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moonlitstoriess · 10 months ago

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The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 3: Unseen Threads

Summary: Rhysand’s sister, Seraphis, long thought dead, was taken by the Asteri/Valgs, her memories erased and turned into a ruthless killer loyal to their cause. After Bryce kills the Asteri, Seraphis seeks vengeance on her and everyone else involved. As she hunts them down, Rhysand and the Inner Circle discover the shocking truth: she’s alive, and now their enemy.

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Kynesis: The instinctual drive to pursue or chase something; a primal urge to follow.

The auxiliary headquarters had never felt heavier.

Ruhn sat in the large leather chair at his desk, staring at the holo-screen in front of him. Reports, data, and communications blinked in and out, but nothing held his attention for long. A strange sense of unease had been creeping in all day, something gnawing at the back of his mind.

He leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose as his thoughts wandered. Things had been too calm lately, too quiet. After everything that had happened with their circle, peace felt more like a temporary pause than a lasting reality.

The sharp buzz of his commlink interrupted his thoughts, and Ruhn glanced down at it. A message flashed on the screen from Flynn, short and urgent: “Get to the briefing room. Now.”

Ruhn’s gut twisted. Something was wrong. He stood up from his chair and quickly crossed the office, weaving through the busy corridors of the auxiliary headquarters. The sharp scent of cleaning supplies mixed with the distinct hum of tech filled the air as he moved with purpose. His steps quickened, the adrenaline already starting to kick in.

When he pushed open the doors to the briefing room, he found Flynn, Declan, and the rest of the auxiliary team already gathered. Flynn’s face was tight with worry, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a serious expression.

“What’s going on?” Ruhn asked, feeling the tension in the room as soon as he stepped in.

Flynn glanced up, his jaw set. “We’ve got a situation. Fires—multiple, across the city. They started around the same time, and they’re spreading fast. The 33rd is stretched thin dealing with them, and we’re being called in to assist.”

Ruhn’s heart skipped a beat. Fires? That wasn’t unusual in a city this size, but… multiple? “Do we know the source?”

Declan shook his head, fingers already flying across the holo-screen to pull up maps and reports. “Not yet, but something about this doesn’t sit right. It’s too coordinated, too… sudden.”

Ruhn frowned, a familiar heaviness settling in his chest. Coordinated chaos. His mind flashed to Bryce—she’d want to get involved, no question about it. But his thoughts quickly returned to the task at hand.

“Okay, let’s move,” Ruhn ordered, pulling himself into the role of leader. “Where’s the worst hit?”

Declan brought up a map of the city, areas marked in red where the fires had erupted. “East sector, near the industrial zone. The flames are spreading toward the residential areas, and people are starting to evacuate.”

“Shit,” Ruhn muttered under his breath. “Get the gear. We’re heading there first.”

Flynn clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve got your back.”

The drive to the site felt longer than it should have. Silence filled the vehicle, a tension building in the air. Flynn sat in the front seat, his eyes hard as he stared out the window, while Declan tapped away on his tech, scanning the updates coming in.

Ruhn’s mind raced. Fires didn’t just start on their own—not like this. His gut told him this wasn’t some accident, but deliberate. Calculated. And that thought chilled him to the bone.

When they arrived, the scene that unfolded before them was pure chaos.

Thick clouds of black smoke rose from the burning buildings, ash drifting through the air like snowflakes. People were scattered in the streets, some running, others shouting, trying to help. The acrid smell of burning wood and metal filled his lungs as they stepped out of the vehicle, the heat from the flames palpable even from a distance.

“This is bad,” Flynn muttered, his usual bravado gone.

“Yeah,” Ruhn replied, eyes scanning the horizon. The flames licked higher, threatening to devour everything in their path. There was no way this was an accident.

Grabbing his commlink, Ruhn relayed orders to the team. “Declan, check in with the 33rd. We need to know where the fire started. Flynn, help with crowd control, get these people out of here. I’ll head toward the fire and see what I can do.”

The team sprang into action. Declan immediately began communicating with the Legion while Flynn and a few others started directing civilians to safety.

As Ruhn moved toward the heart of the blaze, a knot formed in his stomach. He had no idea who or what was behind this, but he could sense that it was only the beginning.

He jogged through the thick smoke, his eyes scanning the surroundings as the heat intensified. The closer he got to the source of the fire, the clearer it became that this was no random accident.

He caught sight of the firefighters battling the flames. Their powerful hoses blasted streams of water at the burning structures, but the fire seemed almost alive, resisting every attempt to extinguish it. The heat was suffocating, and the acrid stench of burning debris clawed at his throat.

Ruhn’s commlink buzzed in his ear. “Ruhn,” Declan’s voice crackled through. “I’ve got something. The fires—they’re too spread out to be natural. This was deliberate. Coordinated. They started in different locations at the same time.”

Ruhn cursed under his breath. “Any idea who’s behind it?”

“Nothing solid yet. But I’ve got people running intel.”

As Declan spoke, Ruhn’s attention shifted to something strange. His sharp eyes caught sight of the blackened ground in a nearby alleyway. The pattern of the scorch marks—it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t random.

His gut churned. There was something about the way the flames moved, the unnatural shapes they left behind. Magic? He squinted closer at the scorch marks. They almost looked like symbols, curling and twisting in ways that set his instincts on edge.

Before he could inspect further, a loud crack erupted from a nearby building. The wooden beams supporting the structure had given way, sending burning debris crashing to the ground.

“Ruhn! Get back!” Flynn’s voice shouted from somewhere behind him, but it was too late. The flames surged forward, and the ground trembled as the building collapsed in on itself.

Ruhn’s shadows reacted on instinct, swirling up from deep inside him, wrapping him in a cocoon of protection as burning embers rained down. For a moment, all he could see was fire, the world around him consumed by chaos.

And then… silence.

The collapse was over, the building reduced to smoldering ruins.

Ruhn pushed his shadows back down, scanning the scene. The alleyway was now blocked off by a pile of debris, but something told him he had seen something important—something he needed to understand.

He tapped his commlink again. “Flynn, Declan. Pull back to my location. We need to regroup.”

“On it,” Flynn responded, his voice tight.

As Ruhn stepped away from the scene, his thoughts spiraled. The fire, the symbols, the coordinated attack—it was all connected, but he couldn’t put his finger on how. Not yet.

Back at the auxiliary headquarters, hours had passed, but the weight of the fires hung over the entire team. The blazes were under control, but the damage had already been done. As Ruhn and his team gathered around the central table, Declan projected a map of the city, highlighting the areas most affected.

“So far, no one’s claimed responsibility for the attacks,” Flynn said, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “But with how perfectly this was executed, it’s no small-time player.”

Ruhn nodded, his mind replaying the strange symbols he’d seen earlier. Something nagged at him, something familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“What about Bryce?” Declan asked. “She’s going to want to know what’s going on.”

“She knows,” Ruhn said, a grim smile tugging at his lips. “But we’ve got this for now. I don’t want her involved unless it gets worse.”

Declan shot him a knowing look but said nothing. Bryce never stayed out of anything for long, especially if there was danger involved.

Flynn glanced at the map again, his brow furrowed. “You think this is just the beginning?”

Ruhn didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t need to. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation—everyone in the room could feel it.

Finally, Ruhn spoke, his voice low. “Yeah. I think something bigger is coming.”

The meeting stretched late into the night as the auxiliary poured over every detail of the fires, trying to connect the dots. Maps covered the walls, and reports streamed in from all over the city. Each new piece of information only added to the growing unease in the room.

Ruhn’s mind was preoccupied, trying to make sense of the situation. The fires were too widespread, too organized to be random. The tension in the air was thick, but no one had any solid answers yet.

Flynn stood at the head of the room, pointing to a map pinned to the wall. “These aren’t random spots. Whoever did this, they knew the city. They hit places that would draw the most attention.”

“But why fires?” Declan asked, sitting across from Ruhn, flipping through the reports. “There are quicker ways to cause chaos.”

Ruhn tapped his fingers on the table, staring at the map. “It’s not just about the chaos. It feels like… a distraction. But from what?”

As if on cue, the door to the meeting room swung open, and one of their lieutenants rushed in, breathless and grim. “New intel just came in,” he said, catching everyone’s attention. “We’ve got witnesses from one of the fire sites.”

Ruhn’s attention sharpened. “Go on.”

The lieutenant stepped further into the room, his voice tense. “They said they saw someone. Couldn't identify who it is. Cloaked, moving through the crowd before the fires started.”

Ruhn exchanged a look with Flynn and Declan. A cloaked woman, in the middle of the chaos? His instincts flared with suspicion. “A cloaked figure?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “Did they get any details?”

The lieutenant shook his head. “Not much. Whoever it is, they kept to the shadows, and no one got a clear look at his or her face. But they were seen near more than one of the fire sites.”

Flynn rubbed his jaw. “So, either they are setting them or this individual knows something.”

“Either way,” Declan added, “they are involved.”

Ruhn felt a ripple of unease at the thought. There was no telling who this figure was or what their role in all this could be. But their presence at multiple fire sites wasn’t a coincidence.

“Find more witnesses,” Ruhn said, standing up. “We need to know more about them. Anything. I want to know where he or she went after the fires started, too.”

The lieutenant nodded and rushed out, leaving the group in a heavy silence.

Flynn let out a slow breath. “A cloaked figure and random fires? This sounds like the start of a bad story.”

Ruhn didn’t respond. His mind was turning over the details, trying to piece it all together. Who was this person? And what was he or she trying to accomplish?

For now, the answers eluded him, but something told him this wasn’t the last they’d hear of him or her.

The clock on the wall was ticking past 2 a.m., but Ruhn and his team were still going strong. The auxiliary office was quieter now, most of the lower-level members having gone home or taken over watch shifts, but the core group remained.

Ruhn stood in front of a large tactical map on the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared at the red markers indicating each fire site. His mind churned with frustration—the fires had been extinguished hours ago, but the mystery remained unsolved.

Flynn, sitting across the table from him, pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is getting us nowhere. We’ve got a handful of burnt buildings, a few witness statements that don’t tell us much, and the appearance of some figure who slipped away before anyone could ID them.”

