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nunununuy · 6 days ago

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Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Main Character Prince x NPC Fem Reader

Tittle: "Awakening in a World of Survival: The Prince's Fate"

Leonhart leaned against the headboard, lost in thought. The room was quiet, occasionally interrupted by the soft rustling of curtains swaying in the breeze from the large window. His mind raced as he tried to piece together the sequence of events that would unfold in this world. Seven years might seem like a long time, but with the impending disaster, every moment was precious.

His thoughts returned to (name), the NPC he admired greatly. In the game, she was a side character—someone important to the storyline but not eligible as a true love interest. She lived in a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom, renowned for her skills in potion-making and healing magic. Leonhart had always admired her character for her kindness and strength, even though the game never allowed him to pursue (name) romantically. However, now, with seemingly no game rules, all possibilities were open.

"I have to find her," he murmured to himself. "I can't wait for the story to take me there. I need to seek her out on my own terms."

Leonhart swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He felt stronger now, even though his body was still adjusting to the new environment and identity. He could feel the weight of responsibility pressing on him, but also the freedom that came with it. If he could start early in gathering the necessary artifacts, perhaps he could prevent the worst disaster from happening.

He recalled the memories of the original Leonhart, still fresh in his mind. The royal family seemed unaware of the impending doom. For them, life was peaceful, and their only concern was expanding their small but prosperous kingdom. They had no idea that in a few years, the world would be on the brink of destruction.

Leonhart stepped toward the mirror again, still a bit unsettled by the reflection he didn't recognize. The silver hair, sharp blue eyes, and tall stature made him look like a true prince, yet he still felt like a stranger in this body.

"Alright," he murmured, "if I want to survive and change this world, I need to start making plans."

As he was sorting through his thoughts, there was a knock on the door. A young maid entered, bowing deeply. "Your Highness, the king and queen request that you join them for dinner tonight if you feel well enough."

Leonhart hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure how much he could reveal to his parents, at least not yet. They still believed he was the same Leonhart who grew up in the palace, their only son who had just survived a drowning accident. He needed to act cautiously, or they might suspect something was wrong.

"Tell them I will join," he said, giving the maid a slight nod.

After she left, Leonhart began formulating his next steps. He needed to maintain the appearance of the perfect prince for a while, but behind the scenes, he had to start his mission. The first step was quite simple: to go to the outskirts of the kingdom where (name) lived. From there, he could begin building connections and resources. If he could convince (name) to join him early on, it would give him a significant advantage—not just in battle but in every aspect of the upcoming journey.

He knew that obtaining the Azure Eternis ring was still a long way off, but it was the key to everything. In the game, the ring was tied to the destiny of the main character and their chosen love. But Leonhart was determined to change that. He would ensure (name) was the one to receive it, no matter what.

That evening, Leonhart sat at the royal dining table, surrounded by lavish dishes and elegant decor. The king and queen watched him closely, concern still evident in their eyes, but they seemed relieved to see their son behaving normally.

"Leonhart," the king began, "how do you feel now? We were very worried after what happened at the river."

Leonhart put on his best princely smile. "I feel much better, Father. The rest was very helpful."

The queen leaned forward, her eyes soft yet still filled with worry. "We are so relieved. You must be careful in the future, dear. Rivers can be dangerous, and we cannot lose you."

"I understand, Mother," Leonhart replied gently. "I will be more careful."

They continued to eat in silence, the royal family still recovering from the fright of almost losing their sole heir. However, Leonhart remained focused on his plans. He had to maintain this balance, pretending to be their beloved son while preparing for the storm ahead.

After dinner, Leonhart returned to his room. As he sat at the table by the window, gazing out at the peaceful kingdom scenery, he knew that this tranquility wouldn't last long. There was still much to learn, and many challenges to face. But first, he would find (name), and from there, he would begin his journey to change the fate of this world.

Time continued to pass, and Leonhart would not waste it.

***

The next morning, Leonhart woke up early, with a single goal in mind—to find (name). He had to meet her as soon as possible, to see if she was still the same as he remembered from the game and to start executing his plans. However, before he could leave, he knew he had to ask his parents for permission. As much as he wanted to go unnoticed, sneaking out was not an option.

He dressed in his noble attire and walked toward the royal dining hall, where his parents were enjoying breakfast. As he had anticipated, when Leon expressed his desire to leave the palace and visit the nearby village, the king and queen initially refused.

"But Leonhart," said the queen, her voice filled with concern, "you just recovered from a terrible accident. You should rest more. What if something happens again?"

Leon remained calm, giving her a reassuring smile. "Mother, I feel much better now. I've been cooped up in my room for too long. I just need some fresh air, maybe a short trip outside the city. I promise to be careful."

The king observed him closely, furrowing his brow slightly but sensing his son's determination. "I understand your desire to go, but your health is still our concern, Leonhart. We cannot risk you overexerting yourself."

"Father, I will be fine. I won't go far, and I will be accompanied by a maid and some knights for protection. Please," Leon said, his tone slightly stubborn. "Just a short trip."

After a moment of hesitation and shared glances between the king and queen, they finally relented. The queen sighed gently, unable to deny her only child. "Very well, but only if you promise to take your escort. You must not go alone, Leonhart. You must be careful."

Leon nodded gratefully. "Of course, Mother. I will be cautious."

With their approval, Leon quickly prepared for his journey. He requested a small escort, including a maid and several knights, but made sure it was not too conspicuous. He didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention on his first visit to the village where (name) lived.

As he stepped into the royal carriage, Leon looked out at the bustling city beyond the palace walls. The streets were alive with activity, merchants hawking their goods, children playing in the streets, and nobles preoccupied with their affairs. Everything was just as he remembered from the game—even the large clock tower standing proudly in the town center.

As the carriage rolled through the city, Leon felt an odd sense of wonder and disbelief. He had played this game for hours, navigating these streets virtually, but now he was truly here. This world was no longer just pixels on a screen—it was real. He could smell the fresh bread from the bakery, hear the laughter of townspeople, and feel the gentle sway of the carriage as it moved over the cobbled streets.

After passing through the city gates, the scenery began to change. The roads became less crowded, lined with trees and open fields. Soon, in the distance, Leon spotted a small and simple village—the village where (name) lived. His heart raced a little faster as they drew nearer, his anticipation mounting.

The village was humble, situated just outside the capital. Though not as grand or bustling as the city, it had its own charm. Thatched-roof houses lined the narrow streets, with villagers busy with their daily routines. The sounds of children playing and animals in the distance filled the air, creating a peaceful and almost idyllic atmosphere. This was exactly as Leon remembered from the game.

As the carriage slowed near the village entrance, Leon took a deep breath. This was the beginning of his journey—not just as a prince, but as someone determined to change the fate of this world.

"Let’s go," Leon murmured to himself, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Soon, he would see (name), the girl who had captured his heart even in a world that was once just a game. Now, everything felt real. And in this reality, he would ensure things went differently.

***

Leon’s carriage stopped just outside the village, as instructed. He didn’t want to draw attention by entering the quiet settlement in a flashy way. His goal wasn’t the village itself but the forest nearby. He knew (name) often wandered near the edge of the forest to gather herbs and vegetables, which were important for both medicine and her daily meals.

How did Leon know this? Because in the game, (name) herself had told the protagonist. As the player got closer to her, a dialogue option would open up, allowing the protagonist to ask about her past. (name) shared that she lived with her grandmother, a renowned herbalist in the village, after her parents died when she was very young. Her grandmother raised her, teaching her everything about medicine. Together, they made potions for the villagers, often without expecting payment, especially when the villagers were too poor to afford them. (name) kindness and dedication to helping others always touched Leon's heart while playing the game, and that was one of the reasons he was so drawn to her.

Leon stepped down from the carriage, followed by his small entourage, but he quickly dismissed most of them. He wanted to approach (name) quietly and without too much fuss. “Stay here,” he commanded the knights. “I’ll just go a little way into the forest. Don’t follow unless I call for you.”

The knights exchanged worried glances but obeyed his orders. They were uncomfortable leaving the prince out of their sight, but Leon’s determination was unshakable. However, his servant remained close, and Leon accepted this compromise for the time being. He knew he had to play the role of a compliant prince, at least until he gained more freedom in his new world.

Walking along the dirt path toward the forest, Leon’s thoughts raced. He replayed (name) dialogue in his head, remembering the quiet sorrow in her voice when she spoke about her grandmother and how they struggled together after her parents' deaths. In the game, these moments were depicted in text and voice, but now, everything felt much more real.

The trees towered before him, thick and lush, with sunlight streaming through the canopy above. As he neared the forest’s edge, Leon signaled for his servant to stop. “Wait here. I’ll go a little further and see forest a bit.”

His servant hesitated for a moment but nodded. Leon walked deeper into the forest, the sounds of the village fading behind him. His heartbeat quickened, knowing that (name) might be nearby, just as he had often imagined while playing the game.

Soon, he spotted a figure in the distance, bent over a patch of wild herbs. His heart leaped at the sight—(name) . She looked exactly as he had imagined, perhaps even more enchanting. Her (hair length and colour) flowed down her back, and the simple, handmade dress she wore brushed the forest floor as she gracefully moved among the underbrush, skillfully gathering herbs and placing them in a woven basket beside her.

Leon took a deep breath. This was the moment he had dreamed of. But now, standing here in this reality, his confidence wavered slightly. Would she be the same as in the game? Would she accept him, or would she see him only as a distant, untouchable royal?

Slowly, Leon stepped forward, careful not to startle her. “Excuse me,” he called, his voice soft yet intentionally audible.

(name) turned, her eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, she seemed unsure how to react to the sudden appearance of a stranger in the forest, but her expression soon softened. “Oh, hello,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t expect to meet anyone out here.”

Leon smiled warmly, though he could feel a small tension in his chest. “I was taking a walk and saw you gathering herbs. You must be very skilled at this.”

(name) offered a small, simple smile. “Maybe. My grandmother taught me everything.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Are you from the town? I don’t recognize you.”

Leon chuckled lightly, knowing that (name) wouldn’t immediately recognize him as the prince—after all, he hadn’t visited the village in the game’s storyline until much later. “You could say that,” he replied, sidestepping the truth for now. “I’m just passing through and thought I’d explore the forest.”

(name) expression remained friendly yet curious. “It’s a great place to gather materials. My grandmother and I often come here.” She gestured to her basket, which was already half-full with various plants. “We make potions for the villagers. Many can’t afford the medicines sold in town, so we help as much as we can.”

Leon felt a familiar warmth in his chest as (name) spoke. This was the (name) he knew—someone who cared so much for others, even when she herself didn’t have much. He had always admired her for this, and now, standing before her in this real world, his admiration only grew.

“I think what you and your grandmother do is amazing,” Leon said, his voice sincere.

(name) blushed slightly at the compliment, lowering her gaze toward her basket. “We’re just doing what we can. There’s a lot of need in the village.”

For a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being those of the forest around them. Leon wanted to say more, to tell her he had come here specifically to meet her, but he knew it wasn’t the right time to reveal everything. For now, he was content just to be near her, watching her work and listening to her voice.

“Would you like some help?” Leon asked, gesturing to her basket. “I may not be as skilled as you, but I can learn.”

Elara looked at him, surprised by the offer. “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” Leon said with a smile. “I’m offering.”

