, still clutching your pen.

“Her Majesty the Queen has requested your company,” the Infracti says to you, tone cold. He’s probably still pissed that you escaped the other night. 

You look down at yourself - you’re in sweatpants and a t-shirt, feet in fuzzy socks. 

“Can I, uh… get changed first?” you ask, gulping.

The Infracti man looks over you, lip curling just a touch. “I would recommend that, yes,” he says flatly. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “Please wait for me outside. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

“Do be quick,” he says, casting you a sharp side-eye as he turns to return to the corridor. 

Namjoon looks up at you. “Do you think she wants both of us?”

You let out a wild laugh, anxiety already starting to worm its way through your system. “I don’t care if she doesn’t,” you say. “Please come with me. She scares me.”

Namjoon smiles at this. “I’d be honored,” he jokes, and heads to his room to - you assume - get more presentable as well.

You hurry to change, choosing something that you hope toes the correct side of the fancy-or-professional line. Once you’re done, you meet Namjoon back in the main room. 

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod. He lets you lead the way into the hall, and Dansoo leads you both deep into the palace into a wing you haven’t seen before. 

You notice something you haven’t seen before in your time in Infracticus - as you get further and further down this particular corridor… it gets brighter, sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows on the doors at the end of the hall. 

“Are we going outside?” you ask, peering over the Infracti’s shoulder, trying to peek through the more opaque pieces of glass. 

You’ve read about the physical characteristics of Infracticus, written papers about them, given lectures about them. But nothing prepares you for the momentarily blinding brightness of unfiltered sunshine, or the sudden melody of birdsong as you step out of the palace into Infracticus proper. 

Your trip to the ocean’s edge last night doesn’t count; it was too dark to see a thing. Now, in bright sunlight, you’re breathless, taking in the beauty around you.

You must have come out the opposite side of the palace, because the ocean isn’t visible, nor does it even smell particularly salty here. Instead, a mountain looms to your left, the summit cut off from view by sandstone palace walls. Trees line a distant stream that runs nearly black, like ink. And the sky - the sky ranges from periwinkle to deep violet. 

A light laugh breaks you from your reverie and you feel your face heat in embarrassment. The stone pathway you stand on ends before you with a roofed gazebo that seems to jut out over the valley below. Seated at the table, the Queen has been watching you stand in frozen wonder, staring in awe at the sky she has known for over a thousand years. 

“God,” Namjoon mutters beside you, and you know he’s feeling the same thing you are.

It’s beautiful, you mean to say. Instead, you utter, “It’s purple.”

“I remember my first time going above,” she tells you, as you remember your feet and make your way closer. You can’t keep your eyes off the sky for more than a second. You feel like you’re inside a painting. “I felt the same way about the blue.”

“I read so much about it,” you tell her. “But nothing could describe this.”

“It pleases me that you find beauty in Infracticus,” she says. 

“It’d be impossible not to find beauty here,” you breathe, turning further still to try and see more. “Could I go out there? With the prince, maybe? Do you think he’d take me, if I asked?”

The Queen purses her lips and says, “I imagine after you break the curse for him, the prince would do nearly anything you asked of him.”

This reminder of your purpose here sobers you. You find yourself forgetting, yet again, that you aren’t here just to experience Infracticus.  

“Please join me, both of you,” the Queen says, opening a hand towards the empty chair across from her. There are a variety of pastries and fruits on the table, and you can tell that a small section of them aren’t bloodfood, but human food. There’s also a set of some sort of chess-like board game, the pieces intricately carved like tiny works of careful art. “My son said you were eager to see more of Infracticus. I thought it might help ease your restlessness to come outside. These are my private quarters, so no one will stumble upon us here.”

Prince Taehyung had said he wouldn’t tell on you; he must have mentioned that you were wanting to look around. Hopefully he left out that you’d tried, and been caught.

“Have you played before?” she asks, watching as you delicately take the seat she’d offered and pick up a piece to examine it. 

Namjoon shakes his head, peering closer. “It’s not chess?” he asks, eyeing the different pieces for differences.

“I’ve played, but only with humans,” you tell her, turning the piece over in your hands. “It’s similar to chess, but the pieces and their movements are different.”

“Would you join me for a game?” she asks lightly. 