Declan was at his usual spot, typing away furiously at his computer, running search after search. “I’m pulling what I can from street cams and security footage, but we still don’t have a clear image of them. There’s too much interference and not enough data to go on.”

Ruhn sighed heavily, his eyes still glued to the map. There was no denying the fires had been deliberate—too well-timed, too precise. And that mysterious figure from earlier still lingered in the back of his mind. But who was this person? And why did he or she set them? The feeling that something darker was in motion gnawed at him.

Flynn leaned back in his chair. “We’ve been at this for hours, man. We’re not gonna make sense of this tonight.”

Ruhn clenched his jaw, knowing Flynn was right. The tension in his body had reached a breaking point. “Alright,” he muttered, pushing away from the map. “We’ll regroup in the morning. But keep the patrols tight. If this is the beginning of something bigger, I want eyes everywhere.”

Flynn nodded, and Declan gave a tired wave as he continued working. But Ruhn couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

The city was unnaturally quiet as Ruhn stepped out of the auxiliary building. The early hours before dawn always had an eerie stillness to them, but tonight it felt more oppressive, like the calm before a storm. The fires had been dealt with, yet something about them gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

Ruhn zipped up his jacket against the cold breeze, his breath visible in the cool air as he began the short walk back to his apartment. The empty streets of the city felt like a stark contrast to the chaotic mess they had dealt with earlier, but there was no comfort in the silence.

He replayed the night’s events in his mind, searching for some clue he might’ve missed, something that would explain the sudden, calculated attacks. The mysterious figure Flynn mentioned was the biggest anomaly. No one had managed to get a good look at them, and they had slipped away so cleanly it was like they hadn’t been there at all.

Whoever they were, they weren't just a passerby.

As he neared his apartment, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, seeing a message from Bryce.

Bryce: Heard about the fires. You good?

Ruhn frowned, glancing up at the quiet city around him. Bryce would no doubt dig into this just as he was, but for now, he didn’t want her getting mixed up in things before he had more information.

Ruhn: Yeah, handling it. Will update you in the morning.

He slid his phone back into his pocket and headed inside, mind still churning. Something about the unidentified individual, the fires, the precision of it all—it was all too well-planned. Too clean. He needed to figure out who was behind it, and fast.

But for now, he’d try to sleep, knowing the morning would bring more questions than answers.

The next day came far too quickly. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow on the apartment walls. Ruhn groaned as he sat up, still feeling the weight of the previous night’s work heavy on his shoulders.

He rolled out of bed, quickly getting dressed and heading out. They needed to reconvene and figure out their next move.

The city was already buzzing with activity by the time Ruhn and his team stepped outside the auxiliary headquarters in search of more signs. The fires had left a mark on the city’s landscape, and Ruhn felt the weight of the responsibility to ensure everything was under control.

He and his team—Flynn, Declan, Alex and Damon—were scouring the streets, questioning pedestrians and assessing the damage. The reports of destruction were dire, and Ruhn’s focus was to gather every bit of information that could help them piece together the events of the night before.

As they moved down a street, Ruhn noticed a small café on the corner. The place seemed to be a hub of conversation, and he figured it might be a good spot to gather more intel. He directed his team to keep an eye on the street while he approached the café, hoping to pick up any additional details from the patrons.

Just as he was about to enter the café, a woman burst through the door, moving with an urgency that caught his attention. Her hurried pace and the way she tried to avoid eye contact made something in Ruhn’s gut twist with unease.

He briefly locked eyes with her, but her face was partially obscured by the hood of her shirt. The moment was too fleeting for him to make out any distinct features before she turned sharply and hurried away.

Instinctively, Ruhn’s gaze followed her. He signaled to his team to follow. There was something about her behavior that didn’t sit right with him.

The woman moved quickly, weaving through the streets with purpose. Ruhn and his team kept a discreet distance, their steps synchronized with hers. As she darted into an alleyway, Ruhn urged his team to stay close.

In the narrow confines of the alley, Ruhn saw her stumbling and dropping something on the ground. He caught sight of a small, intricate pendant before she could recover it. Without thinking, he reached out and gripped her arm, intending to stop her.

As his fingers closed around her arm, a strange sensation coursed through him—a fleeting pulse of energy that sent a shiver up his spine. It was brief, almost like an electric current, but enough to make him pause. The woman’s startled reaction confirmed that the feeling wasn’t one-sided.

“Stop!” Ruhn commanded, his voice sharp with authority and urgency. The intensity of the moment heightened his awareness, making his heart pound.

But before he could fully grasp her, she wrenched free, slipping away into the shadows. Ruhn watched as she disappeared around a corner, his grip still tingling with the sensation of her touch.

He quickly picked up the pendant she had dropped, examining its elaborate design. It seemed out of place, adding another layer of mystery to the situation.

Ruhn turned to his team, determination etched on his face. “Keep searching. We need to find out who she is and why she was running.”

As his team resumed their search, Ruhn’s thoughts raced. The strange sensation from the woman’s touch lingered in his mind, along with the pendant’s peculiar design. He knew there was a deeper connection to the chaos that needed to be uncovered. The city might be recovering, but for Ruhn, the mystery was just beginning.

He looked back down at the pendant in his hands. Intricate patterns were etched into it's surface--familiar, yet completely alien. As his thumb traced the designs, something flickered in his memory, like the whisper of an old story he couldn't quite remember.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered to himself, turning the pendant over in his hand.

Flynn and Declan caught up to him then, their faces marked with confusion.

"Did you lose her?" Flynn asked, glancing down the alley where she had disappeared.

"She slipped away," Ruhn replied, his voice edged with frustration. "But not before she dropped this." He held up the pendant, watching as his friends' expressions shifted from curiosity to concern.

"That's not local," Declan said immediately, his sharp eyes studying the pendant. "I've seen a lot of old artifacts in the archives--this doesn't match anything we've come across."

Flynn frowned, his gaze flicking between the pendant and Ruhn "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we need answers," Ruhn replied, pocketing the pendant. "Whatever that thing is...it's connected to her. And I don't think she's just some random personpassing through the city."

Bryce's voice crackled through their comms. "What's going on? You guys are off the grid."

Ruhn pressed the device to his ear, his mind still buzzing. "We might've stumbled onto something bigger than we thought."

"Bigger how?" Bryce sounded intrigued, though there was a hint of weariness in her tone--likely from dealing with the fallout of the night's attack.

"I'll explain later. We're heading back."

Three hours later, back at the apartment, the entire group gathered in the lounge--Bryce, Hunt, Ithan, Baxian and Ruhn. The atmosphere was tense, everyone still on edge from the attack the previous night.

Ruhn set the pendant down on the coffee table, the strange silver gleaming under the lights.

"This is what she dropped," Ruhn began, his voice steady but his mind still racing. "I don't know who she is, but I'm sure as hell that she's not from around here.And this pendant, it's tied to something. Something big."

Bryce leaned in, her fingers brushing over the intricate design. "This looks old. Like really old." Her brow furrowed "I've never seen anything like this, and I've come across a lot of ancient shit."

Hunt crossed his arms, his wings twitching slightly. "Do you think she's involved with the attack? Coordinating something behind the scenes?"

"I don't know," Ruhn admitted. "But whatever she's up to, she is not someone we should underestimate."

Baxian leaned against his chair. "I will let Isaiah know of this new discovery."

Bryce exchanged a glance with her mate before looking back at Ruhn. "We need to find out what this symbol means. I'll reach out to some people, see if they know anything."

Ruhn rubbed his temples as the group fell into a thoughtful silence, the pendant lying on the coffee table between them, gleaming in the low light of the apartment. Bryce paced back and forth, deep in thought, while Ithan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes occasionally flicking towards the mysterious object.

“None of this makes any sense,” Bryce finally muttered. “If this pendant is as old as it looks, why was it dropped during last night’s attack? And why now?”

“Maybe it was an accident,” Ithan suggested. “Whoever was running from you, Ruhn, wasn’t planning on being chased.”

Ruhn shook his head. “No. This wasn’t just some random person. There was something… familiar about her, but I can’t put my finger on it.” He hadn’t shared everything he felt during that brief contact—how a strange pulse of energy surged through him when he grabbed her arm. It had been… unsettling.

As the room fell into another tense silence, there was a knock on the door. Everyone froze, their gazes darting towards it.

“Expecting someone?” Ithan asked, already pushing off the wall.

Bryce frowned. “No.”

Ruhn rose, his hand instinctively going to the knife at his side as he approached the door. He glanced back at the group, Bryce nodding once to signal her readiness, her fingers twitching with power just beneath the surface.

Ruhn opened the door, revealing Flynn standing there, looking slightly out of breath. He wasn’t alone. Beside him was Declan, their expressions serious.

“Sorry to barge in,” Flynn started, walking into the apartment without being invited. “But we’ve got news, and it’s not good.”

Bryce crossed her arms. “What is it?”

Flynn exchanged a look with Declan before he spoke again. “One of our sources just reached out. They’ve been tracking unusual magical activity, and… well, we think we’ve found another connection to the attacks. Something about a powerful ward being broken last night.”

“A ward?” Ruhn asked, brow furrowing.

Flynn nodded. “Yeah, and it gets worse. They couldn’t pinpoint the exact location, but they’re sure it’s tied to that pendant.”

Ruhn’s gaze flicked back to the pendant on the table. The room seemed to grow colder, the air heavier with the weight of this new revelation.

“We need to get moving,” Flynn added. “Our source said this ward was ancient—something that hasn’t been touched in centuries.”

“Then whoever dropped this pendant wasn’t just fleeing the scene,” Declan said, his eyes scanning the group. “They were trying to hide something, maybe even protect themselves from being found.”

Bryce’s expression hardened. “Do we have any leads on where this ward was located?”

Flynn hesitated. “Not yet, but our source is working on it. We figured we’d regroup here and go from there.”

Ruhn’s mind was racing. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that the woman he had chased was tied to all of this. And now this pendant wasn’t just some lost trinket; it was a piece of something much larger.

He looked over at Bryce. “We need to move quickly. If this ward was protecting something dangerous, we can’t let it get out of control.”

“Agreed,” Bryce said, glancing at the others. “We split up. Flynn, you and Declan go follow up with your source. Ithan, stay here and keep an eye on things. Hunt and Baxian, you go to the 33rd. See if they have any updates. Ruhn and I will check out the location where you found that woman.”