She hesitated for a moment, then smiled back. “Alright, if you’re sure. I could use an extra hand.”

And just like that, Leon knelt beside her, helping gather the herbs she needed. Though it wasn’t much, it was the beginning of something significant—a relationship that transcended the boundaries of the game he had once played. Here, in this world, he had the chance to build a real connection, and he wouldn’t let that opportunity slip away.

As they worked together in the tranquil forest, Leon felt more at peace than he had since waking up in this world. He was finally where he belonged, with the person he had always wanted to meet.

***

Leonhart stood tall before (name), his height inherited from his father making him appear larger even though Elara was considered quite tall for her age. They were actually the same age, but Leon’s presence made him seem more mature, more intimidating. Yet his demeanor remained gentle and friendly, in stark contrast to his authoritative appearance as a nobleman.

(name), on the other hand, was a quiet and somewhat shy girl, often overlooked by the villagers. Most girls her age preferred to spend their time discussing the latest trends in the town or gossiping about the boys they liked. However, (name) had no interest in such things. Her days were filled with responsibilities—gathering herbs, tending to the garden, and helping her elderly grandmother prepare medicines for the villagers. Her busyness, combined with her disinterest in the topics deemed trivial by her peers, often made her feel isolated. Although the other girls in the village were polite, their conversations with (name) were always brief and shallow.

So when Leon greeted her so warmly and without hesitation, (name) was taken aback. She wasn’t used to boys her age showing interest in her, let alone casually chatting with her while offering help. Most boys in the village preferred to speak with the cheerful, well-dressed girls who drew everyone’s attention. In contrast, (name) was quieter and didn’t care to dress up or follow the latest fashion trends. Her face was often considered ordinary by those who compared her to the other girls, but Leon saw something different—a quiet beauty, a hidden strength behind her appearance.

At first, (name) was confused by Leon’s approach. Why would someone like him want to talk to her? Leon didn’t seem like the average village boy, and his confident yet friendly demeanor surprised her. However, as time passed, she couldn’t help but feel a warm sensation in her chest. There was something calming about Leon’s presence, something that made her happy, even though she didn’t fully understand why.

Though they had just met, (name) felt herself trusting Leon. His genuine curiosity and kindness melted her heart. As they worked side by side gathering herbs and vegetables, Leon constantly asked questions, his interest in the plants clearly evident. Yet his inexperience was also apparent—more than once, he mistook a weed or useless plant for a valuable herb. (name) chuckled softly at his mistakes and patiently corrected him.

“What about this one?” Leon lifted a handful of green leaves, his brow furrowing in concentration.

(name) stifled a giggle, shaking her head. “No, that’s just a common weed. It does look similar to the herb you’re looking for, but if you pay attention, the leaf shape is slightly different.”

Leon nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Ah, I see. They do look very alike. Good thing you’re here to help me, or I might end up with a basket full of weeds.”

(name) soft laughter warmed the atmosphere between them, and the usual embarrassment she felt slowly faded away. She appreciated Leon’s patience and willingness to learn. Despite the awkwardness, Leon never seemed frustrated, listening attentively to (name) explanations, valuing her knowledge. This was a refreshing change from her usual interactions

Leonhard decided to end their interaction today. He didn’t want to overwhelm or make (name) uncomfortable by insisting on escorting her back to the village. Instead, he chose to maintain a distance, quietly watching from afar to ensure that (name) returned safely. Although they had shared a pleasant time together, Leonhard was careful not to force the situation.

As they prepared to part at the edge of the forest, (name) hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“I just realized… I haven’t asked your name,” she said softly, glancing at Leonhard.

Leonhard smiled warmly. “My name is Leonhard,” he replied, bowing his head slightly. “But you can call me Leon.”

(name) returned the smile, her expression gentle yet slightly shy. “I’m (name). It’s nice to meet you, Leon.”

Leon nodded, feeling satisfied to finally know her name. “Nice to meet you too, (name). I hope we can meet again.”

(name) blushed a little but nodded. “Maybe. I’m usually around here, gathering herbs.”

With that, they exchanged brief farewells, and (name) turned to head back to the village. Leon remained silent, watching her disappear into the distance, his gaze following her retreating figure. There was a subtle connection between them, an unexpected bond, but it was undeniable that it existed.

Leon smiled to himself, feeling a strange happiness. He had moved forward in this new world, not only in his grand plans for the future but in something more personal—something related to (name). Though their meeting was brief, it had left a profound impression on him.

He stayed at the edge of the forest, safely observing as (name) walked back to the village, ensuring she arrived safely before Leon decided to leave. As he returned to the path toward his carriage, his mind continued to be filled with the image of (name). He wondered what she thought of him and whether she felt the same connection.

On the other hand, (name) walked through the village with her thoughts also consumed by the image of Leonhard. There was something different about him—his kindness, curiosity, the way he spoke as if (name) truly mattered. She couldn’t help but wonder when they might meet again.

And so, both Leonhard and (name) carried thoughts of one another as they went their separate ways, unknowingly beginning a bond that would only grow stronger with the passage of time.

***

After Leonhard returned to the palace, his calm footsteps were immediately halted by the worried gazes of the servants and guards waiting in the main hallway. The sky had grown dark, and he knew full well that his late return would surely cause trouble. Indeed, as he stepped into the main hall of the palace, the loud and firm voice of his father, the king, greeted him.

“Leon, do you think you can go off without informing us where you were going and return at your leisure?” the king scolded, his tone reflecting more than just anger. There was a deep concern in his voice. “You have just recovered from a long coma! Your body is not fully healed. What were you thinking, being out until this late?”

Beside the king, the queen also looked at Leonhard with deep concern, her face mirroring his father’s worry. “We were about to send a search party for you. You know we only allowed you to go out because you said you wanted some fresh air, not to wander until dusk without any word.”

Leonhard lowered his head in genuine regret, realizing that their concern was warranted. They had just gone through a great fear when he had been unconscious in a coma for months. He sincerely apologized, his voice soft yet firm, “Forgive me, Father, Mother. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… felt the need to enjoy some time outside. The fresh air made me lose track of time.”

The king and queen exchanged glances, and although their worry wasn’t fully gone, they could sense the sincerity in their son’s words. After a moment of silence, the king finally nodded, though his face still bore traces of irritation. “Alright. We understand that you need time to adjust, but please, don’t repeat this again. Your safety is more important than anything.”

The queen sighed and stepped closer, gently touching Leon’s shoulder. “We just don’t want to lose you again, dear. If you want to go outside, please let us know first.”

Leon nodded, guilt evident on his face. “I understand. I will be more careful in the future.”

After a lengthy reprimand, the king ordered him to clean up before dinner. Leon promptly made his way to his room, and as soon as he arrived, he submerged himself in a warm bath, hoping the warmth of the water would help ease the remaining tension. However, even though his body relaxed, his mind wandered far away, returning to (name) and their conversation in the forest.

(name), a simple yet captivating girl, with her gentle smile and eyes that radiated sincerity. Leon could not ignore the reality that the girl made him feel at ease, something he had struggled to find since awakening in this world. How could their brief meeting leave such a deep impression? His mind was filled with visions of (name), her smile, her voice, even the way she patiently taught him about medicinal plants.

After finishing his bath and donning formal attire, Leon joined his parents in the dining room. Dinner proceeded in a quiet atmosphere, though the tension still lingered. The mood was somewhat more relaxed than when he had first arrived, but Leon could still feel the remaining worry from both of his parents.

After dinner, Leonhard asked for permission to return to his room early. When he finally arrived, he changed into his pajamas and sat on the edge of his bed, allowing his body to lean slightly against the wooden post behind him. Yet, sleepiness did not come. His mind remained filled with thoughts of one person—(name).

Leon pondered how (name) would change in the coming years if everything followed the storyline of the game. In the future, (name), in her twenties, would bear a large scar on her face—one that reflected not only physical suffering but also the emotional burden she would have to bear. This scar would be received when (name) was nineteen, during an attack on their village by monsters unleashed by a traitor within the kingdom. The assault claimed the life of (name) grandmother, the only family she had left.

In the game, the scar was always hidden beneath a hood worn by (name), a symbol of her reluctance to open up to anyone—except to the protagonist, when their relationship grew close enough. Leonhard vividly remembered how in the game, the scar became a turning point for (name), making her more withdrawn and filled with loss. Although the scar never diminished her beauty in Leon's eyes, he knew it brought much suffering into (name) life.

“I won’t let that happen again,” Leon murmured, his voice filled with determination. He lay down on his bed, staring at the intricately carved ceiling of his room. If I can change this storyline, I will protect her.

But how? Leon began to think about the steps he might take to prevent that incident from occurring. What can I do to prevent this betrayal? How can I ensure (name) village remains safe? His thoughts kept spinning, trying to plan for every possibility. This world, though reminiscent of the game he once played, felt far more real now. Every decision he made would impact the fates of those around him, including (name).

As he contemplated, Leon was unaware of when sleepiness finally overtook him. He fell asleep with (name) image still filling his mind—her smile, her voice, and the sincerity that radiated from her. Their meeting in the forest today may have been brief, but for Leon, it was only the beginning of something far greater.

In his dreams, Leon saw (name) once more—but this time, she stood in the gentle sunlight, unscarred, smiling happily. I will protect you, Leon promised in his heart. And with that resolve, his sleep deepened, ready to face whatever challenges awaited him in this world.

---

#oc x reader #x reader #reincarnation #romance #x y/n #x fem reader #x fem!reader #yandere x reader #prince x reader #prince x fem reader #nununuy #transmigration #in game

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fanonical · 7 months ago

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Jamie's Mildly Pretentious Uquiz Adventures - A Masterpost

what is haunting you? you have been asked to rid a place of the thing that has been haunting it. tell me how you prepare, and i will tell you what you find.

which faerie will guide you? You have been invited to a gathering of the Fae, to meet the being who will become your mentor. It is an invitation you have both dreaded and anticipated. Make choices along the path, and I will tell you who waits at the end.

what thing is hunting you? there is something following you. it is time to run. gather what you can, take what roads call to you. there is something following you, and it will not stop until it catches you.

prepare a spell and i will tell you what sort of witch you are lightning strikes outside your door - the witching hour is close at hand. power swirls inside your form, magic strong at your command. enchantments thicken in the air, spells of word and clay and steel. but what is the charm that you shall cast; to help or harm, to hex or heal?

survive a journey through the post-apocalypse and i will tell you who you are long ago, the world came to an end. but you are still here, surviving amid the ruins. and you have a job to do. the road is long and harsh. there is little comfort here. but you will see it through to the bitter end, and discover your role in this strange new world.

try and save the world from the end and i will tell you what kind of hero you are the signs of the end time are nigh. the people flee, frantic, from the destruction that is to come. but there is a hero, one who will emerge in the last gasps of a dying world, to journey beneath the earth and bring forth an artifact that might, the sages say, avert the end times. and that hero is you.

Prepare to meet a vampire, and I will tell you what you find October has dawned crisp and cold. 'Tis the season of the macabre, of the blood-tinged, and you have been waiting for it a long time. This year, you are going to surpass every past Halloween. This year, you are going to find a vampire…and ensure they turn you into one of their kindred.

Travel out to sea and I will tell you your role on a pirate ship The bright sun beats down on the glistening azure waves. All around you, the docks are alive with sound - seamen and stevedores shouting, timber and rope creaking and groaning, the distant screech of a fiddle. You are a pirate, heading to your ship for a day's work. But what kind of pirate are you?