You look at her over the top of the piece in your hand. If you’re right, and you aren’t completely sure, the piece is called the Seer. Behind it, the Queen watches you. Her eyes are inhuman, all black, and you find them hard to read. Her mouth quirks like she’s considering a smile, but you can’t discern if there is any true warmth behind it. 

She’s beautiful. She’s frightening. 

“Yes, of course,” you answer. “But you may need to help remind me of the rules.”

She gives a slightly bigger smile and begins to set the board up, and you replace the Seer where you think it goes. She gives you a pleased nod.

“I know it’s only been a day, but I wanted to inquire about your progress,” she tells you as she places the last piece, the single Bloodletter, on its spot. 

She moves her first piece and sits back, waiting for your answer to both her question and her movement. 

“We’ve identified many strands of the original curse,” you tell her, turning your shoulders to indicate inclusion of Namjoon, who sits in the chair beside you, watching the game board intently. It wouldn’t surprise you if he knew the rules by heart at the end of one game. “But certainly not all of them.”

You move a Mason piece, and then add, “There’s more we need to investigate. I need to spend more time with the prince, and perhaps run a few rituals to suss out what we can’t find through questioning.” 

The Queen accepts this, nodding, and the game continues, pieces beginning to fill the middle space of the board. She asks a few follow-up questions about the threads you’ve determined, about what might help you discover the rest.

You don’t want to go over the prince’s head to his mother, even though you firmly believe that seeing him while the curse is active will be paramount to your work. You’d rather change his mind yourself, rather than risk making him upset with you. 

You eye the board as you answer, weighing your options. You could move a Mortal, which would be a very safe movement and wouldn’t earn you much. You could let your Mason take a hit, which would open a path for your Seer. Or, you could take on the Bloodletter with your Priestess - which would give you a clear and unblockable shot at taking the Queen’s Thief. 

Do you dare actually take one of her pieces, before she’s taken one of yours? It wouldn’t win you the game, but it would certainly make this an actual competition. 

“I see the move you see,” she says evenly, her voice cool and still. “If I wanted to win without a challenge, I’d simply play against my staff.”

You smile at this, caught. “As you wish,” you tell her, and the Priestess takes the Bloodletter, the piece being placed to the side of the board, belonging to both and neither of you. On your next turn, as you’d arranged, you reach to take her Thief. 

The piece burns your fingers and nearly slips from your grasp as you jolt with surprise and pain; you sit forward in your seat and use both hands to catch the piece before it can hit the board and scatter the others. 

Cradled between your hands, the Thief glows - brighter and brighter, the color starting out orange and shifting quickly to yellow and then blue. It no longer burns where it touches you, but you set it down gently anyway, your hands starting to shake. 

The fingers that were burnt seem to pulse, the pain stabbing and unrelenting. You hold up the hand that stings, eyeing your injured fingertips, looking for evidence of the burn. There is none, but the smarting continues, keeping time with your quickened heartbeat. The blue light fades from the Thief as it lays still and unassuming, sideways on the tabletop. 

You do not reach for it again.

Behind you, Namjoon whispers your name. You don’t turn, instead locking your eyes on the Queen, whose face stays as impassive and unreadable as ever. 

“I would really like,” you say, your voice low and trembling, an animal caught in a trap for the second time in as many days, “to know what just happened to me.”

The Queen lazily lifts her hand and an Infracti woman appears at her side. “Fetch my son, would you?” she says, and then reaches to move one of her Mortals as if nothing had happened. 

When you don’t take your turn, she looks at you with those fathomless black eyes. “Does it still hurt?” she asks innocently. 

It does, but less than at first. Mostly, you’re suddenly terrified, hands still shaking so badly you don’t think you could grasp another game piece without dropping it. You’re reminded that you are alone here - that you cannot and should not completely trust a single Infracti, that every single one of them sees you as dinner to be toyed with before eating.

You should have known the game was more than a game. You should have known a request for your company was anything but.

“That was a magical reaction,” you say bluntly, feeling something harden behind your ribcage, armor sliding into place and latches snapping shut. “I’m very curious as to the specifics.”

Beside you, Namjoon has shifted into your line of sight, in your periphery. You can’t afford to turn and meet his eyes right now. You can’t afford to look frightened. 