Ruhn nodded, but a chill crept up his spine. The feeling that something bigger was at play, something none of them were ready for, wouldn’t leave him. And as he grabbed his jacket and prepared to head back out into the streets, his mind wandered to the pendant once more.

What had been unleashed?

The streets outside were eerily quiet as they moved toward the alley, where the pendant had been found. Bryce’s eyes swept the surroundings, alert to any sign of danger. But Ruhn’s mind was elsewhere—on the woman who had dropped the pendant. She wasn’t just another enemy; she was something far more dangerous.

The air seemed to grow heavier as they approached the alley, the energy around them shifting. It was subtle at first—a slight flicker of movement, a ripple in the world around them, as if reality itself was bending under unseen pressure.

“This is where she was,” Ruhn murmured, his voice low as he stopped in front of the darkened alley. His grip tightened on the pendant in his pocket, a deep sense of unease settling over him.

Bryce looked at him, her brow furrowed. “Whatever we’re dealing with, it’s not just some random magic. This is something bigger.”

Ruhn nodded, but before he could respond, the very air around them seemed to still. The night grew unnaturally quiet, the world itself frozen in place. Bryce stopped mid-step, her expression frozen in time—her body unmoving, her breathing halted.

Everything stopped.

Ruhn felt a strange pressure weigh down on him, an invisible force binding him in place. His muscles refused to respond, his body stuck in a frozen position. It was as if time itself had ceased to exist, the world around him locked in a moment.

And then he saw her.

Out of the shimmering stillness, That woman stepped into view. Her cloak was gone, revealing her completely. She moved with an unhurried grace, her movements smooth and fluid, as if she alone controlled the flow of time.

Ruhn’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes met hers—an unnatural shade of violet, like molten amethyst glowing in the dim light of the alley. Her face was a vision of ethereal beauty, but not the kind that drew you in with warmth. No, her beauty was dangerous, sharp, like a blade designed to cut, to wound. Her high cheekbones, flawless skin, and the intense, almost otherworldly look in her eyes sent a shiver through him. And her ears...so she was a female, not a woman.

He’d seen plenty of powerful beings, creatures with ancient magic that thrummed in their veins, but there was something about her—something that went beyond mere beauty. She was unnatural, ethereal, and that only added to the power she exuded.

His heart thundered in his chest as he found himself unable to look away. Every detail seemed to sharpen, every second stretched as his mind struggled to process what was happening. He was stuck, time frozen, and yet in this moment, all that mattered was her.

And then she moved closer.

The female walked through the frozen world as if she owned it, her steps soft but deliberate. She didn’t rush, didn’t panic. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew she was untouchable. Ruhn’s gaze followed her, his mind a whirlwind of questions. Who is she? Why does she feel… different?

With each step, her beauty grew more haunting, her presence more overwhelming. And he noticed the smallest details—her long, dark hair framing her face, the way her eyes seemed to catch every bit of light, glinting with some hidden knowledge, some secret she carried that the world didn’t know.

When she finally reached him, her fingers lightly brushed his hand. The pendant, the one she had dropped, was still in his grasp. Her touch was cold, sending a sharp jolt up his arm, and his entire body felt like it had been set ablaze by that brief connection. It was as if her touch pulled something out of him, something primal, something deep.

She leaned in slightly, her gaze briefly flicking down to the pendant before locking back onto his. In the frozen stillness, their eyes locked again, and for a moment—just a moment—Ruhn swore he saw a flicker of something in her gaze. Recognition? Curiosity? He couldn’t tell.

But then she spoke, her voice a whisper, low and melodic, yet edged with danger. “This belongs to me.”

His breath hitched. There was something intimate in that moment, something that crawled under his skin and stayed there, gnawing at him. She took the pendant from his hand slowly, her fingers lingering just a fraction too long against his.

And then, with a single blink, she was gone.

Time resumed its flow, the world around him suddenly jolting back to life. Bryce gasped beside him, blinking rapidly as if shaking off a dream.

“Ruhn?” Bryce’s voice sounded distant, her eyes wide as she scanned the street.

But Ruhn couldn’t respond. His heart pounded in his chest, and his gaze was still locked on the spot where she had disappeared, the strange sensation of her touch still lingering on his skin.

“Who the hell was that?” Bryce muttered, scanning the area in confusion, her brow furrowed.

Ruhn didn’t answer immediately. His mind was still reeling, trying to process what had just happened. His pulse was still racing from the intensity of that moment, from the look in her eyes that had been so piercing, so knowing.

“Whoever she is… she’s not done with us,” Ruhn finally said, his voice low.

Bryce shot him a confused look, clearly not understanding the full weight of what had just occurred. But Ruhn felt it��deep in his bones. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The pendant had been a symbol, a connection. But it wasn’t just about the object anymore. It was about her. Whoever she was, whatever power she wielded… it was only the beginning.

And something told Ruhn that the next time they met, it wouldn’t be so brief—or so one-sided. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @annamariereads16 @tooexhaustedsstuff @a-frog-with-a-laptop @cassie-at-college-blog @itsinherited @anuttellaa

#fantasy #fanfics #acotar #maasverse #prince ruhn #ruhn crescent city #ruhn danaan #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #rhysand acotar #rhysand

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miidnighters · 6 months ago

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It's the end of 2024, and man what a wild time this year has been for me. A whole host of things changed in my life but I knew I always had this space to fall back on. I came back to RP in October 2023, so this time last year I was still somewhat finding my feet but this year things really took off, and I have made some real friends that I absolutely treasure. Anyone who's followed me for a bit knows that I love surprising u all w a follow forever because I love to shout out the people who have made being here so fun and so special.

Much love to you all and I hope 2025 brings you everything you've ever wanted ♡.

@92328 / @laidbear

Every time I see you pop up in my notifications, I know I’m in for a treat. Your creativity is unmatched, and I love how real all your characters thoughts and motivations are even if it’s unconventional. I’m always so excited for whatever you have planned next.

@defloweir

We also haven’t written together a heap yet but I think your characters are really interesting and I’m really enjoying what we’re starting to do together with Callie and Colt. I’m excited to start digging into some of the others.

@demonstigma

Kage is so well-crafted, and I’m always wanting more every time we write together. You have such an incredible way of balancing chaos and heart, and I’m obsessed with our nonsense.

@epistrefei / @kinlochs

I know Artemis is a little quiet right now, but even though they were the one that sparked us off first, I love every single character you make. Every plot feels so rich and alive, and I’m so excited for whatever we cook up next.

@exquisitexagony / @cursedvessels / @distantsongsofjoy

Moss, the way you explore Sami's happiness and pain (as Arthur) and growth is so compelling. No matter what blog you’re on, I’m always excited for what we’ll create next together. You’re a star.

@filthystill

We also haven't been writing very long but even already it seems like your brand of nonsense matches my brand of nonsense. Your characters seem so interesting and I can't wait to see what else we cook up.

@freekzout / @hungryyheart

The most chaotic yet well-crafted duo I’ve ever seen. Not only that, but the rag-tag team on the multi, and Conrad (getting war flashbacks from that one time I called him Conan w my whole chest)? You bring so much life to every plot, and I love seeing the wild ideas we come up with take shape. Truly iconic.

@fvzzyelf

You are such a light on my dash. The creativity and care you bring to Kurt (and all your other characters) is so inspiring, and every time we write together, it’s something truly special. I’m so lucky to get to collaborate with you.

@gingerspiice

The way you craft Frenchie is so detailed and compelling to me. Every thread we’ve started is so fun, and even when you’re not writing with me I love seeing what shenanigans Frenchie is up to with everyone else.

@gollldrush

I know we’ve only really just started writing but I’ve seen you writing with other people on the dash and I’m already in love with Leo and Billie’s antics. I can’t wait to see what else we can throw together.

@idnull

The layers you bring to your characters is so inspiring. You’ve created some of the most complex and intriguing characters I’ve ever seen, and it’s always such a joy to explore their dynamics with mine no matter what pair or context we throw together.

@inrovina / @holyrots

There’s no character of yours that doesn’t feel alive and captivating. The way you build worlds and relationships is nothing short of masterful, and I’m so excited to play in this huge interconnected network we’ve built.

@interxstitial

I love seeing how Jiwon interacts with anyone I throw at him, and every dynamic we’ve explored has been so fun and meaningful. He and Flynn especially are so special to me, and I can’t wait to see what else we can throw together.

@kurjaks

Every time I see your writing, I’m blown away by Kurjak. Full stop. I’ve said it before but the choices you make for him, be it what he says or how he acts are so interesting and it makes for such compelling interactions.

@narrativedemanded / @narrativeanomaly / @narrativeobsession

The way you write your characters is so rich and full of life—I’m always captivated by the way you bring them to the forefront. The threads we’ve had by just throwing muses together have been some of the most fun I’ve had in ages.

@recitedemise / @mageister

Dean, your writing is like poetry, and I’m constantly in awe of the way you bring Gale and Dorian to life. Every thread feels so rich, and I can’t wait to see what more we can create together. You’re truly amazing.

@sorrowsick

Elliot, your creativity knows no bounds. Every time we come up with something, it feels fresh and exciting and just a little insane. I love the relationships we’ve built, and I’m so excited for whatever wild ideas we dream up next.

@starlyht

You bring so much creativity and heart to everything you do. Every character you write feels so real and captivating, and as much as I love our interactions with Sol’rys and Fox, I’m so excited to explore this new stuff with Kyran and Sszefryn too.

@strszyga

Klava is so interesting to me. I love that she’s not easy to talk to in the first instance, because it makes me think of how my own characters interact differently. I can’t wait to see what else we do.

@soulmissed

The way you write August’s emotions is so beautiful and raw. Every interaction feels so meaningful, and I’m always excited to see where our threads will go. You’re such a talent.

@tewwor

You’re a master of chaos, and I love every second of it. Your characters and concepts are so vibrant and full of life, and I’m always so excited to see what we come up with together - or what you’re coming up with with other people.

@unpossession

Willow is such an incredibly rich and captivating character, and I love how we've started exploring her dynamics with Bella and Flynn. I'm so looking forward to what else we can throw together.