Which god chooses you? The Hall of the Gods has many idols. As an acolyte, you have become familiar with each of their faces. Now, you prepare for your initiation. One of them will accept you as their successor. Perform the rites, survive the trials, call the Divine, and see who answers.

death is coming for you. how will you escape? the end comes for all of us. some accept it, lay down and fade away. some are eager to find out what lies beyond. and some will kick and scream with every last breath. you just have days remaining, but you have a plan. you're going to cheat death. one way or another. you're going to win.

Create a monster, and I will show you your reflection Night has fallen. Lightning crackles in the sky above. It is time for you to create an abomination. But what manner of horror will spring from your hands?

#uquiz #Posting this just to have something to link to

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 11 months ago

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Hello, Can I request RoR x Pokemon? Romantic or Platonic

Human Reader as guardian (or adventurer/ hero/saint/other) figure or similar to the sages (Buddha, Jesus, Confucius, Socrates), for Pokemon Pantheon …

Known for selfless, pure-hearted, friendly, and brave. Can be passive-aggressive or serious when something dangerous happens with Pokemon or closed ones…

You can add this, if you want.

(Reader Has abilities/powers, that she's born w/ or received, and they are;

Pokemon communication/empathy;

psychic/aura-like powers (or similar to the characters from the movies/animes; like, Baraz & Meray's, Damos & Sheena's, Aura Guardian Riley's, and/or others…)

knows to Sing/Play instruments of the songs of the legendary Pokemon; like Lugia's song, Oración, May's Lullaby in Jirachi Movie, Relic song…

has the Legendary artifacts/items, some that summons the legendary pokemon. (ex. Arceus-Azure flute/other.) and some are needed to be guarded. (ex. Eon Duo-Soul dew/other)

Reader's as the one who 1st discover and the gimmicks, such as, Mega Evolution, Z-crystals/Moves, Gigan/dyna -max, Terrasteral/others…)

Whenever Legendary pokemon wants to go out to explore places outside/inside of their region, They want Reader to join them as an escort/guard, they also enjoy each others company, and if they encounter trainer/s that wanted to battle the legendary pokemon, They told Reader to go battle with trainer/s to see if they're okay to battle them, Mostly Reader wons or just they finish it swiftly and disappear…

Whenever a challenger or a threat meet Reader and they explain their reasons (lies and/or honest) and/or challenge Reader to get/met Legendary pokemon, then Reader challenge them to a battle, and Reader always won…

however, if its someone's a bigger threat (ex: Volo, team villains, others), and probably uses force/trick (ex. Ambush/other) to get to the Legendary…

until someone's who are truly worthy (Player, Champions, or others) to challenge Legendary pokemon, they Battle reader and they won then Reader take them to the Legendary pokemon's summoning place but they accept it of couldn't capture it…

What are the reactions/interactions of Reader w/ RoR Characters?

-The Pokemon Pantheon was a relatively new Pantheon, compared to many of the others, but instead of being full of people who earned their place, it was mostly full of Pokemon, all types from normal to legendary Pokemon.

-There were a few humans, trainers and partners of the past who earned their place alongside their partner Pokemon, but the one who oversaw it was a young-looking maiden named Y/N.

-You watched over the Pokemon with gentle kindness but also stern rules, like no attacking others and battles were to be done only on the battlefields you had created for them to burn off energy, as you didn’t want to deal with anymore property damage.

-The Pokemon obeyed your rules, so you didn’t have many problems, just with the new arrivals who were quick to learn.

-You didn’t really interact with the other pantheons, only when you had to, you preferred to be with Pokemon rather than people, as Pokemon wouldn’t betray you, not like your fellow humans.

-You had died young, betrayed by those you had trusted, and you became the patron, as you had died protecting your Pokemon, and the Pokemon look to you as their leader, including the legendary ones, they see you as the boss.

-Your partner Pokemon, who was a Munchlax when you died, but he evolved into a Snorlax, fighting hard to avenge you, but ultimately fell and he arrived shortly after you, was the one who came with you everywhere, following you, protecting you, and comforting you whenever you needed to be comforted.

-All of the tools the trainers have come across on earth were thanks to you- giving them to those you deem worthy, like MC, who in turn uses them to help Pokemon themselves. Then once the mission is done, you retrieve the tools.

-You watch over the legendary Pokemon, the ones who can travel between earth and Valhalla, escorting them down so they can run around and play on earth, and if trainers wish to battle them, for a chance to capture them, they must first defeat you.

-You have thousands of years under your belt, so you are not to be underestimated by any means, especially your partner, who is way more active compared to normal Snorlax, he’s way stronger and way faster.

-If a trainer managed to best you, then you would allow them to approach the legendary, but it was the Pokemon who made the decision, and if they refused, then you would do nothing to sway their mind.

-If one was worthy, you would bid your friend goodbye, but you knew that you would see them again soon, once the trainer who caught them passed on themselves.

-In Valhalla, you welcomed visitors to your pantheon, gods and humans alike, allowing them to befriend and train alongside Pokemon, and all obeyed your rules, mainly of no violence and no trying to take any of your Pokemon if they didn’t want to go.

-People would find Pokemon all over Valhalla, as they could wander, but they always came back home to you at the end of the day.

-You had seen friendships formed between the citizens of Valhalla and your Pokemon, seeing the partnerships that always warmed your heart.

-However, if any were to try to harm your Pokemon, there would be no holding back- many had learned this lesson the hard way. Snorlax quite enjoyed eating popcorn alongside Buddha as you used double slap on several young cocky gods that tried to attack Totodile under your care.

-Many gods used your pantheon as a means to escape from their duties. Poseidon would spend hours in your ocean, swimming in the clear water amongst the Pokemon who were always happy to see him, except for one cranky Quillfish, but he was like that with everyone.

-Buddha loved the vibe of your pantheon, it was so relaxing, he could just nap in the fields amongst the grass types who would sleep around him and cover him with flowers, something that would always make you laugh, seeing him coming up to you, covered in flowers.

-Shiva, Hercules, Thor, Lu Bu, and Raiden all loved training with your fighting types, sparring with them, as their unpredictability always made for good fun.

-Ares, when he needed comfort, when he was feeling sad or just needed to be alone, your fairy types were always quick to swarm him, cuddling all around him, making him feel so loved.

-You loved your Pokemon, all of them, seeing them running around, flying, swimming, having fun, enjoying their peaceful lives from your perch on Snorlax’s stomach, laying on top of him as he slept. This truly was a paradise.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror buddha #ror shiva #ror heracles #ror thor #ror lu bu #ror raiden #ror ares

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mimble-sparklepudding · 2 years ago

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OC Questions on the Seven Colours of Medieval Heraldry.

A little list of OC questions based on colour symbolism in Medieval English Heraldry. This is a very simplified version of the subject, which is unlikely to impress any serious Medievalists and is intended more for the purposes of entertainment than education.

Gules (Red) - Military Fortitude and Magnanimity.

Does your OC have any experience in the military? Perhaps they come from a long line of soldiers or army leaders? Or were they conscripted or press-ganged into an army at a young age? If they have not had a formal position in an army, then what is their view of the military mindset and hierarchies they have observed?

Does your OC believe in the concept of a "just war" or do they believe that all conflict is to be deplored? Could they conceive of a justifiable reason for one nation to invade another - perhaps to free an oppressed people or prevent the development of a dangerous technology? Or would they only support a war of defence against an aggressor?

Is your OC usually magnanimous in victory - whether against a defeated foe, or against a friend in a game or competition? Or perhaps they enjoy exulting in their success at the expense of others? Perhaps with ribald mockery or spiteful vengeance?

What has been the most difficult thing your OC has ever had to forgive (assuming they have ever done so)? Did they do this of their own accord? Or only after they felt justice had been done or penitence suitably demonstrated?

Does your OC harbour resentment towards a particular person, group or faction? Or are they perhaps part of a widely resented group themselves?

Azure (Blue) - Loyalty and Truth.

Does your OC have a guiding principle by which they live their life - such as duty, self-restraint or vengeance? Has this ever been tested by circumstance or challenged by another person?

Is your OC loyal to a particular nation, clan or social group? How far would they go in ensuring the safety and success of this faction?

How confident is your OC of the loyalty of their companions, lovers or followers? Do they ever feel tempted to test this through spying upon them? Or by engineering circumstances where their loyalty might be tested?

Is your OC honest about their true loyalties? Or are they happy to feign belief in a cause or leader in hopes of material (or other) reward?

Does your OC believe that people should only believe or take inspiration from something if it is actually true? Or are there circumstances where a motivating lie is to be preferred to an awkward or uncomfortable truth?

Sable (Black) - Constancy and Grief.

Is your OC consistent in their behaviour and responses? Or do others see them as unpredictable or even capricious at times? Are there factors at play dictating their reactions of which others might be unaware?

Has your OC always been fundamentally the same person? Or would someone from their past struggle to recognise the person they have become?

Is your OC comfortable in expressing their grief? Such as by crying at funerals or memorial events? Or do they always keep their emotions intensely private? Or perhaps not express them at all?

Has your OC always feared the loss of the same thing - perhaps a loved one, a valuable artifact or a carefully nurtured reputation? Or do they look back with amusement on what once felt important to them?

Does your OC believe that they will be mourned when they die? Or do they suspect they will be quickly forgotten - or even hope that this will be the case?

Vert (Green) - Hope, Joy and Fidelity.

Does your OC feel comfortable expressing feelings of joy - do they laugh or smile easily? Or do they have a constantly stern or dour countenance? If so is this entirely genuine? Or something they feel they need to maintain for the sake of appearances?

How hopeful is your OC about the future? Do they see things as becoming better in general - either for them personally or the world at large? Or do they feel as if decline and disaster are inevitable and all that can be done is to delay the final end for as long as possible?

What makes your OC laugh (if they laugh at all)? Do they have an intellectual or ironic sense of humour? Or do they prefer ribald jokes or slapstick routines?

Does your OC believe in the importance of fidelity in romantic relationships? Or does it not worry them so long as a lover or spouse never discovers their peccadillos in this regard? Conversely do they worry or obsess over the loyalty of their partner or partners?

If your OC could be granted one wish for the future, but could only wish on behalf of another person, who would they choose? And for what would they wish?

Purpure (Purple) - Majesty, Sovereignty and Justice.

Does your OC find it easy to express deference or homage to someone of high social standing? Or is this something they would only do if it benefitted them directly? Or for the sake of a scheme or intrigue?

Is your OC comfortable in the higher echelons of society, such as aristocratic functions or assemblies of the rich and powerful? Or do they prefer to avoid these events if possible?

Does your OC feel that exchanges of ideas or customs between nations or cultures can be positive? Or do they fear the dilution or devaluing of one culture by another? Has there ever been a foreign cultural practice they have adapted for themselves? Or are they fiercely loyal to their own cultural inheritance?

Does your OC have a strong belief in the importance of justice? If so what does justice mean to them? Do they follow the philosophy of "an eye for an eye"? Or are they careful in distinguishing between justice and revenge? Is this the case even if they consider themselves to be the injured party?

Does your OC believe that there can ever be fair and just relations between nations or tribal groups? Or do they assert that might will always make right when it comes to interactions between such factions?