The Queen is spared from answering you as Prince Taehyung strides up the walkway, brow furrowed. 

He takes in the scene in seconds - Namjoon’s hand hovering near you, alarmed like a mother hen; the Queen’s expression gone defensively haughty; and you - clutching your burned fingers, trying to fight against the frightened tears that threaten to give away your terror. 

He lets out an exasperated growl. “Mother,” he scolds, and then drops to kneel beside your seat. “May I heal that?” he asks you, expression open and apologetic. Your stupid heart dares to flutter - weakly, but there. The little ways he cares for you are enough to make you forget that he’s royalty - plus, inhuman.

It’s easier to forget when he’s made his eyes look human again today, as he had yesterday and the day before.

You nod mutely, letting him take your hand in his. He passes his thumb over the pad of each burned fingertip, and you feel the sting of the burn slip away, as you had imagined the whole thing.

“Thank you,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on him. His presence tethers you, is the only thing that allows you to feel safe. You want to hide behind him, make him stand between you and every scary thing here.

He stands again, but keeps your hand lightly in his own. He faces his mother, frowning again. “Well?” he demands. “Did you get the answer you wanted?”

The Queen sets her jaw in response.

Prince Taehyung scoffs and continues. “Do remember, Mother, that our guest could decide she doesn’t want to be here anymore. She could go right back to the human world and never look back. I certainly don’t want that - do you?”

You know he means for the sake of breaking the curse, but you can’t help but feel a rush of… something - gratitude? pleasure? - at his words.

“Come,” he says to you, giving your hand a light tug. “Mother’s played enough games for the day.”

You follow immediately, hearing the heavy steps behind you to indicate that Namjoon isn’t far behind. As Prince Taehyung nears the doors that lead back inside the palace, the Queen calls after him.

“It turned blue, Taehyung,” the Queen’s voice calls. “Almost instantly.”

Prince Taehyung doesn’t indicate that he’s heard, doesn’t even turn his head. He simply leads you inside without looking back.

In the safety of the palace, you feel yourself calming, no longer feeling like the Queen is simply playing with her food - with you. 

Prince Taehyung doesn’t speak to you until he’s led you both in your own main room, latching the door shut behind Namjoon, who takes up the rear.

He sighs apologetically, his head hanging a little. “I cannot seem to keep you out of trouble,” he laments.

“Was I supposed to refuse her request?” you say hotly, feeling suddenly defensive.

“Of course not,” he soothes. “I’m sorry my mother tried to scare you half to death. Is the pain gone? Are you better?”

“I feel better,” you tell him. “But… what did she do? What does that mean, it turned blue?”

He shakes his head, frustrated. “That’s an indicator of your magical quotient,” he explains. He’s frowning deeply, and your mind is whirring fast trying to fit pieces of information together. “She was… measuring your ability. Blue is… well, it’s quite high.”

Beside you, Namjoon makes a strangled noise, like he’s choked on his own breath.

He’s done the math faster than you.

“My magical quotient?” you repeat. “But I’m human. My magical quotient is zero, unless I’m casting - and that’s borrowed magic.”

“A human,” Namjoon murmurs to you, shifting protectively closer, “would have held nothing but a wooden game piece. There would have been no glow at all.”

Your eyes dart around the room for answers that aren’t there. Your head spins. You can’t even begin to process this - that you may be inherently magical - because still pressing is the question:

“Why did she want to know that?” you ask, your voice a bit like a gasp. Both men in the room are looking at you carefully. You’re a wild animal in a trap again. Again. 

You want to go home, you want it to stop. You want to feel safe, and you haven’t since the Infracti two days ago had cornered you at the top of the stairs. 

“I don’t know,” the prince admits, twisting his mouth to the side. “But I assure you, I know my mother well. Her intentions would not be to hurt you, or to frighten you. Even though it seems she did both.”

You shake your head, overwhelmed. “My parents were human,” you whisper. “What does this mean? Am I a -?”

You can’t make yourself say witch. This is too much. It’s too much.

Prince Taehyung reaches out a hand like he wants to comfort you, but thinks better of it and lets it rest at his own side again. “It happens that way sometimes,” he says gently. “You really didn’t know?”

You turn and look at Namjoon a little wildly. 