@vitalphenomena

I am in awe of your mind. The world building and depth you bring to your characters is so inspiring, and I’m so glad we get to write together. Every thread we put together is so much fun.

@whileurmine

Every thread we’ve done has been an absolute joy. Your characters feel so real and layered, and I’m always so excited to see what we come up with next - particularly when it comes to the Roosevelt men and what grief my characters are giving them.

Also special shoutout to my darlings who were/are on hiatus but who I still think about lots:

@abysswarden @bloodykneestm @cigarettesandcoffee / @whiskeyneat @draconisa / @fairytaletold @fangmother / @luxbrumalix @pohlepen @solrites @womanlives @yxkanna / @cxldblxxded

#x. ooc | ☾#x. shouts loudly ! | promo | ☾#long post #scheduling this for 11:59 lmao #bc we all know i'm asleep #also no i'm not putting this under a readmore bc i'm shouting these compliments w my whole chest #also also pls know how far in advance i plan and plot this was scheduled on the 17th of Nov lmao

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saints-who-never-existed · 1 month ago

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Davechella Week 15: Silna

At long last, here we are! Absurdly late, I know, but filled with no less love and care for all that. <3

Savik - Tanya Tagaq No specific lyrics to include for this one. I just felt the frenetic nature of the song spoke well to the fear, confusion, and turmoil we see in Silna when we first meet her.

Darkness Bring the Light As you numb yourself, as you numb yourself/ Make me forget my name, make me lose my spirit/ In your name and in your name and in your name I will be saved/ In your name and in your name and in your name I will be freed Darkness bring the light/ Darkness bring my light Of the wonders of nature, the wild, the dust, the waters and the light/ Oh the sonders of retreats and open spaces lived only by the fearless/ The fearless Where will my heart go now?/ Where will my heart go now?

Tongue-Tied - Emily Portman I dye a thistle thread/ White for the tears I will not shed/ Pale fingers, worn red-raw/ Red for the tongue I move no more Tongue-tied, I am bound/ To weave my words with thistledown/ Sickle moon on the moor/ Turns thistledown silver in fingers raw

Brown Trout Blues - Johnny Flynn Time rolls the back wheels of my mind/ You helped me put the brakes on, 'cause you're kind/ I wonder where you learned to be so good/ And I wonder if I'm doing the best I could I could be somewhere else, I should be someone else, but- You wouldn't know me if I was/ You'd say I was a stranger, just because/ You'd say I wasn't weak enough for you/ You'd want me just to feel as you do too

I Speak Because I Can - Laura Marling I speak because I can/ To anyone I trust enough to listen/ You speak because you can/ To anyone who'll hear what you say/ I swear it was not my choice/ I used to be so kind Never rode my bike down to the sea/ Never finished that letter I was writing/ Never got up and said anything/ Worthy, for he, for my

Black is the Colour - Isobel Anderson, Ruby Colley Black is the color of my true love's hair/ Her lips are like roses fair/ She's the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands/ I love the ground on where she stands

If I Had a Heart - Colm R. McGuinness This will never end 'cause I want more/ More, give me more, give me more/ This will never end 'cause I want more/ More, give me more, give me more If I had a heart, I could love you/ If I had a voice, I would sing/ After the night, when I wake up/ I'll see what tomorrow brings

O' Death - Various Death I come to take the soul/ Leave the body and leave it cold/ To draw the flesh up off of the frame/ Dirt and worm both have a claim Oh, Death/ Oh, Death/ Oh, Death/ Oh, Death

Colonizer - Tanya Tagaq You colonizer/ You colonizer/ You colonizer/ You colonizer/ You colonizer/ You colonizer/ You colonizer/ You colonizer/ You colonizer Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Oh, you're guilty/ Oh, you're guilty/ Oh, you're guilty

Goetia - Lustmord Again, no specific lyrics for this one. We hear it in the show at Franklin's funeral of course, and it just felt appropriate to revisit it here for the sort of pseudo-death Silna endures in the form of her exile at the end of her story.

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Davechella #Silna #Lady Silence #This was a tricky one #I wanted to try to acknowledge the pain and suffering in Silna's story without dwelling solely on it #Because of course she is so much more than that #No idea if I succeeded #I did enjoy revisiting some of my favourite Tanya Tagaq songs though #My friend Nick introduced me to her ages ago #He passed away a few years back but there are many artists that make me think fondly of him when I hear them <3 #Spotify

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princessofmerchants · 1 year ago

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My prediction about the next four books SJM will publish

I wanted to get this down somewhere, in part to process my angst about the possibility of what may come last in this next cluster of book releases 😫 but also to record the plot and character threads I am seeing as important heading into the next stretch of books SJM will release.

This includes HOFAS, ACOTAR, and TOG spoilers so it's after the break.

DISCLAIMER: These are just my guesses based on various interviews SJM has given both before and after the HOFAS release — THE ONLY SERIES BOOK THAT'S CONFIRMED IN THIS LIST IS ACOTAR5 BEING NEXT, and with that one, the main characters and plot threads I'll mention have also not yet been confirmed (beyond an avalanche of textual evidence 👀)

So, here are my predictions, circa 1.5 weeks after HOFAS was released:

➡️NEXT: ACOTAR5 - Az/Gwyn + Nesta and the Valkyries (which should also include Mor, ideally in a shared storyline with Emerie), Illyria / Ramiel / the Prison (and maybe a return of the pegasuses to Prythian), Gwydion and Truth Teller (not to mention the other two Made blades Nesta forged in ACOSF - also will Narben make an appearance? 👀), and I also think the first part of the Autumn Court drama may be told in this book - the truth about what happened between Mor and Eris, Beron's ongoing treachery, and Beron may die in this book making Eris High Lord (though some of these items may also be in ACOTAR6 instead - I do think the Mor and Eris story needs to come out in ACOTAR5 though, for Az to make peace with his 500 years of pining for her)

➡️FOLLOWED BY: A Throne of Glass crossover book - Shifter Fae + humans, more history and context about when the ancient Erilea Fae world-jumped to Midgard and served the Asteri, a story that creates threads and connections (of some kind, no idea how, and not sure which ToG characters it would entail) to Lidia (deer shifter with fire magic a la Aelin), Tharion (and the Mer as a people - ToG stans, remind me, were there mer in the ToG series at all? I'm pretty sure Rigelus says they hailed from the same world as the wolves and other Midgard shifters - I've read ToG in full but not as closely as ACOTAR and CC), and Ithan (wolf shifter with ice magic a la Dorian)

➡️THEN I AM THINKING: CC4: House of Many Waters - This would be the continuation of the story threads SJM did not resolve or finish by the end of HOFAS: Lidia's "service" to the Ocean Queen (and more RuhnLidia story with Brann and Ace 😍), Tharion/Sathia with Flynn and their earth magic / Avallen and the pegasuses, Ithan as the new Prime of the Wolves (and something with Perry - why did the antidote fade for her so fast?), Firstlight Zero, widespread distribution of the antidote, Ariadne (where did she go??!), and maybe more portal hopping to Prythian for Bryce, Hunt, Ember, and Randall (OH and maybe Ruhn here too, to get him in the same room as Rhys 👀) to further develop the cross-world friendships we saw forming in HOFAS

➡️WHICH MEANS FOURTH IN SJM'S AIRPLANE TAXI LINE WOULD BE (SOBS): ACOTAR6 - Elain/Lucien, Band of Exiles, Firebird retelling, Koschei, the mortal queens, and the conclusion of the big magical conflict that began with the finding of the Dread Trove in ACOSF, not to mention the Archeron sisters finally acknowledging and healing all of their familial baggage that was born from their collective and generational hardships from their time as humans (so Elain also coming to terms with her Seer powers and being Fae / no longer human - also answering the question: What happened when Elain went into the Cauldron?), I also think some of the Autumn Court drama would play out in this story Helion/Lady Autumn and Lucien's heritage (Day Court heir?), as well as more information about Papa Archeron from the time period of ACOWAR when Lucien traveled with him (LOTS of processing complex and problematic parents in this one!)

Again, these are JUST MY IDEAS - the ToG book guess is based on SJM saying after ACOTAR5 she's excited about the world her next book will be in which she implied was not the CC or ACOTAR world, and which will be emotional for her because of "who may pop up" - if that doesn't scream a return to her to the ToG universe then I don't know what would.

Then the 3rd and 4th predictions follow from that 2nd one being ToG and what I think she may focus on in it to add layers to her crossover - which seems like something she would want to do after how much work she's put into it so far.

I think there's a stronger and deeper fanbase for ACOTAR6 than there will be for CC4, so I think that could impact a decision to write and release CC4 first (since us ACOTAR stans would wait decades for the conclusion of that story and still buy a bazillion copies of it).

WHICH MEANS (SOBS), if these books are released one every 1.5 years on average... It may be quite a few years until we get our Elucien book 😭 ACOMAF came out in 2016. It would be PAST 2026 when ACOTAR6 gets released, over 10 years, until we get to see what actually comes of Elain's and Lucien's mating bond, if the above winds up bring true.

I swear, Eluciens are going to get the trophy for longest wait to see these two in their endgame, bless our patient souls 🏆

(There is always a chance the last two in the list will be in reverse order, with ACOTAR6 followed by CC4, but even if that winds up being the case, it would still be three books from now for ACOTAR6.)

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highladyjane · 1 year ago

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While we're waiting for the announcement, what's your guess for the title of the next acotar book?

Lol, you sneaky nonnie! I've seen this Ask all over my dash today yestereve (I fell asleep writing my response to this)😆 Thank you for letting me join in on the fun!

I've actually had a theory about this hiding somewhere in my drafts for a couple of months now, but I've been too lazy to dig into it because 1. Structured writing, and therefore theories, is not my forte 2. I'm a perfectionist but my mind's messy - so it's all a bit messy, 3. so I might sound like a loony... 4. and I'm too insecure about my thoughts at times to even post about what goes through it 😅

But since you Ask'd... Here's a "shorter" version of that draft, at least:

My theory is that Elain's book will have something to do with ✨️Vines✨️.