Or (Gold) - Worthy Ambition.

Does your OC have a long-term goal or ambition to which they are constantly working? Or do they tend to bounce chaotically from situation to situation, with no clear plan or sense of what the future may bring?

Does your OC have any wishes or desires of which they are ashamed or otherwise wish to keep secret? Or do they loudly proclaim their every wish to those around them?

Is your OC part of a wider group or organisation working towards a shared goal? If so, then do they always agree with their associates on the correct strategy to adopt? Or are there frequently tensions or disagreements in this regard?

Does your OC have political ambitions, or a strong desire for power or influence? Or are they content to leave the messy business of governance and politicking to others and focus on smaller or more immediate goals?

What does your OC consider to be the noblest or most admirable ambition for a person to hold? Perhaps spreading a particular religious faith? Or improving the lives of the poor? Or even perfecting their own martial skill?

Argent (Silver) - Peace and Sincerity.

Does your OC feel comfortable during times of peace? Or do they only truly know who they are during times of war or conflict? Do they always need an "enemy" to focus upon? Or even just a rival?

Is there a certain person, group or faction with whom your OC believes peace would never be possible? Is this due to their diametrically opposing beliefs? Their historical actions? Or their fundamental untrustworthiness?

Does your OC find it easy to be sincere when expressing their views or feelings? Or do they prefer to adopt an air of detached irony? If so, then why is this the case? Do they fear rejection or mockery by others?

Do others find your OC easy to believe? Or is there something about them that makes others distrustful or cynical about their motives or trustworthiness?

Is your OC a pacifist? Or have they ever had pacifist sympathies? If they have changed their position on such things then what caused this shift? If they reject pacifist arguments, perhaps because they believe that violence can be justified in self-defence, then how do they respond to those who believe in pursuing peace at any cost? Do they see them as weak or naïve? Or as idealists whose ideas deserve serious consideration?

#OC ask meme #OC ask game #OC questions #OC #ffxiv #character questions #character development questions #OC ask prompts #OC ask #OC prompts #OC meme #OC quiz #ffxiv oc

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cherllyio · 7 months ago

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MK goes apeshit - three short stories of how MK goes Apeshit

Story 1 - The Traitor

The Hooded figure was waiting in one of the many rooms in the palace. The Harbinger would be here soon.

They chuckled a bit to themselves.

After the “Azure incident” the others had been much more skeptical, and the artifacts had been locked up more securely.

Even A King of The Underworld, as they were themselves, wouldn’t be able to get the artifacts on their own anymore.

The only way for someone to get it was: “If somehow, they could change the very fate of the universe”.

The Harbinger which they called “MK”, was perfect for this.

They had watched as he had slowly been drifting into more and more despair, becoming more and more desperate.

And then, The Hooded Figure had come to him, offering him a chance to change his “fate”.

A fate The Harbinger feared, so, so much. So, The Hooded figure had offered them that. A chance to “prevent it”.

The Harbinger had first, of course, been skeptical, but luckily he knew just as much as them, that time was running out.

So “MK” listened.

Add that’s what the others had gotten wrong.

The Lady Bone demon, Azure they hadn’t understood what he was, what his place in the universe truly was.

Honestly, how hadn’t they noticed?

They couldn’t control him through predetermined destinies or celestial powers.

The only way to truly control this weapon was through expecting the unexpected.

Pushing him one way, knowing that he would always go the other. That was the only way to control him.

So, they had pushed him towards something that was predetermined.

Something that, if broken, would change the very fate of the universe and drown it in chaos.

And, oh, how they would watch it in joy… The world destroyed and “MK” in the middle of it.

________________

Short Summary: " I am so proud of how i manipualted this child"

Story 2 - Prolouge: Erlang VS MK

Story 3(work in process) - Erlang VS The Harbinger of Chaos

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk mk #lmk theory #lmk fanfiction #qi xiaotian lmk #qi xiaotian #lmk qi xiaotian #lmk monkey king #lmk monkie mk #lmk season 5 #lmk monkey mk #lmk monkie kid #lmk erlang

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velidewrites · 10 months ago

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Get In The Water

To bargain with an ancient death-lord, Captain Elain Archeron must acquire the rare, magical scales of a siren. Little does she know her target is no ordinary Mer—but the Prince of the Undersea himself.

Pairing: Elucien

Tags: Pirate!Elain x Merman!Lucien

Notes: For the beautiful talented stunning @areyoudreaminof for the @acotargiftexchange! I wasn't your original Secret Santa, but I tried to include some of your favourites here (this is your official warning for Jurian being a canon-typical little shit). Sending you so many smooches!

Thank you @ablogofsapphicpanic for being my beta<3

Read on AO3

“With all due respect, Captain Archeron, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

Elain’s answering sigh was deep enough to rustle the waves ahead. She tossed them a final look before turning back to her quartermaster. “You know exactly where you can shove your respect, Jurian.”

He bounced off the mast with a grin. “Up my arse, no doubt,” he mused, a large, tanned hand stroking his much overgrown stubble. They’d been out at sea for weeks—for good reason, too, though Elain realised it was a sentiment less and less of her crew continued to share.

Still, she nodded with a smile of her own. “Same as last time.”

“Then I’m sure I don’t have to tell you it would have been wise to dock in Adriata two weeks ago.” He crossed his arms. “We’re not exactly welcome on Day Court waters.”

That was certainly one way to put it. Elain was half-expecting the High Lord’s army, ready at arms and lined up on the shores of Port Denera to arrest her and her crew. It would hardly be the first time.

Elain’s smile only grew wider. “There’s nothing quite like coming home.”

Jurian rolled his eyes, no doubt remembering their latest excursion himself, and leaned over the bulwark. “It’s been a while,” he remarked, his brown gaze drifting off to the azure sea. In the waning hours of the afternoon, the golden sunlight reflected off its surface, shimmering quietly as though unaware of the chaos to come. Where she came from—a little town bordering the Eastern Coast—the fishermen used to say the future was carried in with the waves. Elain was never much a practitioner of such belief—after all, if it were true, her ship would surely be on the verge of utter collapse right now, sinking underwater with the crashing force of the raging sea.

Instead, they continued to peacefully make their way northeast, the sun warming their skin as though in greeting. The irony wasn’t lost on her, but she supposed it was much easier to enjoy the bliss while it lasted. The silver blade strapped to her side flashed at the thought, undeniably in protest—she’d had it dipped in the Cauldron a few decades ago (before her sister, the High Lady herself, had somehow lost the whole damn thing), and since then, the sword had seemed to develop a mind of its own. Elain didn’t mind. It was bloody useful in battle, and she was smarter than to argue with a deadly, magical artifact. Even if it was a real fucking smartass.

The sword flashed again—and a lot brighter this time, too bright to mistake it with a random glimpse of the sunlight.

“Sorry,” Elain muttered.

Jurian—she’d nearly forgotted he was still here—glanced down at her belt. “You need to stop talking to the damn thing.”

She could have sworn she felt something sharp twitch against her hip.

“Would you like to talk to it instead?” she asked sweetly.

Jurian’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

“I thought so.”

“Seriously, Elain,” he sighed, apparently foregoing her usual title. “I would have gone to the ends of the earth with you to get those scales. Hell, I will go to the ends of the earth, and you know I won’t so much as hesitate.”

Elain did know. The stakes were too high—too personal, especially for her second-in-command.

“But the crew needs a break,” Jurian continued. “Adriata was supposed to be our goldmine, and we found nothing—nothing, Elain, not even one of those gods-damned—”

“I know what happened in Adriata, Jurian,” Elain cut in. “I was there.”

“I only mean—”

“I know what you mean. And I agree, even if I do not show it sometimes. Jurian, I…” She closed her eyes, letting the salty mist pearl on her skin, her lashes. “I miss her too. Every day.”

For a moment, there was only silence—silence and the quiet whoosh of the deep blue waves.

“I know you do,” Jurian whispered beside her.

“She’s out there, somewhere—somewhere on the Continent. With that monster to do with her as he likes.” She could practically hear Jurian grit his teeth beside her. “I won’t give up, and we’ve been out here together long enough for me to know you won’t give up, either.”

“The Death God is persistent,” Jurian seethed. “He demands too high a price.”

Indeed he did. Koschei, a being so ancient even the fishermen in her small Day Court village had no legends singing of his name, had been magically bound to his lair on the Continent millennia ago—and, apparently, had been trying to find a way out of his chains ever since. The only thing in the world able to release him, though, was—of course—the Cauldron, the creator of the world itself.

And, up until sixty years ago, Elain would see it in her sister’s dining room every Solstice. It was ridiculous, really, the power the Night Court used to have in its grasp. That wasn’t to say it had not been deserved—the Cauldron had been won in a war full of blood and sacrifice, one her sister and his mate had nearly lost their life in, but…well. Surely they could have found a more secure place to display it than their townhouse in Velaris. A place where it could not have gotten stolen by only the Mother knew whom, or better yet—a place where no one, not even Feyre and Rhysand, could ever find it again.

It was too late for such semantics. Despite an entire Valkyrie region searching the skies for a sign of it, the Cauldron was simply…gone.

Nesta believed it to have been an inside job. After all, there were only a handful of people outside of Velaris aware of the city’s existence at all, let alone the High Lord and Lady’s private residence. But the Head Valkyrie had questioned them all—and found nothing at all.

For the first twenty years, Elain searched for it, too—anything to get out of her village, really, and the ghosts of a life she longed to leave behind. An engagement to a local lord’s son might have been the dream of many females back home, but it was, and never would be, Elain’s

The missing Cauldron had given her the opportunity she’d been searching for, and Elain did not look back when Feyre asked for her help. In her travels, though…she discovered a beauty to the seas, to the vast world they opened up for her taking—and so, after too many hopeless clues and tearful conversations with her sister, Elain had let the waves consume her entirely.

She did not think she would ever have to worry about the Cauldron again. She’d hoped, perhaps foolishly, that it had lost itself to the world just as she wished it would. But then Elain had met Vassa, and then Vassa had been taken by Koschei, and, well…

Her fate belonged to the Cauldron once again.

This time, though, it was hardly a chore, or a favour she was doing her little sister. It was a matter of life or death, of the family she’d found sailing the seas of Prythian. Vassa was a sister, too, a sister she loved dearly enough that when Koschei’s demands began to invade her visions, Elain did not hesitate.

She and Jurian had devised a plan—it wasn’t exactly foolproof, so to say, but she hoped it would be enough. It had to be.

“Do you know how much just one of the Mer scales runs for on the black market, Jurian?” Elain asked, more to prove a point than to get an actual answer. He knew—they’d been chasing them for the past two years. Still, she said, “Ten thousand gold marks. You could buy a manor in Spring for that kind of money.”

“I have allergies,” Jurian murmured.

“I know I didn’t just hear that.”

Jurian sighed. “It just seems…I don’t know, Elain. The Mer people are folktale. If your so-called Undersea were to exist, we would have found it in Adriata.”

“The High Lord’s libraries clearly point to the seas of Day,” Elain pressed.

Jurian snorted. “Are you sure you read that right? We didn’t exactly have a lot of time in that library, you know.”

She cut him a look sharper than the sword at her side. “I’m sure. I got the information we needed with a few minutes to spare.”

“I think your posters are still hanging at the entrance.”