“Don’t look at me,” he laughs, holding up his hands. “I just met you.”

“Dr. Kim?” you press. “He never -?”

“If he had suspicions, he never told me,” Namjoon tells you seriously. “Though it does explain your… aptitude.” 

Something inside you feels like it’s sinking. “I thought I was just… well-studied,” you admit to no one. You feel weirdly like you’re grieving - like you’ve lost something instead of gained it.

You feel wilder still, less calm by the second. You need to get away from them both - their gazes too heavy. 

The prince shifts his weight uneasily. “I have to leave you now,” he says, and he sounds regretful. “But I’ll come check on you - rather, on your progress - after the court families leave this evening.”

He waits; you don’t reply. You’re reeling too fast - you can’t fake normalcy, not right now.

“That’s fine,” Namjoon says, looking sideways at you cautiously, like he’s waiting for you to explode. “We’ll try to get some work done this afternoon.”

Prince Taehyung nods in thanks and heads for the door. Before pulling it shut, he pauses, and somehow his eyes meet yours. The look he gives you borders on pitying, but stops shy of it. Instead, you read something understanding and sorrowful, like he’d rather stay. You wish he would.

“I’ll check on you later,” he repeats softly, just for you. 

You manage to nod. The door closes.

Namjoon looks from the door to you and then back again, like he’s starting to put pieces together of a puzzle you didn’t know you were part of.

“I think I need to be by myself for a little bit,” you manage to say, your voice flat and hollow even to your own ears. You close yourself in your own bedroom, change robotically into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, climb onto your bed and roll to face the wall.

You’re feeling so much - too much, all contradictory and all overpowering and none of it mixing well together. You’re been foolish here, and you’re embarrassed. You feel unsafe. You feel afraid. You feel angry. You feel doubtful about the curse. You feel doubtful about your partnership with Namjoon. You still, despite everything that’s happened, feel eagerness to experience more of this place. You feel excitement at spending more time with Prince Taehyung, which is the stupidest part of all of this. You feel idiotic that you hadn’t known you have your own magic for almost thirty years. You feel bereft that what you’d thought was grit and hard work was actually unearned, inherent ability. You feel grief at losing your humanity.

It’s too much, and you’re a simple creature. It all furrows into one thought, and you repeat it to yourself over and over as your blue-grey walls blur before you: I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home.

You repeat it until, eyes puffy and nose stuffy, you drop helplessly into sleep.

—

When Taehyung enters the dining room, where his parents are already seated, it is with the energy of a stormcloud descending on a picnic. His father seems downright jolly, bristling with good cheer as Taehyung stalks his way towards them, scowling.

“Whatever are you so worked up about?” The Queen asks, peering carefully at him, as if she herself hadn’t just tried to scare away his best chance of a cure.

“The stunt you pulled this afternoon,” Taehyung says honestly, leaning his long legs against the sturdy wooden table and eyeing them both, arms crossed over his chest. He addresses his father, asking, “Did she tell you? That she tried to send the curse-breaker running? What would the plan be, if she left? I’d stay like this forever?”

They both ignore most of this outburst, exchanging a mildly amused look. Taehyung’s irritation digs its teeth in a little harder, pushes him closer to snapping.

“Well?” he demands.

“Your mother told me she tested the girl’s magical quotient,” the King admits, still smiling slyly at his wife. “Did she tell you? It glowed blue?”

“Who cares?” Taehyung bites out. “Beyond that she can use her innate magical abilities to cure me, which is all I care about.”

“That’s just the problem,” the Queen says with a sigh. “You’re failing to see the bigger picture, as usual, my dear.”

Taehyung grits his teeth. Six hundred years of their bullshit have been too many. “Enlighten me then,” he growls. 

The King raises an eyebrow, looks at him appraisingly. “Do you think I forgot about our little deal?”

Our little deal. As if it was just a laugh, to him. 

Taehyung finds himself scowling again. “Of course not. But I did think we could afford to shift our focus just a bit until the curse is broken.”

Their little deal, to Taehyung, was anything but little. And his side of the bargain, his price to pay, was to start meeting suitors, and to give them a fair shot. 

And he had - suitor after suitor, some human but most Infracti, some common but most from court, some clever or funny but most just… lacking. 