Like... A Court of ✨️🌿Golden Vines🌿✨️(which I'm leaning the most towards), ACO Twining Vines, ACO Tangled Vines, ACO Blooming Vines, ACO Shadows and Vines... etc. I'm still trying to figure out where to lay my theory 😅🤣

It may sound very Elucien or even Tamlain, but ✨️Vines✨️ are described as "a plant whose stem requires support and which climbs by tendrils or twining or creeps along the ground" which, if you read or search through the books, also hints and applies to the movement of Azriel's shadows in many instances... @wingedblooms absolutely brilliant post that I quite recently came upon, especially supports the 'Twining'... So I think it's the perfect title to confuse people about her endgame 😜

Anyways, to back up my guess/theory...

Elain's scent is of Jasmine (and Honey), which seems to be the bloom of the Night Court 👀, grows as climbing shrubs or ✨️vines✨️. But I'm feeling specifically strongly for the ✨Vines✨ because

Aaaaand because:

1. Ivy is a ✨vine✨ and Sarah has mentioned it in relation to Elain's book in an interview presented at the back of ACOFAS.

2. Nesta's drawer had flames🔥. Elain had...

🌿✨Twining Vines of flowers✨🌿

We often see the beautiful petals (Elain's softness & beauty), but we don't think about the strength, resilience, and foundation of the vines underneath and........ 👇

3. ✨️Vines✨️ symbolise:

Strength & hope & resilience = Elain's quiet strength.

Determination = Elain has shown determination to help in ways she can, but is yet to be given the chance to...

She also has shown a determined disregard and opposition to having a mate...

Connection = Goes well along with my guess on "Golden" or "Twining" Vines which are often used as adjectives in relation to bonds, threads, and even spells.

Also, Elain is an Archeron sister, Cauldron-blessed, and a Seer - connected to basically every plot and possible subplots in the books (The Cauldron ➡️ Ramiel in Illyria ➡️ Made Objects & People ➡️ The Middle & The Prison/Dusk Court ➡️ The Dread Trove ➡️ Koschei ➡️Vassa ➡️The Human Queens etc.🔁); not just for who she is and her Cauldron-given gifts and abilities, but also possibly through her LIs and family. She's the one sister left unexplored and it all leads back to her. She's basically at the beginning (She's the first sister mentioned by Feyre at the beginning of ACOTAR) and in the end (She's the last sister mentioned by Nesta at the end of ACOSF) of everything. So I don't know if that supports her book being next or last...

Life = the meaning of which also applies to her scent of Honey and "Golden" -the colour of (sun)light, honey, her eyes, her hair.

3. ✨️Vines✨️ are also mentioned/connected to the earthen powers described in CC3 that Sathia & Tristan Flynn + Bryce have, which I believe many has already theorised Elain to also have... I quite like those theories (can't remember exactly where I read them as of rn) and would like to believe that it's something the Cauldron has blessed her with since she's associated with gardening and life...

I also read somewhere in a biblical text (which I wasn't too keen to delve into tbh, so don't trust my word for it, but it's Googlable) where ✨️Golden Vine✨️was associated with Life, Rebirth, and Free Will... But if Elain turns out to be the next Messiah/Saviour/Prophet of Prythian, then it's quite perfect 🤷🏻‍♀️

So... that's sort of my take so far 🫣 Hope it makes sense to you, nonnie 😅

What's yours?

#Pro Elain Archeron #acotar theories #ACOGV #A Court of Good Vibes #acotar 6 #acotar5 #pro elriel #sarah j maas #elain archeron #acotar #maasverse theory #hofas spoilers

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mariacallous · 7 months ago

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There’s a strange notion going around that U.S. President-elect Donald Trump’s foreign-policy picks reveal something about his likely approach to international affairs. Establishment types are reassured that hawkish nominees, like Sen. Marco Rubio as secretary of state and Rep. Mike Waltz as national security advisor, will ultimately counsel the right thing when it comes to staring down Russia and China. Restrainers, MAGAteers, and left-wingers draw comfort that former Reps. Tulsi Gabbard, Trump’s nominee for director of national intelligence, and Matt Gaetz, as attorney general, will shape a policy of retrenchment, persuading the president to withdraw resources from areas where no vital U.S. interests are at stake.

If you’re experiencing déjà vu, that sense is well-founded. For the same genre of think piece was everywhere in 2016 and after, as opinion writers projected their angst, hopes, and dreams into extrapolating meaning from Trump’s waves of appointments and firings. Mike Flynn, Rex Tillerson, James Mattis, H.R. McMaster were the collective tea leaves at the bottom of the cup, read to reveal the future of U.S. foreign policy. The metaphor is apt, as these attempts generally had the same predictive prowess as tea leaves, fortune cookies, and palm reading. All operated on the premise that Trump was susceptible to advice. We should really know better by now.

There was no significant advisory influence on Trump’s last presidency, and it is unlikely that his second term will be any different. Occasionally, his instincts overlapped with his advisors—such as Tillerson on improving relations with Saudia Arabia or with National Security Advisor John Bolton on withdrawing from the Iranian nuclear deal negotiated by the Obama administration. But these moments of unity were fleeting. If there is one common, mournful thread sewn through the memoirs of Trump’s first-term appointments, it is frustration at being treated disdainfully by a president who simply did not listen.

Tillerson lasted 13 months as secretary of state before Trump fired him in a social media post. The two clashed on North Korea, Russia, China, Iran, and the Paris climate agreement. After firing him, Trump posted on X, then known as Twitter, that Tillerson “didn’t have the mental capacity needed. He was dumb as a rock and I couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. He was lazy as hell.” Tillerson allegedly described Trump as a “fucking moron.” And this was one of Trump’s more productive working relationships.

Trump could not forgive H.R. McMaster for suggesting that Russia interfered in the 2016 election. Aghast at Trump’s imperviousness to advice that challenged his simplistic worldview, McMaster described Oval Office meetings as “exercises in competitive sycophancy” in a book published earlier this year.

“Trump was not following any international grand strategy, or even a consistent trajectory,” Bolton wrote in his 2020 book, “His thinking was like an archipelago of dots (like individual real estate deals) leaving the rest of us to discern—or create—policy.” It’s a sharp critique that overestimates Bolton’s capacity for creation, given that the only substantive thing on which they agreed was withdrawing from the Iranian nuclear deal. Trump responded by describing Bolton in a social media post as “a disgruntled boring fool who only wanted to go to war. Never had a clue, was ostracized & happily dumped. What a dope!”

So what of the Trump class of 2025? Might Rubio, Waltz, Gabbard, and Gaetz succeed in becoming Aristotle to Alexander the Great, where everyone else has failed? It’s no stretch to imagine Trump’s attack line against Bolton being used against Rubio after an acrimonious firing. Rubio subscribes to Madeleine Albright’s notion that the United States is an “indispensable nation” and has been a steadfast interventionist since his arrival in national politics. Trump lambasted those hawkish instincts when he crushed “little Marco” in his 2016 campaign. They agree on a more confrontational approach to Beijing, but substantively and temperamentally, they are as well matched as Trump and McMaster. Waltz falls into a similar category.

Gabbard, Gaetz, and Pete Hegseth (Trump’s pick for defense secretary) possess more Trumpian “America First” instincts than Rubio or Waltz. Gabbard has said generous things about Russian President Vladimir Putin in the past, and Gaetz and Hegseth want to wind down the war in Ukraine. Hegseth, who describes himself as a “recovering neocon,” is a culture warrior who will ban transgender people from serving in the military and gut diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. All of that is so far so good in Trump world. But beyond a shared hostility to China and support for slowly closing the taps that supply Ukraine, these relationships could blow up in any number of ways. Gabbard, Gaetz, and Hegseth are high-profile, headline-grabbing individuals, who will drain attention from the president. Trump prefers to stand alone on the stage, illuminated by a single spotlight.

No matter which individuals end up in the roles, Trump’s ultimate pick as national security advisor, secretary of defense, and secretary of state will be himself. There will be no éminence grise, no Dean Acheson or Henry Kissinger guiding his hand and restraining his worst instincts. Everything that transpired during his first term in office suggests this will be the case.

But this situation is hardly unique. Other U.S. presidents have also served as their own secretary of state. After a shaky start, involving a hugely volatile meeting with Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev in Vienna in June 1961, President John F. Kennedy followed his judgment, declined dangerous advice, and demonstrated leadership during the Cuban missile crisis. President Ronald Reagan’s second-term conciliation toward Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev disappointed bellicose members of his administration and helped create conditions that allowed Gorbachev to end the Cold War. President Barack Obama’s administration was more focused on what it was not (President George W. Bush’s “war on terror”) than what it was for. But there is little doubt that Obama’s pragmatic voice was the dominant one in foreign policy. In memoirs and interviews, his former advisors have expressed more than enough frustration to back this up.

Trump’s operating style and personality attributes are far removed from those of Kennedy, Reagan, and Obama. His first-term shift from lambasting Kim Jong Il as “rocket man” to desperately seeking rapprochement with North Korea gestures at an aspect of his personality—the dealmaking part—that might potentially translate into something meaningful in foreign policy. Just as President Richard Nixon went to China, one cannot entirely discount the possibility that Trump might achieve a substantive breakthrough that takes all observers by surprise—such as a deal with Iran. For all his bluster, Trump appears to understand that war, particularly the type of conflict currently raging in economically sensitive locales, is bad for the U.S. economy.

But we should be careful not to draw comfort from even a fistful of grasped straws. Trump’s narrow transactional style, the absence of empathy, and his short-termism all make it hard to make the case that, even if he does have a longer-term vision for U.S. foreign policy, he has the patience or resilience to implement it.

Regardless of what comes next, we certainly need to reckon with Trump, not his unorthodox array of proposed appointments. Bolton recently remarked that Trump demands “fealty” and not “loyalty” from those who work for him. This useful distinction reminds us to remove our analytical gaze from the vassals and train it directly at the lord.

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invisibleraven · 6 months ago

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Keeping Spirits Bright

Day 17: Magic + Flarrie <=AO3

“What do you want for Christmas?” Flynn asked one day. “You are like, impossible to shop for, so I need like, an itemized list upfront.”

“You don’t have to give me anything.”

“Nuh uh, don’t pull that crap,” Flynn argued. “I have to get you something, otherwise I look, and more importantly, feel like an awful girlfriend. So, list, idea, anything. And don’t say a gift certificate for anything, I want to give you something you can unwrap.”