Elain wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like the way my hair looks in those ones.” When it came to painting, the Day Court forces were no Feyre.

“They put quite the bounty on your head, you know,” Jurian added. “If that isn’t flattering, then I don’t know what is.”

Elain grinned. “Well, I stole some really valuable books.”

“I’ll bet.” He looked out to the sea again, that rugged face turning more solemn as he studied the horizon—and the shore stretching far ahead. “How do you know the scales will be enough to get Vassa back?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know. But, if we can find the Mer here and get the scales we need…perhaps we can bargain with Koschei to take them instead. Their magic is forgotten, just as he is. He might find them to be enough.”

“That’s a big if, Elain.”

She shrugged. “At the very least, we might be able to use them to trace the Cauldron. I’ve sent a letter to Velaris—Amren volunteered her assistance.”

Jurian shuddered.

“Don’t be a baby,” Elain rolled her eyes. “She’s useful. Ancient.”

“Precisely.”

“I just…” He shook his head, his brown curls catching the sunlight. “Things are weird enough as they are. You Fae are hardly accepting of pirates, let alone humans.”

Elain tucked a loose strand of hair behind an arched ear. “I’m a pirate,” she declared, letting some of the pride she’d buried deep in her chest creep into her tone. “I am happy to share at least half of the burden with you.”

Jurian’s warm hand covered her own. “You’re a good friend, Elain,” he said. “You could have left—could have sailed off after that whole fiasco with Koschei.” He gave her a light squeeze. “But you chose to stay.”

She could not meet his stare—not when the salt in her eyes had begun to burn too much, blurring her own gaze as she turned to face the shallowing water. “I’ve run away before,” she told him quietly. “No more.”

“No more,” Jurian agreed. He had a past of his own—and, when the time was right…he would tell her. And she would embrace it without question.

“I’ll tell you what,” Elain started, her throat suddenly tight. “It’s a big day we’ve got tomorrow. Tell the crew we’ll be dining at the local tavern tonight?”

Slowly, Jurian turned to her—and smiled. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

***

The Pearl was a small ship—small enough not to raise suspicions when they’d docked in Port Denera. The flag—a Mer tail with a pearl resting between its fins—had been carefully folded away prior to their arrival, the sigil of Elain’s crew all but too recognisable in those parts of Prythian.

It wasn’t that Elain had no moral compass whatsoever, but, over the years, she had learned that sometimes, taking her life into her own hands had a tendency to pay off a whole lot more than simply letting it run its course. Had she lived by a different set of rules, she would have long been married to the new Lord Nolan, never having left her hometown and spending her days at the beach, looking out to the sea and wishing for a life never to be.

It could have been a good life, perhaps—but it would never be the life she wanted, the life she craved. Besides, it wasn’t like Elain had ever been given a good example to follow. Feyre, after all, had escaped her own arranged marriage and ran right to the deepest, darkest corners of Night, Nesta following shortly after. It was only fair that Elain followed the family tradition.

Father had been devastated—Elain’s engagement, after all, had been his final, desperate attempt at seeing his daughters well off before his passing. After Feyre and Nesta’s disobedience, as he’d called it, Father had assumed his daughters had simply rebelled because they wished to remain home. Perhaps that was why, after having tried marrying Feyre off to Spring and Nesta to Hybern, he’d settled for seeing Elain with a small, local nobleman.

Elain did not care for riches—well, she hadn’t cared then. Now, having seen all that the world had to offer, she supposed she did enjoy having a few pearls and gold around her neck at times. But it hadn’t been the match itself that bothered her—she was sure Greysen Nolan was perfectly nice and well-mannered—but the fact that Father hadn’t even asked if he was who Elain wanted, if he’d even cared if she could ever love Greysen at all.

As cliché as it sounded, love was exactly what Elain craved so viciously. And now, decades later, she had finally found that love—here, out at sea, with the waves embracing her wholly and eternally. This—the Pearl—was her home.

She sure hoped home wouldn’t mind seeing her stumble back aboard in a few hours, when she was well and thoroughly drunk out of her mind.

Aside from pearls and jewellery, Elain had developed a taste for ale, and it just so happened that the Port Denera tavern was famous for the golden drink. It tasted like liquid gold in her cup, leaving a tinge on her tongue that sent her senses spiralling and flushed her cheeks with bright-pink heat.

The crew seemed to be enjoying themselves, too, and it was only for that reason that she’d allowed her instincts to abandon ship for a moment or two. Well, perhaps three. She hadn’t seen Jurian this happy and relaxed since Vassa had been taken—a sign of how truly tired he must have been these past few weeks, of how badly he needed an evening to forget.

The thought sobered her up just a little, and Elain remembered the true reason she’d allowed this unusual night out in a town where the entire army was on the lookout for Captain Archeron. She did feel slightly guilty for misleading Jurian into thinking it was simply out of the goodness of her own heart—into omitting the one, small ulterior motive that had lately seemed to be driving nearly every decision of hers.

Information.

While the fishermen in the East of the Day Court had no knowledge of the Mer, the folk of Port Denera no doubt sang of the old creatures lurking beneath the sea. She’d already picked up on a few shanties on the way to the tavern, humming the words quietly to herself as she searched the lyrics for anything valuable. The Mer’s magic appeared to be as sharp as their teeth, capable of stirring the waves and calling upon storms. The strongest of them could lure the innocent, hungry wanderers into their traps with a lulling voice and mesmerising eyes, ones that reflected the soul’s deepest desires just as the surface of the sea reflected the sun above. Once captured, they’d sink those teeth into the flesh of their prey, and drag them under—never to be seen again.

Elain hummed the tune again cheerfully, excitement bubbling up in her chest—well, she supposed the bubbles might have had to do with some of the barrels of alcohol she’d consumed. Still, this was promising. All she needed was a name—a lagoon, or a hidden grotto, perhaps, where she could locate a lair. Her Cauldron-blessed sword would do the rest of the job.

Somewhere far beyond her peripheral vision, she heard the silver hum happily, already summoned by the rather bloodthirsty thought.

It was not that Elain wanted to murder the Mer in cold blood. She did not enjoy killing (she could have sworn her blade huffed at the sentiment), but if there was no other way to acquire the scales, she would do it. She loved Vassa enough to do whatever it took—the exiled, Firebird queen would do the exact same for her.

For what had to have been the hundredth time, Elain looked around the tavern, her somewhat blurry gaze scanning the bustling area. It was a lot more crowded than she’d expected—which proved a good thing all the same. It was a lot harder to get spotted in a sea of creatures of all shapes and sizes, and it sure helped that they all seemed piss-drunk, too.

The local shanty found its way onto her lips once more, and she sang it absently, her attention entirely focused on some old wraith somehow downing two bottles of wine at once. Her sharp nails scraped against the glass as she drank, and Elain watched, completely entranced at what she’d never thought could be accomplished before.

In the morning sun so bright, the sailors set to sea,

Their hearts as bold as brass, their spirits ever-free.

But careful, sailor, please, beware the waves that dance and play,

Beneath this sunny surface, a wicked mermaid lay.

“Sounds terrifying.”

Elain jumped.

The ale in her hand fell to the ground with a loud clunk, the sound immediately drowned out by a rumbling laughter of the crows. The golden liquid spilled over her, sticking to the skin of her neck, her collarbones, the curves of her exposed breasts—until finally sinking into the white fabric of her corset. Elain swore under her breath, cursing her choice of garment for tonight, before finally looking up.

“Shit,” she swore again, for the lack of a better word—or, perhaps, because there was no word to describe the male standing before her.

The most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

A pair of shining eyes of molten gold looked her up and down, an auburn eyebrow quirking up in amusement. “Now, don’t tell me you’re disappointed,” he drawled, his voice rich and deep and smoother than the liquid she’d swallowed down her throat. “I spent a lot of time on my hair earlier tonight.”

Elain blinked—then blinked again. “Are you…hitting on me?”

His mouth—full and plush and gods she needed to get it together—twitched. “And here I was, thinking I was all too obvious,” he quipped.

She peeled her gaze off the soft waves of his hair, glistening under the tavern’s candlelight. “Perhaps you’re just not very good at it,” she remarked, thanking the Mother for keeping her tongue sharp when her mind bordered on insanity.

The stranger smiled openly now. “What’s your name?” he asked.

Elain angled her head an inch. “Why?”

Did she really just ask him that?

Perhaps it was time to order some water.

The male seemed entirely unbothered. “It’s not often you meet a beautiful female singing old folktales in the middle of a tavern,” he said, offering a one-shouldered shrug. “I find myself somewhat…intrigued.”

“Intrigued,” Elain repeated blankly.

His smile grew wider. “Quite,” he agreed. “Those are old, you know.”

Elain straightened—straightened and blinked again, her thoughts somehow collecting into one, singular stream as she remembered what, exactly, she had come to this tavern for. “Are they?” she asked, “I’ve just picked up on them an hour ago.”

“An hour?”

She offered a smile of her own. “I have an excellent memory.”

Those golden eyes glistened. “Is that so?” the male asked, his gaze sweeping down her body as though he had all the time in the world. “If I tell you my name, will you sing it for me, too?”

Focus, Elain. He’d mentioned the Mer shanties, did he not? “I doubt anyone will hear it,” she remarked. “I never see Port Denera this busy.”

“You’ve been here before?”

Elain waved a dismissive hand. “Once or twice,”

The male hummed. “Then you know today is an important day,” he said, that strange shade of amusement playing over his features once more. “The High Lord is mourning the loss of his dear wife and son, and we are drinking in a show of, ah…solidarity,” he finished, a passing faun raising his glass at them, as though emphasising his agreement.

Elain waited for him to get out of earshot. “Wife and son?” she questioned, searching the corners of her mind that stored everything she knew about her Court.. “Didn’t that happen three hundred years ago?”

Those eyes narrowed at her slightly, and the stranger tilted his head. “Do you think he should have moved on instead?” he asked, the question so quiet it may as well have been a breath—and yet, she’d heard it perfectly over the bustling crowd.

Elain considered. “I think it must have been a beautiful kind of love, if he’s mourning it so many centuries later.”

His auburn brow arched in surprise. “What did you say your name was, lady…?”

Elain snorted. “Oh, I’m no lady.” She set her glass on a nearby table. “Haven’t been for a while.”

“You certainly look like one,” he remarked, that smile once again creeping back onto his ridiculously handsome features.

She couldn’t resist. “Do I, now?”

He chuckled, the sound low and honeyed. “Oh, absolutely.”

“And are you in the habit of flirting with all the ladies you pick up in a tavern?” Elain teased.

“No, no. I usually let them come to me.” He winked. “I can be a good singer too, you know.”

Elain smiled.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she laughed. “So, you know those shanties, too?”

His eyes glittered.

There it was.

“Some of them,” he agreed.

“Do they hold any truth?” she pressed. Come on, come on, come on…

“Sometimes,” he nodded. “Does it matter?”

You have no idea, Elain thought. “It does. I’m looking for…” she hesitated. “Information.”

“Oh?”

“The books in Day’s library state I might find it here,” she added carefully.

Something like realisation crept onto his features. “You wish to know about the Merpeople,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elain’s gaze flickered to the movement. “How did you get access to those books?” he asked.

“It’s not important,” she told him, eyeing the golden-brown muscles flexing under the candlelight.

“I disagree,” the male said, “those books are extremely well-guarded.” Was that admiration she’d heard in his tone?