“You promised to give her a chance,” the King had complained when Taehyung had refused to meet one particular Infracti for a second date. 

“I am,” Taehyung had groused, aggravated but trapped. “Pick a better selection, that’s all I can tell you.”

“You need to think more like a prince and less like a -” 

Well, Taehyung doesn’t need to remember the rest of that sentence. It wasn’t very kingly. 

“What exactly does that mean?” Taehyung had challenged. It was a dangerous game, pushing back against his father. If their agreement crumbled, there was an awful lot at stake. He’s got to remember that this game affects more than himself and his pride.

“Think more about what she can do for the bloodline and less about if she gives you butterflies,” the King had snapped, eyes narrowed. Taehyung had slammed the door on his way out that day. 

“I believe we were shifting focus,” the Queen says, something softer in her tone, finally. “But I saw you two together, and wondered…”

Taehyung bristles, feeling weirdly protective of the little witch (apparently) who’d been brought here to fix him. “You saw us together and wondered what else you could get from her?”

The King laughs. “What are you angry for? We were curious about her - couldn’t you feel her magic?”

Taehyung grimaces. At first, he couldn’t. For your entire first meeting, he hadn’t felt a thing. 

He’d felt it, finally, when he’d found you in danger. You hadn’t thought to use it, but your magic had been screaming, so loudly that Taehyung had heard it before he could hear your heart beating. In your distress, your magical signature had risen to the surface, singing just under your skin, summoned by and answering the magic that was inherent in him, in all Infracti. They knew each other, these two magics, and they called like-to-like.

He’d known it was strong. He hadn’t known what to do with it, so he’d ignored it, had put the information away for another time.

It hadn’t occurred to him that others - his parents especially - might notice, might have their own questions they wanted answers to.

“I felt it,” he admits, voice low and defensive. 

“She has the potential to be quite powerful, if she learned. Imagine adding that kind of raw ability to our bloodline,” the King says, serious for the first time. 

Taehyung doesn’t answer. He’s busy remembering his deal with his father, his agreement to marry - for the sake of the bloodline. 

He’s thinking about all the suitors he hadn’t cared about at all. 

He’s thinking of waking up morning after morning exhausted, his muscles weak from hours of throwing his poor, battered body against the door, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep, his throat raw from growling like the animal he is, deep down. 

He’s thinking about the look of relief you’d sent him when you spotted him behind your attacker, and again when he’d appeared at the veranda this afternoon. Like you trust him, like you knew even if everyone else was a danger, he wasn’t. Like you believed in him, and no one else, to be more than a monster. Lately, he’s felt like the monster is winning, and being seen as more feels… as necessary as oxygen. 

“Of course we want her to end the curse above all else,” the Queen says gently, watching her son’s eyes go unfocused as he loses himself in his thoughts. “But when that’s done… maybe her time in Infracticus doesn’t need to be. Consider it.”

“I’m considering,” Taehyung concedes, moving to take his seat. The King beams, but Taehyung talks over him. “But you two need to watch your step with her. If you scare her away, she won’t end the curse - and then no one will marry me.”

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thank you for reading!!! <3

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts supernatural au #bts royal au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung angst #supernatural au #royal au #s2l #magic au #fic: of ruin

[nobodys-saviour]

timeline but only from Earth. no myths. Because I'm not that insane to include them yet. you would have to make me drunk, first

speculations/unsure things will be marked with an asterisk (*)

edit: this is outdated

1749

Lizio Auctions was founded (Life, Lizio Auctions)

1834

the backtrackers, composed of people from Philos (including, but not limited to Xavier, Jeremiah, and Isaiah) crash into Earth's past, looking for the Aether Core that can save their planet (and subsequently, Xavier's MC). they find that they cannot return to Philos. (Main Story, Chapter 8. Xavier's character intro video/PV)

2021

Zayne is born (based on his age on the profile)

2024

Rafayel is supposedly born (based on his in-game profile + interview)*

2025

Xavier's fake ass birth year (based on his interview)

2027

MC's prospective birth year* — MC said she and caleb 1) were adopted after the chronorift Catastrophe and 2) she was 7yo when she was adopted (Characters, Josephine)

2032

Spring - Xavier is assigned to Evol Special Police Task Force 013 as No. ST-1101. (Xavier's Anecdote 2)

2033

- Three days after new year: "Noah" (probably actually Jeremiah, there were just translation errors) visits Xavier

- Xavier saves a little girl with a bunny plushie. possibly 6 yr old MC.