Carrie paused at that, because she was honestly about to suggest a spa certificate-it was always a safe bet with her. Plus she could bring Flynn with her and they could make a day of it. “Hmmm, well you could get me the new Valentino purse, but they’re too pricey for me to even think about purchasing. Sorry for having expensive taste.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” Flynn replied. “But I don’t think I have the budget for a designer brand. Though it has given me an idea.”

“What would you like?” Carrie asked.

“I mean if unlimited access to the McQueen collection was possible, I’d say that,” Flynn sighed. “But otherwise? I think I’d be happy with Chappell Roan on vinyl.”

“Nothing else?” Carrie asked-she did love to spoil Flynn, and she had the funds to do so. It was just that Flynn didn’t want her to spend her (well her dad’s) money spoiling her, not wanting to be seen as a sugar baby or a golddigger. Carrie really admired that about her, but it still made it difficult to buy her things.

“Not unless you can give me a white christmas,” Flynn joked. “I haven’t seen snow since the year we got stuck at my nanna’s for Christmas in Colorado.”

“How old were you?” Carrie asked.

“Eleven?” Flynn guessed. “It was the last year we went out there, since nanna went into a home after that. But I loved getting to see snow, enjoy all the stuff I heard about on old records.”

“I mean if you want we could go somewhere with snow for the holidays,” Carrie suggested.

“Our families would never let us hear the end of it if we did,” Flynn sighed. “Plus the band has that New Years Eve gig that I have to be back for.”

Carrie slumped-of course Flynn would put everything before herself. Never one to disappoint others, never thinking of herself. It was infuriating and adorable, and ruined the idea of whisking her off to the Alps for the holidays. She would have to think of something else.

Thankfully, Carrie had a flood of resources at her fingertips, and with a phone call, she had a plan-Flynn would never know what hit her.

Christmas morning, they woke up together. Their home was bedecked in reds, greens, and golds, looking like iit came out of a magazine. But it still felt homey-a far cry from the sterile home Carrie grew up in, or the chintzy vibe Flynn’s parents preferred.

They opened presents by their fake fireplace; sipping coffee and enjoying pastries-the one area Flynn allowed indulgence and spoiling-she did love her java and baked goods. She thanked Carrie for the record, though she did roll her eyes at it being signed, along with tickets to the next show. “I said no spoiling!”

“You said no such thing,” Carrie refuted. “Plus I love her too, so it’s a present for the both of us really.”

“So you don’t want your gift?” Flynn sing-songed, swinging a large bag on her fingertips.

“I didn’t say that.”

With that, Carrie snatched the bag, tearing away the paper, and gasped as she pulled the fabric from inside it. “Did you make this?”

“Of course,” Flynn beamed. It had taken weeks-thank goodness she already had Carrie’s measurements from using her as a model through school. But it had still been a labour of love to create the gorgeous sparkly pink dress that Carrie was holding up to her.

The colours faded from a hot pink to the softest petal pink, bedecked with sparkles, and swirling silver thread. A high leg slit on one side, with only one arm, and some cheeky cut outs on the other. It screamed Carrie, and she was sure it would look amazing on her.

“Flynnie, it’s magical, I love it,” Carrie said, her eyes watery. “I love you.”

“Love you too Care Bear.”

They shared a few kisses then-with Carrie hanging her dress up to admire, and to avoid wrinkles. She would love to wear it today but it was a bit too dressy for their family visits. But she bet it would look amazing when they attended the Phantoms show on New Years, especially with Flynn on her arm.

“So, I do have one more present for you.” Carrie said as they got ready to go out on their rounds.

“Carrie…”

“You made me a dress,” Carrie said. “So you can shush about spoiling me, little miss fashion designer. It’s not McQueen, but I hope you like it anyway.”

With that, she opened the door and beamed as Flynn gasped. Because their front yard looked like a winter wonderland. Everything was covered in the realest looking fake snow Carrie could find. Plus decorations on the few trees they had, sparkling and lovely.

“Care…” Flynn looked at her. “How?”

“I called in a few favours,” Carrie said with a shrug.

“With who? Santa?” Flynn giggled, reaching out to touch the snow. “It’s cold!”

“Yeah, I think they sprayed it with cooling stuff,” Carrie said. “I know it’s not a real white Christmas like you asked for..”

“No, it’s better,” Flynn assured her. “This is…truly magical Carrie. I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

“I think I do,” Carrie said. “Now will you please let me spoil you more often?”

“We can talk about it,” Flynn conceded. “But you can always keep surprising me.”

And that was good enough for Carrie as she pulled Flynn in for a kiss, just as the snow machine kicked in, surrounding them with flakes of snow, making the moment all the more magical-just like the girl in her arms.

#jatpadvent2024 #flarrie #julie and the phantoms

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sukaitsuriarchive · 7 months ago

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Shin Megami Tensei II livetweet thread (7/8)

finally moved my ass to finish the law ending and i.... i.... where do i fucking begin

okay guys so remember that the reason that i wanted to go through all the snes games was due to pressure of understanding the smt4a themes and then i went through the stage of finding a lot of aspects of mt2 and smt1 being done better than later titles

so... smt2 was basically the game that made me go "...okay, i DEFINITELY prefer the smt4 rendition of this" instead

i think the story is a lot more branched here so i'll have to see the rest of the routes to understand how everything went down but as of now all i can say is that i'm beyond appalled with how... awfully confusing the law side is

i'll try to summarize the whole route in green text form because again it's too much shit to put in screenshots

> be zayin > be goody two shoes that work for the church, unaware you're a clone > comes aleph, "church bad actually" > "shit he's right, i must side with the struggling people"

> try to convince everyone to rebel against the state's dictatorship, realize a lot of people are too afraid to speak up > decide to use myself as a shield, tresspass to fight the leaders and see a fake yhvh

> "oh i get it... the reason church bad is because the law guys are evil and fake. we must strive to be the Good and Authentic law guys instead" > "ALSO i remember now, i was originally a half-angel half-demon entity. that means i have the power to fairly judge everything"

> "anyway Humanity Is Full Of Sin And Must Receive Divine Punishment By The True God" > escape with aleph and hiroko and a group of selected people on a spaceship > shoopdawoop the whole planet > arrive to (the true) yhvh congratulating them

> "btw yhvh You Are Also Full Of Sin For Making Such Genocide Happen In The First Place And Now We'll Fucking Kill You For Last" > kill yhvh AGAIN >

me: hmm the massacre ending in smtiva has something to comment about nanashi and yhvh but i can't pinpoint exactly what me beating the law route in smt2:

so... before further discussion, let's just comment on this little aspect

>smt4 trio shares the naming theme with the smt1 guys (futsuo = average man = flynn/furin) (waruo = bad man = walter/waruta) (yoshio = good man = jonathan/yonatan) what if i told you... nanashi has a similar thing going on with aleph >the names of aleph & the smt2 eugenic babies are hebrew alphabet letters. yhvh is god in the hebrew bible

>you don't pronounce aleph. just like you aren't supposed to pronounce... yhvh >nanashi technically was found as a orphan and named as the jpn equivalent for John Doe... so if he stays with this name (which is preferred by his adoptive family), it'd technically turn out as he having no name of his own for someone to pronounce...

me: fans often say smt2 is centered on law themes just like nocturne is centered on chaos. if demifiend went chaos because everyone was an asshole and he didn't have much choice, i wonder what would make aleph go to law me: me: lord HE'D BE A BACKSTABBING BITCH FOR ALL THE ALIGNMENTS

that initial plot point of the church being bad because of a fake yhvh giving the impression they were onto a less fascist law route and then zayin just keeps fucking changing his mind and puts both the humanity and yhvh on the same murder list like WHAT SIDE ARE YOU FUCKING ON

LIAR!!!!!!!!!

LIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR

i'm going full higurashi rena at this dude. i can't fucking take this.

he says all this shit in defense of a being that he ends up nonchalantly effing moments latter. if yhvh was fascist then satan goes triple fascist

the funniest thing is that despite all my horror with zayin's character arc he STILL doesn't beat chiaki

to be fair what made zayin sting so much is that he goes from moderate conservative to labor activist and then to EXTREME eugenicist while chiaki on the other hand never gave us any expectation she cared for other people so the shock wasn't as big when she started spewing n4zi nonsense

good news guys, there are chaos and neutral runs on youtube so that means i don't have to play them myself ❤️

okay since the struggle is over let's just look at the art. beth and hiroko. so since lilith gets rejected by the smt1 protagonist (adam) over the heroine (eve), i guess... kaneko this time wanted the protagonist staying with a canon bdsm gf?? COUGH i mean... his bdsm mommy

it's not that i hate slutty designs, but the tone shift caused by hiroko is REALLY too distracting for me lmao. i gotta repeat over a hundred times, this bitch 1. worked for the church 2. had a completely average personality

funnily the incest aspect would be the one thing that would make me invested in her relationship with aleph but after dr mekata dropped the bomb and she got mad at him, the game never.... touches on the subject again

youtube

holy shit guys, just realized this is the sample that gave origin to the iconic fiend theme in nocturne

and smt2 is the first game w fiends in it! but they don't play this theme or any different one from the normal battle sadly but ngl they felt so irrelevant in smt2 that the music deserved its real debut in nocturne

dying at the name this streamer picked for hiroko

man i'm so disappointed on both of these streamers not talking to overworld npcs that i'm pretty sure have different dialogue depending on the route. this is already a game with barely much written text damn

basically a plot point in the chaos route is that you gotta help astaroth return to its true form ishtar so the barren lands where demons are originated can go back to being fertile again and you see this little guy being born

but the fucking stream didn't talk to this npc! why do i know this scene exists then? because of a post i reblogged on tumblr 6 years ago and saved it on the tag which is why i could go back to get these

it me

okay so i watched all the endings, read a smt2-specific interview with the devs, even reread the neutral route again in a let's play thread so i could extra check for stuff i didn't notice before so let's pass the judgement

what makes this title stand out individually in the mainline series? A: worldbuilding (it goes the deepest regarding how society with monsters and humans would work, the clash between different religions, the consequences with victims of war disasters etc)

smt1-2 are in a way the "must-play-to-understand-posterior-games" not necessarily for better characters or for better story, but basically so you can understand how certain key elements of the series work

a lot of explanation regarding why law and chaos don't mix together is left out in the other games. nocturne is almost empty on this matter, even smt4 where they play a big role you hardly know the full context of why they are fighting

hell SJ and smt4 go in such a superficial way that they end up making the chaos side severely nonsensical to understand. the lack of focus on the church causing the oppression on different religions undermines their cause a lot and end up just making them worse than the law cucks

for another smt2 tidbit, lucifuge is the fucker who created the demonic currency and it's even commented on how a messiah affects the economy

btw speaking of unspoke lore, you know a very random worldbuilding fact that is never brought up ever again? in mt2, they explain that guns = good for killing physical demons while swords = good for killing transcendent being like ghosts

#shin megami tensei ii #game #review

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keepsmagnetoaway · 1 year ago

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X-Men 97 (February 1976)

Chris Claremont/Dave Cockrum

No, not that X-Men 97. This one.