“What was your name, again?” Elain asked him.

The male smiled. “Would you like to come outside with me?”

As if. “I’m not exactly in a hook-up mood right now, sorry,” she told him, though uncertain if the words rang entirely true.

He smiled—as though he knew. “What about information?” She felt her brows flick up. “I thought so. Now, shall we? It’s more quiet out back,” he added, gesturing to the tavern’s back door.

“I like it loud,” Elain countered. The more people drowning their conversation, the better.

“So do I,” he winked. “Another time, baby, I promise.”

Elain rolled her eyes. “Very funny,” she said, then dared a quick glance around the space again. Come to think of it, the couple at the table near where the two of them stood were awfully close—close enough that Elain decided not to risk it. She nodded to the stranger. “Let’s go.”

“Just so that we’re clear,” he started as they made their way through the crowd, “once you get those scales, we’re splitting the profits.”

“We can discuss the money later,” Elain countered. Like hell she was going to share anything with him.

“If that is what you wish,” he nodded, and opened the door.

The fresh air hit her almost unexpectedly, but it was a welcome change from the stuffy tavern in the back. She breathed in the salt carried in by the sea, her thoughts clearing up enough that she could finally focus on the matter at hand without unnecessary…distractions.

The distraction flashed her a smile, the beach behind him illuminated by the dying sunlight. “So, Mer scales, hmm? What do you need those for?”

“That,” Elain said firmly, “is none of your business.”

He chuckled again, the sound different this time—less than that deep, raspy sound she’d heard before, but more…fluid, like tea stirring in a cup. Warm. Inviting. “Oh, you have no idea,” he said quietly—and reached out his hand.

“Come with me,” the stranger told her.

Elain frowned. “I’m already here,” she pointed out. “You wanted to leave the tavern,” she reminded him.

He hummed—and she could have sworn it was like a melody pouring from his chest. “Yes,” he told her, stepping back until his feet—bare, she now noticed—reached the sand. “Let’s go a little further, alright?”

Elain stepped forward. “I…don’t understand,” she said. Still, she moved in closer.

He offered her a gentle smile. “Just one more step for me, gorgeous, please,” he tried again, his hand still outstretched.

“Okay.” She reached the sand now, too—but he had somehow moved back a few steps again, inches away from the waves’ embrace.

“Good girl,” he purred, the water now kissing his skin. Elain stepped in closer. “You’re very beautiful, you know,” he told her, angling his head slightly. She watched as his long hair spilled down his back in waves softer than the very sea—and met his gaze again, only to find it dark. “Almost beautiful enough to hide that rotten soul of yours.”

That gold had tarnished—enough to hide that bright, enticing gleam.

“Yes,” Elain agreed.

“Mmm, I thought so,” he mused. “I just need you to take a few more steps, alright? We’re almost at the shore,” he added, his voice like a lullaby, reassuring.

“Yes, I’ll follow you,” she agreed again.

“You’re doing so well for me,” he praised. “I might even consider making your death painless,” he whispered, watching her closely as she, too, neared the edge of the water. “Though that wasn’t the kind of death you had planned for my kind, was it?” he asked, a certain sharpness to his tone that made her open her mouth. “Oh, no need to answer that, baby,” he interrupted, “but I do appreciate your eagerness.”

Elain nodded. “Whatever you wish.”

He smiled, flashing his teeth. A perfect, pearly set of sharp blades—sharp enough to tear her flesh apart. “That’s a good girl,” he hummed, and she could have sworn she heard her soul sing in answer. “Now, step into the sea.”

Elain stopped inches from the seafoam. “Will you give me your hand?” she asked him shyly.

His features softened—though the sharp, predatory smile remained. “Of course, my rotten, terrible lady,” he purred. “Come with me.”

Elain slid her hand in his—and waited.

His skin, surprisingly, was warm—sun-kissed, as if he hadn’t spent an entire lifetime in the dark depths of the Undersea. He felt smooth, too, with some coarseness here and there that let her know his palm was no stranger to holding a weapon—a trident, perhaps, if the songs of the fishermen had, indeed, held any truth to them.

The leaves behind her rustled—and Elain finally, finally released a breath.

“No,” she told him, her voice still feigning that blissful softness. “No, I don’t think I will.”

The merman blinked. “What?”

Elain gave him a smile that was purely Fae—one that let him know she was a monster, too. “It was a nice try, really,” she said, her free hand reaching back to her belt. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

A pair of iron cuffs appeared in her grip—and, in a flash of a second, found its way onto the merman’s wrists.

His skin sizzled, and he hissed sharply, those dark eyes wide and not leaving hers for one second—but Elain held on, murmuring the spell she’d memorised under her breath.

She could never come to the land of the Mer unprepared.

“Duck!” Jurian yelled behind her.

She only had a fraction of a moment to see the bow in his hands—to stop him before he released the arrow.

Elain didn’t stop him, though.

She ducked.

***

“I can’t believe you caught one of them,” Jurian said in disbelief. “Good work, really, Elain, but did you have to bring him onto the ship?”

From the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement behind the bars. The merman rose to his full height—he seemed taller in the constrained space of the brig, somehow—and met her gaze directly.

“Your name,” he said as though in a daze. “Elain.”

Elain cut her friend a look. “Thank you, Jurian.”

Jurian bounced off the wall. “Sorry,” he shrugged, his tone suggesting he wasn’t sorry at all.

“It didn’t work,” their prisoner said, more to himself now than his jailors.

“What didn’t work?” Jurian asked him sharply.

The merman looked at him—and Elain knew it took everything in her quartermaster not to flinch under his scrutiny. “My spell,” he explained slowly, then turned toward her again. “It didn’t work on you,” he repeated.

“Perhaps you’re not as good as you thought,” Jurian said.

He scoffed, as though the remark pulled him out of whatever fog had clouded his thoughts. “My name is Lucien Spell Cleaver,” he declared, his voice louder now, stronger. “Firstborn son of Helion Spell Cleaver, Prince of the Undersea—and heir to the High Lord of the Day Court.”

Beside her, Jurian went entirely still. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she was moving at all, either.

She may have been a pirate, but kidnapping a High Lord’s son—nay, his heir—was an act of treason, and Elain really wished to see one hundred before eventually dying a horrible, undoubtedly painful death. Quite common in her profession, really.

“Impossible,” she whispered. “Helion’s son is dead—as is his wife.”

“Clearly not,” Jurian murmured.

The male—Lucien—narrowed his gaze at the two of them. “We have been in hiding for the moment I was born. There was no denying what I was, not until I learned how to glamour myself, and my mother—she took me back to her people to protect me,” he explained.

“Does the High Lord know?” Elain breathed. He was lying. He had to have been.

Still, it was nice to at least know his name. Fake or not, it pleased her, for some reason. Lucien.

“Of course,” he scoffed. “The ‘Summer Estate’ he leaves for six months every year is Undersea.”

The answer was detailed enough that Elain’s heart quickened. “You really are Lucien Spell Cleaver?” she asked.

“And you,” Lucien nodded, “are Elain Archeron. Pirate…and Mer killer, apparently.”

“I haven’t killed anyone,” Elain protested.

“Yet,” he finished for her. “You were going to kill me,” he said, those golden eyes—back to normal now that he was at their mercy—settling on her as he added, “You still are.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she scrambled. Some pirate she was—some of her rivals back East would have made her walk the plank for her hesitation.

Still, Elain could not bring herself to remember why…

“Why do you want my scales?” Lucien asked, interrupting her trail of thought—completing it, really.

“I told you, that is none of your business,” she told him, though her voice lacked her previous conviction this time.

“It is, if you still want them,” he countered.

“Why on earth would you give us your scales?” Jurian demanded.

“Well, I wouldn’t,” Lucien shrugged, then lifted his iron-bound hands into view. “As you can see, I am not in my Mer form, and will not be until you release me back into the sea,” he argued. “So, why don’t you just let me go, I give you my scales, and everyone wins?”

“Because you’re very obviously lying,” Elain cut in. “And you and your little Undersea army are going to sink my ship the moment it sails.”

The corner of his lip ticked upwards. “Is the word of a Prince not credible enough for you, Elain Archeron?”

“Not particularly,” she replied calmly. Princes, Lords—she’d heard their promises before, and ran to the sea to escape them.

“You are unlike any Mer hunter I’ve ever met before,” Lucien hummed, as though in thought.

Elain frowned. “There are hunters?”

“Of course,” he told her. “My father has disposed of as many of them as he could, but some still emerge every few years, hoping to see if the songs are true.” His expressions sombered. “Our scales are very valuable.”

“So we’ve heard,” Jurian said.

Lucien’s gaze flickered up. “It is money, then,” he said matter-of-factly, though something like anger lingered in the back of his throat.. “You wish to kill my people for a few gold marks?”

Elain swallowed.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, princeling,” Jurian seethed.

Elain placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Take a breath, Jurian,” she told him quietly. “Why don’t you leave us alone for a moment?”

Jurian looked at her—then back at Lucien again. “Let me know if you need help killing him,” he said darkly. Then, “For the record, I don’t care what you are,” he told Lucien. “You’re just annoying the shit out of me.”

And with that, he was gone, the wooden stairs carrying the echo of his steps. Only when they faded did Lucien finally say, “I like him.”

“He shot you,” Elain reminded him.

Lucien shrugged. “It wasn’t an ash arrow, now, was it? We live to forgive. Besides, I’m healed now.” Indeed, the wound in his shoulder had now closed almost entirely. “Well, almost,” he said, pointedly raising his wrists back into the light.

Elain had hoped the iron would work—it was an old superstition the humans thought could harm the Fae, but it had to have stemmed from somewhere. With Day’s libraries proclaiming the Merpeople as millenia older than the Fae, Elain figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Sorry about the iron bars,” she said, nodding to Lucien’s cell. “Precautions.”

“I would have expected nothing less,” Lucien said—then leaned back, letting the back of his head rest against the wood. “So.”

Elain released a breath.

“Alright,” she braced herself. He was her future High Lord, apparently—if she lied, she was already dead. “What do you know of Koschei?”

“Who?”

“Nothing, then,” Elain sighed. “He is a death-lord—a god-like being trapped somewhere deep in the Continent. His magic is even more ancient than yours.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed. “And you seek to…take his magic for yourself?”

“I want nothing to do with his magic,” Elain told him hotly, earning an arched eyebrow in response. “It is revolting. But, it also currently binds my friend’s soul to Koschei himself, and he will not give her up unless we offer him something in exchange.”

“Mer scales?”

“He wants the Cauldron,” she explained. “We are hoping the scales will do for now.” She fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. Was the plan truly that hopeless? Was Vassa going to be trapped…forever?

In her misery, she hardly noticed Lucien had gone strangely quiet.

“Our scales do not even compare to the sheer power of the Cauldron,” he said, the words barely above a whisper.

Elain laughed bitterly. “If this is your way of talking me out of it, you should know I’m pretty desperate,” she told him. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get my friend back.”

At that, Lucien said nothing. He only stared at her in thought, his eyes shimmering despite the darkness she and Jurian had shoved him into.

Then, “I see.” He stepped forward then—and halted an inch from the iron bars. “I was wrong about you.”

That, Elain did not expect.

“I told you, your spells do not work on me.”