- Xavier "dies" in a fire

(Xavier, Anecdote 2,)

2034

- opening of deepspace tunnel, first wanderer attack. Referred to as "Chronorift Catastrophe" (Message, Deepspace Tunnel)

- Xavier as "Lumiere" saves people, including MC (Tale, Lumiere. Main Story, Chapter 6)

- first appearance of lumerian ruins (Tale, Lemuria)

- adoption of MC (7yo) and Caleb by Grandma Josephine (Characters, Josephine)

- experiments on MC (Chapter 4)

- N109 zone starts to be rife with illegal stuff (Tale, N109 Zone)

2034-2047

- Grandma Josephine, Caleb, and MC are family friends with Zayne's family. They often eat out together (Bond, A Frozen Promise)

- Zayne's EVOL gets unstable, attacked a childhood friend by accident, possibly MC. (Main story, chapter 5)

- Zayne leaves all of a sudden, going no contact. They don't see each other again for more than a decade. (Main Story, Chapter 1 and 5)

- (2045) Xavier visits the officer tombstone. Meets his former captain, Captain Arthur (Xavier, Anecdote 2)

- Zayne graduates early from medical school (Tender Moments, Delicacy)

- Becomes an army medic. Mercy killed his senior, William. (Zayne, Anecdote 2)

- Events of Rafayel's Anecdote 3, Phantom of the Siren. He goes by ship to Linkon City by the end of it (Rafayel, Anecdote 3)

- MC's reunion with Zayne, half a year before the main story starts (Main story, chapter 1)

2048

- main story

Far future*

- Linkon city is not what it once was

- protocores are revealed to be harmful, and turns people into Wanderers

(Zayne anecdote 3)

Even further into the future

- Earth's core dies.

(Xavier, Anecdote 3)

More more more future

- they replace the earth's core which in turn makes it into a "new" planet

(Xavier, Anecdote 3)

#love and deepspace

[razzlerdazzler]

hi! can I request a little mermaid inspired au for Jack Frost and reader? kinda like where y/n is ariel and she could be a human interested in the mythical world as a subversion?

Jack Frost X Reader/ Little Mermaid AU

You two first met while you were in human form

He was pleasantly surprised when you noticed him, happy that you were a believer and that you could actually see him

However that happiness quickly turned into shock and worry when you jumped into the water

He was about to go in after you until you poked your head out of the water and a big, beautiful mermaid tail followed

After that encounter, you both quickly bonded and became fast friends, and soon started dating

He loves listening to you rant and talk about myths and folk tales

whenever you talk about your passion he's just staring at you with a lovesick smile on his face

He tells you about different spirits he's met that sound similar or are actually the characters from the folk tales or myths that you talk about

He even introduces you to Jamie and loves watching you both geek out over myths and different folk tales

He introduces you to the rest of the guardians, who are all very surprised and happy to meet you

He thinks its super cool that you have two different forms and always compliments you and tells you how amazing you are

Whenever you're in mermaid form he likes to admire your tail and scales

If you can sing then he loves to listen to you and always compliments you on how beautiful you sound

He also likes to lay his head in your lap while you hum or sing to him

He tells you about his sister and about how he died in a frozen lake

He also tells you about his experiences as a spirit and a guardian

He likes to call you nicknames related to your powers

He likes to watch you swim around and watch you do tricks in the water with your tail

Sometimes he splashes you, causing your big tail to splash him back, leaving him completely soaked

He likes to go ice skating with you and feels safe knowing that if anything happens while you're out ice skating then at least you'll be okay if the ice ever breaks

He likes to cuddle with you a lot, it doesn't matter whether you're in your mermaid form or not

He just wants to show you how much he appreciates and loves you

I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this done. I hope I did your request justice. I wasn't sure whether you wanted headcanons or a story, so I decided to do this. If you ever want a story of this, please feel free to message me or send a request. Also please feel free to send any other requests you have if you want to. Sorry again for taking so long, I hope you like it :)

#jack frost x reader #rise of the guardians x reader #rotg x reader #rise of the guardians