This is the first spread of the issue - it's a dream Xavier is having that relates to nothing else in the issue but is evidently setting up something trippy as fuck. Ambitiously, the issue also ends on a set-up note for at least one, possibly two further, different storylines:

That's Steven Lang, anti-mutant bigot, watching them, who I forgot to mention was introduced last issue: but who's watching Steven Lang watching them? Is it related to Xavier's dream? We have no idea! This is the kind of extremely ambitious multi-threaded plotting that Claremont was able to do while working on the title for 15 years: here, it all brackets a further expansion of the story by reintroducing Lorna Dane and making her evil, with her adopting the nom de superhero Polaris for the first time, which is handy, because it's always been weird just calling her Lorna while everyone else has fancy names.

The cause of this heel turn - Havok joins her, after being blasted, but mostly just 'cause he loves her - is noted futuristic bondage Viking Erik the Red, which is weird because, as Cyclops points out here, Erik the Red was a disguise he adopted for a while once for no clear reason: but now he's a real dude?

He shows up for a fight at the airport that makes the one in Civil War (I think it's Civil War? I forget) look lame.

I have no idea what he wants or anything though, and it's all a bit confusing. That little plane escaping the explosion, incidentally, has Xavier on it: he's going on "holiday" (presumably off to do something that will almost get him killed and that he should have told the others about, but as usual he hasn't), and the gang went to the airport to see him off, including, for some reason, Jean.

These are the fun character moments we always love: Kurt is also there, for the first time using an "image inducer" to disguise himself as Errol Flynn, and being a perv while Peter is above such things.

This recap has been all over the place and in no particular order, but, yeah, great issue. Look how good this art is! This goes so hard!

#x men comics #an xmen a day #xmen

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percontaion-points · 2 years ago

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Firstlife prologue & chapter 1

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Bonus Chapters

TROIKA

From: A_P_5/23.43.2

To: L_N_3/19.1.1

Subject: Tenley Lockwood

I don’t know what’s happening. This is literally how the book starts: with several emails between two characters. I had to scroll through all of them (one email per page) simply to make sure that this wasn’t going to be the entire fucking book. It’s not. Chapter 1 starts after this.

With all due respect, I’d rather fish out my internal organs with a coat hanger than stay here.

I don’t know what’s happening, but big mood.

Your mother’s name and where to find her.

Bonus chapter/Prologue/Whatever the hell is going on here summary: So as I mentioned, we opened on a bunch of emails. The first set is between somebody named Archer Prince and his boss, General Levi Nanne. Archer has been tasked to convince the main character, Tenley Lockwood, to join their side. Archer thinks that this is a load of garbage, and complains about it. General Nanne is like “SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP!”

The second set is between Killian Flynn and HIS boss, Madame Pearl Bennett. It’s the same thing, but Killian 100% wants to woo Tenley over basically with seduction. He’s also way less chill about the entire thing, and is certain that Tenley would simply become “another cog in the machine”. He also wants to rip off Archer’s arms and beat Archer with his own arms. Pearl isn’t amused by Killian’s plan, and tells him to beat Archer in his own free time.

All of this would probably be interesting… IF THE READERS KNEW WHAT THE GODDAMNED HELL WAS GOING ON.

Chapter 1

I’ve been locked inside the Prynne Asylum—where happiness comes to die —for three hundred and seventy-eight days.

I’m suddenly having really violent flashbacks to the Shatter Me series. Opening on a girl locked in an asylum telling us how long she’s been in there? Check.

Also, the reviews warn me that despite the fact that there’s a war going on, neither side knows why they’re fighting. Which also checks out with the Shatter Me parallels.

I hope that these are the only parallels, but… The fates are usually never that kind to me.

There are no windows in the building. At least, none that I’ve found. And I’ve never been allowed outside. None of the inmates have.

[...]

Last night I was caned just because.

I see that we’re opening strong on some torture porn.

Maybe because my name is Tenley—Ten to my friends.

I thought that the review with the gif of “Listen up 5s, a 10 is talking” was a joke. No. It is 100% not a joke at all. This is literally her goddamned name.

Dr. Vans, the head of the asylum, likes to taunt us.

Judging by everything told to us in literally two pages, I’m going to go ahead and say it: I don’t believe that man has ever gone to medical school.

Something we’re never given? Razors. I keep my legs and underarms smooth with threads I’ve pulled from old uniforms.

Ah yes. Because when I’m being imprisoned and my human rights stripped, the number one thing on my mind is: are my armpits baby smooth?

The author could have written literally anything, and she gave us this dumpster fire of a line.

“I’m Bow, your new best friend.”

I can’t even pretend to be surprised that the great mind that gave us Ten as a name is also giving us Bow.

Yes, Bo is a name. But when you add in the w, it turns it from a human name into an adorable accessory for a little girl.

She cups her breasts in a mimic of me and beams. “Boobs are awesome, yeah? Literal fun-bags. I don’t know what you girls are always complaining about.”

“Don’t you mean us girls?” Her hands fall away from her fun-bags.

“Dude. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the equipment and getting a little some-some of my own goods and services. Seriously. I’m so hot even I want a piece of me.”

If this is Killian or Archer, I’m honestly laughing so hard over either of them being put into a girl’s body. Love triangle? Forget love triangles. Give me more of whatever the hell this is.

A rare few people, like me, have no idea which side to back. We see merits to both sets of beliefs. We also see downsides.

We are called the Unsigned.

For us, there are rumors of a third spirit realm, the place we’ll end up after Firstdeath. My parents used to tell me horror stories about it, stories whispered in the dark of night. The Realm of Many Ends, where nightmares come to life.

Side one: War

Side two: War

Yeah. I’m still in chapter one, and I can understand why people are like “You both suck. There should be a third option.”

I know that this is supposed to be a heaven/hell comparison, but I’m honestly seeing a lot of political parallels in this.

I cast Bow a humorless smile. “Welcome to Prynne.”

Chapter 1 summary: Now that we’re in the actual story and not whatever the fuck was in the beginning… We’re given some measure of explanation.

Basically, this is a world where life comes in two stages. The titular firstlife, where you’re born, and age. And then you die, and you begin your second life. However, before you die, people want you to sign an unbreakable contract with blood that you’ll join one of two factions: Myriad (aka heaven) or Troika (aka hell). There is supposed to be a third option that’s somehow worse than the two of those. But if you ask me (and our main character, apparently), being whipped for all eternity because you refused to pick heaven or hell sounds better than being forced to fight in a war that you 100% don’t support. And dying for the second and final time sooner rather than later. Because of that war.

Anyway, so there’s a lot of torture porn in this chapter. I’m really over it, because you know that MC is going to leave soon, simply so that the actual story can start. She gets a new roommate, a girl named Bow. But I’m pretty sure that it’s Killian. She/He’s nuttier than squirrel poo, and knows way too much about life in the asylum for Ten’s comfort.

As the girls leave their room for breakfast, they get at it with another inmate, Sloan.

#Firstlife #Everlife series #prologue #Chapter 01 #Tenley 'Ten' Lockwood #What Is Happening #story parallels #can we not #but why #Bow (Everlife)#shitty politics are shitty

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evecolourshock · 2 years ago

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"I'd hold him down for you." Alan told Moebius frankly. "As long as I got a couple of good hits in too." The last threads of a friendship decades old shattered, Alan more focused on the ones left in the wake of Flynn's destructive and downright sadistic experiment.

"It... might be selfish of me, but I'm glad it was Eve who took him out instead of Tron." He admitted quietly after a while, Jet tucked against his side without protest. "Eve... she's impulsive, but doesn't make decisions like that lightly. She would have- she stayed in control, mostly, focused on ending the fight as quick as she could so she could get back and be where she was needed. Tron? If he's inherited my temper... if he'd lost himself to it the way I used to... I don't know what realising how violent either of us can be without the support needed to reassure him he's not broken would have done to him. I- I'm glad we haven't found out." Flynn would have been paste, Alan guessed, but Tron would have realised what he did and run in an attempt to keep Clu safe from him - which wouldn't have ended well for either of them.

🔪 (for Clu - it's fake!)

"Act scared - there's an Occupation patrol less than a block away, I'm using a chromatic distorter to hide our circuits so we're less distinctive but neither of us wants them to catch on so for sparks' sake play along! What are you even doing here, anyway!" - Eve, System Resource Allocation Monitor

"What the-Who the frag even ARE you and what do you want with me!?" He didn't need to act, he actually was scared.

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daintyduck99 · 2 years ago

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You know I gotta go for kissing after a long time of pining for Rulie.

This is also for @bananakarenina, who asked for the same prompt!

Julie lingers in the doorway, twisting her fingers in the sleeves of her stolen shirt as her gaze sweeps over the empty room.

It's not really empty, not even now. If she squints, she can see the boys all around her, squishing her on her little absurdly comfy orange couch as they run through their latest song or babble about a movie, flicking popcorn as she tells them to quit through a giggle. There's Flynn in the corner, papering the wall with pictures, now the ghosts of little cheerful squares.

She sees Reggie bringing her coffee and a blinding grin that's more invigorating than caffeine could ever be, motivating her to study. She sees him messing around on her sparkly pink guitar, the one the boys had helped her lug here from LA out of sheer sentimentality, crooning along to Tiny Dancer with glittering eyes that outshine said guitar. She sees him in the window, keeping her plants alive, brightening up the entire apartment.