“I’m well aware,” Lucien hummed. “I speak the truth. What is your friend’s name?”

Her throat threatening to close up, Elain managed, “Vassa.” She shook her head. “She’s like a sister to me. She’s Jurian’s…”

Understanding dawned on his features.

“That makes a lot of sense,” Lucien said.

“Yes,” Elain whispered. “Yes, I suppose it does.”

Lucien studied her closely. “And do you have a…?”

Elain almost laughed—though she supposed it was better than breaking down in front of the man she’d imprisoned aboard her own ship. “Don’t tell me you’re back to your flirting strategy now,” she told him.

Lucien smiled—a true smile this time, though Elain wasn’t sure how she knew. “Was I truly that obvious?”

“I knew what you were,” she gestured over him as if it was enough of an explanation. “No one else has eyes like that.” Like the morning sun itself.

“Now who’s the shameless flirt, Elain?”

Elain chuckled. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She met his gaze again. “The song summoned you, did it not?” she asked. “You weren’t at the tavern when I arrived.”

Lucien nodded. “I heard it from beneath the waves.”

“I’m not that good a singer.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, his smile fading with the words. She found herself wanting to see it again. “It was for another reason that I heard you. I recognise that now.”

“Recognise what?”

Lucien hesitated. “I need to…” He shook his head. “I—I can’t be sure, it doesn’t…” He locked his eyes with her own again, and she watched him patiently as he searched her gaze. “Elain,” Lucien tried again, and she could have sworn his voice trembled with the word. He loosed a breath. “Come with me.”

Elain looked at his outstretched hand—careful not to let the bars graze his skin. “I told you—”

“I’m not using my magic,” Lucien interrupted. “Just…come with me. Undersea.”

“Like hell I will,” she crossed her arms. “I don’t trust you.”

Lucien just stared at her—started as if some internal battle was playing out deep inside him, one she could almost feel in her own chest.

Then, his hand pulled back, and he laid his palm flat over his chest. His heart, Elain realised, her gaze dipping toward it.

She heard it, then—a quiet, yet powerful sound, like a wave crashing over the shore. The steady beating of his heart.

It couldn’t have been—and yet…

And yet, somehow, Elain heard it. Continued to hear it even now, even stronger as Lucien proclaimed, “With my life,” he began, “I promise to do you no harm.” There was an urgency in his gaze as he pleaded, “Just get in the water with me, and I will be yours.”

Elain paused. “Your scales, you mean,” she corrected, suddenly finding herself entirely out of breath.

“Yes,” Lucien agreed. “That.”

Elain studied the bars keeping him away—then the iron key strapped beside her Cauldron-blessed sword. She swore on the Mother herself she could hear it whisper: Do it.

Perhaps she was simply losing her mind.

“Are you going to make me regret this, Lucien?” she asked him.

He simply stared back. “Are you?”

She supposed the question was reasonable enough. “Don’t tell Jurian I’m doing this,” she warned Lucien. “He’s going to kill me.”

Two minutes later, Lucien was free.

It was a blessing that they’d somehow missed Jurian, really—that she’d guided Lucien through the narrow space upstairs until they arrived at the starboard hand in hand, the sea soft and patient. Waiting.

What the hell was she doing? The only thing Elain knew for certain right now was that she was almost certainly going insane, and that Lucien’s hand in hers was warm and steadying in the buoying ship—and that those steps she was hearing somewhere behind them were, without a shadow of a doubt, Jurian’s.

Whatever Lucien was trying to prove, he had to do it now.

“Do we…jump?” she asked him.

“ELAIN!” Jurian yelled.

“I guess so,” Elain answered for him—and, together, they jumped.

The water, surprisingly, was warm despite the middle of the night. Helion liked to keep his Court warm at all times, but she supposed the sea, at least, would have carried some chill to it. It was then that she realised she’d never swam in those waters before—that she’d spent her lifetime admiring their every corner, but had never actually felt their beauty herself.

Everything happened so quickly.

The moonlight shimmered atop the sea, then sank deep beneath its surface, illuminating the space between them. Illuminating Lucien as his glamour faded and revealed the Prince of the Undersea in his true, unmasked form.

Elain could have drowned there and then.

The scales dotting his body glimmered under the light in a symphony of golds, bronzes and maroons, glowing even underwater as they formed a long, finned tail that floated gently with the current. He was sunlight come to life, the forest on a warm, autumn morning, the golden thread coming to life as it wrapped itself around her ribs, and Elain knew—knew this was the true beauty the sea had meant to show her from the very first moment she’d set sail.

“You…” She struggled for a breath. “You’re so beautiful.”

Lucien smiled, a webbed hand reaching for her own. “So are you, he said, placing her palm over his bare chest—just as he did aboard her ship moments ago. This time, though—this time, Elain could hear as their two heartbeats blended into one, a melody that made her own soul sing as Lucien whispered, “I am yours.”

The thread around her ribs tightened, forever to remain.

“You…” Elain blinked. “Oh.” She covered their joined hands with another, as if to make sure. “Lucien.”

“I needed to make sure,” he breathed, pulling her in. “You are my mate.”

There was reverence in the way he’d spoken the words—like some sacred spell only Elain was privy to hear from his lips.

She wanted to try them too.

“You are mine.”

“Yes,” he assured her.

“And I am yours.”

“Yes,” Lucien whispered again.

“Your scale—”

He squeezed her hands tighter. “Everything I am belongs to you now, Elain,” he interrupted. “But you will not need them.”

Elain blinked once more. “I don’t understand, I—”

Lucien smiled. “We have the Cauldron,” he told her. “My father took it—from Velaris.”

Elain wasn’t sure she was breathing.

“No.”

“Its wards protect us—have been keeping us safe for decades,” Lucien explained. “I think it is time we take our safety into our own hands,” he added, his thumb brushing over her palm.

Did he mean—?

Elain shook her head. “I couldn’t—”

“Where you go, I go,” Lucien said. “I am yours, Elain, and you are mine. Together, we’ll get your family back. And,” he hesitated, “If—if you still wish to have me around then—”

Her mate.

“Kiss me,” Elain demanded.

Lucien stilled. “What—”

“Now, Lucien.”

And he did.

Her eyes fluttered shut as Lucien’s mouth clashed into her own, and the world around then exploded—he tasted of salt and the sun-warmed breeze. He tasted like the rest of her gods-damned life, though she supposed eternity could never be enough to satiate the hunger one kiss had instilled deep inside her. Lucien kissed her as if she was the world, as if she was the light illuminating the sea embracing them, his lips hot and soft and all-consuming.

They had a war to face—but, as long as they faced it together…

Elain pulled back, their hearts pounding as one. She smiled at the sound.

“Let’s do this.”

#acotar gift exchange #elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #acotar #my writing

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centuryberry · 5 months ago

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I left this question on QOTM in the comments on AO3, I left it in Chapter 1, but I didn't really thought much about it. What if there's an AU where Yue was abandoned as a (sorta) newborn on FFM? Like, either her father, out of jealousy, decided to leave her there, or acting on her mother's wishes to protect Yue, Shanzha breaks through the wards, leaves Yue in a basket and runs off before she was caught. How would that work?

Who will be the one to find her? One of the Generals? A soldier? Wukong himself? And if someone does find her, perhaps they find a note by Yue's mother asking for Yue to be cared for, while also saying that her father's clan will most likely be cruel to her? If a soldier or one of the Generals find her and bring her to Wukong (and possibly Macaque?), how would Wukong react to baby!Yue? What about Macaque? Would they adopt her?

Who knows, but I'll admit that I'm especially curious how would the Brotherhood would react, especially DBK, PIF and Red Son when she's slightly older. Speaking of, how different would Yue be like if she was raised by Wukong on FFM?

Oh wow, I must've missed this one! Well, it's a good thing I'll answer this here!

(More below)

So, I can't imagine a likely scenario where Shanzha just up and leaves Yue at FFM's doorstep. Come over there with Yue? Yes. Leave her there and go back to LoES? Very not likely. Also, Yishen would've rather dropped Yue off a cliff instead of going through the effort of safely leaving her at an island paradise.

The best scenario I can come up with would be Sangshen, knowing that she didn't have much time left in the world and not trusting the Zodiac Clan at all, taking the initiative to send Yue away somewhere safe with the help of some artifact. Maybe some one-way transportation circle type thing. Either way, baby Yue ends up on FFM's figurative doorstep with a blanket, a milk bottle, and a note.

It's Beng who finds her. As he is in charge of patrolling the kingdom's borders and being a father himself, he was able to recognize the faint cries of a baby monkey even as the sounds of the forest almost completely drowned out her voice.

Yue's six ears almost immediately gain the General's attention and she's brought over to Macaque. Everyone by that point is convinced that Yue is his. While insistent that he's NOT the father, he still takes her as his own and accepts single fatherhood.

(Lol not on Wukong's watch.)

Wukong is super curious and definitely not-at all jealous about Macaque procreating without him involved, so he comes to meet the baby.

It's love at first sight. Baby Yue is so, so cute. Her little nose scrunches up so adorably. Everything comes out of her mouth in chirps and squeaks. Her ears were darling. And she looks so much like Macaque! Wukong eagerly helps out with child-rearing (since he's such a good friend) and unofficially takes the role of another father. They're both so disgustingly domestic.

All of FFM would hear about Yue's achievements and everything she did would be hot news. She grabbed Wukong's finger! She ate her solid foods for the first time! She's babbling! She's crawling! She's-

You get the point. Wukong even commissioned artists to make multiple paintings of her.

The Brotherhood would be far less antagonistic and threatening in this scenario though Azure would be salty as hell to see Shadowpeach live the domestic dream without actually being married. Yellowtusk would congratulate the new parents and look to Yue very fondly. Peng would be ambivalent.

The Demon Bull Family would react very differently. DBK would cry and hold bb!Yue so tenderly. She's so tiny! And PIF would spoil her with all the baby toys and clothes. Red Son would think she's pretty useless and boring at first but that changes as she grows.

Yue in this scenario would still grow up to be endlessly curious and super responsible, but she's also less tense and paranoid. She's a bit cheeky too. She would be so loved and so happy.

(Shanzha and RinRin would come to FFM for sanctuary one day but that would be another story...)

#queen of the mountain #answered ask #what if #shadowpeach #baby yue

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agenericplaceholdername · 2 months ago

Text

Sensei Wu and Hanlon's Razor [Ninjago Theory]

"I see you've found the Allied Armor, Morro, yet you haven't summoned your friends." -- Sensei Wu, Winds of Change (Possession E1)

This quote makes absolutely no sense. Let's break it down:

First, Wu makes it clear that he recognizes the Allied Armor of Azure. This makes sense -- he's been around a long time, for all we know, he was involved with putting it in the Ninjago Museum of History. But wait a second, if Wu knew about the allied armor, why not use it in Season 4? The Greatest Fear of All ends with the Elemental Masters all split up. The ninja spend time recruiting random civilians in The Corridor of Elders. Couldn't Wu have just gotten the Allied Armor and summoned the Elemental Masters along with other allies? And of course, Garmadon didn't need to sacrifice himself since the Allied Armor can summon ghosts from the Cursed Realm!