She sees him all over this place, more than anyone else, more than Flynn, even, and her heart aches.

It's always been him.

"Julie? Did you catch anything you might have missed?"

She swallows a rueful little laugh and lays her head on Reggie’s shoulder as he wraps his arm around her, breathing out.

"No. Everything I miss is right here. But that's what makes uni so special, right? It can't last forever. And I won't be far from home, from everyone. We can still make music together. We can still play in the garage and all the Eats n Beats and whatever other crazy gigs Luke books us between—all our work. It'll be fine."

Won't it?

Reggie presses his lips to the top of her head, and she lets herself melt in his hold as he squeezes her a little tighter.

"Hey, it's okay. You're allowed to be a little sad. Like, sure! Our new jobs are exciting, and we'll all be around. But it won't be—exactly the same. I won't always be around to water your plants, you know?"

She snorts, twisting to hug him properly, hoping he won't ask for his flannel back as she bunches his t-shirt in her hands. She buries her face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of his woodsy cologne as she tries not to cry. It's a very near thing.

"You would be if I gave them to you," she jokes feebly, giving him a similarly weak smile once they start to unravel from the hug. "The plants. I'd hate to ruin all of your hard work. They're beautiful."

He swallows hard, searching her eyes. His are bluer than usual, darker with unshed tears, and his face has flushed. His hands linger on her arms, warm even through the material of his shirt.

His gaze flickers to her mouth, and her heart hammers in her throat.

"Julie—I'd rather have you. The whole deal. Your ice cold toes and the synthpop you sing along to in the shower and your cat and your janky old coffee maker and your closet full of shoes. Maybe that's corny, or it's too much, but I've—I've loved you for so long. And I love the way you live, so—how's that sound?"

She huffs a laugh, light with relief, winding her arms around his neck as she beams at him. He's delightfully corny and he's hers.

"Even the avalanche of shower products?"

He shrugs, sliding his hand up her arm and the side of her neck to cup her cheek, smiling when she leans into his touch.

"It can join mine."

His other hand finds her hip, and her breath hitches as their noses bump.

"And the plants?"

"Mhm. We'll keep them. Anything, as long as I get to keep you."

"You have me," she murmurs, "you’ve always had me," and she rises on her toes to finally seal it with a soft kiss.

He kisses her back so tenderly, the brush of a butterfly's wing, and it unleashes the swarm of them in her chest. She sways with the force of it, but he holds her steady.

Just like he always has.

She threads her fingers through his hair as they kiss and kiss and kiss, sound and sweet.

They kiss until something brushes her calf.

Julie startles back with a yelp, nearly tripping over the ball of fur at their feet as it meows at them scornfully.

"Luna!" she scolds, scooping her up. "You're the most jealous pet I've ever owned. I thought you were in your carrier!"

Reggie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, she also seemed sad, so I might’ve—loosened the latch. A little."

"What am I going to do with you two?" Julie asks Luna, giggling as she squirms out of her arms. "Well, I love you, so I suppose I'll have to keep you. Maybe get a bigger place as soon as possible. How does that sound?"

It lights the whole room when Reggie smiles, rinsing the area of its ghosts.

#rulie #reggie x julie #kiss prompts #ficlets with ash #julie and the phantoms

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samflynn89 · 2 years ago

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[Hiya! Thought I'd send this in? Does not have to be a thread, if you don't want it to be. You seem cool, just wanted to say hi. Also I know I tend to write novels for starters, but you do not have to match length... write however you want! —@not-that-dillinger]

To say that the day had been hectic was an understatement. Or two days, he supposed, though it felt like one never ending day.

Things had already been busy, getting ready for the release of the Encom OS the day before, but then that had been stolen, then things had spiraled from there. Ed hadn't slept that night, and then he came in to work that morning to learn that Sam Flynn was taking back the company.

It had been meeting after wretched meeting after that, with hardly a break in between. Now it was 2 PM (how was it only two???), and Ed would like a moment of to himself, just long enough to drink his coffee in peace without someone requiring his attention to scrounge up the spoons he'd need to survive the rest of his meetings until 5. He wished the drink on his desk was tea, or even his usual more-sugar-than-caffeine, would-you-like-some-coffee-with-that-milk coffee, but he needed the caffeine, and he didn't have the social spoons or the time to stay in the break room longer than it took to brew the single cup and flee back to his office.

Except he'd barely sat down and began to clear the sticky notes for the OS off his desk when there was a knock at his door.

Ed took a deep breath, and slowly counted down from ten. It wasn't Mackey; he wouldn't have knocked, which meant whoever it was, they didn't deserve his annoyance. Then he stood up, schooled his expression to a careful neutral that (he hoped) hid his exhaustion, and answered the door.

Ed hadn't expected Sam Flynn to be there, and he braced, half expecting to be fired on the spot. At least Flynn had the decency to knock.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely.

Sam hasn't slept since returning from the Grid. It's not the first all-nighter he's pulled, and he's sure it won't be the last now that he's decided to step into the role he fought against for so long. He doesn't need a mirror to know he looks like hell, he can see it in the way every employee he passed on his way in has looked at him with alarm. Though he supposes that also could have been shock, his return had been abrupt.

He's running on fumes. The adrenaline rush of the last few hours is giving way to a deep seated exhaustion that he refuses to pay any mind to - certain that if he so much as acknowledged it, he'd crumple under the weight of it all.

So instead, he finds the one person in this brutalist shell of his father's company that he knows. The one person beside Alan, who would have too many questions for Sam's already overloaded brain. It all seems like a solid plan, to seek out someone familiar, until Ed actually opens the door and Sam realizes he's not even sure why he came here in the first place.

They're not friends. They're not even acquaintances.

"Uh, hi," Sam says, knowing he must look just as awkward as he feels. He's got one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans, the other rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. Even if Sam did have a suit back at his apartment, he wouldn't have worn it, which means he's standing in an office in the same clothes he spent most the early morning riding around on his bike in. Great first impression. He can already sense how most the board is going to receive his less than inspiring appearance.

"Can we talk?"

#((the way in which i also apparently write novels))#((look at us))#((also I still have no idea if i'm doing this correctly))#((completely winging it))#((which lowkey is very Sam of me))#((thanks for sending this tho!! I've been wanting to interact with more people but haven't known how!))#not-that-dillinger

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

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Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt: Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately. There was something in the atmosphere, almost. It felt… lighter, maybe?

He didn’t like it.

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion. The tendency had saved his life multiple times. Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost. Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with. Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him. Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often. Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha. He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one. Skipped school and everything. The whole high school experience. Ha.

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.

He sighed, heavily. Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding). Stock up on supplies. Get ready to weather a storm. Literal or metaphorical.

But hiding out in the cave was so boring. There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah. Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah. Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts. It was pretty empty around here.

Just like Flynn’s heart.

Ha.

Yeah. That was a good one.

Eh. Life wasn’t so bad. He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time. Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof. Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity. And not having a concussion. Or losing any more teeth.

But, back to his original topic.

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe. Was it directly Flynn’s problem? No. The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.

Flynn recognized that. Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom. But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger. Who knew what could come out of a portal? At least according to the ghosts he talked to. Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.

This was going to suck so much.

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary. Which he had read. Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck. He could take one ghost. Three? Yeah. Not a chance.

Maybe they’d leave? They couldn’t know for sure he was here. With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again. He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either. No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait. They weren’t. Flynn would know. He’d made many unbelievable jokes. They’d never attracted anything but groans.

Ha.

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost. “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.

“We don’t have any choice about her, though. Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out. Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn. Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him. The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago. At least a decade.

But he did scream. Loudly. Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all. He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages. “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.” He examined his fingernails. “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate. Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.” He eyed the eyeballs.

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork. “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn. He adjusted his grip on his staff. “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face. “No. Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby. Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork. He raised an eyebrow. “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip. Hard. Okay. He wasn’t dreaming. And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway? Flynn was nothing. He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands. “Then let us away to the castle.”

Well. That was certainly a castle. Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house. Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.

Or even hole, when compared to all this. Dear god, this place was fancy.

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin. You are not underdressed.

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings. “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost. “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one. I will collect you for dinner in three hours. Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.

… There would be curtains, right? This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.

He opened the door.

Lots of curtains. Lovely.

No, really. It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains. He might be crying.

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft. He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy. Filthy. Covered in years’ worth of grime. He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath. He was craving a human-safe bath. With clean water and soap.

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes? Toothpaste? Unrestrained luxury.

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter. The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.

There was a sink.

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water. Because he made it so, so dirty. He sank into the water, up to his chin.

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause. Because it was always a lost cause. Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available. He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one. Were there ghost dentists? There had to be ghost dentists. They had a lot of teeth. A lot of teeth. Sharp, scary, teeth.

Ugh. His baby cousin was a ghost. He’d probably have teeth like a shark. When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all. Because. Baby. Little, tiny, baby.

Who Flynn barely knew.

Why did he even want Flynn? Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?

Ghosts were weird. Anything could be possible.

He flopped face-first onto the bed. His bed? His temporary and maybe permanent bed. If he was allowed to stay here.

Oh, gosh. Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals. Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.

(Dad? Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed. But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now. He was living in the scariest place out of the world.

Ha.

Yeah.

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe. Oh, boy. Many clothes. He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store. Incredible.

They were so fancy, too. He didn’t know how to choose.

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed. Some of them looked cool. And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet. Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear. Wow. It had been a while.

Okay. The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice. Like, no nap nice.

He wanted to take a nap.

But no nap was occurring.

The bed was too soft. Ugh. This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.

He groaned. He hadn’t thought that was real. He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama. Or something.

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.

Maybe he could sleep here.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover. What cover? Oh. Bed. That was the bed. He was in the room. In the castle. The ghost king’s castle.

His baby cousin’s castle.

He was going to cry. This was so weird.

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand. Which. Might not have been the best of ideas. But, hey, he was dressed now.

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle. Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there. One of his eyebrows went up. “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down. Orange and green went fine together. What was he talking about?

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.

“Come, now. Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back. At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.

He decided not to do that. Running away wasn’t his style.

(Who was he kidding? That was definitely his style. He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing. Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled. “Only the future.” He swung the large, gilded door open.

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates. There were a small group of children beyond it. One of them waved at him. Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #flynn walker #clockwork

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