But fine, maybe he didn't think about it given the limited time, or he didn't know where the Allied Armor was. Maybe it got put in the Ninjago Museum of History post S4. But he could have used it to free Garmadon afterwards! Enough time passes between seasons for Wu to open a whole tea shop. He seriously didn't realize the key to bringing back his brother was just in Ninjago City sitting there? Did he even look? The only reasonable explanation is that he did know, but wanted Misako for himself and then let his nephew's father remain trapped in Ninjago hell!

Now let's look at the second part. What friends are Wu referring to? He could have said other ghosts, but "friends" implies a specific group of people. The only people Morro summons later are other ghosts. Was Morro friends with Wrayth, Soul Archer, Bansha and Ghoultar while he was alive? If so, how did they escape the Cursed Realm? Or were they alive as well, and cursed later? But if Wu knew that, how come he didn't know that Morro had been cursed? He says, "I am saddened he was banished to the Cursed Realm" in Ghost Story, not "I was saddened," implying that he only found out upon seeing Morro possessing Lloyd. At no point in the flashbacks in Ghost Story do we see Morro interacting with the living or ghostly forms of his ghost crew. But they can't have first met while in the Cursed Realm, since then Wu wouldn't be asking Morro about them!

The cleanest explanation was that Morro was friends with them when they were all alive, Wu knew them, and then figured that upon returning to Ninjago, Morro would summon his friends (now apparently mortals in their ~60s) using the Allied Armor. A mystical artifact with the unique power to summon ghosts probably wouldn't have been necessary to get the gang together, but I don't see how Wu could have known that Morro's friends are ghosts if he didn't know Morro was one until he encountered Morro at Steep Wisdom!

Lastly, one final question. This is unrelated to the opening quote, but still along the same line of thinking. Why does Wu not tell the Ninja that water can stop a ghost? Yes, I understand why it has to be done for plot reasons. But even if Wu doesn't realize that Morro's friends are ghosts, he knows that a) Morro is a ghost and b) Morro can summon ghosts. He tells Nya later, but not the Ninja? Yeah, yeah, "There's something I never told you" is a common Wu line, but this isn't Wu hoping to avoid unpleasant conversations about his past failures (Morro, Aspheera) or details about villains Wu thinks are either gone (the Overlord) or that he thinks he can fight alone (Acronix). He knows a key weakness of an enemy who has stolen his nephew's body. It's very possible hitting Morro with water would force him out of Lloyd's body. Any ghosts Morro summons can be defeated by water. And Wu says NOTHING????

Hanlon's Razor states, "Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity." So which is Wu?

TL;DR: Wu knowingly left Garmadon to suffer in the Cursed Realm, has seemingly impossible-to-know knowledge about Morro's friendships, and forgets(?) to tell the Ninja their enemy's only weakness.

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This is mostly a joke, but I'd love to hear some alternate, in-universe, explanations for Wu's actions here!

#ninjago #ninjago possession #ninjago wu #master wu #wu ninjago #morro ninjago #ninjago morro #ninjago bansha #soul archer ninjago #wrayth ninjago #morro #long post

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acoraxia · 10 months ago

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I didn’t like S4 too much because of the lack of build up and how rushed it was, I couldn’t get attached to the characters and it instead showed us someone horrible saying they were going to do good and we find out he (azure) groomed and manipulated people (mk, swk) for his own goals—the finale was okay.

But the fucking SCROLL CURSE? I loved it. I adored it. I wish we had gotten more of the scroll curse and learned more about its punishments and how it worked.

People characterize the scroll but that defeats the entire purpose of it—the curse is not a character. It never was. It’s an object.

The entire point is that it takes the form of whomever it is going to torture and when it takes the form of Monkey!MK it’s so deliciously good! It’s all of MK’s fears and doubts coming back to haunt him, literally, as a physical manifestation. And the way that it keeps all of MK’s strengths and powers is LITERALLY like the Novel version of the Macaque and Sun Wukong fight, except the scroll is just… an object. An artifact that will never be truly defeated seeing as how Azure uses it later in the Season.

It’s so good. And the fact it keeps MK’s voice when talking to Sun Wukong and the crew? Fucking incredible! Because MK’s voice would hurt them the most. Hearing your successor say all of these things? Hearing your best friend say this? Your son?

I adored that part of the season and I wish we could’ve gotten more of it

#think pan #lego monkie kid #comeback kid #kind of sad how people reduced the curse to just…#mk but evil lmao #thats not the point of the scroll curse and it takes away a lot of what it was meant to do #nothing wrong with people having fun ofc but that was literally all i saw #when i was in the fandom #anyways im plotting for the first arc of Requiem au #and thought about this yippeee

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foxgonyoom · 11 months ago

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If whoever is behind the Jade Emperor's death is trying to cause the world to spiral into chaos, I think Nezha is the next one on their list, and here's why:

(My theory located below, condensed into occasionally colored bullet points, and with pictures! So you don't get bored :>)

Let’s take a look at these pictures:

Here, in this picture, we get to see all of Heaven’s generals gathered to stop Azure’s rebellion in its tracks.

Now look at this second picture. In it, Nezha and Red Son are the only discernible figures standing out from the crowd of Celestial Soldiers. Which to me, points to one thing:

Nezha is the only (or at least most prominent) general left in Heaven. Meaning before the Jade Emperor’s death, he and the Jade Emperor were just about the only ones running the show. Why are they the only ones left? Well there are a few reasons, but they basically all boil down to:

Most of the really important Celestials left

Allow me to provide my evidence by listing several examples we've witnessed in-show via the following bullet points:

Erlang was nowhere to be found during Azure’s second rebellion, implying that he isn’t present in the Celestial Realm (I heard somewhere that he lives in a mountain in the Mortal Realm and doesn't interfere with Celestial Realm business unless asked by the JE himself, though I'm not sure if that's true or not. Regardless, he doesn't seem to be present in Heaven nonetheless).

Iron Fan left the Celestial Realm to be with DBK

Similarly, Kui Mulang sacrificed his position in the Celestial Realm for love as well

Azure Lion, Peng, and Yellow-Tusk are all former Celestials who decided to rebel against the Jade Emperor, getting them kicked out of Heaven

Considering how many instances of Celestials abandoning their duties in the Celestial Realm (or just being kicked out in the Brotherhood's case) we’ve seen in the show, it’s not too far-fetched to imagine that many other unmentioned Celestials also followed suit, until the Celestial Realm became absurdly understaffed.

I think the Jade Emperor and Nezha being basically the only brain cells in charge could also explain a few things as well:

The Celestial Realm’s overall absence from mortal affairs

If the only people in charge were the JE and Nezha (who was also busy guarding an incredibly important world-destroying artifact, the map to the Samadhi Fire), it would make sense why the Celestial Realm wasn’t getting very involved with the Mortal Realm. They were too busy keeping the realm up and running to interfere with mortals.

Nezha’s personality shift from his mischievous, caution-to-the-wind, “LET-ME-AT-’IM!!!” attitude in the book to his responsible, frustrated, “Don’t-poke-a-fucking-fork-in-the-socket” personality in the show

If Nezha had to take on more and more responsibility in the Celestial Realm (what with having to help keep it running and guarding the map of the Samadhi Fire), his personality would likely shift as a result, turning into the personality presented in the show today.

(That’s also another parallel between him and MK, that is being forced to take on a larger role in the world by forces outside of their control, when they’d really rather not).

Nezha wanting to fight Azure to the death

While the main reason for Nezha’s stubbornness seems to be that Azure becoming the new Jade Emperor was a big no-no, it could also be that deep down he knew if the Jade Emperor fell, and Azure couldn’t handle the JE’s power, then the responsibility of keeping the realm together would fall to him. A responsibility he wasn’t ready for.

I’m not as certain about this, however, and it could easily just be a personality thing + Nezha knowing the possible consequences of if Azure failed to keep control of the Emperor’s power.

Why there were only two magic dog statues guarding the Jade Emperor's throne room in Revenge of the Spider Queen (and really just the Celestial Realm's lackluster security overall. Seriously even Jin & Yin robbed the place with seemingly little to no trouble)

If Nezha and JE were basically the only ones in charge, it could explain the poor security in the Celestial Realm. It's not that they're bad at security or anything, don't get me wrong, they're just spread too thin, and have a lot of other things to focus on besides making sure people don't rob them.

My friend suggested this as a possible consequence of a low staffed Celestial Realm when I told them about this theory, and I agree with their idea.

Now here’s the fun part: What Nezha disappearing could cause, because oh boy would it cause a lot! Here’s some possible consequences of Nezha getting poofed:

Celestial Realm on fire

With their basically last leader gone, the Celestial Realm would likely erupt into chaos, which could in and of itself lead to half of the things on this list.

Meeting Erlang

If Nezha disappeared, then the Celestial Realm might end up calling up old generals to help ease the chaos, such as Erlang Shen and Princess Iron Fan. Heck, this might happen even without Nezha disappearing into thin air, considering how much work he’d be swamped with.

Red Son getting some screen time

This might seem a bit arbitrary, but it builds off my last point, because if Iron Fan gets called up to do damage control on the Celestial Realm as a result of Nezha going missing, Red Son would probably take a more active role in the plot.

We’ve seen how he’s basically been recognized as a part of the Monkie Crew now, and we also know that he cares about Nezha, so it's not hard to imagine he'd want to help track down where the missing prince vanished to. Thus, this might be an opportunity for Red Son fans to get their win.

The overarching plot (as well as episodic plots) of season 5

With a Celestial Realm in chaos because nobody’s around to manage it, some demons, animals and artifacts which were being guarded in the Celestial Realm might get loose, requiring our heroes to get them under control before they can cause too much carnage.

This could offer a chance to at least semi-return to our original monster-of-the-week format, albeit with each episode being a bit more connected this time, and there still being an overarching plot (AKA, Operation: Where the Fuck is Nezha).

(And if you're wondering why I also mentioned Celestial animals, in the book, the Goldfish Demon was originally Guan Yin's pet goldfish, who had escaped it's pond and started causing havoc, and the Rhino King originally was a bull(?) that belonged to Lao Tzu, so animals escaping and causing havoc is all too possible)

Obligatory “The gamemaster would gain hold of the Big J’s power”

Probably the first reason that sprang to y’alls minds when I said Nezha was next on the chopping block, but I’ve saved it for last so that you read to the end (hehe I'm so mischievous). Yes, if Nezha gets kidnapped, then the one pulling all the strings behind this would effectively have the JE’s power in their possession.

This is, of course, assuming Nezha doesn’t manage to sneakily teleport it to someone before he gets captured, although it’s possible that wouldn’t keep the JE’s power from our dear gamemaster for very long.

Now, for my final statement, I’d like to turn your eyes to the last scene of the Monkie Crew and the Monkey King in the S4 special.

Here, Monkey King says that whatever our dear gamemaster has planned, the Monkie Crew can handle it. Together. It then cuts to a shot consisting of the entire Monkie Crew, before shifting to the final segment of the episode.

But

Look at this scene.

Look at who’s missing.

In this scene, we can see the entirety of the Monkie Crew. We can see the original 5 members, we can see Monkey King, we can see Macaque, even Red Son is effectively a part of the gang now. Everyone is here.

Everyone except Nezha.

Nezha is not yet recognized as a part of the Monkie Crew.

He’s still all on his own up in the Celestial Realm, trying to hold everything together. The only thing holding everything together.

The gamemaster knows the Monkie Crew can handle their schemes.

So they’re not going for the Monkie Crew.

They’re going for Nezha.

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